#but i'm probably going to look at this tomorrow and find a bunch of flaws

[munsonownsmyass]

Healing takes time

Frank Castle x plus size!reader

Summary: At a low point in life, you meet someone who might just help you get through it.

Notes: I'm going through some stuff and put it in a fic. Is there any other way to cope with life?

@itwasthereaminuteago wrote me three little words (workout with Frank) yesterday and it inspired this.

Warnings: reader had bad self imagine. Insecurities. Some fluff at the end. We do like a happy ending.

Words: 1.5 K

Panting heavily, you finally stop for a break. Almost at a breaking point, feeling the tears threatening to spill. Every muscle aching and nausea building. Is it like this for everyone or just you?

The breathing is still not back to normal as you lean against the wall, chugging down the cold water in your bottle. This is horrible. Working out is horrible. You’re about to break into tears again with the thought of doing this again tomorrow.

“You’re pushing yourself to hard, princess.”

You look up, finding a handsome stranger in front of you. The type of guy you fear meeting going to the gym as a thick woman. Very attractive, muscular, actually looking like he belongs at a gym, whereas you were here for the first time, and it definitely showed.

“I know.” You said, no need to lie to the stranger. He and everyone else here had looked at you, finding all your flaws, probably had an inner monologue about all your rolls and how obvious it was that you were totally new to this. Not even in proper workout clothes, you felt like a fraud.

“You should ease up, let-”

“Thank you,” You interrupt him, not needing a lecture right now. You were already so close to crying that another word might break you. “But I don’t need your help. I know I probably do it all wrong, but at least I’m here.”

Your voice crack at the last word, and you just know you have to leave now unless you want to sob and then you definitely couldn’t show your face here again. You look into his eyes and to your surprise, you find compassion in his eyes.

“Who hurt you?” He asks softly, his voice full of sympathy and it’s too much. You walk off, grabbing your bag and walk out, not even looking back. You fight back the tears all the way to your car, fumbling with the keys when a gentle hand lands on your shoulder. Turning around, you see the man from the gym.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-”

“It’s okay. This is not about you and I’m sorry. I’m just having the worst week of my life.” You say with a shivering voice, wiping away a few tears. “The man I thought I was gonna marry just left me because I’m not good enough. So I feel like shit and wanted to change. That’s why I came here. But I suck at this, and I should just give up and be one of those women who have a bunch of cats and live alone…”

You sob silently, regretting pouring your heart out to this stranger, but you already feel better, getting it of your chest.

“Do you always interrupt people so much?” He smiles, tilting his head to the side as he cocks a brow at you. You sniffle softly, huffing out a small laugh.

“No, and I’m so sorry for that too.”

“No need to apologize. Sounds like you’ve had a rough time.” He takes a step closer, leaning against your car beside you. “I can help you, if you want.”

“Could you kill him?” You laugh trough your tears and he just smile, the smirk on his face making you question if he took it as a joke or not.

“I meant with the workout. Now, I’m no personal trainer, but I could show you how everything works.” He offers, looking at you with soft eyes. Really pretty eyes. You want to say yes, but you’d be too self-conscious to have this hunk see you all sweaty and weak.

“I really appreciate it, but I can’t.”

“Come on, princess. Gotta make that asshole regret he ever left you.” He nudges your shoulder softly and you hate how it gives you butterflies. You shouldn’t even go there. You’d never be good enough for a guy like that. And you just got dumped! This would be a mess. But you already knew you’d say yes.

“Okay then. But I’m warning you. I’m lazy and weak.”

“You’re stronger than you think, princess. You just gotta believe it yourself.” He smiles again, pushing off your car. “See you here Thursday.”

“But… what about tomorrow?” You ask, already having mentally prepared yourself for some daily torture at the gym.

“Your body needs some rest. Thursday.” He turns to walk back to the gym, but then turns around, smiling at you. “Do you even want a bunch of cats?”

“No, I hate cats. I’m a dog person.” You yell back at him, only to see a wide smile on his face. “I’m y/n, by the way.”

“Frank.” He says, before turning back towards the gym, waving back at you.

--

That’s how you found yourself at the gym twice a week with him from then on. Frank Castle. At first, he didn’t say much, just showed you how the machines worked, gave you some simple exercises and gradually increased the weight and the difficulty of the exercises.

But over time as you opened up more about your past, he did too. How he was born and raised in Hell’s Kitchen to Sicilian parents, how he’d been a major troublemaker as a kid and later joined the marines. The day he told you how he lost his wife and kids, was the first day your new friendship was taken outside of the gym. You invited him to dinner at a nearby pizza place and you had talked for hours until the owner threw you out at closing time.

Frank had helped you heal so much over the past few months and had giving you back the thirst for life. You smiled more when you were with him and felt better than you had in years. Also why you had invited him to your little party tonight, celebrating finally getting a place of your own, sticking to working out for 4 months and starting to feel like yourself again.

With the party at full swing, you look around and can’t find Frank anywhere, but notice the window to the fire escape is open. Peeking out, you find him smiling back at you with a beer in hand.

“Hiding, are we?” You giggle, before climbing through to join him. He just gives you a soft smile as he scoots over, making room for you.

“Yeah, that Louisa girl was getting a little too close.” He grins as he takes a sip of his beer.

“Shit, sorry. But I thought you were single, so I told her to go for it.”

“I am.” He responds softly, looking at the bottle as he fiddles with the label.

“Oh…” You turn a little and look at him, unsure why he’d reject Louisa. Possibly the hottest of your friends and definitely a catch. “Then… Why would you hide from her? I promise, she’s amazing.”

“Maybe she is.” He looks up from the bottle and into your eyes, his softening as soon as his gaze falls on you. “But I like someone else.”

“Damn, you should have told me. Then I wouldn’t have set her loose on you.” You giggle softly, shrugging apologetically. Truth be told, you would have hated for her to date Frank, but you couldn’t just keep him to yourself when a guy like that deserved so much better.

“I want to. I was just waiting until she’s ready.”

“Ready for what? I can’t imagine anyone not being ready for you, Frankie.” You laugh it off as a joke, but deep down you’re serious. How anyone could not be willing to be with Frank was a mystery. He was so kind, had been a rock for you these past four months and he was fine as hell.

“It takes time to heal, sweetheart. Especially after a failed engagement. And I don’t mind waiting a little longer for you.”

“For… me?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper. You can’t really believe what you just heard. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe he’s just drunk. It couldn’t be. “B-but… why? I’m not…”

Special. You trail off before you can finish the sentence. At that he just chuckles softly, like you’ve just asked the most ridiculous question in the world. “I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”

“But how? When? I…” You stumble over your words, not sure you’ll ever be able to form a coherent sentence again.

“You’ve said that I’ve helped you heal. Truth is… You healed me too.” He reaches out for you, his hand gently cupping your cheek as his dark eyes stare into yours. There are so many unspoken questions hanging in the air, but you try to silence the voices.

He closes the distance, letting his lips claim yours in a kiss that takes your breath away, but it’s over too soon. For a moment, nothing exists beside you and Frank. The music gone, the city silent.

Tagging: @idrinkcoffeeandobsess @e-dubbc11 @theradioactivespidergwen @mattmurdocksscars @murdock-and-the-sea @mindidjarin @chvoswxtch @boliv-jenta @lucy-sky @darlingshane @saintmurd0ck

For the first time in a long time, you know things will get better. They say anything happens for a reason and you now know you were meant to meet Frank. You had been broken, but he had put you back together. Healing takes time, it takes practice… and a little bit of love.

[modern-day-bard]

Worth The Feeling

Note: this is a completed project but I’ve had major problems posting on tumblr from my laptop! I’m not sure why. If anyone who sees this is interested, I also posted the fic on Archive Of Our Own 🫶🏻

Content Warning: 18+

This story includes explicit smut, intimidation, and an age gap relationship (MC is 26, Pedro is in his 40s). Minors, do not interact.

Chapter 2:

Now, I've made some blunders before. Mostly calling talent by the wrong name, which is a big mistake when dealing with big personalities. But I've tripped a few times, spilled a few things, and I even broke a glass in the middle of a take.

Yet somehow, none of those things compare to this.

Treating the lead as if he was a PA? Telling him he needs to get a walkie ?

The thought makes me sprint even harder toward the sound stage. Once inside, I scan the area as quickly as I can. There's at least a hundred people in here now and the more I push past, the more I realize they are turning to look at me disapprovingly. I really should find a new shirt first, but it can wait.

"Lana!" I shout when I catch a glimpse of one of her classic colorful scarves. I can see the bright fabric tied in a bow on top of her curly head of hair, but she doesn't turn around.

"LANA!" This time several people, Lana included, turn around.

"Hey!" She runs up to me and sweeps me in a hug, before pulling back with an uncharacteristically miserable expression. "Why are you all wet? Ava, I can see your bra." She pokes my visible white strap.

I swat her away. "Just wait. That is the least of my worries."

I explain the situation, visibly cringing as I await her reaction.

In typical Lana fashion, she bursts into musical hysterics. She covers her mouth when she notices how pained my expression is.

"Lana, I am this close to panicking. You don't think he'll complain, do you?"

"No, no he won't complain. You said he was relatively cool about it, right?"

"Yeah, I mean, he didn't even correct me."

"Exactly. You know if it was one of the Marvel guys from our last picture, you might be in trouble. But from the sounds of it, he probably won't even remember it by tomorrow."

"Yeah..." Why did that idea not make me feel any better?

Lana is snickering again. "You know I sent you the cast list like a month ago, right? How do you of all people not recognize Javi Gutierrez?"

I lower my voice. "You know I'm not an indie movie fanatic."

"I know. It's your fatal friendship flaw. But he was on a bunch of shows, too!"

"I haven't had time for TV with school! Movies are less commitment. Don't scold me in my time of need." I wack her arm.

"Fine, fine," She holds her hands up in defeat. "But seriously Ava, unless you want to continue to give us all a free show you should really get another shirt. I have to get these mics up and running, but go to wardrobe and find Barb."

She's right. The first scene is at 8:00am, and as a sound assistant, Lana has to be ready to mic up the actors as soon as they're out of hair and makeup. I still have to print out scripts for the first few scenes, and I'm really starting to hate the sticky feeling on my stomach.

"Okay, thank you!"

Lana winks at me as I turn and head for the wardrobe trailer on the far side of the lot. Barbra has been on Norwick Productions sets since movies were invented. That is actually the answer she will give a person if they ask how long she's been working. She's the grumpy, tough-love mom I never had. And since Lana is pretty much the only person I hung out with during hiatus, I missed Barb dearly.

Barb's expression pales as soon as she sees me.

"Ava, it's only day one for god's sake."

"Don't worry Barb, Lana already scolded me for you."

"I do like that girl. And I'm guessing you came by to catch up after break, and not simply because you need my help?" She raises a knowing brow.

"Obviously." I flash her a very over-dramatic smile.

"I should give you one of the ratty uniforms from the end of this film for that."

"But you won't, because you love me." I batted my lashes.

"Uh-huh." Barb sighs, disappearing into the depths of the trailer before coming back out with a clean white t-shirt. No fuss, no fake blood.

"You are my guardian angel." I say after swapping the shirts.

"Bring me real coffee tomorrow instead of this crafty crap and we can call it even." She says in a flat tone, and I know she's not kidding.

I give her a quick hug. "It's good to see you Barb."

That makes her chuckle slightly. "You too, kiddo."

I check my watch again. 7:30am. Barely enough time to print out the scripts. I bid Barb a quick goodbye and head to the closest copier.

After kicking it a few times, and uttering several curse words, I got the copier up and running and several copies of today's script printed. I try to skim today's scenes while walking back to the soundstage. I'm beginning to grow curious as to watch is actually happening in this movie. Since we usually shoot scenes out of order, these few pages aren't helping very much.

Back on the soundstage, I spot Lloyd, our director, and walk over to hand him today's pages.

"Ava, welcome back." Lloyd says in his usual artistic drawl. He takes one of the copies from me, flipping through as though looking for something specific, though I know he is barely even skimming the pages.

Part of me is holding my breath, wondering if Javi would have complained to Lloyd or a production manager at this point. I'm not sure when he would have time for that between hair and makeup, but in a world where my mishap today costs me my job, he would find the time.

But, Lloyd is deep in conversation with a cameraman and doesn't spare me another glance. I take that as a good sign, and slowly slink toward the far corner of the room. This way I can still have a good view of the stage without calling too much attention to myself. I can see Lana across the room micing up one of the actors in the scene. Some older gentleman who I heard was popular on a cowboy show that I've never seen. I recognize his face more than I did Javi's, which embarrasses me further, even though the fact is only known to me.

Then, as though the gods of shame were looking down and laughing at me, Javi walks into the large room. I quickly open the first scene's pages to see if I can figure out whom he is playing. That, and so I can take my mind off of how he looks even more attractive in costume. I steal a glance up from the pages and see Lana micing him up now. He's smiling warmly at her, and she chuckles at something he said. Lana tends to laugh at most things, but I can't help but wonder what words were being passed between them.

The two men step onto the CIA set together, both dressed in impeccably tailored suits, making light conversation. Now is my que to bring them their copy of the pages for a final once-over before we roll the cameras. I inhale deeply and set my shoulders back.

Don't be intimidated, Ava. You can't embarrass yourself any worse than you already have.

Well, I know that last part isn't true. But I repeat it to myself all the same.

I walk up to the men, handing them each a copy with a smile.

The older gentleman gives me a friendly nod as he takes the script. Javi gives me the same smile he gave Lana a few minutes prior. I'm turning to leave, and I'm surprised when he says, "Thank you, Ava."

I pause, half out of surprise that he remembered my name, and half over the hesitation of wondering if I should apologize for earlier. But his attention is already on the pages, and there are so many people around to hear me admit my mistakes. I decide against it.

- - -

After we shoot the first few takes, I think I'm starting to piece together what the film is about. In the way that it is not unlike most other spy films I've seen. Older Cowboy, whose real name is still evading me, has a small role as the experienced head of the CIA who brings on Javi's character, a real loose cannon, despite his reservations. There is something about a kidnapping of Javi's lover that makes him "too close to the case," but he lies about his involvement with the woman to make sure he can be the one to save her. I'm assuming that is when we will be in Italy. Spy movies love a good ol' car chase in Europe.

I'm not blown away by the originality of the script or anything, but I'm still engaged in the scene even on their tenth take. I realize that Javi is actually quite talented. I'm only ever engaged in a scene if the actors are talented. That, or if Lloyd is having a breakdown.

I spend the rest of the scene trying not to notice just how well tailored that suit is on Javi. I never leer at the talent, but I always appreciate a good-looking man in a suit. Plus, there is something different about him. He has a kindness to him that I haven't seen with other actors. We've been working with a lot of big names recently, so maybe I've just become disillusioned. Even still, I know some lesser actors who would've complained about my assumption early, even if they painted it as a joke. They would never want me to fully live it down. But not Javi. At least, not so far.

When they call for a break, I decided it would be best to fulfill some of my other duties on another part of the lot.

The rest of the day goes by in a blur. I try to stay away from the soundstage, knowing that they will be working with Javi for the next few hours. I check my watch for the umpteenth today, and I crack a smile when I realize we only have about an hour left. My last stop is Emma Madden's trailer, our leading lady. And then I finally get to drive home and sleep.

I hadn't met Emma before, but similar to Javi, she isn't in the same celebrity category as our last film, so she seems much friendlier. I got a call on my walkie letting me know there was an issue with her food, and with not much else to go off of, I figured I might be in for a celebrity meltdown. However, when I got here, she let me know that she is severely allergic to mustard, and was afraid to touch the sandwich that had been dropped off to her. Sure, maybe it was a little 'Hollywood' for her to have me come and throw it in the garbage for her, but she was pretty apologetic about it.

"Thank you so much, Anna." She says with her knees brought up to her chest, as if she was shielding her center from the turkey sandwich springing back up out of the trash. Her expression is worried and her tone is so sincere that I don't correct her. Not that I would have otherwise.

"Not a problem Ms. Madden." I dust off sesame seeds from my palms.

"Oh please, call me Emma." She smiled at me now, and I couldn't help but like her a little.

"I know a mustard allergy is like, totally random, but it's actually pretty bad. I have an epipen and everything." I know she must be at least thirty years old, but her inflection reminds me of a teenager.

"I'll let crafty know. They should have sent you a food preference and allergy sheet to fill out months ago, that's the studio's fault."

"Oh, they did! I completely forgot about that. I figured it was just if you were a picky eater."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"Well, no worries. I'll let them know now." I reach for the doorknob of the trailer.

"Thank you again!" Emma called out as I closed the door behind me.

As I'm finally able to drop off my walkie for the day, I run through all the ways that Emma's Mustard Mayhem could have cost the studio hundreds of thousands of dollars. How did they start production without having her sign a waiver? Why did no one double check that all the talent had sent in their allergy lists? If she were a higher profile celebrity, this could have been a huge issue. But as usual, these are the scenarios I keep to myself. And as I drive home, I try to run through only mustard scenarios, and ignore any that pop up with another actor in mind.

Series Masterlist

[mondaysjournal]

6/25/2023 - I Set My Face To The Hillside

It's been about a month since I last saw you, and less than two months until I get to see you again. I've come to terms with the fact that I will probably tell you that every week I spend here is uneventful, even if things did happen and you'd tell that it really was eventful once I describe them to you. On Tuesday I achieved a triumph of the hordes victory with Shelob, and then ordered some more cards for it and a few other decks on hareruya. Of course I had to upgrade the land base on Kaza since that was something you always complained about. You don't have to worry though, I didn't get a scalding tarn or anything like that for it. On Wednesday, I made more bread.

It doesn't look that great, since I didn't let it proof for very long at the end, but it tasted good and had the right texture coming out of the oven. It was kind of an exercise in seeing just how lazy I could be with the methodology and still turn out a good end product. And I can say that this set of loaves, with less time proofing and less gluten development, was just as good as the ones I made previously. I thought about what you said when we talked last, about how you learning baking would be complementary to me doing everything else. Before that, I had a vague impulse to bake more out of a sense of inadequacy, like it was a flaw that I didn't have much experience baking things. But when you put it the way you did, it made me happy, because I think there should be things I can rely on you for and ways you can show your appreciation for me that I can't necessarily do. And it was cute to think about us making a bunch of things for an occasion like thanksgiving. When you talk about the future that way, it makes it that much easier to feel it in my hands. So I'm okay just knowing how to bake bread. It's a lot easier than I thought it would be.

On Thursday, we only got to play two games since the first one took so long. They were uneventful, and I did not play shelob since I mistakenly forgot to bring her. Thankfully, the real version of her is in the hareruya order that's coming soon. I didn't go anywhere on Friday. In the land online, ever since we stopped playing elden ring, we just started watching yugioh. It's a long show so we'll probably be occupied for a while. I think tomorrow we are going to start watching all of the extended lord of the rings movies. Today, I went to wegmanns to buy a few things (read: $58 worth of items). I got the bresaola that I wanted to get before but was too cowardly to buy. It tastes pretty good, but I don't know if I'd buy it again soon. I saw a new type of better than bouillon I had never known about, which was just chipotle base. I didn't buy it because I don't know what I would use it for. I guess some sort of chipotle soup. Maybe I'll get it next time. I got the mango sorbet popsicles since I don't think we tried that when you were here. I haven't eaten them yet. I think the most interesting thing I do regularly is go the store and buy things, and look at stuff I've never seen before. It's kind of mundane, but at least it's interesting even without you. I do feel like when I'm at the store with other people, I have to make sure I don't waste their time. I know you wouldn't care that much if I wandered around a lot, but getting back from the store sooner meant that I could spend more time holding you.

The emptiness you left behind is very different from the one that I was living in before you came along. Now it's expectant, waiting for something that it knows will be there, whereas before, it was strange and hopeless, unknowing of what could ever fill it. I walked around in that emptiness a lot, asking questions of myself and the world, not always productive or positive. Finding the answers to those questions is how I arrived here, coming to be who I am today. I am as self-sacrificial, generous, and devoted as I am because those are all things I decided I had to be. I love you in all the ways I do because those are the ways I know best. Being here without you encourages a different kind of reflection. I know that this is basically like what it was before, but...the context is radically different. The self-reflection I did before often felt...abstracted, like the full breadth of what I believed I was capable of doing for others would never actually be put to use at any point. Now, it feels like all those questions are settled science. The new questions are about what I am capable of doing for myself, and how that affects others. This isn't the beginning of that line of thought for me, but it certainly is an inflection point for it. It was easy to think of myself as purely instrumental, a vessel by which others wishes could be fulfilled and the good of humanity could be increased. I am still driven by an impulse to help others, and to devote myself to the people I love, but in a less self-destructive manner than before. I know that I have to take care of myself and become better in ways that I didn't even consider previously, and part of that came from being with you. It's easy to try to do those things when you're here, seeing everything that I do. But when you' can't see me...that's the real test. 're not here...that's the real test. I hope that by the time you come back, I will have grown in certain ways that I can't even conceive of right now. And once you're here, we'll continue to grow together through the life we share. That's what I'm most excited about.

I have to go to albany on tuesday night. It's going to be very annoying. But it will be okay if I get to talk to you. It always is. I love you.

[omnivoroustree]

Snow

909 words. Signe gets homesick on Wintersday. Contains swearing. Based on a prompt from @tyrias-library.

Signe was lost. The Crystal Desert was massive, and the small sylvari she had been following for the past few days had dismounted their raptor next to a cliff face, then a massive rabbit had appeared out of nowhere, and they had jumped on its back and shot into the air. Signe had made a small panicked noise, running backwards until she could see them sitting on a ledge, around halfway up. Then she had waited for them to come back, but when night came and sweltering heat rapidly changed into bitter cold, she had given up and led her own shivering raptor to the outpost.

After that, she bought a helmet and made her way back to the cliff, and a few hours later, she was sitting on a ledge, lost, looking down at the speck that was her raptor, and realising that a helmet would not stop her from dying if she were to fall.  On top of that, the sylvari was probably long gone, and not coming back for her. “Fuck…” she sang to herself softly. She didn’t feel confident continuing upwards, but she felt even worse about going down.

The raptor paced up and down for a few minutes before it started walking away. “I guess there’s not much point in going down now,” Signe muttered. Her voice was comforting to her, cutting through the silence that often tainted the air. “And that means I have to keep climbing.”

It took some time to get to her feet, clinging to the side of the cliff. She had to stop looking down. The heat was already making her feel nauseous, and it didn’t need any help. She found a place to put her hand, and one to put her foot, and pushed herself upwards. Found another handhold and another foothold, and repeated the process. It was simple, and would have been relaxing were it not for her impending doom.

“I’m not doomed,” she told herself. “I’m just… probably going to die.”

Her hands were shaking, and she glared at them, willing them to stop. She wanted to look down to see how much progress she had made (probably virtually none) but didn’t want to confront how high she was again, and she wanted to look up to see how much further she had to go (probably a long way) but didn’t want to decide it was way too far and give up. That left her focusing on taking one step at a time.

She started humming to herself after a few minutes, lost her voice after a few hours. Her arms stopped shaking, and as the day dragged on and the clouds blanketing the sky grew dark and ominous, they started again from exhaustion instead of fear. Signe found another ledge large enough to rest on, and looked down, half proud, half terrified.

It started to rain. Signe saw the first few drops falling around her, and smiled, ready for cool, blissful water to hit her face, wash away the sweat and soothe the sunburn. Then she realised it was warm. “Lovely,” she said. “The sky’s pissing on me. What a wonderful Wintersday gift.”

Wintersday. She had forgotten about that. The holiday was her favourite time of year, but the concept of time had slipped away from her shortly after arriving in Amnoon. She paused to think for a moment. “It is Wintersday.”

She was crying subtly, tears merging with rain, a dreamy smile spread across her face as she remembered days spent sitting in banks of snow, dressed in a gloriously ugly sweater and sipping spiced apple cider while she watched people try to navigate the Winter Wonderland. Divinity’s Reach had been cold, but cozy and loud and festive, and... she missed it.

Here it was hot and quiet and lonely. She hated it.

It was time to get moving. The rain would make climbing dangerous, but if she stayed where she was, she’d freeze once night came. The sun was already dangerously low, and the temperature would plummet within the hour. Signe continued her ascent.

She was right about the temperature dropping. It happened every day, and she’d been there to experience it for the past few weeks, but it still shocked her every time. It was growing colder as she went higher too. Her breath started to rise in plumes, and her gaze followed one upwards and saw the end.

A burst of energy drove her the last few feet, and she scrambled over the edge, collapsing, eyes closed and panting heavily. The ground was colder than the air, and had a familiar, but unexpected texture. She opened her eyes.

It was coated in an inch of snow.

She lifted her head and drew her gaze skywards, seeing snowflakes fluttering around, settling in a tree which sat roughly in the middle of the small plateau. And there was a person sitting at the base of the tree, wrapped in several blankets, near a fire heating some sort of stew, looking at Signe, bemused. Signe got to her feet and trudged over to him. Warmed her hands over the fire.

He gave her a red blanket, and a bowl of stew, and she spent that Wintersday sitting in a snowdrift, wrapped in a bright red blanket and eating stew, which was rich and warm and wonderful, while she watched the snow fall. She smiled. For that one night, she felt like she was home.

[poetrusicperry]

hello darling!! if you still need inspiration for the ship + headcanon thing here;

i'll try my best to describe myself, as that is my fatal flaw. i have green eyes and messy brown hair. my classic scent is marine water and driftwood. im a entp, aquarius, and slytherin. i use the pronouns she/her. i'm extremely stubborn, i have a good sense of humor, and i love learning. i also love to argue/debate, and i'll do anything to win [even if I'm wrong, but i'm never wrong ;)]. i probably need glasses, but i'm too stubborn to ever admit it. my favourite hobbies are reading, writing, researching, baking, and playing sports. i love learning about all types of mythology + astrology. i have a knack for history, and i'm super into foraging, although I don't get to practice it much! i would describe my aesthetic as a mix of academia, cottagecore, and goblincore. i have an extremely flirtatious personality, even when i don't mean to come across that way. my friends say i have an old soul- they also say i'm a nerd but we don't talk about that. i was on our schools honor roll, and I received two other awards, one for my academic achievement and one for my leadership skills. i am a die-hard romantic, although i'm the person you least expect it from. hopefully this information will suffice, and i'm particularly interested in whom you think would fall for silly old me.

thank you for the inspo, my dear !! i hope you like these; it got pretty late and i kind of ran out of creative energy toward the end, but i still hope it's okay <3

ship:

i have this feeling that’s telling me to ship you with cameron, so i’m shipping you with cameron !! you guys both seem to have strong personalities, but i think you’d both bring so many things to the table, there would never be a boring day between the two of you (:

hcs:

baking with pittsie and meeks !! pitts would actually try, and be pretty good, but meeks would be pretty… lackluster. it’s okay, though, because meeks and the rest of the poets (who would somehow stumble into the kitchen when they heard the timer go off) would be great taste-testers

legendary debates between you and charlie. i mean seriously, these things would take all night, and in the morning there still would be no conclusion. cameron would find you guys passed out in the common area with a bunch of notes scribbled into notebooks

you and cameron would also like to debate, but things never got as heated as they did between you and charlie. you and cameron really only debated to practice actual debating, and you’d both give each other constructive criticisms and stuff

your hesitation/laziness to get glasses didn’t really affect you… except when you got seated far away from the board and would be squinting your poor eyes out to no avail.

any one of the poets would be cool with you copying their notes

you and charlie would have this weird flirtatious thing that cameron was always a bit …? about, but you and charlie were both just naturally more flirtatious, so when you interacted it was pretty 😏

neil would always ask you to run lines with him, because you wouldn’t let him stop until he had a good portion memorized; you kept him motivated and he admired how driven you were in everything you did

you and pitts doing a research project on frogs completely for fun, but learning a whole lot about amphibians in the process

sweaty, tiring soccer games between you and the poets, where you’d play until long after the sun had gone down and the flood lights came on (you, charlie, neil, and todd can’t separate the bfs vs pitts, meeks, cameron, and knox)

exchanging poetry books with todd and neil, kind of like your guys’ own little library between the three of you

joking around with cameron, even when he was trying to study (you wouldn’t stop cracking jokes until he laughed)

blurb:

after getting in a small argument with cameron about a conversation you had had with charlie, you had left cameron’s room and gone back to your own. it was frustrating to you because no matter how many times you told cameron that you and charlie were just friends, there was always the smallest bit of tension surrounding the subject. you could understand why cameron would feel upset or threatened by charlie, but you didn’t understand why cameron felt the need to bring this up time and again. for a couple days you didn’t hear from him, nor did you feel inclined to talk to him. charlie kept his distance, too, but neil and todd came and hung out a bit. in the study area, you, neil, and todd were sitting on one side of the room, and the rest of the poets were on the other side. you paid no attention to the other side of the room, not once looking toward them (though cameron kept looking at you, and even disappeared for a bit before coming back).

“you guys don’t have to sit here with me… i don’t want to make anything weird between you and the other boys,” you’d say, flipping to a new page in your notebook and glancing up at them.

“we want to, don’t worry,” neil smiled and gave you a reassuring look before turning back toward todd to help him with latin. when dr. hager told everyone to pack it in for the night, you collected your things and headed straight to your room without even a glance behind you. when you got up into your room, you dropped your books on your desk, and went to flop down into bed when a folded up piece of paper on your pillow stopped you. sighing a little bit, you unfolded it and read the contents,

“i’m really sorry that i keep making the same argument happen. it’s never my intention, i think i’m just self conscious sometimes. there are a lot of things i’m good at, but being open and confident in certain social situations is definitely not one of them. it’s not your fault, and i’m really sorry. i don’t like not talking to you; these past few days have sucked. and i haven’t been able to focus on anything. i’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow, okay? please don’t stay mad at me. i’m really sorry.

love,

cameron”

soon after, you had learned that the boys had helped him write the letter, and that while he struggled with intimacy and girls sometimes, it didn’t mean he didn’t care.

[bluemoonpunch]

I'm getting really strange vibes from Soobin in TXT. As in, he's creeping me out quite a bit. And I get the feeling that he's fake. I was ready to embrace TXT, but that has put me off quite a bit since I can't even look at a picture of them. Is it me, or is it him? (or is it both and we're just not meant to click? which is a lot more probable ahah)

So, this young lad is a Sagittarius, born December 5th, 2000 according to them kprofile things. There was a late Pisces Moon that day, so depending on the time he’s either got a Pisces Moon or an Aries Moon. Pretty great if he’s leaning more towards Aries, kind of a bum butt if he’s leaning more towards Pisces as that energy would be imprinted much more prominently. There’s definitely nothing bad about this combination of Sun and Moon, but if you’re an 18-year-old boy who is the leader of the group that is following one of the biggest boy groups to ever grace planet Earth then you may sink into that Pisces shit and start projecting some overcompensating nonsense. WHICH IS FINE.

For this reading, I focused on what was projecting from his core and what he is consciously projecting because if those two things are in conflict other people can get some weird vibes or see the person as being “off” or fake in some way. From his core where his Sag energy is very much in the game he, like most Sagittarians, is super focused on his work and making shit MOVE. The 4 of Swords even came out reversed here alongside the 7 and Ace of Pentacles. His whole soul is trying to move with this shit because he wants it that badly, but it’s very singular, as in on a soul level he’s more focused on himself, soul fulfillment, getting his groove on and making waves. Then consciously he’s very aware of his position as a leader, aware that he’s in a group, very aware of the pressure, so then from there, you get his conscious level projection.

His conscious level projection is within The Hierophant and the reversed Knight of Swords. Very interesting as this just screams “KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT.” I haven’t watched any of their stuff just yet, but he could be kind of stiff or shy in a way, maybe not in a quiet way but in a “guarded” way. Like he might have to think about what he’s going to say, or he could repeat the same answer to certain questions because he’s rehearsed the answers before to be safe. He’s not really hiding anything he’s just trying to stay in control.

It’s interesting because there is that “hard/soft” kind of vibe to him where internally he might feel very soft and vulnerable, but externally he could come off as kind of hard or stable. That would be the Sun and Moon mixing. He’s more familiar with his subconscious self, the voice in his head, the soft part, but he’s always projecting (and maybe sometimes OVERprojecting) his core which is based in Sagittarius. I’ve seen a bunch of people say that he really likes Jin and Jin is a Sagittarius that projects his core like he’s about to die tomorrow and has settled on living out his final hours with a “fuck you” mentality, which is just glorious. He’s relating to Jin, wanting to be like Jin, but he might not be fully aware that he’s IS JIN on a certain level because he’s more focused on the flaws or the shortcomings.

So, yeah, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with him, I don’t think he’s evil or anything, I think he’s just a nervous boy who’s been thrust into a position that no one can really be prepared for no matter how much training and advice you get. I’m sure he’ll find his footing soon enough he just has to get a grip on things and relax a bit more, which I imagine is extremely difficult to do.

As we all know TXT’s debut was nothing like BTS’. They did not, and they will not have a slow rise to fame and recognition. It was instant. They’ve already gotten some awards and there are A LOT of people arguing over whether or not they really deserve it, whether or not they’re actually talented, blablabla, I’m sure you’ve seen all of that. It’s very different, different circumstances that the members of BTS can fully relate to, so he’s kind of on his own in a sense with certain pressures and expectations and he’s trying to fill that role of LEADER. It’s difficult. I just really want to keep saying that for him, lol. It’s a difficult thing, it’s not easy, but he’s trying to make it stable and keep things in line because that’s his job and there are a lot of people watching.

Again, I don’t think he’s a bad person, he’s just giving off mixed signals without really meaning to. I’m not very familiar with him but energetically speaking, he seems like an absolute peach.

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