#i just need to get the insanity about c!dream and music out like i need someone to hear my insanity and level with it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pink-amethyst-tarot · 10 months

Text

The Universe has a message for you

Take what resonates and leave the rest, only you can decide what is truly right for you...

P I L E 1 - P I L E 2 - P I L E 3

P I L E 1

Strength, Two of Pentacles, Six of Pentacles, Page of Pentacles, Temperance, Nine of Pentacles

Bottom of the Deck: Ace of Swords

The universe is proud of you. You have found the strength and confidence to keep going even though you have been doing a balancing act, one you may have been doing alone. As I look at the Six of Pentacles, I see the scale in the hand of the person that is giving gold to the poor. I see this as a sign that when everything is balanced and settled, you will be able to give in a way that you have been wanting to. You have always been such a loyal and faithful person. Someone that people could always depend on. With the Temperance card, I'm getting that you have found the balance - so much talk of balance - that you needed so that you could take care of yourself as well as others. You learned how to put yourself first. That is paying off for you. You are about to achieve things you can't even imagine. You are being rewarded with success of all kinds because you put in the work. It will come to you like a vision. You may have been dreaming of this or will start dreaming of this new life soon. I'm also hearing something about clearing the path. The path is being cleared for you.

Channeled Message: I am clearing the path for you. Don't worry about a thing. I'm going to make those mountains into ant hills for you. I will move oceans for you. I've got you covered. Don't worry about a thing. I have been looking over you. You are protected.

If you want to know more about your own personal situation, see this post to find out how to book a reading with me.

If you feel called to bless me, my c@sh@pp is $oddlycozycottage

P I L E 2

Ten of Pentacles, Ten of Cups, The Lovers, The Moon (Reversed), Four of Pentacles, Queen of Wands, The Fool

Not only is this a love reading, but this is also a soulmate reading, so buckle up!!!

This energy feels so intense and glowy and beautiful! The first thing I heard was, "Do you know how lucky you are?" I don't even know where to begin! This is going to sound so insane, I don't even believe that I'm bout to say it but you're person is this sexy CEO type, like in those books. This person may make music or own a company related to music and entertainment. This so some happily-ever-after fairytale type of stuff! Y'all sharing the same values feels like something that's really important. I'm freaking out right now! I'm just so excited but slightly overwhelmed! This is the kind of person that you can come home to and they will ease your mind after a long day. I'm hearing, "It's okay, baby, I got you" AAAAAAAAHHH!!!! Like, this person isn't going to let anyone talk crap about you and that includes you. This person is going to be so protective over you and wanting to take care of you because you are their person!! They see you and see that you have been through some things, and they want to help you through that. This person wants to protect you from the world! I'm getting that this person could be a little bit jealous and maybe possessive, but they are aware of it and acknowledge that it's toxic and they work on that. You may meet this person at work or a work-related event. It will be like a movie where you lock eyes, and the words just seems to fall away. This is the kind of love that is healing, loving a nurturing. I'm also getting that your person is going to have you on their arm at these fancy events, like some high society type of stuff. Don't be afraid of this love when it comes in because it will change your life for the better. Wow.

Channeled Message: I'm on my way!! This is the sign you have been looking for. I am all that you have dreamed of and more. You are such a big part of me and I don't even know you. I am so lucky that you chose me. I'm going to show you off to the word. I am a fool for you, my love. I come off cold with others but that's only because I'm saving all of my warmth for you.

If you want to know more about your own personal situation, see this post to find out how to book a reading with me.

If you feel called to bless me, my c@sh@pp is $oddlycozycottage

P I L E 3

King of Swords, Queen of Swords, Four of Wands, Ace of Pentacles, The Hierophant, Page of Pentacles

Bottom of the Deck: Death

For some reason, the universe decided to turn this post into a soulmate post for 2/3 readings so here we are!

To put it plainly, you are about to come into union with your soulmate! I can see that you balance each other very well. One of you is very fun and witty and the other is very cool, calm and collected. Some of you might already be with your soulmate. Whether you are or are not, I can tell you this, you are marrying this person. This wedding is going to be the talk of the town too! Everyone will be celebrating your love. With this Ace of Pentacles, I am seeing that a new opportunity is what is going to bring you too together. It might be work related, like pile 2. (They might be connected so if you feel called to check it out, go for it!) This is something that you manifested. You prayed for this kind of love. I feel like this will be a traditional relationship in a lot of ways, however that may look to you. Specifically, I think it's the wedding that will have a lot of traditional elements to it. This is going to catch you so off guard. This is BIG! This person is going to make you so happy. It's going to feel like coming home.

If you want to know more about your own personal situation, see this post to find out how to book a reading with me.

If you feel called to bless me, my c@sh@pp is $oddlycozycottage

Page Divider by @bunnysrph

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. THESE READINGS ARE FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. no guarantees are implied. These readings are not a substitute or replacement for any professional help or services. My readings are not a substitute for any form of professional legal, medical/psychiatric, relationship, religious/spiritual or financial/ business advice nor consultations. You should always see a professional legal/trained adviser for help in any matter. I am not responsible for any decisions/ actions you take.

262 notes · View notes

fluffypotatey · 5 months

Note

OK SO! the tommyinnit 101. technically this isn't really tied to an smp though.

so first we must start at the very beginning. the dream smp. in late 2020-early 2021, the dream smp was at the height of its popularity, and tommyinnit played one of its most prominent characters (tommy, henceforth referred to as c!tommy). now the thing about c!tommy is that both he and cc!tommy (idk if i've talked about the c! vs cc! divide before but that is its own 101) were under 18 at the time, and therefore if you shipped his character with anyone about 70% of the fandom would tear you apart.

honestly dsmp isn't too relevant here, though, except to introduce tommy and tubbo. you see, in a world of straight men using their little block guys to flirt with one another, tommy was Very vocal about loving women. being Straight was part of his Bit in the same way that being Annoying and playing the able sisters music from animal crossing was.

anyways in late 2022 he uploaded a vlog of him and tubbo getting married, tubbo mostly against his will. they pulled out all the stops- got an ordained minister (their friend scott, who you may recognize from the life series 101s) to do a little ceremony, had a lot of their friends acting as different members of the wedding party, even signed and filed real paperwork!

yep. that's right. they signed legal fucking paperwork. i've heard that tubbo didn't even know it was a marriage certificate, he thought it was a waiver for being in the video or smth. that's right, known straight man tommyinnit tricked his best friend into getting Real Life Legally Married to him, presumably just for shits and giggles.

This fact went unnoticed until mid-late 2023. tubbo was playing on the QSMP with some other people (i know FitMC, not sure who else), and was joking about going to Vegas and getting married to Fit. and then tubbo realized he was still married to tommy.

also, around that time, tommy wrote and published (to wattpad) a rpf crack fic called Tommy x Tubbo Love Triangle, where tommy leaves his Real Life Girlfriend molly for tubbo (molly dies directly afterwards because it was so romantic) and then he and tubbo kiss without tongue. tubbo was not consulted during the production of this fanfiction.

after learning about the marriage, tubbo started working to get a Real Life Divorce from his Real Life Friend Tom. tommy refused to sign the paperwork. if any of this ever goes to court tubbo fully intends to livestream the whole thing.

around 2 months ago, tommy did a parody of "I'm Just Ken" called "I'm Just Tom," in which he begs tubbo not to divorce him. it must be seen to be believed. idk if the link will work in an ask but i need you to see it https://youtu.be/laAPXcxjDlI?si=wPQM3ZJHBIv11Cfr

also if you're wondering how molly, tommy's Real Life Girlfriend, feels about all of this? she thinks it's hilarious. for the past month or two-ish (?), tommy's been doing a stand-up comedy tour in america (because they are all british), and at the same time tubbo's been doing a subathon (aka tubbathon bc it's tubbo) (a subathon is a twitch stream with a timer on it. the stream ends when the timer finishes out, and whenever someone subscribes to the streamer's channel more time is added) (the tubbathon is still going btw and isn't slowing down anytime soon). at one point molly came onto the tubbathon, and tubbo bought her a new phone bc hers was shit. (directly afterwards tommy posted a vlog about it, saying he felt like he was being cucked by his gay husband)

fans have dubbed these three the nightmare polycule, and it's not hard to see why.

and then, finally, this morning (last night in england time), tommy and tubbo were on a phone call. tubbo (gay) encouraged tommy to "say the f slur!" and tommy said, and i quote, "I'm bicurious, so I guess I could say like a fifth of it. [Tochat] Hear that, ya -ggots?"

i needed to tell you all of this so that you would understand the full insanity of all of this. there are some bits that don't really translate unless you were a dsmp fan in the 2020-2021 era, but i need you to see the ongoing insanity this man creates. he had been planning to use that joke for his live comedy show

ok uh

wow

i some pointers on his singing voice (a bit too belty there, that'll damage the throat later, some vowels need rounding)

hilarious that he rhymed Tom with arm

reading this was like a fever dream

molly is me tbh this is the most hilarious drama i have ever read

his comedic timing is beautiful

what the fuck

#chaotic man indeed #asks #smp 101 with gumy #smp adjacent

13 notes · View notes

manwalksintobar · 10 months

Text

if we’ve gotta live underground and everybody’s got cancer/ will poetry be enuf? // Eisa Davis to Ntozake Shange

dear ntozake,

I got sacks of mercury under the skin beneath my eyes either cried too much or i’m abt to the cool war’s burnin up my retina again does poetry start where life ends? i know i’m supposed to be cool: i wear corrective lenses that feature high definition tragedy. baby in the dumpster ethnic cleansing assassinations multinational mergers i’m supposed to shake my head write a poem believe in ripples. but i ain’t cool. i emit inhuman noises i imagine terrorist acts as i flick my imaginary ash onto the imaginary tray i imagine going insane with a purpose and writing it down feels sorta unnecessary does poetry end where life begins? berkeley girl black girl red diaper baby born of the blood of the struggle but with reaganomics and prince pickin up steam in ‘81 nothing came between me and my calvins 10 yrs old unpressed hair playin beethoven readin madeleine l’engle got scared in my pants when i heard this girl testifying ‘TOUSSAINT’ in the black repertory group youth ensemble i was just sittin in a rockin chair pretendin to be 82 and talkin like I knew all bout langston’s ‘rivers’

i wasn’t as good as her and i definitely wadn’t cool so i gave up drama and decided to bake soufflés zake you wda beat me up in the playground if we’da grown up together and you did eighth grade ‘he dropped em’ at the regional oratorical competition i saw another fly honey rip it this time it’s ‘a nite with beau willie brown’ i was bleedin on the ground i became yours no more soufflés i jacked for colored girls right off my mama’s shelf my mama fania who was sweatin with you and raymond sawyer and ed mock and halifu osumare dancin on the grass back in the day in you i found a groove never knew i had one like that did that monologue over and over alone in my room my bunk bed the proscenium arch 13 yrs old screamin and cryin abt my kids gettin dropped out a window didn't know a damn thing about rivers but i knew abt my heart fallin five stories you were never abbreviated or lower case to me you just pimped that irony that global badass mackadocious funkology you not only had hígado you had ben-wa balls in yr pussy

betsey brown on my godmother's couch nappy edges in mendocino at the mouth of big river spell #7 after the earthquake in silverlake the love space demands had to be in brooklyn yr poems are invitations to live in yr body love letters yr admirers dream they coulda written themselves no one cd find a category that was yr size blackety black but never blacker than thou you teased me into sassiness when i had none to speak of made profane into sacred but never formed a church sanctified women's lives whether we were reading nietzsche or a box of kotex we were magical and regular you many-tongued st louis woman of barnard and barcelona you left us the residue of yr lust left us to wander life as freely as sassafrass cypress and indigo and even the unedumacated could get yr virtuosity cuz you always fried it up in grease you built an aqueduct from lorraine hansberry's groundwater and it bubbled straight to george c wolfe you never read what the critics said and you scrunched up the flesh between yr eyebrows like everybody else in my family

but zake is poetry enuf?

i beg the question cuz you grew me up you and adrienne kennedy and anna deavere smith and all my mothers you blew out the candles on my 26th so when there's mercury under the skin beneath my eyes and the world ain't so cool do you write a poem or a will?

like leroi jones said if bessie smith had killed some white people she wouldn't have needed that music so do we all write like amiri baraka does or do we all get our nat turner on?

i beg the question cuz i wanna get my life right do some real work and i really don't want to kill any white folk i mean can we talk abt this maybe it's just my red diaper that's itchin but i still got that will to uplift the race sans bootstraps or talented tenths or paper bag tests this time we uplift the human race and i know the rainbow might be but is poetry enuf?

it's a naive question but i'm old enuf to ask them once in a while if we do finally unload the canon clean it out stock up on some more colorful balls ain't we only gettin the ones that are available at a store near you? doesn't the market end up setting the new standards anyway? is poetry enuf if it ain't sellin? if ain't nobody readin it? can poetry keep a man who can't read from droppin his kids out a window?

and how can i call a ceasefire to this cool war in stanzas of eights when we've declared poetry a no fly zone? we have learned to protect it and its potential politics like a mother shoot down anyone who might overdetermine a poem's meaning (while we poets divebomb everyone else's politics with impunity like we're the United States or something)

if poetry is just poetry we save it from the conservatives but doesn't that mean it's of no use to the progressives?

is poetry enuf? cuz that's all i'm doin. makin up stories on stage on the page keepin the beat and that's all my friends are doin and that's what a lot of folks my age are doin

but if we've gone and burnt up everything in the sky if there's nothin else to eat but landfill stroganoff if we've gotta live underground and everybody's got cancer will poetry be enuf?

my aunt angela says i can do my thang and keep swinging left hooks to oppression if i stay up stay into it stay involved just one form of praxis will do. it's just my guilt that thinks i need twenty-two what's enuf?

shouldn't i (or somebody) be our secular bodhisattva become a real power player but skip the talk show can't we stabilize, rekindle collectives and cooperatives and collaborations therapeutic communities that double as creative juggernauts a publishing house a theatre where the plays cost less than the movies get the neighborhood coven back together take dance breaks in the cubicles sing until the flourescent lights burst into snow i ask you because you changed me zake you changed thousands of women and i know poetry can't be enuf if you drunk

i ain't tryin ta walk off wid alla yr stuff and i got nuttin but love for ya so that's why i gotta know i'm sittin on my bed encircled by every book you've ever published they're open like fans marking pages with the flint of genius all i want is for this circle to grow so tell me:

is this where poetry and life are twins? i felt so crumpled up when i started writing you poetry seemed so useless and dingy next to all the bright red bad news but now that the poem is over i feel wide open like an infant of the spring just tell me how to feed this light to my responsibilities and poetry just might be enuf love eisa

12 notes · View notes

sophaeros · 9 months

Note

3 13 15 20!!!!

3. humbug or tbh+c?

THIS IS AN EVIL EVIL QUESTION AND I CANNOT BELIEVE OP WOULD WRITE IT OR THAT YOU WOULD ASK ME THIS!!!!!! humbug is so very immortal for its moody unabashed horniness but tbhc is so..Is So.....when it hits you it really hits you. it's so cinematic and i can't help but love that. BUT HUMBUG..ITS PIVOTAL TURN AND OBLIQUE LYRICS......but also the narrative and Imagery of tbhc. i dont know i dont know i dont want to give a cop out answer. OK IDK MAYBE HUMBUG??it has a range of sounds that are nonetheless cohesive + i love how he switches between obfuscating clever wordplay and kitchen sink slices of miserable time. very hashtag inspiration. my new homescreen in progress is literally tbhc tho so WAILING EMOJI

13. what are some of your favourite lyrics alex has written? (doesn't have to be arctic monkeys, can also include tlsp/ other artist collaborations/the submarine soundtrack)

OK SO I HAVE A CHANNEL IN MY PERSONAL DISCORD SERVER FOR LINES THAT INSPIRE ME BC SOME OF THEM PISS ME OFF IN HOW THEY FEEL LIKE I COULD HAVE WRITTEN THEM IF I WAS JUST A LITTLE BETTER AND MORE WIRED. here are some

when the heat starts growing horns / she's thunderstorms

in the backroom of a bad dream (i'll feel bad if it turns out miles wrote this one)

like in my heart there's that hotel suite / and you've lived there so long / it's kind of strange now you're gone

is that vague sense of longing kinda tryna cause a scene?

LIKE FUCKIN..first one drives me insane forever i dont even know why. for one thing i'm forever in awe of how he slots words into melodies like i can't write music man maybe i'll learn this year but it blows my fucking mind how he makes them sound so good And that they rhyme. and his imagery is just off the charts like u listen to it and ur like fuck that makes so much SENSE even as ur hit w HOW THE FUCK DID HE THINK OF THAT. i can't even articulate what it is about shes thunderstorms that gets me so bad.

2 and 3 are just. idk i love how he conceptualises these abstract places. like it brings these nebulous feelings and vibes and locates them in a solid place but also with surreal imagery. idkidk it just blows my mind im so mad maybe i should make a compilation of lines like these

4 just hits hard bc it's saur relatable LMAO. just fuckin the phrase "cause a scene" with the vague feeling of longing.......URGH. song made for aimless artists having an identity and existential crisis.

15. favourite arctic monkeys b-side?

UMUM UM . SO VERY MANY. ok the on brand answer would be catapult but TRUTHFULLY i find myself always going back to too much to ask. every time it comes on i have to loop it at least twice. im just soooo very enraptured by how he captures the mundane and the slow frustration the impending sense of doom. the whole song has such a like..inevitable vibe. the song trucks on at a steady pace all leading toward the ending realisation that really you could already see coming from the very first line.

20. favourite record ender track?

GOD it's gotta be a three way tie between that's where youre wrong, i wanna be yours and the ultracheese. actually perfect sense is in there too. four way tie.

thats where youre wrong to me really encapsulates this breezy sense of melancholy thats so distinctive of the sias album. it just moves so lightly like a clear day when spring is shading into summer but it's so undeniably Sad. it coming after sias is the perfect one two punch of this exact vibe.

BUT I WANNA BE YOURS. MY BABY. I LOVE HER BADLY the simplicity of it the pure unadulterated longing and desperation. i would fucking do ANYTHING to be yours i would make myself so useful and devoted just for you to deign to say you need me. it just brings you to another dimension man. blast it on your headphones at 3am and you will unlock a never seen before depth of hell called longing. it just strips the whole am album down to its core (ie pleaesepleasepleaspelepalseplease text me back)

the ultracheese. lies down. it's everybody's favourite. and for GOOD REASON. the insanity of ending on a gutwrenchingly honest confession after an entire album about fantasy and escape. WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT KIND OF ACTUAL FUCKING SICKO ENDS ON "but i haven't stopped loving you once." ARGHHHH and musically it's like it's so very tbhc. is the best way i can say it. the tbhc album's sound and atmosphere put to fucking Work.

perfect sense makes me want to walk off a cliff and lie down in the dirt forever and ever and ever. if ultracheese was a confession perfect sense is a rumination. i was going to say it's like relief if relief tasted like whiskey but idk if i can even really say relief it's just like. i think it's also quite special to me because i do sincerely believe that by and large things will work out in the end and something unremarkable in your past will come to be the perfect solution in your future and back then it appeared just as it was meant to. it's like going on a long journey so that you could learn that where you began is what you needed and that doesnt mean the journey was a waste because you needed it yknow. i know there were people being like ohhh oh no tc is their last album and like perfect sense has such end of movie vibes but only the kind of ending where you know the characters are going to continue on past the end of the reel. yknow.

so idk maybe i will say either perfect sense or thats where youre wrong because i listen to thats where youre wrong a lot but clearly i have Feelings about perfect sense

thanks for the ask bug!! <3

#ask #folaireamh #ask game #arctic monkeys #i feel many things about am.......also idk if any of this makes sense becaus emuch of what i feel is difficult to articulate..!!#gonna sleep now will check my inbox again tmr!!

3 notes · View notes

pinkandgoldensoul · 1 year

Text

(Some) F1 drivers as guys I’ve met in high school

: ̗̀➛ Charles Leclerc - the fattest crush of my life. literally would turn red like a traffic light anytime I saw him enter the classroom and choke on my own saliva whenever he said hi to me. Not helpful, since he’s been my historical deskmate. I honestly don’t know how I survived sitting next to such a positive, fun, confident, trustworthy and shamelessly handsome guy. Brown hair, big green eyes either sparkling with childhood mischief or pure innocence, and the most athletic guy I’ve ever seen in real life (he’s a sportsman). Definitely had any girl lying at his feet - and he was extremely aware of it - but only cared about his girlfriend and never bragged about his charm. Humble af despite his family being quite wealthy and him being such a nice person. I’ve involuntarily been his point of reference for anything school-related and he’d blindly trust me, which always made my heart melt. He’s the type of guy you need to send a “let me just screenshot this so that I discuss it with my bff-lawyer before replying” text when you see a notification from him. And he’s also the one you look from afar, contemplating his senseless perfection. “I’m so lucky to live in the same historical and geological era” “I don’t know if I’m worthy of him” kind of vibe.

: ̗̀➛ Carlos Sainz - a unique type of nerd. At the beginning he deliberately ignored me. Then he started slowly talking to me about things he really enjoyed and, seeing I was okay with it, he began showing me books he liked, getting all excited in passionate perorations, lending them to me and demanding I’d give him my piece of mind. Also bought and gifted me for Christmas the copy of a novel he was reading ‘cause he thought I’d be interested (the weirdest and most awkward gift-receiving experience of my whole life. I’m not doing it again). Really liked to push all my buttons to see my reaction (but I ultimately gave him a lifetime lesson) and had a few banters. Don’t think we were really that compatible, he was too opinionated for me, but most of the times I enjoyed having conversations with him. Friendly jokes and benevolent banters with Charles; he’s been class representative for five years, once together with Max.

: ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen - the lonely, misunderstood genius. Didn’t give a crap about school and spent his free time riding motorbikes and getting hands dirty with engine oil. Everybody knew he was original (he had a lot of other hobbies and interests) and all my teachers always felt challenged by his way of thinking. Not afraid to speak up, at all. We’d never talked in five years, but during the dinner we had with all the professors before our finals, completely drunk, he sat next to me and started asking me things about my life. He seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say, but I think he struggled following the conversation since I had to repeat myself at times (he didn’t even hear a tipsy friend of his calling his name twice. “UH?! What?!”). It’s one of the deepest conversations I’ve had in my life. I think in another life we would’ve been good friends, at least. Elected class representative and we still don’t know how but ngl, it didn’t feel that wrong because we’ve always known he’s got that… plus.

: ̗̀➛ Lewis Hamilton - the dreamer. Not very focused on studying, but chased his dream of becoming a dancer like crazy. He was insanely good - like, national level - and skipped a lot of school days to attend competitions. Pretty energetic, confident, mr brightside; always blasting music through his wireless speaker whenever we got out and vibing. If he knew you had a dream, a passion or a special hobby, he’d push you and encourage you as much as possible. Incredible motivator and coach. S t y l i s h a s h e c k . Could rock anything but chose to beat us all every single day. Really good friend of Charles. Actually chatted with everybody, but wasn’t really that close with a lot of people.

: ̗̀➛ Alex Albon - the surprising kid. A mediocre student throughout the years, but actually a math and physics enthusiast and genius. He started to show signs of his abilities only in the last year and a half. The only one actually knowing what he was doing with formulas lmaooo Surely wasted in the type of high school I was in* and he acknowledged making the wrong decision, but he didn’t know back at the time he liked physics that much. One of the most chilled out and laid back people I’ve met, really pleasant to talk to. Would often find ourselves in bad situations and look at each other as to say: “It’s a mess, but nothing I hadn’t expected to happen anyway”. The defeated-but-we-already-knew-when-we-started resigned duo. * we mainly studied humanities. We also had physics and chemistry classes, but there are other types of high school more “science” oriented, which would’ve been way more suitable for his skills. #badchoices

: ̗̀➛ Valtteri Bottas - i haven’t figured him out. Like, he was pretty basic and easy to talk to, but had so many hidden interests. Currently studying aerospace engineering. Part-time cosplayer. His instagram posts have descriptions we’re still trying to decipher. Sometimes perceived as a low-key genius, others acting like a fool. I honestly don’t know what to think of him, he just confused me a lot lol.

: ̗̀➛ Bonus: Mick Schumacher - first love. From another class, but the same high school. A bit reserved at first, but the ultimate sweetheart. Thoughtful, polite, calm, soft-spoken, kind, just- you get it. Awkward hugs, talking on a bench for three hours as a first “date” and arguing about who’s going to pay for breakfast (‘cause I couldn’t accept him being the one to pay, like, we were just friends). That was the first time I felt the need to shower someone with love without caring about being reciprocated, at all. I’ve been in the friendzone - voluntarily - for 3 years only to get to know from a shared friend that he had got together with a girl four months prior but didn’t want/ didn’t know how to tell me. To this day he doesn’t know a thing. Not in love with him anymore, but unknowingly gave me the best thing I’ve ever felt.

#f1 fandom #f1 drivers #pink post #i don't know what this is #how do i tag it without feeling wrong?#such a pity nobody will read this...

5 notes · View notes

cquackity · 2 years

Note

FAMICO OH MY GODDDDD THANK YOU SO MUCH !!!!!!!!!! famico my everything <33333 ngl i dont remember the whole ost but was muddy the burying one boss battle theme????? bc burying one is my FAVORITE im so !!!!!! mgnfndmfnnfnfmgg cody and dogma make me genuinely insane. ive had exactly 1 au/fic idea for end roll and literally this alone is making me wanna revisit the tiny thing i wrote for it like FAWKKKKKKKKKKK i gotta replay end roll. only semi related have u ever heard 'the same things happening to me all the time even in my dreams' it is SUCHHHHHH a russell song to me fr like holy.shit. god. GODDDDD end roll. i always forgot how much i love it until its mentioned again

YES muddy is the burying one :D i thought that fight just seemed very You coded the music the visuals the everything. it's absolutely one of my favorite boss fights too, alongside the memory girl fight it's so beautiful and sad just AUGGGHHHH. augh. i would LOVE to hear about your end roll au/fic idea please tell me all about it. i'm gonna put my own end roll dsmp au idea under a read more i really want to work on mine too. you've got me thinking about end roll so fucking hard :') also YES i love that song one. two it IS such a good russell song. other russell songs i like of the same genre are visiting angels by elvis depressedly and goodnight / acid dreams by dandelion hands. i'd link my whole russell playlist but it's not up to date Yet i need to rework it saur so bad

okay so just brain dumping about my end roll au it's c!wilbur l'manberg era centric specifically (sorry no ctnt i promise) but like. halfway through limbo c!wilbur drifts off into a happy dream state to cope with it all. he wakes up in early l'manberg era, prior to any wars, and there's no conflict. so little conflict it's almost uncanny. everyone gets along, everyone is kind to him, etc. I've also played with the idea of having objects as enemies/that talk in the au like they do in end roll (like TNT, buttons, books, potion stands). but characters like schlatt are there, and they're happy - like schlatt never fell victim to his addiction issues, quackity works underneath him (unfortunate), shit like that. i'd probably have pogtopia era wilbur be the sort of informant, like working as sort of a reminder to wilbur: "You know what you're like. This is a dream. Don't forget that." y'know. yeah. just something fucked up and c!wilbur centric. i want to work with the au more and Plan Out things and i finally have the brain to do so

#SORRY this took so long to reply to. i have been off in my own little la la la la la land #thes answers

2 notes · View notes

thequeenofsheba-blog · 1 month

Text

Copenhagen Write-Up: Tasting Menu

TASTING MENUS

Koan: This meal was perhaps our most exciting in Copenhagen. We didn't know that we should be expecting a knock-out meal but that's what we got. Insanely delicious, very clean flavors, with clear Korean influences but it is by no means a Korean meal. And PERFECT technique. And that oolong tea souffle at the end, served with a side of ice cream and caviar is just the most insane ending. Incredible meal, and I could easily see Koan getting 3 stars very soon. The Korean liquor pairing is good (they have a Danish-Korean woman they get their Korean rice wines from and her bottles are really impressive) but the two cocktails on that menu arent great. The non-alcoholic pairing is excellent, and really, really pairs well with the food. This meal is not to be missed. Jordaener: Much of the meal here was superb- some of the best bites of our trip during the first half of the mean, including an incredible king crab tart, lobster tart, caviar and blue fin tuna tart, oyster and horseradish, etc. Such high highs. I would say that the two main dishes- the fish and the lobster tail- were well prepared but rather uninspired. The wines were all fantastic, though not so particularly paired to the dishes. The non-alcoholic pairing was meh.

Geranium: We came to Geranium years ago and had an incredible meal- and also perhaps the most beautiful we had ever had. We came back to find that the dishes are just as strong as ever, and as beautiful. There is no doubt that this is a 3 star meal of light, bright, delicious and highly technical dishes. The only negatives I would point to are- the head chef and his sous are now vegans and since covid the restaurant has removed all meat from the menu. This doesnt need to be a bad thing, many restaurants we went to in Scandinavia don’t serve meat, but in the case of Geranium this somehow translated into a delicious, expensive tasting menu where you were still hungry at the end of it, becuase there werent enough proteins; service isnt great; the dining room is BUSY, and almost feels like a train station with people coming and going. Still though, a fab meal. Great wine pairing- very classical. The non-alcoholic pairing was meh.

Alouette: the tasting menu here is lovely. The meal feels like a thoughtful progression. The dishes were all beautifully balanced, the sauces perfect, and some real punches of umami. The standout dish was a dish of beets and gooseberries that was out of this world. It was one of those 3* dishes that you enjoy every bite of, dream about later, and wish you could have again and again. The apple and schnapps palate cleanser was also superb. And the meat course, almost always the single most disappointing during a tasting menu, was fabulous. The buns you get at the end of the meal are so deliciously addictive- they give Frantzen's legendary madeleines a run for their money. Worth mentioning that chef Nick Curtin is the best kind of presence in the kitchen. We were sitting at the kitchen table, so were very close to the team and I have rarely, if ever, seen such a harmonious kitchen having so much fun together https://www.instagram.com/p/C-cq4X7tgh-/?img_index=1

Jatak: this place isn’t in the top star big leagues yet, but overall the chef served up an excellent meal, with lots of delicious bites. And of all the lobster tails we had in Copenhagen (and we had many) https://www.instagram.com/p/C-f0K4au4Y5/?img_index=1

Alchemist: I am so glad I went to Alchemist, if you can get a booking and are ready to spend that kind of money, it's worth it. You enter the space and leave reality, only to return to it when you leave 4 hours later. It is like no other evening u have ever had, and the rooms, music and visuals, coupled with the food, work beautifully and the experience is not gimmicky at all. In terms of the food, there were some amazing bites and many really interesting and impressive techniques. I wouldn't say though it was the best meal we had in Copenhagen, but to think of Alchemist as just a meal would be entirely missing the point. One challenge for chef Rasmus is that because he wants to serve you these 50 'impressions', almost everything you have is a 1 or 3 bite dish. This limits things slightly in terms of serving a complex dish that has different ingredients that changes bite by bite. But again, if you can get a booking and afford to go, it's totally worth it, no question.

Anaba: I can easily say this is the best sushi meal I have had in Europe. Great nigiri pieces that were all perfectly seasoned with rice of the right temp and very nice Shari. The plated dishes were also excellent. And wow did we get some great squid, scallop, clams and amazing uni. Excellent sake selection as well. This really is a sushi meal worth traveling for.

Mota: Mota was nice but perhaps not worth the drive all the way from Copenhagen. Some great dishes like a lovely, creamy cold opening soup, a delicious egg dish that had great textures and rich umami flavor, a buckwheat and celeriac cheese course, a celery yogurt mint palate cleanser that was really fab (I say that as someone who hates celery), and an awesome fried hemp and blackberry sorbet dessert. Some of the bigger plated dishes like the onion course were a bit one note and less successful. If you are in the area, then worth stopping by.

Søllerød Kro: If you want excellently prepared, traditional French food, then you come here. Unfortunately the atmosphere is so stuffy and uninspiring. And the chef's efforts to get creative (like a pea and vanilla desert) were not always successful. While the food is good, given the other options in CPH I wouldn't necessarily pick this as the spot to go to for classical French, over others.

0 notes

onethousandandone · 2 years

Text

a tribute to teenage love

Throughout my life I have experienced many new emotions. Some of them I often hope are a one time- never do again type of emotion, but some are so euphoric I chase them like a drug addict that will do anything for their next hit. My drug is love, or the feeling of being wanted to be more precise. The feeling of pure content. The last time I remember being completely at peace was my junior year of high school- dating my first boyfriend (I was absolutely convinced we were going to be together forever; I haven’t spoken to him in over 2 years now), I had good grades, and okay friends. Before that was all I needed. Everything is just so much more complicated now. I hate it. I wish I could say “Ugh, I just wish I could be a little kid again”, but I don’t want to ever be a little kid again. My childhood was arguably worse then my current C+ at best young adulthood. I keep waiting for my life to turn some kind of new leaf, and to change and somehow become more manageable but I don’t think it ever will. I recently came to the realization that I am simply unlucky. Strange coincidences of people in my life dying on the same day, meeting my “dream” guy two months before I moved away to college, literally everything has a fucking catch. I wonder what its like for things to go your way, as obnoxious as it sounds. Sometimes I wish I had a different life, that I was born into a different family, or in a different city or just that anything could possibly changed in my life that would make living a little bit easier. But of course not, it’s just not for me, the easy life. I was born and bred to deal with the hardest shit someone possibly could, and just to learn to somehow suppress it to such an extent that even I myself forget some of the things Ive experienced. Easier that way I think; even if everyone says its unhealthy: if I pretend nothing happened, maybe it will magically disappear or I will just start forgetting the worst bits and pieces until someone will just have to remind me it happened in the first place. Being unlucky is maybe a good thing, because at this point, what is there left for me to be disappointed about? Ive seen it all, Ive felt it all. I wonder if I will ever feel my favorite feeling again. Love. So silly, so cheesy, but I get it now.

I have been in love 1 and half times. I say half because I started to feel that familiar feeling recently, but it was ripped away by the worst factor of all: time. I ran out of it, I had to move away, move on with my life. And now I must pretend that 0.5 of love never happened. That maybe I had just imagined him, his hair and the tattoos and the music and the sex. It was just a very detailed dream, and maybe i’ll start to forget it soon, but just not yet. I just woke up and I remember it vividly; remembering is tiring, maybe i’ll fall asleep and dream of something else soon. Now the majority of the love I remember was years ago, a dream I had that stuck with me. All consuming and crazy and toxic and aggressive and insane and : so in love. Him I forget now, I forget what he looked like and how he spoke and just everything about him. I think everything about me changed after Him. It was too much at 16, and I could never let myself do that again. Feel that way, let myself completely dissolve into someone. I almost let it happen the second time around, but I always knew in the back of my mind that I never could again. Another cliche, but I just truly wouldn’t survive it. I think losing myself in someone else again would strip away whatever sense of the pure and soft humanity I have left.

“I am nothing if not an incredibly soft woman“

1 note · View note

twenytwenytwo · 2 years

Text

Dec 12 2022 (4:00pm)

Here’s a question: to what degree was my massive commitment to music an expression of fear toward not being able to do anything else as good?

The basic aim of music, at least a career in it, is to impress. That’s a career minded goal, to impress.

The goal of becoming a full time musician wasn’t to bring peace, balance and stability to my life, it was to avoid having to do things that I was not good at. Things that were complicated that I didn’t like. Things that might make me feel dumb or bad, or make it clear to me that my skills there were sub-par. (You can’t be good at everything, not even par, for the record).

I think of someone who grew up in a large bustling household, mom, dad, siblings. I didn’t, so I don’t naturally seek to recreate that social bustle, stability, familiarity in my life. If I did have that sort of upbringing, I’d probably be far more attracted to getting a job and building myself a strong foundation that family and friends and such could be supported on.

Home for me was an escape from the world though. It was the one place where I could be left alone, and play lego, build a vision, some fun and fantastic, simple and pure. That’s kinda what pursuing music is all about for me, building an ideal.

The problem is, home was, in fact, more than that to me. It was a place to convene with family and friends and have fun, and live life happily. Eat together, watch TV together, be together. Home is where you’re together, where you learn and grow, where you can escape from the world.

I suppose part of my challenging period right now, and something I’ve obviously been trying to articulate and integrate, is that I have not acknowledged that that is my ideal, swimming around in the unconscious. My passion for music was so intense that there was no room for anything else. Not to mention, I was still within that home structure then, so I did not even have the urge to recreate it anew.

I want a great job so that I can create a great home that models what I’ve loved about all the homes that my mother has made for me. She has made so many great homes for me, always food, always had everything I wanted (wow), I had room to explore and relax and have fun and be myself. Of course there are things I didn’t like, but I honestly can’t think of much past my current disgust with the amount of clutter and general refuse.

I want a home. That is my masculine urge, to make a home where everybody comes together and lives and laughs and explores and learns, and loves, and cares for one another.

I want to be a great provider like my mom. My mom was the ultimate builder in my life. She gave me something to build on, by providing me with a rock solid foundation that never ever so much as wiggled.

That is my best destination, to distill the best of what my mother has taught me into a home, and to be an artist of course, which at this point is just practice and continuing to explore life and challenge myself.

Pursuing music head on was exactly what I needed to do. To jump as high as I could with my insane youthful spirit and see how high I could get. Luckily, I didn’t fly off into the sky, I touched back down hard to the foundation I started. Now, I get to build something 10 times, 100 times better with what I’ve learned. I’ll build up to my dreams, instead of trying to jump up to them. It’s too much for a single leap, so I need to build a tower up. (These metaphors may be meandering heavily, but I like them.)

I guess part of my occasional weird vibes with home are that I feel like I’ve grown so much these past years, but I’m back in my same room, same house, places that are somewhat symbolic of a past time.

The reality of that is, this is my home, and I am gifted. This is my home where I started out on the greatest, most challenging journey I have ever departed on. It’s not the shining temple that I wanted to reach, but it’s home and it welcomes me back with open arms, myself bruised and battered, ready to help me create the next masterpiece of my life. It’s my workshop.

0 notes

transgothicgenre · 2 years

Text

bleed out liveblogging

training montage: excellent as always. chorus is my favorite part mostly because the imagery of the other verses are discordant for me for some reason, but it still goes hard as fuck

mark on you: i think i actually only listened to this a few times before the album released and originally i only liked the chorus but the song as a whole is incredible. revenge songs my beloved

wage wars get rich die handsome: please release an instrumental/karaoke track of this one it goes so hard. it goes so hard even without the lyrics. i don't think i'm allowed to drive while listening to this one. the abrupt ending is so sexy tbh

extraction point: first new one yippee!!! i like how fast-paced it sounds especially juxtaposed with the calmness of the vocals. every time johnny boy mentions dreams in his lyrics that song gets +1 so this one is doing really great for me so far. loving the chorus. the vocals are quieter than the rest of the album has been so far which is throwing me off a little bit but i can vibe with it

bones don't rust: OH HOH HOH. the lyrics on this one immediately have me going ham. i didn't type anything else i was too busy listening to the song

first blood: reminds me of corsican mastiff stride. it's very upbeat and i'm grooving to it. there are a lot of references to things in this song that i don't understand but that's half of all tmg music so i'll just close my eyes and imagine what they mean and also check genius lyrics in a few days. "we worship nothing in the foxholes" reminds me of a poem! i will find it later

make you suffer: another revenge song let's fucking goooooo. i will have to listen a few times to figure out how to fit the second verse into the rest of the song but i understand on a subconscious level. AW YEAAAH another +1 for mentioning dreams. don't give up on revenge you always need to strive for it!!! adding this to the list of songs i'm not allowed to drive while listening to. oh my god the OUTRO. delicious

guys on every corner: why do you as a man have guys on every corner (original joke by yadriel(c) 2022). that aside the rhyming is really winning for me. big enjoyer of this song. it really reminds me of fight club which is a red flag if anyone else says it but don't worry guys i'm a weirdo. the last verse is decadent fuck yes

hostages: hey why is this one so long. ohhhh man it's good. i know each song in this album is telling the story of a mini action movie and whatnot but i think, excluding the fact that i haven't listened to the last 3 yet, that this one accomplishes that the best for the format. does that make sense? like the story it's telling is best told through a song and the song is the best vessel for telling the story. if i say it reminds me of die hard does bruce willis come out of the vents and kill me

need more bandages: oh DELIGHTFUL. i am already shouting the chorus while driving despite not being in a car at all. this one reminds me of tintin but like. the bad guys from tintin. y'know? i was really into tintin when i was younger. WHEN THE SHOVELS BREAK WE'VE STILL GOT OUR FINGERNAILS!!!!!! once again +1 for the dream. this one also reminds me of mad max fury road oddly enough. you're right mr goats we ARE going to need more bandages

incandescent ruins: i like the chorus. i have to admit i spent the majority of the time listening to this trying to parse the lyrics and their meaning. again this is one that i'll have to listen to a few times and get to know before i have more thoughts about it but it's very pleasant to listen to

bleed out: 30 seconds in and this is already . woagh. wow. he's gonna bleed out yknow? "every story needs a child...end up just like me" these lyrics are fucking insane. AND THE PAPER RUSTLING NOISES RIGHT AFTER? the g in mountain goats stands for genius. okay wow. this is already one of my top favorites from this album . once again it is 7 minutes long but i completely understand why it's 7 minutes long because it literally couldn't be not 7 minutes long. i love how the last song on albums always feels like a sledgehammer to the ribs. the mountain goats truly understand how to do it. the way jd's voice is cracking toward the end of the song is the cherry on top.

album thoughts as a whole: definitely going to convince my coworkers to play this tonight at work. pretty much all of the song titles are great and i'm a big fan. they really slayed!!!

#post #the mountain goats #bleed out

38 notes · View notes

bluerasbunny · 7 months

Text

you know what. fuck it im getting autistic on main

C!DREAM AS JH/ARIAH SONGS. (read under the cut!!)

starting with THE MOST fitting one!!

who's eye is it anyway is so him it is insane. it's so post-vault dream in the imprisoned sam era. 'an eye for an eye'. literally. like literally an eye for an eye i need everyone to hear how much this fits c!dream.

i'd have to paste all the lyrics in i'm not doing that. all of them fit. listen to it you'll see what i mean

THSI ONE. FITS SO WELL.

Is it really a complex or just lacking context? Why would someone go so far to be a walking lie? Yeah, that don't sound like me I don't think I'm that guy (enter beginner's guide)

c!dream being severely misunderstood, lacking in context, a walking lie that he went as far as he possibly could for. you see it right

That I would lose (needed a change of pace) Oh, I would lose Between my left and right, one day I'd have to choose (gone without a chance) He found the man before him had died

first of all these are lyrics from BAD LUCK!! which is the most discduo song ever. second only to want you gone from portal 2.

second of all 'gone without a chance' 'he found the man before him had died' do i even.

the abandonment of himself in the haste of his mission.

Slow down Those words mean nothing My brain just revs up faster Pressure bomb in a goddamn knife fight Ecstatic pathways runaway flood my mind Overstimulation makes me feel like I'm alive

Static that's keeping me up It drives me forward every moment Makes sure I don't stop too long to Smell the flowers I been here too long I might Burn up and explode

I get in the way of myself And it hurts to admit That sometimes I'm unequipped To handle It all on my own But why do it alone It's cause I know I'll never slow down

I'm at the end of my means From idolizing a made-up man Who one day could be me But does version sleep at night Or ever take a minute to just breathe Or Just to be

honestly i can't even. explain this one properly?? like with any evidence for it?? i just think it resembles his psyche and 'guy that is always running around doing SOMETHING' thing

this one is SO discduo. holy shit it is so fucking discduo it is insane how discduo this is.

"You're not like me, I'm not like you I'm not who these things happen to" And that's exactly what you say before they do

tommy. tommy with the 'You're not like me, i'm not like you, i'm not who these things happen to' and the responding line. its so them it is so them OGH

Hand in hand come human error and plain bad luck It seems the timing's always wrong For the ones who wait too long You'll never catch a break you'll have to make your own

'Hand in hand come human error and plain bad luck.' i am. INSANE about corellating this to discduo. tommy is human error dream is plain bad luck. by the way. or it could be the other way around it works either way

That I would lose Oh I would lose Between my left and right, I'd one day have to choose You're not like me, I'm not like you. I'm not who these things happen to And that's exactly what you say before it catches up to you Before you play with knives and find yourself in two You, you, you, you

first point except with the new lines fitting discduo even more. like

I finally climbed to heights I No matter how I try Can't descend Still, somehow they're looking down on me Laughing cause I got what I deserved (You got what you deserved)

And I would do it again I'm not sorry but thank you For enduring me As long as you did That's more than I'd ever ask of you

LIKE. DO I EVEN. HELLO? HELLO. HELLO??? YOU SEE THIS RIGHT.

that final part is LITERALYL the discduo finale like. it is insane. it is insane

okay. hear me out. manhunt energy, yes, but ALSO.

Before I knew I'd live to Savor this day I'm taking off To my own grave I'm running away

So watch me disappear before your eyes And catch me if you can

Catch me, catch me, misplace and mismatch me Tie your shoes in knots but you’ll never harass me Find me, find me, I dare you to try I’ll bet on my survival But now you’re gonna die out there

Where could I be? Walking among you or inside your own homes? Or perhaps there's a part of me in all of you. (Hahaha!)

i cant even explain my thought process with this one i just need you guys to match my brainwaves honestly. like you get me (probably)

So catch me if you can Catch me if you dare Venture through the foul and you'll see what's fair Catch me if you can Catch me if you dare You'll find me through the fog and the filthy air

'Venture through the foul and you'll see what's fair' SNAKES DON'T JUST BITE.

Another grave for the digger with the crimson blade I ain't a saint or a sinner I'm the ghost you made

I fucking dare you, You wouldn't know a good hook if it impaled you That chorus isn't yours, eighty-five is for the label So are you able to take the blame, As a pawn to the winner of a losing game?

FUCKING. DISC DUO. IT'S DISC DUO MAN. I MEAN COME ON THAT LAST LYRIC. I AM DERANGED

im going to gain a reputation as the guy that tags c!dream to songs and then does the worlds worst attempts at analysis posts on them and well maybe im okay with that

#grayy rambles #dreblr #c!dream #long post #i am so sorry for my constant rambles on msuic i will. put art out eventually #i just need to get the insanity about c!dream and music out like i need someone to hear my insanity and level with it #surely someone sees my vision. surely #(cut up the jh/ariah in the post because i dont.. want people that arent c!dream enjoyers to find this i fear i will get mauled)#Spotify

9 notes · View notes

ptergwen · 3 years

Text

sensation

w/c: 4.6k

warnings: some swearing, suggestive tings, and a pretty bad ending

summary: it’s the last night of your world tour, and tom has the perfect way to celebrate

a/n: i know y’all have been waiting for this one! everyone really loved when worlds collide but i ran out of ideas for it lol sorry... anyways my solution was to turn it into a oneshot :D based off the au!! i’m honestly nervous about posting this cuz a lot of you asked for it and i don’t wanna disappoint but i tried my absolute hardest to make it special <3 please enjoy

“thank you so much! we love you!” you shout to the audience, laughing breathlessly when they shout back. one of your dancers pulls you into a side hug, you throwing your arm around his neck. “we’re so fucking lucky you chose us, that you came all the way here. i’ve seen some of you back at night one. wow.” your voice gets wobbly, thinking about how loyal your fans are.

the tour started in new york, and they’ve followed you here to london.

tonight is an emotional night for everyone. you’re about to wrap your last show before you continue again in the summer. touring the u.k. has been a dream, and you’re just as thrilled to travel the rest of the world after your break. it’s bittersweet because you’re going to miss the hell out of your crew and the millions of lovely faces you’ve sang to each week. but, you do get to spend your time off with a special someone.

he’s watching you from the sound booth, sending fond smiles and loud cheers your way. thanks to you, tom has been at every show you’ve played in england. he brought harry along this time because he’s also a fan and wanted to see you. well, tom is more than a fan at this point. you’d say he’s more of a boyfriend. you haven’t discussed labels just yet.

your dates have mainly been over facetime, since you live on opposite sides of the world with insane schedules. a heartthrob actor and international popstar is quite the combination. you’ve only seen each other in person a couple of times, the first being pretty recently.

zendaya brought tom along to hang out with you in los angeles. he happened to be there recording some lines for a movie. she saw your concert earlier that night and invited him to crash the dinner plans you’d made, resulting in the best surprise and most fun you’ve ever had. the other time you enjoyed each other’s company was one weekend in paris. that was... something.

besides those two miracles, everything between you and tom happens through a screen. you’ll down bottles of champagne or keep warm under blankets while talking about your days. it’s nice, having someone on the other end who listens and actually hears you. tom gets it. you both do.

finishing your tour in london is convenient because not only will you have tom to comfort you, but you get to stick around for a while. he’s invited you to stay at his place. you can’t wait to meet the other holland’s, his friends, and obviously tessa.

“fuck, i’m gonna cry. i’m already crying,” you announce to the crowd, though they can tell from the tears streaming down your face. more dancers huddle around you and turn your single hug into a group one. you’re laughing and sobbing and holding on tight to everyone. fans bawl their own eyes out, the fact that this is it starting to settle in. the onstage crew even gets choked up, seeing you like this.

tom pouts from where he’s watching. he wishes he could run up there and squeeze you tight, but he’ll have to save that for when you’re done.

“i love you all so much, literally every single one of you in this room,” you tell everyone for the nth time tonight, swiping a perfectly manicured finger under your eyes. “my lighting crew, sound crew, my band, my fearless fucking dancers-“ a hiccup cuts you off. people burst into fits of giggles, which is a much needed tension breaker. you adjust your headset so the mic doesn’t pick up any other bodily noises.

grinning, you rest your arm on a shorter dancer’s shoulder, then go on. “sorry, sorry. i just wanna say, like, three more thank you’s before i get out of here.” there’s a chorus of no’s and encouraging whistles at the mention of you leaving. you blink back more tears to delay the breakdown you’re going to have. “thank you to my friends who always show up for me.”

with a knowing smile, you glance over at tom. “and, thank you to my more than a friend.” he smiles back, both hands held over his heart. harry elbows him in congratulations. more screaming erupts from the crowd as they realize where you’re looking and who you’re looking at. this will be sure to spark some headlines. whatever, you’re used to trending on every possible social media platform by now.

“this is the big one,” you preface, taking in a breath while everyone quiets down again. “thank you to you guys. for trusting me, for caring about what i have to say in any way. i feel your love. i really do, and i hope you feel mine.” your fans yell that they love you back, dancers gently swaying you side to side, emotions on high. there’s one last song, and it’s over.

“this has been the sensation tour, and i’ve been your host. was i good?” you try to lighten the mood, earning a bunch of what sound like positive shrieks. the earpiece you have in makes it hard to tell. “y’all were even better.” exchanging looks with your dancers, you pull out of the hug so you can get to your mark for the finale. they follow your lead. music comes through the speakers.

“i’ll see you again soon, okay? i promise. here’s sensation,” you introduce the song, immediately bursting into more tears. it’s torture to say goodbye. thankfully, you have the most incredible fans on earth, so they sing along with you at the top of their lungs. that includes tom and harry, your ultimate stans.

when the show is over, you run right off stage and over to tom. he’s waiting on the side with actual heart eyes for you. you practically leap into his arms, a hand cradling the back of his head, both his arms draped low and tight around your body.

“you were so amazing up there! absolutely smashed it, darling,” tom breathes out. his face is smushed between your neck and mostly bare chest. “thanks, tom. seriously, thanks for being here tonight and every other.” you smile a tired smile and wind your other arm around his neck. he presses some light you’re welcome kisses to your skin. “mm, thanks for having me. how’s it feel to be done?”

you sigh, fingers running through his curls. “like the biggest relief, and also really sad.” you’re such a mess that you could cry again on the spot. tom senses it and lifts his head up to see if you’re alright. “super depressing,” you surprisingly reiterate without the waterworks. “i know the feeling. you’ll be back soon, though. you said it,” he murmurs, a grin on his lips as they brush against the corner of yours.

you’re about to kiss him properly, then one of your dancers comes up to you. you’d forgotten that there are still stage managers and security everywhere, too. you get completely lost in tom whenever you’re together.

“you killed, babe,” coco greets you, linking your arm in hers. tom takes the hint and lets go of you. he watches on with a smirk. “nah, you murdered,” you send the compliment back and bite your lower lip. “i dunno, i feel like someone murdered me!” there’s coco with her dramatics. she’s genuinely hilarious, your shared sense of humor playing a huge part in your friendship.

she brings your free hand to her heart. you gasp at how fast it’s going. “that shit is really beating, coco. are you, like, okay?” “probably not. it was the freestyle that got me.” coco went a lot harder than usual tonight, since it was her last big dance break for a while. she puffs air from her cheeks and nods to tom. “this your man?”

“yeah, you could say that. i’m tom,” he answers, holding out a hand for her. “coco.” she pulls it like you would in a handshake. you beam at them, one of your best friends and unofficial boyfriend finally meeting. “sounds promising. i approve,” coco mutters to you. bumping your hip into hers playfully, you take one of tom’s hands in both of yours.

“aw, we have your blessing or something? your permission?” you coo and get a push at your shoulder from coco in return. tom chuckles, his thumb running over the back of your hand. “no! i was gonna say you should bring him out back,” coco clarifies, like it was obvious. you’re not sure what she’s on about. “uh, what’s out back?” you question. “an axe?” tom teases.

coco gestures to the nearest exit. “we’re having a little goodbye party in the parking lot. fire pit, snacks. remember?” nope, you’d completely forgotten. the idea first sounded like the perfect way to end your night, so you agreed to go. that was before you were dripping sweat and mentally exhausted. now, all you want to do is unwind with tom and tom only.

the superstar life is one you’re happy to lead, just not at this exact moment.

“i do now.” you muster up your most apologetic smile for coco, tugging on tom’s hand. “i’m sorry, co. i think we’re gonna pass.” her jaw drops. you’re never one to skip these things. “aw, for real? it’s our last night!” tom threads his fingers through yours while you talk. “bro, we’ve been together for almost a whole year,” you laugh out, nuzzling your cheek into tom’s chest. “get sick of me.”

“never,” coco deadpans. she catches you gazing up at tom, relaxing as his arms hug your middle. she’s known you long enough to tell what’s a fling and what’s real love for you. this is something special, and she can’t get in the way of it. she’ll let you navigate this yourself. “ok, just for tonight. you’ll text me?” coco gives you a real smile, raising an eyebrow at tom. he gathers that’s a good thing. he’s in.

“mhm. maybe we can hang out tomorrow,” you agree and let your eyes flutter shut. all that’s keeping you up are tom’s strong arms. “tell everyone i love them.” “i think they know.” coco shakes her head lightheartedly. tom laughs at her. “be good,” she tells him and means it, rubbing your back on her way to the lot. that leaves you and tom alone at last.

custodians are cleaning up the arena, fans are piling out, and you’re clinging to tom while his steady heartbeat grounds you. this is the only after party you need.

“harry’s got the car when you’re ready,” tom mumbles, tucking a piece of damp hair behind your ear. you loop your arms around his torso with a hum. “i was kinda wondering where he went.” “yeah?” he gives you a small smile. “gotta ask what he thought... of the show.” yawns are creeping past your lips, tonight’s events catching up to you.

“i like feedback from the fans, or stans,” you elaborate in your sleepy state. tom uses his fingertips to tap your temple. “what about me? i’m your biggest.” “i’ll, um, follow up with you later.” your words are slurring. “right now, home.” warmth spreads throughout tom’s entire body, his house becoming yours for a bit. “your chariot awaits,” he affirms before helping you to your dressing room.

after collecting your things, you follow tom out to the car. harry is in the driver’s seat, and you two slip into the back. he exchanges a look with his brother through the mirror while you settle on his shoulder. you’re hugging his bicep, his lips pressing to the side of your head.

“thank you for driving,” you speak softly to harry. he starts to pull out of the spot with a nod. “no problem. get to say i was y/n y/l/n’s chauffeur.” tom clicks his tongue even though harry is joking. you snicker at his remark, joking back. “you want the job? better be a five star ride, then.” your banter brings yet another smile to tom’s face. his family is everything to him, so seeing you get along so well means the most.

“right, right. did you have a good time?” harry wonders, twisting to see behind him while he turns around. he also peeks at you snuggled up to tom before facing forward. “great, actually. did you?” you check, the grin clear in your voice. harry goes into full stan mode. “no shit! you were brilliant, y/n. god, every note was just like how you did it the studio.” he’s raving, which is much appreciated by you.

“good answer.” tom shoots his brother a wink. “‘s that what you wanted to hear?” he asks in reference to your conversation earlier. your response is a kiss to his shoulder. “yay. i’m happy you liked it, harry.” he buzzes with excitement, having his favorite artist care what he thinks.

not much is said for the rest of the drive. tom and harry make some hushed conversation about golfing this weekend while you struggle to stay awake. they’re obsessed with that damn sport. it’s honestly nice to see, that tom has something he likes to do when he isn’t shooting hollywood’s biggest movies. your free time will finally give you the chance to discover other hobbies.

you stumble out of the car upon arriving to the boys’ place, a backpack on your shoulders and tom’s hand held tight in yours. you’ve got only a few essentials with you for tonight. the rest is on the tour bus, so you’ll gather it after your hangout with coco. besides, everything you need at the moment is right here.

“home sweet home,” tom announces as harry unlocks the front door. his words bring a tired smile to your face. “finally,” you exhale, keeping your fingers laced with tom’s and following the two of them inside. “i could show you around a bit, give you the grand tour. or-“ tom stops talking, feeling your weight on him. harry huffs at how oblivious his brother is.

“mate, she’s falling over. save it,” he suggests and kicks the door shut lazily. you’re done in. you’ve been having to lean on tom since the show ended. “another time, then,” tom mumbles, securing his arm around your waist. “there is one thing i wanna see.” your voice is low, body curled into tom’s side. he raises an eyebrow. “and that is?” “your room.”

tom takes that in a suggestive way, like he does most things. “we’re getting right to it, are we?” he questions, harry gagging and you nudging his arm with your head. “not like that, dummy. ‘cuz i’m sleepy.” there’s a beat of silence. “ask me again in-“ “wow, look at the time!” harry interrupts so he doesn’t have to hear the details. he’s sure he’ll witness enough after it happens. “off to bed i go! goodnight.”

he rushes to get to his room, yelling out, “great show, y/n!” on the way. “thank you! night!” you call back, tom letting out a sigh. “div of the century,” he says under his breath. “must run in the family,” you playfully retort. that gets you a firm poke at your side. “where’s everyone else?” you glance up at him. there should be two other idiots and a lovely, furry lady running around.

“tuwaine’s gone to the pub, harrison’s filming late, and tess is at mum and dad’s,” tom fills you in, grabbing your arm and draping it around his middle. doing him one better, you hug him with both. you squint in confusion about the last part. “they watch her when i’m out,” tom answers your unspoken question. “ah,” you nod, then deflate ever so slightly. “i wanted to meet her, though. the other boys, too.”

tom smooths the pad of his thumb over your cheek. “you will, darling. it’s only for tonight.” he kisses the same spot reassuringly. “we’ve got loads of time.” “yeah, we do,” you agree, instantly cheering up and letting your head fall onto his chest. “now, where’s your room?” “just upstairs. you need some help getting in?” he’s only playing around, but you accept, tightening your arms around his neck.

“show me the way,” you beam at him. “happy to.” tom wiggles his eyebrows, you jumping up. your legs wrap around his waist, his arms holding you against him. with a satisfied hum, you squish your face into his insanely soft shirt. “what a diva,” tom sarcastically complains while taking you to the staircase. “doesn’t even say please. no manners from this one.”

“you try dancing in six inch heels for two hours,” you shoot back, patting the side of his neck. he moves one hand down to your thigh for a better grip. you’re nearing the top of the stairs. “think i’ll leave that to you,” he decides and squeezes your thigh. “look at me, carrying the whole music industry.” your face easily gets hot and your words turn to murmurs. “shut up. you should listen to other songs.”

you’re on the second floor now, tom going for the first door. he frowns at his rejected compliment. “no, i like yours. they’re my favorite.” “really?” your muffled laugh sounds from his chest. “what was the first thing i ever said to you?” he asks, a toothy grin on him even though you can’t see it. you recall the faithful night he slid into your dms while he carries you into his room.

he’d tripped over his words somehow, the fangirling fool. before that, he tweeted to the whole world that he wanted to see you in concert. it was a huge thing, and people were freaking out about it, even more so when your online interactions became routine. that’s nothing compared to where you are now.

you’re currently living with him and basically dating. possibly, in love. the base of it all really is your music.

“that you love me.” you pause for the ellipses. the corners of your lips turn up. “but, you really meant to say my work.” “both apply.” tom passes that off like it’s a side comment, carefully laying you down on his bed. you look up at him with a curious glint in your eyes. “what does that mean?” his cheeks flush, and he bites back the smile that’s growing. this was supposed to go... differently.

you sit up, breathing out a laugh at tom’s boyish behavior. he’s precious, truly. “you do love me?” those three words will change everything if he says yes. he takes both your hands in his and holds them between you two. you meet his doe eyes. “yeah, y/n/n. i do.” so, you were right. “i love you... and, that wasn’t how i planned on saying it.” signaling for him to elaborate, you tilt your head to the side.

tom sits down next to and faces you before continuing. “it was supposed to be romantic, right?” he rolls his eyes up to the ceiling, annoyed he ruined this. “candlelit dinner, flowers, that sort of thing. seems more fitting for the occasion.” you shift closer to him until your knees are touching. your face is lit up, voice dropped to almost a whisper.

“since when do we do things the way we’re supposed to?” you point out and set your hands on his shoulders. “we’ve gone straight from online dating to me moving in. that’s usually not how it works.” tom chuckles lowly. his own hands find their place on your hips. you’re so good with words. then again, you are a singer. “guess you could say we’re, um, spontaneous,” he agrees, fingers drawing circles on you.

you and tom have explored some of each other’s most intimate places, yet you’ve never shared a moment quite like this. it’s like meeting him for the first time again. he’s too tongue tied to spit out what he wants. you somehow know, anyway. what you cherish most about your relationship is that you two completely and totally understand one another, on every level.

“tom?” you speak quietly, butterflies filling up your body. “hm?” he hums back. this is one of those moments where it all just clicks. “i love you. i really, really love you.” you giggle out of the pure happiness that consumes you, tom joining in your laughter. “i love you, too.” he sounds like he’s said it a million times and he’ll say it a million more. he leans over so his forehead rests on yours. “really, really love you.”

your warm breath hits his face, eyes darting from his own to his lips. “i want you to be more than...” you trail off, unsure of how to phrase it. “more than... more than a friend?” tom pokes fun at what you said during the show. there’s less and less space between you with every second. “you mean, like, a boyfriend?”

“exactly. be my boyfriend,” you all but demand. you’re half asleep and desperate to be able to call him yours already. “bossy, bossy, bossy,” tom chastises, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip. how he goes from being shy and giddy to the cockiest person alive in minutes, you’ll never know. “please?” you throw in to sway him. your hand locks with his, slowly moving it off your face.

you run your tongue over your teeth. “at least kiss me.” “you don’t have to ask,” tom breathes, lips now ghosting over yours. “i was going to.” true to his words, he closes the microscopic gap between you, you pushing forward against him as you kiss back. your first kiss in love. his lips taste like the chapstick he always uses, and he moves them softly.

he places a hand on your knee, you opening your mouth so he can have access to it. instead, a yawn exits. tom pulls back with a breathy laugh. “you must be exhausted, yeah? let’s get you to bed.” he pecks your lips once more. “my girl needs her beauty rest.” that confirms your relationship. you scrunch your nose and grin wide. “and, she’s gonna get some with her boy.”

you’re reminded of how sweaty you are when you catch a whiff. “oof, wait. do you think i can take a shower first?” you grimace, fanning at the air for emphasis. tom uses the tip of his nose to nudge yours. “absolutely. need help in there, too?” he’s not asking in that way, only so nothing happens. the hospital wouldn’t be the most pleasant place to spend your break. plus, he doesn’t want to be without you too long.

“you know what? yeah.”

that’s how you end up intertwined under the hot water, letting it cascade down your back as tom hugs you close to him. you sigh in content and tangle your fingers in his fluffed over curls. you’ve learned that he’s super into having his hair played with. it’s endearing, how he instinctively leans into your touch, eyes closing as you tug on the roots.

he drops his head down to kiss your shoulder, dragging his lips to your collarbone in a way that tickles. they land on one of your breasts next. there isn’t anything sexual about it, only loving. just in case he gets too excited because it’s not uncommon he does, you gently put a finger to his lips. tom takes the hint and lets up. you continue combing through his wet hair while you step out of the water.

“do you ever sing in the shower?” he questions, drawing your naked body in closer to his. “sometimes, yeah. i honestly feel like i sound better there,” you admit and slide your hand down to the nape of his neck. tom’s tongue darts out to lick his lips. “not true. you sound beautiful everywhere, and don’t fight me on this one.” he smirks in satisfaction, you groaning at your loss.

“i really enjoy hearing your voice when it blares through an arena, though,” tom keeps buttering you up. you shake your head and settle both arms around his neck. “man, i just love you so much.” “i love you, sweetheart,” he murmurs back, you switching places so he can give his hair a final rinse. you watch him and his glowing body, admiring the sight.

“what a sensation you are,” you say mostly to yourself, which doesn’t stop him from hearing. “i see what you did there.” he eyes you while you do the same to him. your arms still around his neck pull him back to you. “tommy? do you sing in the shower?” you meant to ask him before, then he started throwing all those compliments at you.

tom scoffs, walking you back so you’re against the wall. “i don’t sing anywhere.” “what?” you gasp and put a hand on his chest. “you’re lying, you have to be. wasn’t billy elliot a musical?” he narrows his eyes at you as he tries to gage where you’re going with this. “that i did a decade ago, and way before puberty. couldn’t sing a word without cracking after that.”

your mouth is left hanging open in shock and disappointment. you bet he has a nice voice, and he’s downplaying it. “y/n,” tom begins, cupping your jaw with his palm. “since we’re living together now, there’s a lot you’re going the learn about me. good things, weird things.” he shrugs casually. “this is one of the weird things.”

“only because you make it weird! come on, let me hear you,” you request and wrap a leg around his waist. you’re giving him a hopeful smile. “god, no. you’ll hate it,” he almost laughs, a hand on your thigh. “i’m literally a singer. how could i hate something i love?” you refute, batting your lashes at him. “especially when someone i love is doing it.” “i love you, too. but, i’m not.” he’s quick to shut you down.

“drop a bar!” you try to coax him, which he already has a comeback for. “you first.” “i can’t. my throat is all scratchy from earlier,” you lie. tom presses his lips into a line, feigning pity. “aw, you know what’ll make you feel better? tea. i’ll go get you some.” he turns to shut the water off, so you grab his shoulders. “no, the steam is working. you can stay.”

“love,” tom addresses you in a warning tone that you can’t take seriously. he can’t either, a giggle escaping him. “my voice is shit. ask anyone, and they’ll tell you.” “i won’t believe them,” you hum, pushing back curls sticking to his forehead. “sounds like you just have stage fright. we can work on that, though.” “how?” he tightens his arm around your middle.

“i’ll bring you on for my next show. we’ll do a little duet.” you’re joking, though that would definitely be interesting to see unfold. “uh, never. what happened to you being tired?” tom cleverly deflects and digs his fingers into your side. you look down in defeat. “i forgot about that.” “yeah, yeah. no, seriously. we should really get to sleep, y/n/n.” he’s back to his sweet, attentive self. “‘s been a long night.”

giving in with a nod, you capture his lips in yet another kiss. tom never gets tired of them, and neither do you. you break it after a few seconds, lips lingering on his as they detach. “carry me?” you ask again, not caring how whiny you sound. tom presses a quick kiss to your forehead. “oh, you’re adorable. of course.”

well, you’ve found something to keep you occupied until the next leg of tour. you’re going to discover the many layers your intriguingly unusual boyfriend has.

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland au #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x singer!reader #tom holland request #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader

469 notes · View notes

queensoybean0724 · 3 years

Text

Succession Chapter 1 (Karl Heisenberg/female reader) Resident Evil Village fic

Here is chapter one of my new fanfic!

Title: Succession

Characters: Karl Heisenberg, female reader, OCs

Rating: PG-13 for language and intense scenes (for now, this is a slow burn, but it will get very hot and spicy in later chapters)

Summary: You discover a long lost relative from Moldova that you didn’t know existed has died and you are his sole beneficiary. You are on board a plane to collect your inheritance when your plane crashes in a village in Romania.

Author’s Notes: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village. This is a work of fiction. Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter 1

The music blasted from the car speakers as you drove down the main road towards the highway. You had your phone plugged into your car stereo, your favorite Spotify playlist on shuffle. Despite the A/C being on full blast, beads of sweat formed at your brow and rolled down your temple. You adjusted the vents on either side of you, making sure the cold air directly hit your body. The song that was playing had you tapping your fingers on the steering wheel, your head bopping to the beat.

The fridge at home was close to empty and it was beyond time for you to go grocery shopping. The grocery list was secure in your purse and you were determined to stick to the items on the list and not make any frivolous purchases. Money was tight and you only had so much money left before payday next week.

The song shut off suddenly followed by your ringtone. Looking at the screen of your phone, UNKNOWN stared back at you. Probably a spam call, you thought to yourself, reaching to press the red Ignore button. Unfortunately, your finger slid at the last minute and mistakenly tapped the Accept button. You watched as the call came through and the seconds ticked off. FUCK!

“Hello?” you greeted with a hint of exasperation in your voice.

“Hello, am I speaking with Miss Y/N?” a heavily accented male voice responded.

“Yeah, this is she,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. You tried your best to avoid these calls, ignoring them and letting them go straight to voicemail. Very rarely was it followed with an actual message, which was more than fine with you.

“Miss Y/N, my name is Ron M. Dathermi. I am a lawyer residing in Chisinau, Moldova in Eastern Europe…”

You raised your eyebrows at that. Moldova? Who the hell was calling you from Moldova? Chalking it up to a scam, you were about to interrupt the man when he continued.

“...I wish I was calling under better circumstances, but I’m afraid I have some bad news. Your great uncle, Serghei Popa, has passed away from a short illness and has named you his sole beneficiary…”

You couldn’t help the amused huff that came out of your mouth. This must be some very elaborate scam.

“Umm...sorry, but I think you have the wrong person. I don’t have family from Moldova and I have never heard of this man in my whole life.” You were about to hit the End button when Mr. Dathermi continued.

“Am I speaking with Y/N, born on (your birthday) to (your father and mother’s full names) and the granddaughter of (your grandfather and grandmother on both sides of your family)?”

Your eyes widened at that. “Yeah, that’s me…” you answered.

“I know this may sound unusual, but Mr. Popa was the brother of your grandmother on your mother’s side. He was given up for adoption at birth and taken in by a Moldovan family. He did not have a spouse and had no children, and according to the genealogy report I have before me, your grandmother and your mother are both deceased. Your mother was an only child, yes? It appears to me that you are the last of his living relatives.”

You pulled off the road and into an empty parking lot. The information you were being given was a lot to handle. You didn’t have that large of a family. You were an only child and raised by your parents and both sets of grandparents. Both of your grandfathers had died before you turned 10. Both grandmothers died within 5 years of each other and your father and mother died of illnesses, cancer and pneumonia respectively, in the last year. Grief was a feeling that you knew better than anyone. You kept to yourself mostly and you didn’t have any close friends or a significant other.

“Listen,” you began, “you are correct about all of your information, but how do I know this is not some kind of scam?”

The man on the other end of the phone cleared his throat and the sound of shuffling papers met your ears. “I can imagine that this information is sudden and unusual. What I will do is send a copy of his will and a copy of the genealogy papers to your address. I encourage you to take this to your lawyer and have them look over the information. The reason I am calling is because I need you to fly to Moldova, sign these papers, and accept the monetary inheritance that he has left you.”

Your jaw dropped as you looked down at your phone. Fly to Moldova? Is this true? The only thing you knew about the country was that a foreign exchange student from high school was born and raised in Moldova. That about sums up your knowledge of the country. This seemed incredibly asinine and ridiculous. But the word that settled in your train of thought was “inheritance.” What inheritance?

“Mr...what was your name again?” you asked.

“Mr. Dathermi, but you can call me Ron,” the lawyer responded.

“Ron...umm, how much monetary inheritance are we talking about?”

More shuffling of papers was on the other side of the phone, Ron clicking his tongue as he looked through the information. “He has left you 53,806,746 Moldovan Leu...which translates to $3,000,000 in American currency.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!?!” you exclaimed before clamping your lips shut. You heard Ron chuckle. “I’m sorry, pardon my language. It’s just...wow...this sounds insane…”

“I can imagine it does,” Ron replied, “which is why I want to mail this information to you and have your attorney take a look at it so you know this is a legitimate will and testament. If you would like, I can mail the information straight to your attorney if you are still leery.”

“No, no, that’s okay,” you said, shaking your head. Your mind was whirling. None of this sounded remotely true. You felt as if you were dreaming. This felt like something that only happened in books and fairy tales...a girl who had nothing and nobody suddenly inheriting millions of dollars from an unknown distant relative. What are the odds of something like this happening in real life? You gave Ron Dathermi your home address.

“Thank you very much, Miss Y/N. I will send this as soon as possible. I’ll also include my business card so your attorney can contact me and we can iron out the details. Thank you very much, Y/N...I’ll be in touch.”

You thanked him as well and ended the call. All alone in your car in the empty parking lot, you let out an excited squeal and started hopping up and down.

You adjusted the messenger bag that was slung across your shoulder as you heard the overhead speaker call for the boarding of your flight. Taking a deep breath, you got in line, extended your ticket to the airport employee, and walked down the tarmac and into the plane.

Butterflies were fluttering in your stomach. Your hands gripped your bag tightly as the flight attendant looked at your boarding pass and pointed down the aisle to where you were to be seated. You had never flown before and your nerves were on alert. Scenes from Final Destination flashed in your head as you walked down the aisle towards your seat. Taking a deep breath and willing your body to relax, you located your seat next to the window and sat down, plopping your bag onto your lap.

The small window was close to the wing of the plane and looking beyond that was a long expanse of grass that met a vast forest. You were thankful that you had the window seat and your headphones so you could tune everything out and relax in your own little world.

Once the papers from Mr. Dathermi arrived a week prior, you immediately called the attorney that helped you with the probate and will from your parents’ deaths several months back. He was more than happy to help, knowing that you were all alone in the world after your parents had passed. Two days later, he called to inform you that all of the paperwork was, in fact, legitimate and that Mr. Serghei Popa was the brother of your grandmother. He showed you the adoption papers, confirming that your great uncle had been put up for adoption and the family that took him in had relocated to Moldova when he was two years old. He had remained in the country until his death. Your attorney contacted Mr. Dathermi, who in turn secured a round trip plane ticket in order for you to come to Moldova to finalize the paperwork and collect the inheritance.

At the thought of the money you were about to acquire, another surge of excitement flowed through you. Your parents hadn’t left you much after their death and you worked at a dead-end job that had no room for advancement and no possibility for raises. All of these recent events sounded like something out of a fairy tale.

“This is your captain speaking,” the voice sounded from the speaker above your head, “we will be departing in the next ten minutes. Please make sure your seatbelts are secured, your tray tables are up, and all electronics are off until we are at the appropriate cruising altitude. I will inform everyone as soon as the coast is clear. Thank you for flying with us and enjoy the ride.”

You fastened your seatbelt and laid your head back, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Don’t be nervous…” a voice sounded next to you. You opened your eyes and looked over to see an older gentleman with wide rimmed glasses and a nice smile.

“Is it that obvious?” you asked, returning his smile.

“It’s pretty obvious,” he chuckled, “my name is Bruce Williams. I’m the air marshal on board this flight.” You told him your name and shook his hand. “Just relax,” he assured, “we’ll be flying for the next 10 hours. There are lots of movies and tv shows to watch on the screen in front of you, or you can listen to your music and read a book if you brought one.”

You patted your messenger bag. “Yeah, I have a few books to choose from. Thanks,” you smiled.

Within minutes, the plane had backed away from the tarmac, turned towards the long expanse of runway, and increased speed before leaving the ground and soaring up into the clouds.

The steady hum of the plane’s engines provided a relaxed soundtrack as you slept. It was close to early morning, according to the clock on the tv screen, but your watch was still on your regular time zone. It read early afternoon and that threw you through a loop. You had heard that jet lag could be a bitch and you wondered how bad yours would be once you landed. Bruce had passed you a pillow and blanket once you were ready to sleep and he assured you that your bag and belongings would be safe while you slept.

You were so thankful to be seated next to him. Not only was he the air marshal, but he was a really cool person as well. You two talked about movies and actually watched a couple of them on the tv screen in front of you. Bruce was kind and nice to talk to. The crinkle of crow’s feet around his eyes, his laugh, and his hair color mixed with hints of gray reminded you of your father...maybe that’s why you liked him so much.

You shifted in your seat and let out a soft yawn. Stretching your arms above your head and arching your back, you wondered how much longer it would be until you touched down in Moldova.

“You weren’t asleep that long,” Bruce murmured. You looked over to see a book in his hand and his glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom and then go back to sleep,” you replied, standing from your seat. Bruce stood up and allowed you out into the aisle. You made your way to the bathroom towards the back of the plane. The cabin was dark with little lights dotting either side of the aisle on the floor. Soft lights were shining here and there from people reading, watching the tv screen, or messing with their phones while most of the passengers were asleep.

Once in the bathroom, you did your business, flushed the toilet, and began washing your hands. The mirror in front of you showed a tired and weary version of yourself. Some of your eye makeup was smudged. You told yourself once you returned back to your seat, you’d retrieve the makeup remover wipes in your bag and do away with the dirt and oil.

Just then the plane hit an air pocket and dropped several feet, throwing you forward towards the sink and mirror. You let out a shriek as the plane quieted and went still. “God dammit,” you muttered, putting your hand over your heart, “that scared the shit out of me!”

Once out of the bathroom, you slammed the door shut and walked back to your seat. You tapped Bruce on the shoulder and he moved aside.

You lifted the window shade and looked outside. Natural light from the start of the day began to show. The plane was amongst the clouds so it was fairly cloudy and hard to see.

“How much farther do we have?” you asked Bruce. He shifted the book to his left hand and looked down at his wristwatch. “We should be there in three hours. I think we are flying over Romania right now…”

You nodded your head and thanked him, turning back to the window. The clouds gave way momentarily and provided the opportunity to see the ground below. Tall, snowy mountains came into view. You smiled and marveled at their beauty, wondering what mountain range this was. You cursed yourself for forgetting the basics from your World Geography class in high school. Hell, all you knew about Romania was that it was the setting for Dracula and the real life territory that was once owned by Elizabeth Bathory, who allegedly killed upwards of 650 maidens and bathed in their blood. You shook your head and smiled to yourself. You really did enjoy some morbid and fucked up stories.

Your train of thought stopped short when a large and spacious castle came into view. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped. It looked like something out of a Disney movie or from ancient castles that still sat throughout Europe. The place looked like it stood on several acres of land and who knows how many square feet. What a gorgeous and breathtaking place it was. You wondered just what was inside a monstrosity like that and who was lucky enough to inhabit such a place. Maybe there were castles in Moldova that you could explore and visit while you’re conducting your business.

The castle fell out of view and not far from it stood what looked like a village. You were too high up to see any people or any traces of lights or torches. You took everything in with total awe and appreciation. It looked like a small and sleepy storybook town.

A sudden movement close to the village caught your attention. You squinted your eyes and tried to look closer, pressing your forehead to the window. What the fuck is that, you wondered. It looked like a black tree, naked of leaves or any type of growth...and it was moving. It looked to be swaying in the breeze, but the size of it looked way too sturdy for any kind of gust to move it with such fluidity. As you focused on the tree, it appeared to be growing...getting closer to the plane. Was the plane descending? Were you getting closer to Moldova?

One of the branches of the tree slowly drifted to the ground before extending long and rigid, slinging itself up into the air like a bullwhip, hitting the wing of the plane. The plane suddenly tilted as the slithering limb wrapped around the wing and broke it off. You let out a loud scream as the plane turned on its side, Bruce falling against you, squishing you to the wall. “WHAT THE FUCK??” Bruce screamed as yelps, shrieks, and screams echoed in the cabin of the plane. Dozens of people were knocked from their seats, flight attendants falling into the aisle and rolling towards the cockpit. The plane shook and quaked as it dropped several feet in a matter of seconds.

“OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!” you screamed, grabbing hold of Bruce’s arm. The air masks dropped from overhead and Bruce grabbed yours, making quick work of putting it over your face. “HOLD ON TO IT! HOLD IT OVER YOUR MOUTH, Y/N!!” he commanded, reaching for his own mask.

“THE WING OF THE PLANE HAS BEEN DAMAGED!” the pilot yelled from over the speakers, “WE ARE LOSING ALTITUDE! BRACE FOR IMPACT!” People screamed and panicked, holding on to whatever it was they could. Panic surged through your body as your fingers dug into Bruce’s arm. The plane shook as it fell. Your stomach dropped and it felt as if you were seconds from impact. You looked out the window one last time before the ground came into view and everything went black.

He leaned over the body on the metal table in the lab of his factory. He fastened the bolts with a wrench and tested the strength of the metal against the rotting flesh. A soft horn sounded in the distance along with the various turns of chains and clangs of steel against steel. He wiped the sweat off his brow and walked to his desk, looking over the blueprints and sketches he had devised the previous day.

Despite the different array of sounds, nothing could mask the loud crash that sounded off in the distance. He lifted his head, silently trying to figure out what the fuck made that noise. Leaving the body laying on the table, he exited his lab and made his way down the stairs and to the factory doors.

With a grunt, he slid the doors aside and looked off into the distance. Black smoke billowed from an area that looked to be close to the village. Other than the crows squawking and flapping their wings in retreat, everything was dead quiet. He looked off to the right just in time to see the long, spindly limbs of mold retreating back towards the earth. Karl Heisenberg’s face tightened in a disgusted grimace.

“Mother Miranda...what have you done?”

#resident evil village #resident evil village fanfic #karl heisenberg #karl heisenburg x reader #daddy heisenberg #house heisenberg #heisenberg #karl heisenberg fanfic

315 notes · View notes

balillee · 3 years

Text

my unpopular dsmp opinions, some of which genuinely should be popular

c!dream has crossed the moral event horizon and is irredeemable. once you cross that threshold, you're no longer a 'morally grey' character.

pre-recorded, heavily produced lore killed the lore. it was cool, sure, but you completely misunderstand the magic that the smp had when people watched it initially. the story is improv and that's how we like it. we can tell the cc's have lost interest in it, you can admit that to us, we'll understand, just stop lying to me.

c!dream's pov isn't necessary to understand his character or his motivations. if you've watched literally any c!primeboys stream he's basically spelled it out for you.

i don't understand how fans can dislike l'manberg or have claimed to be against it since the beginning. i honestly don't get it. what's so bad about wanting your own spot where you make your own rules and skirt accountability that has been used to technically oppress you before - and, before someone who never saw the earlier streams tries to disagree with this, the og l'manberg crew were imprisoned for shit that everyone else on the server was practically encouraged to do. also, what do you have against fun and happiness?

i think some of you forget that 'hybrids' aren't a thing, discounting c!ranboo. there's no piglin hybrids, c!techno is just a pig. there's no avian hybrids, c!phil is just a man with wings. there's no creeper hybrids, c!sam is just a creeper who's indecently exposed from the hips down. canonically there's no hybrids, and therefore no hybrid discrimination. people ran with that concept too much.

the loss and the fanon rewriting of the early lore up until pogtopia has ruined fandom perception of c!dream and the og l'manberg boys. c!tommy is more morally white than you think he is, and c!dream has always been a villain - he massacres and he kills and he destroys and he schemes and he always has broken his own rules. no wonder the boys wanted their own space after how they were treated.

i think ranboo oftentimes forgets his own lore. he brings stuff up that c!ranboo may have done, such as exploding the community house to frame c!tommy, holding onto Cat, and it goes absolutely nowhere. we've gotten all of these developments in his story but they have never been expanded on, and we're nowhere closer to figuring out his relationship to c!dream and what his other side is and honestly i see no hope that we'll be any closer to knowing even by the end of the year.

your characters don't all have to be morally grey for the story itself to be morally grey. this is fiction - some people can be nothing but evil and others can be nothing but good. being purely good or evil doesn't mean that you're one dimensional, either.

c!dream apologists have ruined c!dream for me. he's not a good person. how about you let me enjoy a villain for who he actually is, rather for than your percieved woobified ragdoll you pass off as c!dream.

the story was better when there was a central writer. it was brilliant back when wilbur wrote it to be that the environment drives the characters and the story, and it was really good in early s2 up until techno's execution day when it was more character driven. since then, the amount of autonomy people have over their characters without any central 'director', as it were, has been a detriment to the story overall. there needs to still be one overarching figure or director or writer.

not everyone is a main character. just because they have a pov, doesn't mean they're a main character. some characters have such little impact on the overall plot and describing everyone as a main character oversaturates the story and makes some characters seem more important than they are.

the egg lore had so much potential up until it didn't. all that built up threat that we were expecting and we still don't even know what the egg wants really other than just controlling people. does it hatch?

genuinely, if there's no major plot developments by the end of the year (and let's be honest, it's a very big possibility at this point), a few of the more prominent members of the server should do a podcast style stream talking about where the story would have gone, because at least then we would have gotten somewhat closer to a conclusion.

c!techno is a villain and an asshole and a bad person. he stops caring for people once their interests don't align with his or if they look at him funny. he makes meta-jokes about his own tyrannical and oppressive nature. stop taking that away from him. he's a bad person. cc!techno does a fabulous job portraying that in a comedic manner and the balancing of him being a deeply flawed person with deeply flawed morals and ideas with his comedically-portrayed stubbornness and lack of willingness to hear out opposing viewpoints is incredible. i want to like characters who are arseholes for the sake of being arseholes, and who refuse to take into account the hurt they've caused either out of self-righteousness or because they don't care, so let me. he's the anti-peacemaker, LET ME HIM ENJOY HIM FOR THAT!!!!

i think tommy and wilbur's way of doing lore is my favourite. relies heavily on improv, voice acting, sprite acting and facial expressions. really shows off the acting props and they pull off the emotional moments well for the insanity of the creative medium.

i'm not a fan of fan-music. i find songs about media i'm into difficult to listen to. coincidentally i'm also not a fan of shit like slam poetry or live music/musicals/pantomimes.

the death of l'manberg killed people's motivation to go on the server casually. i've talked about it more in depth before, but destroying what was a central, driving environment for the story killed momentum and motivation. imagine in an episode of she-ra, the princess alliance just nuke the freight zone and all of the members of the horde just have to deal with it. that would be shit.

until season 3 has some momentum, i'm counting the end of the smp as january 20th. that had a conclusion. season 3 has... whores, technoblade and tommyinnit. that's about it.

i wasn't a fan of the development of c!tubbo joining las nevadas. i preferred snowchester and the walled city conflict. give c!tubbo some backbone and some badassery. also tubbo where's the fucking nuke bro if you're shelving that plotline just tell us on like an alt stream what the plan was i beg

add like 2 or 3 new people to the server so that michael mcchill has someone to talk to and so that there's something always happening on the server. it gives the og's more motivation to return if things are happening in and out of canon and it'll help with momentum, and who knows? maybe they can write their own story/stories.

i really think that c!sam is an underrated character. he's multilayered, extremely interesting, and the dichotomy of his loyalty to his job and how far down the rabbithole that's taken him versus the genuine love he has for his friends that drives him to do what he does out of wanting to do right by them is brilliant. i don't talk about c!sam enough.

STOP HAVING FUCKING VILLAIN ARCS!!! I'M FUCKIN SICK OF IT!!!! i want to see more characters who see everyone else being absolute selfish, abhorrent cunts and go 'if nobody else is going to be a good person, i fucking will'. GIVE ME SOME MORAL WHITENESS!!! IT'S INTERESTING AND MORALLY GOOD CHARACTERS ARE FUN!!!

let tommyinnit build cobblestone towers. everyone bullied him too much for how ugly they were and the one he built outside of the prison looked genuinely really nice. it gives the boy something to do.

i'm a fan of the revive book and the canon lives system. don't ask me why, but i think it might just be the morbidity of it. it adds to c!dream's god complex persona, and i think the fragility of death itself is a really fun concept. not enough fan cc's have made connections with that and c!mumza, and it could make for cool fanfic.

ranboo your house is fucking ugly. it's an eyesore

c!niki, and to some extent now c!jack and c!fundy, are boring me and ruining my mood. i think c!jack is the closest to being an actually interesting sympathetic villain, mainly because nobody else seems to realise that c!niki is a villain. not a good one imo, but she's a villain. c!jack just has the problem of starting a new project over and over and over and over again and because of the slow in momentum for the primary cast, there hasn't been a lot of recent development for him.

not really a dream smp opinion, but if philza went full geordie accent, i would love it. i want him to, in canon, say shit like 'me n ye' instead of 'me and you' and use geordie dialect. i want him to be physically unintelligible because it's funny.

i don't really know what's up with c!foolish but i think he's a dumbass. he had a while to think about c!q's proposal and then changed his mind about joining the guy to admitted to letting him die just because. moron

i wish there was more c!eret lore. i wish he was an actual king with an actual kingdom and actual subjects and royal advisors. c!eret is far too fucking cool to be the king of nothing and nobody. fatten up the kingdom and the castle with people who work with c!eret, and don't just make it tyrannical and dictator-y to prove the point of the server's 'anarchists'. make it a healthy working environment, please - if you want moral greyness, have 'anarchists' who claim to care about the welfare of the server oppose a kingdom of happy people under a fair and just ruler because their ideologies clash.

the server needs more characters who oppose anarchy in more peaceful ways, or passively wish for systems to be a part of. i think a chaos vs order conflict ending only in mutual understanding where everyone understands that they should just leave each other alone would slot nicely into the story that's been created so far.

you need to have watched all of the previous arcs to understand the story. i've seen people argue that they don't need to know about earlier lore to understand the prison, but that's the equivalent of only watching the final season of pretty little liars and expecting to understand the context of what's going on.

some characters aren't that morally grey. some characters, take c!tommy for example, are definitely on the whiter side for the morality scale, he's just an asshole. he's abrasive and rude and a dickhead but he also doesn't agree with terrorism, he's patriotic, he strives for a better world, he's apologetic, but he's also a fucking BITCH.

you can add onto this if you want, but not if you're a c!dream apologist. nobody likes your opinions

#dream smp #dsmp #esclaposhitpost

79 notes · View notes

weelittleweasley · 4 years

Text

cant take my eyes off of you (g.w.)

prompt: george feels like he’s on top of the world when he’s with you and he needs to let you know how he feels.

pairing: george weasley x fem! gryffindor reader

warnings: underage drinking, intoxication, dirty dancing, sexual references (blink and you’ll miss it), language

word count: 2.7k

taglist: @rosaliepostsstuff @harrysweasleys @gcdricreads @lumos-barnes @whizboingies @lumosandnoxwriting @pxroxide-prinxcesss @c-t-h @lol-idk-oops @another-lonely-heart-blog @kaseyrose96-blog @hufflepuff5972 @gryffindcrghost @wand3ringr0s3 @parseltongueswriting @shilohpug @peachypotter @spacexcowgirl @paintballkid711 @vogueweasley

It wouldn’t be a common room victory celebration without a surplus of various booze, music loud enough to shatter your ear drum, and random students scattered around dancing and screaming to the music. It was a sensory overload at its finest, but you wouldn’t want it any other way. The quidditch victory was well earned against Hufflepuff and the team wanted to celebrate properly. This ultimately translated to getting absolutely hammered before 10pm.

You stood in the corner of the room, standing next to Hermione and Ginny, sipping on whatever drink Lee had poured you. To be honest, you couldn’t make out what it was; it was a cocktail of miscellaneous liquors that would be sure to have you regretting this decision in the morning.

As you sipped on your beverage, you turned to your two friends and gave them a sneaky smile as the music gets turned up even louder. “Oh, no,” Hermione started. “Don’t give me that look.”

“What? I just want to dance,” you start to back up towards the dance floor, pulling Ginny along with you as she laughs. “Come on, Granger! Loosen up!”

You and Ginny immediately start to break out into dance, swinging your hips to the music as Ginny chugs the rest of the drink in her cup, you following suit. The liquor is sweet, but burns your throat and warms your chest. When you finish it, you throw your cup to the ground and give into the pulsating base. Ginny laughs as you throw your hands in the air and scream sing the lyrics to the song. It was nice to finally loosen up after a long week.

But you halt your dancing when you feel two arms wrap around your waist, lip attaching themselves to your neck. You immediately flip around to see your George staring back at you, a drunk smile on his lips as a low chuckle fall from his mouth. “You scared me,” you place a hand on your chest before leaning into him, his arms pulling close against his chest.

George’s goofy grin remains on his face as he ducks his head down to press a kiss to your lips. His lips taste of whiskey, his kiss intoxicating you better than the alcohol. George mumbles against your lips, “Figured I’d join you on the dance floor.” He smiles before kissing you again, you smiling and shaking your head, his lips kissing yours against, harder as you place your hand on the back of his neck, drawing him closer to you. The bass of the music pounded through the floor and shook your core as your heart beat faster as George continued to kiss you on the dance floor. Any memory of what you were doing before George came along slipped out of your mind and all you could focus on was the way his body moved against yours as he kissed you.

His hands are gripping your hips as you pull away, hips moving against each other in sync, a smirk on George’s lips. Your faces are inches apart as you giggle, pressed against each other in a sea of bodies on the dance floor. People around you wolf whistled as you danced against George, his eyes not daring to leave yours for a moment. You pressed your backside against George, grinding yourself on him with a cheeky smirk. It was enough to drive George absolutely mad, the look of your body pressed against his, your body feeling the music, rocking against him. It was making his pulse quicken and his face heat up.

He spun you back around to look him in the eyes, a challenging grin on your lips when you saw the lust in his eyes, only being amplified by the alcohol coursing through his veins. “You are trouble,” George tells you with a laugh in his voice, making you bite down on your bottom lip, pulling the soft flesh in between your teeth. George looked unreal in this moment; his chocolate eyes dark with desire, hair messy from running his fingers through it, t-shirt clinging to every muscle on his arms, chest, and torso. Oh, the things you would do if you were alone.

Daring to make him sweat even more, you pull him down so you can whisper in his ear. “What are you gonna do about it? Punish me?” you ask, tease laced in your voice, before you nibble on his ear gently, causing him to hold back a deep groan. With one hand on his chest, you push him away, giving him the most innocent look you can, big doe eyes that plead naiveté. George shakes his head as he presses his tongue to his cheek, knowing damn well what you were doing. “I’m getting another drink, I’ll be back,” you tell him with a wink. “Don’t go anywhere.”

George just laughs, “Oh, I’m stay right where the fuck I am.” You shake your head and laugh before leaving the dance floor, back to the table where all the liquor was lined up.

Mixed bottles half full scattered around the table as people crowded around as Ron stood on a chair, his Gryffindor tied around his head as he held up a bottle of fire whiskey, pouring the liquor into people’s mouth as they opened them. The sight was enough to make you laugh; Ron Weasley, assuming his brothers’ old positions of bartender. He locked eyes with you and an excited grin appeared on his lips. He held up the bottle as if to say, You want some? to which you stepped forward, titled your head back, and opened your mouth, Ron pouring one, two, three shots worth of whiskey in your mouth. You swallowed and shuddered at the taste, making Ron laugh out loud. “Bollocks, (Y/N),” he laughed out. Ron handed the bottle off to Dean and hopped off the chair, slinging an arm around your shoulder as you walked away from the mass of people wanting a shot. “I saw you and my brother having a good time on the dance floor,” he winked at you as you rolled your eyes. “He’s bloody whipped for you.”

You and Ron stood at the sidelines, watching George spin Ginny around on the dance floor, goofy smiles on both of their faces before Fred ran over and nearly tackled Ginny as she laughed. George looked over to where you stood with his younger brother and smiled softly. He dropped his left eye in a wink as your heart fluttered with glee. That boy would be the death of you.

The two of you hadn’t been together long, maybe three months, but it was quite obvious that George was mad for you. Ron had that much right. George had been infatuated with you for awhile and had been trying to get you to go out with him for months before you said yes. You knew that George had no problem getting dates with girls, but you wanted to make him sweat. Even though you found him insanely attractive and funny and sweet, you pretended like you had no interest in him. You made him work for your first date and work he did. After you said yes to being his girlfriend, George was on cloud nine. No one had ever seen George react like this to anything, but that’s how people knew you were special.

You sighed and looked at Ron, “He’s everything I could ever ask for.” Ron faked gagging as you slapped his arm. But it was all so true. George was a dream come true; you couldn’t believe how perfect he was. He was funny and outgoing and exciting, but also so kind and gentle and thoughtful. George was everything you’ve ever wanted and more. “Hey, you brought it up, don’t blame me!” you pointed a finger in his face as Ron laughed, the two of you continuing to chat and drink, watching the bodies on the floor dance away.

George still remained on the dance floor with his twin and Ginny, laughing and dancing and goofing off. Every once in a while George would look over and watch you, how you spoke to his brother, catching George’s eye every once in a while, you smiling gently at him before going back to Ron. George observed how you spoke with your hands, throwing your head back when you laughed, clutching your sides. He watched as you pulled your glossed lips in between your teeth, nibbling on the sensitive skin. He adored the way your mouth moved when you spoke, the words rolling off your lips like the sweetest honey. Without even realizing what he was saying, he just spoke out to his siblings, “I love her.”

Ginny and Fred abruptly stopped dancing and stared at their brother, faces twisted with both shock and confusion. He was surely drunk and just talking out of his ass, right? George had never confessed to loving a girl before. Fred looks at George and speaks, “Mate, what?”

He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. There was a magnetic force that just made George want to stare at you forever and always. The sight of you left him weak, unable to speak. George couldn’t compare you to anyone else; in his eyes, you were the only one. The standard. And he couldn’t believe you were all his. He thanked his lucky stars that he was alive and attended this damned school at the same time you did. “It’s just...she’s just too good to be true, isn’t she?” George sighs, all lovesick. In his mind, he thought of holding you in his arm, feeling like he was in heaven at the touch. Knowing that he was the one who could make you happy and make you feel loved was a dream come true for him. George Weasley was undeniably in love and he fell hard.

“He’s gone soft,” Fred looks at Ginny who slaps his arm. “Ow! Fuck was what for?” he rubs his arm with a hurt look on his face.

Ginny looks at George who’s eyes have not left you. She looks at George with a small smile; seeing her brother so smitten was heart warming to the youngest Weasley. “Are you...going to tell her?” she asks over the music.

George breaks his stare from you and looks to Ginny. “Should I tell her now?” he asks as Ginny worriedly looks to Fred for advice, but he just shrugs. He didn’t know the first thing when it came to a confession this grand. “I don’t want to wait any longer, but I don’t want to do it in the middle of a fucking party,” he starts to ramble. “But, Merlin, I can’t wait anymore. Should I run outside and go pick flowers from the courtyard? Or should I do a grand romantic gesture here?” he continues to ramble on as Ginny’s eyes just widen more and more with each sentence.

But before George can continue listing off ways to confess his love, you appear behind him and grab his hand. George turns around and the sight of you almost makes him faint. You sport a happy smile as you look at Fred and Ginny before turning to George and saying, “You wanna go get some fresh air outside?”

Perfect, George thinks to himself. He doesn’t bother excusing himself from the dance floor. George simply holds your hand tighter and runs off with you as you laugh, calling out a We’ll be back soon! to Fred and Ginny. “Or not!” George calls back before leaving the common room, running down the moving staircase, both of you a laughing, tipsy mess.

When you finally make it down the stairs and outside, you take a deep breath in, enjoying the cool, crisp air and how it didn’t smell of alcohol and sweat like the common room. You walk further into the courtyard, happily sighing as George wraps his arms around you as you giggle, looking up at him. He places a gentle kiss to your lips as you smile. “Hi, Georgie,” you coo up at him. Just the sound of your voice make him feel warm inside.

Breathlessly, he speaks, “Hey, gorgeous.” You can’t help, but let a large smile appear on your face as your cheeks feel hot. The two of you continue to walk, hand in hand, enjoying the others company and the silence and still of the night.

But inside George’s mind, he was screaming at himself to tell you about how he was feeling and how he couldn’t go another second without telling you how much he loved you. But every time he opened his mouth, the moment didn’t feel right. He wanted this moment to memorable. Something the two of you could look back on fondly. But George was nearly about to blurt it out if he didn’t tell you soon.

“George? Baby, are you alright?” you interrupt his thoughts, placing a hand on his cheek. He seemed so consumed with thought and it worried you that something was bothering him.

He shook his head and spoke, “Perfectly alright, my darling.” You smiled up at him before walking over to the bunch of roses that bloomed in the corner of the courtyard. You examined the bush for the perfect one and stumbled upon a fully blossomed yellow rose. Quickly, you plucked it from the bush and skipped back over to George, tucking the beautiful bud behind his ear, making the tall boy in front of you blush a wild shade of red. “You look adorable.”

George’s heart was beating so hard in his chest, you could mistake it for a heart attack. Now was the time. It was now or never. Without further hesitant, George just looks at you and lets the words flow out of his mouth. “I love you, baby,” he speaks, simply.

Although the words were so simple, it all meant so much. When the words fell from his mouth, your heart stops and you feel like this is some sort of dream. Your eyes widen as you look up at George who is smiling like a child on Christmas. The look of love in his eyes was enough to make you reciprocate the same goofy grin and giggle.

George starts, “I love you, (Y/N). Trust in me when I say this. I love you so much. And if it’s alright, I need you. I need you to warm the lonely nights. I need to show you how much you mean to me. Godric, now that I’ve found you and I found love with you, I can’t help but want to spend the rest of my days with you.” His words make tears form in your eyes as love makes your heart swell in your ribcage. “All I want to do is love you. So, let me love you, baby.”

With a breathy giggle, you grab his face and press your lips to George’s, mustering up all the love you had in your body. George is smiling widely into the kiss as you laugh, “I love you.” In between kisses, you keep repeating those special three words to him, only making the boy happier and happier. With one final kiss, you pull away and wrap your arms around him, beaming. “I love you, George. All I want to do is love you.”

He could barely believe that you felt the same way about him. What you had, this love, was real and you felt the same way that he felt. This was everything George could ever want and more. He shakes his head in disbelief, holding your hands in his, as he looks up to the sky and breathes out, “Holy fuck,” making you laugh.

All of a sudden, George jumps up on a bench in the courtyard and yells out, “I love (Y/N)! And she loves me!” You try to shush him, knowing damn well you weren’t supposed to be out of your dormitories at this time of night. “I don’t care! I don’t care who hears me! I’m in love! And she loves me back!” he cries before jumping down and scooping you in his arms, spinning you around as you both laugh wildly. You were in love.

386 notes · View notes