#i love tumblr tags i couldn’t ramble like this anywhere else

[blissfulmish]

Hey there Mel! (If you don't mind the nickname) I have only recently started checking out Henry/001/Peter/Vecna stuff on Tumblr but I am no stranger to Jaime Campbell Bower. You wanted a request so ill give you two ideas for Henry and you can choose whichever or even both if you'd like! 😊

Idea #1:

Henry has a massive crush on a fellow nurse!fem!reader but he isnt sure how to go about asking her out (relationships in the lab have to be secret) so he is left with only subtle actions not easily picked up on cameras or other people. Such as observing her and the little things she does/says/prefers; indirect actions for her, like he will helping her out with her duties indirectly (if that makes sense) and other things like that in the hopes she would understand and notice him. Whether she does or not that's up to you! Just something cute and fluffy.

and/or

Idea #2:

Henry and fem!Reader just hate each other with a burning passion...just something about each of them bugged the other from Day 1 working at Hawkins Lab together. Fights always break out between them about how annoying the other is, are sarcastic with one another, etc. But, one day they are bump into each other while they are both on the night shift doing inventory in the lab storage room(one of the few places where the cameras are minimal with a few blindspots). They argue and it gets so heated they both are breathing hard, glaring and so pent up...they end up kissing and sparks fly. They proceed to rip each other's clothes off and fuck against the shelves! You know what they say, anger is a form of passion that can turn into love, or at the very least attraction.

Wow I went a bit off the deep end with that. It's easy for me to ramble when it comes to JCB's characters but shit...

Anyways hope your day is going well and hope you enjoyed the ideas floating in my head.

-T💚

Hey T! I’m completely fine with the nickname! I hope you enjoy your weekend ☺️

Thank you for your requests! I loved both Ideas! I decided to go with the second one for now though. I’ll definitely do the first one another day. I’ll tag you when I do ❤️

Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!

NSFW. MINORS DNI 18+ please

Warnings: Possessive Henry

You were on duty, watching the kids in the rainbow room, noticing that Eleven was once again playing the same game that she was always intent on playing. Your eyes drifted over to where the doors suddenly opened, one of the other orderlies walking through. And oh wonderful, it was Peter, you thought sarcastically. You hated him with a burning passion, and everyone at the lab knew it too, including your boss. He walked up to you with a stormy look on his face, because of course, he hated your guts as well.

“Brenner said he wants to see you in his office. He had a question. I’ll watch the kids.” Peter said, all business.

“And he just had to send you of all people to tell me, didn’t he.” You huffed in annoyance, your day ruined now at the sight of his gorgeous face. Yes, you hated Peter Ballard, and the thing that made you hate him even more was how unfairly hot he was. Even you couldn’t deny that.

“You think that I wanted to be the one to come tell you?” He asked incredulously, his eyebrows raising. “Trust me, I’d rather be anywhere else in this lab right now. And that’s saying something because I hate this place, but not nearly as much as I hate you.” He glared at you, and you glared back as you stood up, taking a step closer to him. “Fuck you, Ballard.” He drew up at that, fire in his eyes, but there was something else there too. You didn’t give it too much thought, leaving him standing there as you left the room to go see what your boss wanted.

The next few weeks went by quickly and you hadn’t seen Peter as much which was a blessing, because the few times you did encounter him, it ended up with sarcastic remarks thrown back and forth. You remember the very first day you started working at Hawkins Lab, the very first time you met Peter. You had tried to be nice, but he was cold, and distant. You thought he may have been having a bad day, but no, he acted that way toward you every day. He always tried to intimidate you, but you were not detered by him one bit.

You didn’t want to admit it, but there was something about the other man that got underneath your skin. You hated him, but there was something else there too. And Peter… You felt like he just hated everyone’s existence in general, but you knew that you got underneath his skin as well. He was always sweet to the children, mostly Eleven. You only ever seen a different side of him when he interacted with her. It irked you like nothing else, because it was obviously an act, and you always wondered what his angle was.

There was only one thing you and him agreed on, it was hating this place. The more you worked here the more you felt awful for what the kids here had to go through. They had no freedom and they were experiments for Brenner to do what he pleased with them. It was sad, and they deserved a better life.

It was a cold December night when Brenner had asked you if you would stay overnight to do inventory in the lab storage room. You agreed, because you would be getting some peace and quiet. Time to yourself as you worked. You made your way into the room, shutting the door behind you. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” You huffed in annoyance as you almost walked right into the one and only, Peter Ballard. There goes your night of peace and quiet. “Brenner is trying to punish me, he is.” You said as you set your bag down, wondering why this had to happen to you.

“What are you doing here?” He gritted out slowly, and you glared right back at him.

“What does it look like I’m doing here? I’m working. What are you doing here?!” You fired right back at him, hoping this was some kind of joke.

“I’m the one working. I don’t need your help. You can leave.” He said, turning around and oh hell no.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m doing my job.” You were getting fired up, reaching for his shoulder to spin him around, and he gripped your wrist faster than you could pull it away, taking a menacing step toward you.

“I said, I will handle it. Leave, before I make you leave.” His blue eyes were dark, looking absolutely unhinged, but you weren’t afraid of him. Maybe you should have been, but there wasn’t an ounce of you feeling the need to back down, and somehow, you got the feeling that deep down he liked that.

“Oh? Why don’t you go ahead and try and make me then?” You challenged as you took another step closer to him until your bodies were almost touching, the both of you pent up in anger, staring eachother down.

You weren’t sure who moved first, but suddenly your lips were clashing together in a rough, heated, mind numbing kiss, teeth clacking together harshly. You moaned into his mouth as he walked you backwards and slammed you into the shelves where there was a blind spot from the cameras, stuff falling off the other side at the impact, but neither one of you cared at the moment.

“You’re infuriating.” He said, his voice coming out gruffer now, aroused, and you felt the hard line of his cock pressing against your thigh.

“Just shut up and kiss me.” You demanded, your fingers coming up to grip his hair, hard, crashing your lips against his again, your other hand at the nape of his neck. He bit your lip harshly until you could taste the metallic tang of blood in your mouth. You let out a moan at that, in half pain, half pleasure, your fingers coming up to run down his chest. You gripped his shirt and ripped it open, the buttons flying everywhere, which made you feel deeply satisfied. He pulled away to look at you, his hair a mess from your fingers and his lips kiss swollen. He looked as gorgeous as ever, and you wanted him, badly.

“You drive me crazy.” He rasped out, his finger coming up to run across your lips and down your chin from where your lip was bleeding and he brought it to his own lips, sucking his finger into his mouth, his eyes right on you. Fuck, that shouldn’t have been hot, but it was. It made your knees weak, and you could feel yourself getting wetter, your need growing.

You watched as Peter shook his dress shirt off before pulling the white t-shirt underneath off as well, and that was when you sank to your knees, taking off his belt and throwing it somewhere off to the side before pulling his pants and boxers down roughly. Your mouth watered at the sight of his cock right in front of your face. It was hard, extremely so, leaking pre-cum at the tip. You leaned forward, running your tongue along the underside before circling it around the tip, moaning softly at the bitter taste.

“Fuck… you’re…” Peter trailed off, his hand coming down to grip your hair this time as his hips bucked forward, causing his cock to push farther into your mouth. You gripped his ass cheeks to pull him even closer, starting to bob your head back and forth, moaning around the hard length of him.

“You’re… you’re so perfect. I think about you on your knees for me all the… fuck… all the time.” He panted above you, his eyes falling shut as you looked up at him with his head thrown back in pleasure, his hips making hard thrusting motions. You gagged as his cock hit the back of your throat multiple times, spit coating your chin and you could tell he was about to come so you pulled off of him, ignoring the look he gave you as you wiped your chin before standing up.

“I want you, Peter… I need you to fuck me.” Your voice came out raspy from your throat being fucked, taking your clothes off, enjoying the feeling of his eyes drinking you in until you were standing there naked before him.

“God, you’re beautiful.” He said before gripping your thighs, lifting you up to wrap your legs around his waist as he pushed you against the shelves once more. He looked down as he lined his cock up with your aching center, pushing in agonizingly slow until he was completely inside of you.

“Oh god… I’m not gonna last long. You feel… incredible.” He grunted, burying his face in your chest as he sucked bruising kisses onto your breasts, collecting himself for a moment before he pulled almost all the way out until just the tip was inside of you before he slammed back in harshly, causing the shelf to shake behind you. You let out a loud moan, your fingers clawing at his back, making deep scratch marks which spurred him on, causing him to start fucking you roughly, his hips smacking against your thighs with each thrust. Your clit was aching, begging to be touched, and he must have known himself because seconds later his finger came down to circle it before rubbing it at a pace that felt so fucking good, and you were close, feeling your orgasm approaching quickly, you just needed…

“You’re such a good girl… I want you to come for me. Come on my cock, baby.” Peter groaned out, fucking into you so hard that you swore you could see stars. You felt incredibly full of him, stuffed with his huge cock, his fingers on your clit not letting up. He was going to make you lose it.

“Peter… fuck.. I’m gonna…” You moaned out, clenching around his cock and he absolutely let out a growl at that, hips smacking against your thighs harshly.

“Henry… I want you to call out that name when you come on my cock. You’re mine, do you understand? I’ll kill anyone who dares to touch you.” And holy shit, that was alot to process.

“God, Pet- Henry… I’m yours… yours.” You came with a loud moan, his name falling from your lips over and over as your powerful orgasm washed over you, Peter, no Henry, looking at you in awe.

“Fuck, you’re incredible… so perfect. I’m gonna...” He groaned out, burying his face in your neck as his thrusts became uneven.

“Inside, Henry. I’m on the pill.. want to feel you, please..” Your voice sounded fucked out, which you were, on the brink of passing out from being taken so well.

He let out the most feral, agonized sound as your name fell from his lips, and his hips stuttered once, twice before he buried himself deep inside of you and you could feel his cum coating your insides. His legs started shaking and he couldn’t hold the both of you up any longer so he pulled out of you gently, his release dripping down the insides of your thighs. He pulled you down with him until you were in his arms on the ground. The last thing you remembered was feeling him clean the semen off of your thighs with his ruined white dress shirt before darkness overtook you.

When you awoke, it was against Peter’s… no Henry’s chest, your back resting against him as his arms were folded in front of your stomach. You would have to get used to the name change.

“You awake?” He asked, pressing a kiss to your neck.

“How long was I out?” You asked, hoping that it wasn’t too long. You both still had to work after all. You did not want the wrath of Brenner. He chuckled, the sound reverberating against your skin, and you realized you must have said that out loud. You also noticed that it was the first time you ever heard Henry laugh and it made you feel things, very deeply.

“About ten minutes.” He murmured, his eyes closed.

“You said I was yours… does that make you mine?” You asked, and you didn’t know why you cared. Why the thought of him saying no made your chest constrict painfully. Why did you even bring it up? You hated him, didn’t you?

“I’m yours.” He responded, your name whispered against your ear as he held you tighter against him. And maybe, it wasn’t hate that you felt for eachother after all, and you both knew it.

[donutloverxo]

My moon and stars

**not my gif**

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

Note - this is for @our-marvel-universe's birthday! I'm so sorry I'm late and that I'm bad at summaries.

Divider by @writeyourmindaway

Date posted - 26-08-20/Wed

Summary - Steve swoops in and saves your birthday with some stargazing and confessions.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 1386

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

You groaned as another person bumped into you, spilling a good amount of their drink on you. They didn't even bother apologizing, probably thinking that you're just a nobody, even though this was your party.

You had never had a huge birthday bash before or tons of presents, you were so naively excited when Tony told you he was throwing you one and inviting the whole city. You felt for some reason, they're here because they care for you or the super hero work you do everyday.

You couldn't be more wrong. Most of them didn't even know you. Your own family and friends, other than the Avengers had failed to show up. Now you could only look at the crowd of people and shake your head in disappointed.

Resisting the urge to punch Tony in his stupid face when he so smugly asked, 'You like the party?'

You would've, despite everything, but he wasn't here. He was gone on some stupid mission. Not that you cared that much. He wasn't yours, he didn't need to wish you a happy birthday or attend your party. You still couldn't help but hold out hope that you'd both stop dancing around each other.

No longer interested in the party where even the people you knew were completely drunk you made your way over to your favorite part of the compound.

You held on to your jacket a little tighter as you shivered, the wind messing up your fancy hairstyle. You looked up at the sky to see so many twinkling stars and beautiful colors, something you don't get in cities. You wouldn't trade this view for anything.

You instantly became alert when you heard someone stand behind you. You looked over your shoulder to see the man of your dreams, your captain, someone you had a hopeless schoolgirl crush on.

"Hey." Was all he said giving you a pathetic wave as you huffed.

Folding your hands over your chest you asked "Where were you? You didn't even tell me you were leaving. Not - not that I'd care why would I?" You stammered as you feared you had just accidentally revealed your deepest secret. "You're not that important Steve!" You yelled in an effort to backtrack.

He furrowed his brows before giving you a stupidly handsome smile, "I'm so sorry doll. But I'm here now. Tell me how I can make it up to you."

"Whatever. It doesn't matter." You said dejectedly as you turned around to lean against the railing and continue your stargazing.

"I just knew you'd be here when I didn't see you at the party.” He mumbled under his breath as he stood next to you. You could see him staring at you through your peripheral vision. “What’s wrong kid?”

You winced at the nickname. That’s what he thought of you, that’s all you’ll ever be to him. A Kid. Over the months, you had tried your best to act like an adult, taking some tips from Maria and Nat, to be cool and non-chalant, you doubted he’ll ever change his mind and think of you as a woman or a possible romantic partner.

You shook your head which only made him probe further. “Doll. You’re sulking on your own birthday. You can talk to me.” He assured you putting his hand over yours.

The warmth of his palms and his finger drawing patterns on the back of your hand felt so familiar and comfortable. You tried looked for his sparkly blue eyes best you could in the dark, his pupils blown wide.

“I used to think... I know this is childish but I thought - I don’t know people appreciated me putting my life on the line everyday. And that’s not why I do it obviously.” You had to clarify. You could pretend to hate him but you never wanted him to have a low opinion of you. “It’s just sad that no one sees the work that I do while you’re all so well known and beloved. It’s sucks to be a female avenger I guess” You shrugged.

He gave you an understanding smile and walked a step closer to you as you tried to calm your heartbeat. “I understand. It’s not childish. You deserve to be appreciated. And I can think of at least a couple hundred people who’re thankful to you. All the lives you’ve saved. You make the world a better place.”

“I don’t know how true that is.”

“Well you make my world better just by being here.” He argued.

“Steve,” You shook your head, “You can’t just say things like that! I’m not – it gives me false hope.”

“False hope?” He repeated cocking his head to the side. “I only ever speak the truth sweetheart. In fact I think it’s time for your gift.” He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to you.

You frowned as you tried to read the paper in the low lightening. “Oh... Steve.. you named a star after me?” You looked up at him to see him sheepishly scratch his neck. “That’s so romantic.” You sighed dreamily holding the document close to you.

“I asked around and Bruce told me I could do that. I could even get you a piece of moon but this felt more appropriate. I know how much you love stars.”

He rambled on about the whole process and how his assistant helped him, hoping you wouldn’t see notice how red he was. His gift wasn’t completely selfless. He had an objective, to make you his forever and ever. But he was too scared to ruin the relationship you two did have and lose a precious friend.

Bucky’s words echoed in his head ‘Real men can admit their feelings.’

He cleared his throat “I was hoping –“ he was cut off by your cool lips pressing against his, stealing his breath away. His hands naturally went to your waist to pull you closer to him, his taut body craving the warmth of your soft one.

You pulled away after a beat and blinked up at him. “Oh god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think I thought...”

“No no I liked it. In fact I was hoping to do that.” His fingers traced the outline of your lips.

“Good.” You nodded not sure of what to say next. But it felt better to just not say anything at all and look back up at the beautiful sky in comfortable silence.

Until the whole team decided to ambush you from, you heard Clint and a drunk Tony sneaking up on you, they really weren’t as sneaky as they thought but you still humored them by acting surprised.

“What the hell girrrl? We’ve been looking everywhere for you. But then I was like we can just ask FRIDAY! So we did.” Tony grinned proudly as his words slurred.

You took the beer bottle away from him “Yeah I’m going to cut you off now.”

“What were you doing here though?” Clint asked and you said something about needing air.

Steve couldn’t help but stare at you as you talked to the rest of the team. Feeling a bit of jealousy and even frustration that they all had to interrupt the precious moment you both shared.

“Did you do it punk?” Bucky asked slapping a hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

“Uh yeah. I mean I didn’t – she did.” He replied lowly so no one else could find out just yet.

“Of course she did.” Steve frowned as his oldest friend clutched his stomach, laughing loudly at him. “After all these years you still haven’t changed.” He shook his head and all Steve could do was smile. “I’m happy for you.” He said and meant it, so proud of his friend.

When Steve was finally able to get you alone, glad that your mood had gotten considerably better, you even seemed to be a bit buzzed from the booze.

“You were right Steve.” You said holding onto his arm treating him like your own personal heater as the night got cooler. “Everyone who matters to me does appreciate me. Especially you.” You leaned up on your tippy toes to peck his lips before scurrying off to tell everyone about the star named after you.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm. Comments and feedback are really appreciated! ❤❤

[willgrahymn]

Crushing Fear

wow can you believe I’m posting one of my fics on tumblr? me neither.

Tags: prinxiety, love confessions, some point close after FWSA, flower language, some swearing, and light angst but mostly fluff (oh and I throw shade at Janus).

Summary: Virgil didn't even remember how long he had spent repressing his dumb crush, but with Thomas falling in love, it felt harder to ignore the feelings welling up in his chest. All he knew was that he couldn't admit it out loud. Luckily for him, Roman was a romantic who couldn't stand to let a chance at love go uninvited, even if he didn't always feel deserving of it. 

Word count: 3334

I’ll reblog with ao3 link since I know tumblr is dumb about it :)

There were a lot of things Virgil loved about Roman. He loved the way Roman would push back his hair whenever he caught a glimpse of himself or felt nervous and he loved the way it always fell in his face again. He loved the way his eyes lit up when Virgil asked about a show or a musical he knew the prince liked. To be honest, it was hard to think of something he didn't love. Even things he once thought were annoying had become endearing to him.

It didn’t matter. He had a reputation to at least try to maintain, he’d already gone so damn soft around the others since the light sides and Thomas came to get him back and Roman made that sweet little speech in the darkness of his room.

“You make us better.” It was like a song he played on repeat. At the time, Roman was the last person he expected to convince him that this could be his home – his family – but somehow he did. He may have been a jerk early on, but maybe, Virgil thought, he really was a knight in shining armor. Roman was more like him than he once thought; using fake confidence to cover up insecurities was nothing new.

And now, years later, here he was lying in bed like a yearning gay fool with music that wasn’t loud enough to block out his thoughts. He figured his little crush would be something that he could just hide away until it wasn’t even there. That plan was failing horribly though, especially when Roman could steal his breath by just looking at him. He didn't know how to handle feelings that felt bigger than himself.

Would it be smart to try something now? Probably not. What would he even do? Roman always talked of big, grand gestures that could literally and figuratively sweep one off their feet. Virgil didn’t consider himself good at plenty of things, and wooing someone like he was in a movie happened to be on the list. The farthest he'd gotten with confrontation was making Thomas talk to Nico, all because he couldn't stand to see Roman so heartbroken. He could feel the darkness below his eyes lighten to that embarrassingly glittery purple at the memory of how proud Roman was.

But Roman was Creativity and had his own little kingdom in the imagination. Virgil was sure that if he wanted a boyfriend he could just make the man of his dreams who would do anything and everything for him without the slightest hesitation. It seemed existence wasn’t fair like that.

He could just barely hear a knock sounding at the door, Virgil's eyes immediately darting over to where the sound had come. He debated whether or not he should respond. It wasn’t as if he didn’t like his friends, but his same old avoidant tendencies from before never went away.

“Virgil?” Roman asked. His voice making Virgil freeze and want to melt away at the same time. “Are you awake?”

Fuck, shit, some other words Patton would disapprove of. What time was it? 1:30? He couldn’t blame Roman for assuming he was still out, especially since it was the truth not too long ago. He almost felt sorry for his sleep schedule, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. No matter how hard Logan tried to help he always found himself digging through the kitchen at 5 in the morning, and not because he was an early riser. He paused his music, hanging his headphones on his headboard. Listening to Sally’s Song for the 17th time could wait for later.

He heard Roman laugh, and it felt like roses.

“That’s alright. If anyone here knows anything about beauty sleep, it’s me. The glasses gays are insisting that I awaken the beast though, so you better at least have something on before I barge in.”

Virgil wasn’t sure if Roman was talking to himself or knew he was being heard. He just burrowed deeper under his covers. He didn't want Roman to find him awake and think he was ignoring him, even if it was kind of the truth.

The door creaked. It sounded like something from a shitty horror movie. The heavy footsteps didn’t make it any more calming either. Roman was never this quiet. He refused to open his eyes, even as his blanket was pulled away from his face. He couldn’t stop the sharp intake of breath as he felt cool air shock his skin.

“Awh, c’mon! I’m the actor here. Your eyes were closed too tight, for one thing,”

Virgil sighed, opening his eyes and squinting at the light. “I thought you were here to wake me up, not give me acting lessons.”

“Good morning to you too, Mourning Glory. It’s not my fault if you want to hide away all day, I’m just giving tips on being more realistic.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, biting the inside of his lip to resist smiling. Wanting to stay calm as if he knew what he was doing.

“You’ve teased me about being a vampire before. Can’t I play the part?”

“Oh, trust me, you’re perfect for the role. Sadly for you, there are two very insistent Sides saying you have to be a real functioning part of the mind, so unless you want me to carry you out there and make a whole scene, you better come down on your own.”

Virgil sighed, rolling onto his back as his eyes adjusted to the light. The two stared at each other. Testing each other. Not getting out of bed never sounded more tempting.

He gave in, rambling. “Sure, okay, whatever.” He sighed, reaching out and taking hold of Roman’s hand, letting the prince pull him upright. Whether it was he or Roman who ended up bringing them so close was something he could stay up late thinking about later. Now wasn’t the time to focus on rough palms or scarred skin that he once bandaged up while cursing out the ever-so-reckless Roman for sneaking out on quests, leaving Virgil to hunt him down with nothing but adrenaline and a certain level of knowingness in his dread.

He tried to bite back a yawn. His eyes widening at the warm feeling of a hand pressed to his face, of a thumb brushing lightly over his cheekbone. It wasn’t unwelcome, to be honest, he could probably fall back asleep just like this. He’d be okay waking up every morning if they were like this. If the romantic side offered it. If Virgil would allow himself to accept and experience it.

“How long have you been up?”

“Anywhere between 20 minutes to 2 hours. I don’t really know.”

Roman smiled, betraying the worried look in his eyes. It was probably just the effect of his room, that’s what Virgil hoped it was anyway. He tried not to show any disappointment when Roman’s hand fell to the bed.

“I’ll be down in a few,” Virgil continued, “just let me take care of my makeup first.”

Roman’s eyes trailed him as he got up and moved over towards his desk in the corner of the room, flicking on the light as he went by. Why is he fucking staring?

“While I’m here, I was wondering if you’d care to join me for a quest this evening? Or maybe we could throw a ball for the mind palace? I know it’s not your thing, but I thought it might be fun? Or y’know, something else more low-key.”

“Uh, yeah you know I’m not big on big things,” Virgil replied, looking over to the prince picking at a loose thread on the cuffs of his sleeves. “You know if you want to hang out you can just ask, you don't need some extravagant event going on to get me alone with you.”

Roman nodded, not seeming any calmer than before. Virgil's brows furrowed, worries flowed through him as if it were his blood. He didn't want to make Roman talk if he didn't want to, but god was it nerve-racking.

At the very least, it seemed like he wouldn't be putting on any more black eyeshadow to try and hide its changes.

Roman, on the other hand, decided not to question why the Side no longer seemed interested in putting his makeup on, and being grateful for the fact Virgil took advantage of the fact they could conjure themselves into different outfits rather than changing right then and there.

The two stayed there, an awkward silence taking over the room before a crash sounded from the living room.

“We should probably go.”

Virgil simply nodded, pulling his jacket tighter around as he followed Roman out of the room.

Luckily, the crash had only come from Patton knocking over a stack of DVDs, CDs, and a few other things. Another lost-glasses incident. It was a miracle nothing got broken.

The day itself would have felt completely normal if not for the fact Roman kept looking at him. Starting off as unsure as they did in his room, and slowly brightening like he had finally figured out a plothole in one of his stories. It was even more unsettling when he realized Roman was no longer there, vanished off to do god knows what.

So Virgil spent the next couple of hours trying to ignore the feeling of his fears eating him from the inside out like a moth to a sweater. He wouldn’t mind the holes if they didn’t leave him so uncomfortable. But then again, maybe that was fitting for his aesthetic. Torn-up shirts and jeans to pair with his torn-up emotions. At least he found solace in the darkness of his outfits.

It didn’t take long to get bored of the mundane mind palace.

Maybe I should take Roman up on that quest idea. He thought, his foot bounced, hanging over the side of the couch. Even if it wasn’t in his list of Shit Virgil Can Do Without Fucking Up, it was better than sitting around and waiting for nothing.

Virgil got up silently, giving a quick two-finger salute to Logan who had started reading some new detective novel before he sunk out. Appearing again before Roman’s door. Maybe he was just self-conscious, but it looked bigger than it was. Like behind it would be some hidden treasure that he finally reached.

It wasn’t entirely wrong. Roman was certainly someone to be treasured, even if he made mistakes. He just wished the other Sides would help him understand it.

He held his breath as he knocked, jolting back when it swung open almost instantly.

“You’re here!” Roman exclaimed, bouncing on his heels.

“Uh, yeah. I thought I’d take you up on your offer from earlier… if it’s still up, anyway.”

“Oh! Yeah, totally!” The prince tugged at his collar, not making eye contact. Virgil couldn’t help but smile slightly at the prince's giddiness. “I was just working on something if you’d care to see it?”

“You know I wanna see whatever you come up with, even if it’s some rewrite of Frozen.”

Roman bounced again, holding his hands out, palms up. He looked at Virgil with an emotion he couldn’t name, but it made him feel anxious in a good kind of way. Not anything like the dread he was used to. He placed his hands on Roman’s, and it wasn’t till they were sinking out and into the imagination that he realized it was the same kind of feeling from when Nico first texted Thomas about meeting up again. He held Roman’s hands a little tighter.

When he opened his eyes, they were surrounded by flowers.

“Woah…”

“Do you like it? I had to sneak into Logan’s room and borrow a few of his books.”

“I– yeah. It’s beautiful. And don’t worry, I won’t snitch.” He stepped away, wandering the circular little garden. He could only recognize so many. “Didn’t know you had a thing for landscaping.”

“I try my best. Honestly, I’m just happy neither of us has allergies.”

“Gosh, you’re such a dork.” Virgil laughed, petting the petals of a rose. Not paying attention to the way Roman watched him and shifted his weight every so often nor how warm his cheeks had become. “Do you know what any of them mean?”

“I do, but I think if I tell you, you’ll realize how predictable I am.”

“Go for it.”

“Well, roses are pretty well known. The red ones are anyway. Love, passion, romance, and courage. Things like that.” Roman said, walking closer. His boots clicking against the walkway’s pavement.

He stood close by yet just far enough for Virgil not to feel like he was being dissected under his gaze. It was an unreasonable thing to think after all the time they had spent becoming friends, he knew that. Yet part of him continued to scream that one day Roman would look at him and find out how horrible he thought himself to be and never want to be around him again. Maybe that was why he refused to confess just how much he liked Roman. It was a weight that crushed his chest every day yet made him feel dizzyingly light.

It was all too complicated.

“What about the purple ones?”

“It kind of varies by shade, but most of the time it’s about love at first sight or enchantment. A lot of the flowers here have to do with that sort of thing.”

“Yeah, should’ve been able to figure that one out myself.”

Roman shrugged. “It’s no matter, I just want to make sure you understand what they mean.” He looked to Virgil, again with that unnamed emotion. “You do get what I’m trying to say, right?”

For a moment, he hoped he did.

“Uh, yeah? Princey, I get it, you’re a hopeless romantic. You don’t have to spell it out for me.” He bit the inside of his lip, then asked. “What are they for?”

Roman looked at him with what he could only see as sympathy.

“I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I really do think you need it spelled out.”

Virgil scoffed, going to argue before he was cut off.

“First,” Roman began, reaching for Virgil’s hand, “You take him by the hand. That’s as far as you got before we both started screaming, anyway. So I suppose I’ll just have to wing it from here. I know I haven’t always been the best to you. I know I still make mistakes, and I really don’t want this to be one of them.”

“Roman–”

“I’m not finished. Virgil, out of all the other’s, you’re always the one who notices when I’m upset. You’re always the one who lets me bitch about Deceit without saying I was wrong for trusting him and then wrong for not. Really, you’re the only one I can bitch about the dark sides to, period. Logan is so reserved about it, and Patton is, well, he’s Patton. He tries to see the good in everyone.”

Roman paused, catching his breath. Virgil thought it best not to speak. He didn’t think he’d even be able to if he wanted.

“What I’m getting is that I trust you. I trust you because you’re my best friend and you listen to what I say even if it’s dumb. Because when I don’t feel like talking you're always down to just watch classic Disney movies and fill in coloring books. I know you don't realize it, but you do a hell of a lot more good than you believe, and I love you for that. You don’t have to say it back or even feel the same, I know you’re pretty reluctant about it. I just need you to know.”

Virgil stared at him, frozen like a deer caught in the headlights of love. Roman had said ‘I love you’ before, but not like this. What the fuck do you even do when your crush confesses they like you, more so, that you aren’t obligated to like them back? Complicated, and now surreal.

“You really mean it? All of it??”

“Of course I do, my Columbine Cutie! I could never lie to someone about love, I hope you know that.” Roman replied. Waving his hand as he conjured a mix of red and purple columbines, tucking them gently behind Virgil’s ear. Both knowing it was the truth, that Roman wouldn’t subject someone to such a thing because he knew how it felt.

But he still trusted Virgil with his love all the same. Trusted that it wouldn’t be taken advantage of or used against him.

“How long have you known?”

“You know, I think I fell for you far before I knew it.”

Virgil huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I uh… I think it was the same for me. Falling for you, that is.” God, it felt so weird to say it. Good, too. “I’m sorry I don’t know what to say. I never thought I’d end up here. I care about you too. I love you, I mean.”

And Roman… Roman just started to beam, shining like the sun as Virgil tripped over his words. He bounced, hands waving as he did. Despite his lingering fear, Virgil couldn’t stop the excitement Roman radiated and the wonder of it all from seeping in under his skin, a feeling like vibrations that he could only try to shake out. And there were hands cupping his face and there were words he didn’t hear. He still knew what they asked. “Fucking yes.” was all he could bring himself to give as a response before Roman’s lips were on his.

Strawberry chapstick and the faint scent of cherry blossom perfume were all that went through his head, it was the only thing that really could. He held onto Roman’s uniform like if he let go it would all disappear. Another dream reminding him of what he thought he couldn’t have.

When Roman pulled away and Virgil opened his eyes, he was still there.

He was real. Everything that had happened was real. He couldn’t help but giggle at how fantastical it was.

Roman brushed his bangs away, just enough to fully show his eyes. “Your eyeshadow changed again,” he announced, bouncing on his heels once again. Virgil groaned, turning away. “It’s a good look for you. Especially with how much you blush, my Lavender Love.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s adorable.”

Virgil knew from the grin on Roman’s face that it had only intensified.

“Whatever. I just– for what it’s worth– I appreciate it. All of this. I’d probably die never telling you shit about how I felt if you didn’t do it first.”

Roman softened, “Maybe, or maybe you’d end up pushing yourself like you did to Thomas. Either way, I’m happy with it if you are.”

Virgil nodded, the two going silent. Roman rocked back and forth still quietly bouncing, probably thinking of what to say next.

Slowly, Virgil opened his arms, smiling nervously to his crush– lover– whatever they were. He wasn’t all that open to touch, but Roman was so far off from everything else it didn’t matter. The prince smiled, pulling Virgil close to him and pressing a kiss to his magenta-colored hair.

“I’m happy to be your knight as long as you want me to be. Whatever it is that gets thrown our way, I’ll fight for you as you have for me. You deserve to shine every day like you are now.”

“Jesus, Princey. You already made your dramatic love declaration, but... thank you. I want you to be happy too.”

The two held each other, and for the moment, everything was okay. No dark sides, no fear, no challenging life debates. It was unescapable, of course, but it didn’t matter. They could survive and fight this hell of a world. They could make the other realize how lovable they were. Because they had each other.

[dothwrites]

2020 Writing in Review

Well, it’s been a shitshow of a year, ain’t it? The one bright spot in this year was that it left me a ton of time for writing! With no further ado, here are the fics I worked on the year of our lord, 2020. 

---

the blood which we drew | Rated: M | Word Count: 7335 | COMPLETE

Castiel bears the Mark. And for a few months, it's fine.

It's fine until it isn't.

---

ramble on | Rated: E | Word Count: 26,875 | WIP

A series of Season 15 codas, crossposted to tumblr. Tags, Warnings, and Rating may change, based on source material.

(Technically started this in 2019, but I added to it this year, so I’m counting it)

---

protect and serve | Rated: E | Word Count: 49,953 | COMPLETE

Police officer Dean Winchester's next assignment seems easy enough: a protection detail on Assistant District Attorney Castiel Novak, who's been receiving death threats in conjunction with the case that he's prosecuting. Dean's assignment is to keep ADA Novak safe, alive, and in one piece so that he can start his trial against Dick Roman, notorious CEO charged with the death of at least eight people.

With threats that quickly spin out of control, a missing teenage genius, Dean's attraction to Novak, and Novak's mercurial attitude towards Dean--Dean Winchester's next assignment is anything but easy.

---

what stays (and what fades away) | Rated: E | Word Count: 64,421 | COMPLETE

Cas Novak’s life is perfect. He has a job that he loves and friends who support him. Most importantly, he has his husband, Dean Winchester, and his two adopted children, Claire and Jack. With them, nothing could ever go wrong.

That is, until he starts having flashes of a life that isn’t his and meets someone who shares his husband’s face but not his personality, someone who insists that he’s someone, something, different altogether. Cas’ life shatters when he’s dragged into a world that he doesn’t belong to and doesn’t understand.

Dean Winchester’s life was already shattered when he lost Castiel.

---

thunder road | Rated: E | Word Count: 20,883 | COMPLETE

After Chuck is defeated and the Winchesters settle into life without God, Dean Winchester is bored.

OR: Dean and Cas take a road trip and figure out some stuff along the way.

---

alone together | Rated: E | Word Count: 74, 239 | COMPLETE

Like the rest of the world, Dean Winchester’s job sent him home with the supplies necessary to work from home and a vague farewell of “We’ll see you when this all blows over”. Unlike the rest of the world, Dean Winchester is entering into a quarantine with Castiel Novak, his incredibly hot and incredibly uninterested roommate. How is Dean supposed to concentrate on his job while Cas is just a few feet away, being...well, Cas?

Castiel Novak was already working from home, so the news of social distancing doesn’t affect him that much. What does send him into a panic is the knowledge that Dean Winchester, his stunning and straight roommate, will also be working from home for the foreseeable future. After spending so long trying to distance himself from Dean, Castiel now has to face a future where Dean is present. All. The. Time.

They’ve got food, Internet, and all the toilet paper they need, but neither one of them is prepared for quarantine.

---

for a sinner released | Rated: E | Word Count: 8,800 | COMPLETE

Testing his theory, he runs his fingers over the soft skin of Dean’s wrist, until his thumb is pressed firmly against Dean’s hammering pulse. Cas pulls, gently but inexorably, until Dean is forced to take a step forward. The shift in positioning pushes the barrel of the gun into his forehead.

Cold metal touches overheated skin, and Cas inhales sharply at the contrasting sensations. The gun is unforgiving, relentless, beautiful.

It’s like Dean.

---

and all this devotion | Rated: M | Word Count: 10,572 | COMPLETE

Dean’s not stupid. He’s seen the looks Cas has aimed his way, when Cas thought he wasn’t paying attention. He’s leveled his share of looks back at Cas when the angel’s attention was elsewhere. More than once, he’s been caught in the act. At this point, they’re both dancing around the same elephant, too scared and caught in their ways to make the first move.

OR: Dean gets hurt on a hunt. Cas takes care of him. There's only one bed. Confessions ensue.

---

lost in translation | Rated: T | Word Count: 3,720 | COMPLETE 

Cas bites at his lower lip, looking uncommonly shy. Worry starts to stir in Dean’s gut, which is only compounded when Cas says something else in soft yet clear Enochian. As the new phrase doesn’t have the word stupid anywhere in it, Dean doesn’t have the slightest idea of what Cas is saying. The guilt squirming in his stomach gets worse when Cas looks at him, with gentle anticipation, as though he’s expecting a reply. Dean does what humans have been doing since the beginning of time when confronted with a language they don’t understand and smiles, wide and sunny, at Cas. Cas’ forehead creases but he returns the gesture. His eyes are still brimming over with emotion and the sight does something to Dean.

Dean begins to suspect that he may have started something which he is not equipped to finish.

---

a new song about a new life | Rated: E | Word Count: 21,282 | WIP

There is no happily ever after. Mostly because there is no after. Life is just a series of days and nothing ever really ends. It just continues on, even after the curtain closes, and while the struggles might not be epic, they're no less impressive. Domestic life isn't without its pitfalls and trials, but at the end of the day, Dean and Cas still have each other and in the end, that's enough.

A series of timestamps detailing the small adventures of Dean and Castiel. Will contain teensy amounts of angst and a heap of fluff and domesticity.

---

angel in black | Rated: E | Word Count: 95,325 | COMPLETE

Bounty hunter Castiel Novak has simple rules for how he conducts his business. Get in, get out, deliver the fugitive, and do it all with the least amount of effort possible. Never become emotionally involved.

When he takes on the job of hunting down Sam and Dean Winchester in order to bring them to justice, his rules start shifting. Threatened by supernatural forces as well as his attraction to Dean, Castiel soon has to decide what he’s willing to stand for…and what he’s willing to die for.

---

ghosts that we knew | Rated: E | Word Count: 89,411 | COMPLETE

Dean can’t help it. Castiel’s laugh is infectious, washing over him and sweeping him up in its tide. His throat and stomach ache with the feel of it, unfamiliar muscles worked past their endurance. He hasn’t laughed like this in weeks, maybe years.

Cas doesn’t stop laughing, and Dean relishes it. It’s such a good sound, deep and throaty. It rumbles over him the same way that Baby’s engine purrs, to where he can almost feel it in his gut. Dean’s giddy, the kind of happy that hunters don’t get to feel, and if it weren’t for the ceiling, he thinks he might float away. Cas’ eyes crinkle when he laughs, and his smile goes wide and gummy. He’s so brilliant, so alive—

But you’re dead, Dean thinks helplessly. But you’re dead.

---

Castiel Novak is one of the best hunters Dean Winchester has ever worked with. He's witty, whip-smart, and has enough knowledge about the supernatural to rival an encyclopedia. He's got humor dry enough to put the Sahara to shame and he's pretty easy on the eyes as well. All in all, he's the best partner Dean could have hoped for.

Too bad he's dead.

---

the best of things | Rated: G | Word Count: 2,494 | COMPLETE

There’s something.

This is significant because, for as long as Castiel can remember, there’s been nothing. --- Castiel finds a way out of the Empty.

---

freedom | Rated: G | Word Count: 4,804 | COMPLETE

Freedom.

Dean rolls the word around on the tip of his tongue and tastes how it feels. Freedom.

It’s a strange concept, especially since he always assumed that he was. Ever since Apocalypse Version 1.0 was averted, Michael and Lucifer locked in the cage, thanks very much, he’s always assumed that he was the one calling the shots. No matter how badly he fucked up (and he fucked up a lot), he could at least take comfort in the fact that those were his choices. No one’s hand up Dean Winchester’s ass, no siree.

And then Chuck came and ripped that certainty away from him in one quick motion and then...everything was suspect. Sam, Mom, Jack...Cas. Every word, every action, every emotion... He couldn’t trust anything, so he trusted nothing.

--- OR: Dean makes a choice.

---

at the end of the world | Rated: G | Word Count: 4,631 | COMPLETE

Rebuilding Heaven is slow work, but time doesn’t really mean anything here. It’s delicate to rebuild the walls separating billions of souls so that nothing collapses. Castiel works alongside Jack, making suggestions as his mind trips along to potential problems.

Though it’s never said aloud, Castiel knows why Jack is working tirelessly. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, the knowledge sits that Sam and Dean are going to die. One day, they will pass from the earth, and come to Heaven, and on that day, Castiel wants everything to be perfect for them. He wants to show them a true paradise, a place without walls or barriers, a place where emotion is genuine and not just a manufactured memory. Rebuilding Heaven is his last chore, the last of his penance to be performed.

--- OR: Team Free Will gets the soft epilogue which they deserve.

---

let your heart be light | Rated: M | Word Count: 31,651 | WIP

It's Dean and Cas' first official Christmas together as a couple. What could possibly go wrong?

Just Cas' weird family, his own personal hang-ups about Christmas, Dean's persistent belief that the miracle of Christmas can heal all wounds, and meddling friends and family.

Have a Merry Christmas.

[acrosstobear]

AO3 YEAR IN REVIEW – 2021

the ever lovely Fir @juncosracing was kind enough to tag me in this AO3 year in review, thank you for thinking of me friend 🤍 

Stories Posted: 7, apparently? (+7 mini fics posted on Tumblr that I’m choosing to count here but not anywhere else, if only because some of them are AO3 worthy)

Word Count: 63,968 -- obviously, some of these words are Lauren’s but like. Wow????? there was so much more that i wanted to write in 2021 (and soooo many Google Docs sitting open with half finished thoughts) but for someone who has never published fic before, i’m insanely proud of this, because falling back into writing was incredibly therapeutic and stimulated the creative side of me that i wasn’t all too sure i knew how to use anymore.

Most Kudos: somehow i’m just finding out that serendipity has the most kudos? this is shocking to me? this one started as a long and rambly discord message that i just couldn’t get out of my head. it’s most definitely the fluffiest thing i’ve ever written, and surprisingly enough, there is no explicit relationship (the getting together but only if you squint tag was very appropriate). just soft boys being soft in each other’s sweaters (and realizing that maybe they can have it all :weep:). i’m touched to know it resonated with people, cause in terms of writing, this is the one where i feel like i could still find improvements to make if i were to keep editing.

Longest Story: by far and above, the labour of love that was collegiate affairs at 42,932 words. at least half of those are by @formulaur but we lived this for months together, and it was honestly one of the most challenging things i’ve undertaken. it pushed me to become a better writer, it pushed me to think about world building, it gave me an incredible experience that i got to share with an even more incredible person and co-writer in Lauren. i reread the last couple of chapters (which literally kept me up at night when i was trying to write them, Lauren reassuring me constantly that no, i wasn’t a failure) and i was floored by how much i enjoyed the writing? i couldn’t believe that little old me had written that? beyond insanely happy with how it turned out and the world that we built and the reception it got.

Shortest Story: i tend to ramble in real life so it’s no surprise that my shortest is not that short; isolation comes in at 1,661 words and it also happens to be the fic i wrote in the least amount of time (at 3 am after absolutely losing all coherent thought because of this picture). it definitely captures the unhinged i was feeling when i wrote it, and i mean, who doesn’t love the disaster roommates.

Personal Favorite(s): foundations was my baby, my brain child, my undoing and also my rebirth. i’ve gone back to reread it and while i can definitely see how much i’ve grown since, i can’t help but have such a soft spot for where i began. what i love about this is how this was an idea that just. wouldn’t leave me alone until it was written. it totally took over my life, but in the absolute best way -- i was excited and happy and inspired!!!! the feeling i had when writing this was unmatched, and i like to think that what makes it compelling is that what i was feeling seeped in between the words and flavoured it just a little. anyways. i am a proud mom of this fic.

i have no idea who has not done this, but i’ll tag some of my favourite writers here as well -- @stuckonspidey @schulott @allthefadinglights @formulaur @saintlysebchal feel free to do this (or not) but just know that i absolutely loved reading your work in 2021 ❤️

[bitchbrisket]

First Lines Tag

Tagged by @slightlyintimidating

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag 10 authors!

As all my mutuals have been tagged already, I’ll just tag a couple of people, @tara-stofse and @rapidashpatronus

I’m also going to cheat and give you a favourite line from each one, simply because the first line is rarely the best and why not be a big fat show off where your writing is concerned? Didn’t link because I am a lazy cow but my AO3 profile is at the top of my page.

1.       (The Worst Witch 2017) A friend like you – 'Get in loser, we're going shopping!'

Sometimes I come up with good titles and sometimes I desperately flail around and this was the best I could do. Most people should know what the opening line is a reference to and it was the first thing I thought of when the idea of this fic materialised.

  ·         'I know you think you're hot stuff, but Dimity can run rings around you. You have the acting skills of a potato' she icily informed a miffed Arabella.’

  2.       (Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries) An education - 'I confess, I fail to understand the point of most of them.'

Again, another crappy title but for some reason, no song lyric or poem came to me on the subject of policemen raiding a Chinese brothel in the 1920s and confiscating vibrators because they look like suspicious instruments. I did lift the first line from the script because that is partly what I based the fic on. 0/10 for originality there.

  ·         ‘The benefit of having so many deities, Lin reflected, was that there was always someone in, should you knock on the door of their shrines.’

  3.       (The Worst Witch 2017) Poker – ‘Miss Bat scuttled along to the staffroom after her date and walked in, only to halt in surprise.’

Good Lord, I’m really not selling it to you with these boring titles am I? I’ve done the strip poker storyline with the hairpins in another fandom and couldn’t think up a clever title for that either.

  ·         ‘Clothes were strewn everywhere but in front of Hecate, there was a small pile of hairpins and nothing else.’

  4.       (The Worst Witch 2017) Which witch is which? – ‘Wychwood forest was a mysterious place, full of wrackspurts and helipoaths and blibbering humdingers. Sometimes you'd even see a crumple horned snorcack galloping along.’

Yes, alright I borrowed something off the world of Harry Potter. A fic based off a post off of a popular post on Tumblr and title borrowed off Dianna Wynne Jones I think.

  ·         'Watch out for the blibbering humdingers!' she shouted vengefully after the troublesome tourists.’

  5.       (The Worst Witch 2017) They do it with mirrors - 'I've missed you.'

Very general, basic bitch kind of starter. Dial up the smut o’metre because witches are having the equivalent of webcam sex. Written for the Hackle Lemonade Challenge, prompt kink. Wasn’t one of my favourites to write but it does have one of my favourite paragraphs in a smutty fic. Beats the first line anyway.

  ·         ‘She groaned and panted as her climax finally overtook her, glad of the extra support from the solid oak furniture. None of this modern rubbish that couldn't withstand a good hard fuck. There was a time and a place for IKEA but this was not it.’

  6.       (The Worst Witch 2017) Every inch of you – ‘Ada loved it when Hecate lightly raked her nails down her back.’

Diving straight into the smut for this other Hackle Lemonade Challenge, prompt kink fic. Title entirely appropriate.

  ·         ‘While many people over the years could make it happen, it was a secret delight to know that nobody did it better than her.’

  7.       (The Worst Witch 2017) The hum of your desire – ‘Ada woke up to an empty bed.’

At least it’s promising. The story can go anywhere when you start off with an empty bed. The bed is irrelevant anyway. They end up on the sofa.

  ·         ‘Hecate Hardbroom was nothing but a meticulous over achiever.’

  8.       (The Worst Witch 2017) You’re the night sky, trying to make me see your stars – ‘Hecate had been afraid to touch.’

Throws you right into the scene and lets you know there’s going to be a bit of angst in there. I love the song I took the title from (night sky – Leonell Cassio & Julia Mihevc) and I waited for a fic idea to materialise so I could use it.

  ·         ‘Ada could feel her breathing, steady and true, vibrating through to her heart.’

  9.       (Ghosts) Hide & seek – ‘Giggling madly, she galloped up the stairs to seek out the best hiding place ever.’

With several of the ghosts with backstories we have yet to uncover, the possibilities are endless. Poor Kitty had to die young so I gave her a death loosely based on an English ghost story, using all the unsavoury incidents involving her sister. Title needs no explanation.

  ·         ‘And shimmering obliquely in the corner of the landing, was the answer. The wooden chest. The one from the latest sailing ship that had brought back all that sugar and tea and rum.’

  10.   (The Worst Witch 2017) When breathing sounds like your song – ‘She hadn't let herself enjoy it at first.’

Luckily the only way from there is forward. For the Hackle Lemonade Challenge 2021, prompt firsts. Not sure where I got the title from, it’s possible I melded a couple of song lyrics together for it.

  ·         ‘I always feel thirsty after a pleasurable experience' she said cheerfully.’

  11.   (Holby City) There is no goat that foolish – ‘Serena patted down her wide brimmed hat and set off for a walk.’

It’s an ok start to the fic. The title is terrible but honestly, its just hard to find references to goats in general.

  ·         ‘She only just realised that they were conversing in English, not French. The other woman had a London accent. Good. She could shout at her more expressively in English.’

  12.   (The Worst Witch 2017) Sugar mouse – ‘What is it?’

So many possibilities here. The title does give it away, but still.

  ·         ‘In her nightmares, her grandfather had chased her around with an eyeball on a fork.’

  13.   (Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries) Stitch up - ‘I’d like to see you operate my sewing machine, Hugh Collins.’

Another shameless ripping off from the script. But nothing else can sum up this fic so perfectly. Title self-explanatory.

  ·         ‘Were sewing machines like dogs? He wondered. Did they take on the personalities of their owners?’

    14.   (Pushing Daisies) Girls don’t want boys, girls want damn respect – ‘Her boy always had an eye for the ladies.’

What a ridiculously clunky title. But apparently I couldn’t think of anything better. The opening line is much better.

  ·         ‘Calista was reminded of the principal at school that Emerson had crushed on so hard that he'd broken every fire alarm in the school over the course of several months just to get her attention. Some things never changed.’

  15.   (Holby City) Tell us the tale of a goat – ‘Did I ever tell you about how Serena and I met?’

A solid opening there, full of potential. The title is a bit crap. No, I have no idea why or how Serena would be working on the Italian railway either.

  ·         ‘You dressed one up in a poncho and called it aunt Gertrude?’ Fleur asked eventually. She really couldn’t think of anything better to say.’

  16.   (Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries) In the gracious light – ‘Jack tried not to let their questioning stares get to him.’

Based partly on the MFMM books, I’m happy with the opening line, it sets the tone. The title comes from Shakespeare’s Sonnet VII. ‘Lo! in the orient when the gracious light.’ With that, it ties in Jack and Lin quite nicely.

  ·         ‘After all, grandmama had warned him enough about the distraction of white girls. She had said nothing about white boys.’

    17.   (Holby City) Not yet – ‘Bernie wouldn't describe herself as an avid reader these days.’

Title taken from a line in the book Wicked. Opening line is pretty generic. I basically wrote this fic because Elphaba reminds me of Bernie in some respects. Also, premonition, sorry about that.

  ·         ‘In her mind, it was Serena in that cell, stretching out her hand to Bernie and chiding her affectionately for her delay.’

    18.   (Ghosts) Filth – ‘The Captain paid no attention to Lady Button's shrewish tone two rooms away.’

Simple title, simple opening line. Very direct. It’s the ‘why didn’t the Captain and Lady Button bond over the hot gardener in Lady Chatterly’s Lover together’ fic.

  ·         ‘The Captain sighed. That husband of hers had a lot to answer for. Bastard. He couldn't have killed her by poison or anything, no, he had to push her out of the damn window.’

  19.   (Ghosts & Holby City crossover) Over the top we go – ‘He couldn't believe it.’

So many things one couldn’t believe, a pretty generic opening. The title is a WW1 reference so not the correct war for the Captain but I used it anyway. Bernie is Haver’s niece.

  ·         ‘The Captain looked pleased but there was an expression in his eyes that Alison thought hid a sob in his heart.’

    20.   (Holby City) Boobs – ‘Arthur Digby was having a terrible day.’

Title, utterly crap, I know you’ll agree. Opening line, sums it up really. I like it.

  ·         'Well, call me Da Vinci and I'll paint you like one of those French girls.'

Art wasn't Fleur's strong point.’

So what did I learn about my opening lines? It does reflect my writing style, snappy and concise. I rarely ramble for long. Are they thrilling opening lines? Not usually. Do they set the scene or the tone? Much of the time. They are certainly not the best ones I’ve ever written. Considering that I don’t love most of these last lot of opening lines, I’m going to go with which witch is which? It’s the best one of the bunch, I think. 

[toothpastecanyon]

On Love and Lesser Feelings

This was inspired by this drawing of Dipper and Henry by @suitjackets on Tumblr. Go check them out, they have a really awesome art style and their drawing helped me get some inspiration while I was stuck in writer’s block!

After Mabel announces her pregnancy, Dipper and Henry talk on the roof.

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

________________________________________________________________

               Dipper wished he had nothing but love for his family. There was so much love between them, but there were other emotions simmering beneath the surface, and emotions about those emotions - there was fear for them, there was anger at himself… and there was jealousy.

               Dipper wished there wasn’t jealousy, but there it was. On most days it was small, negligible, but there were days when it flared up.

               Mabel’s graduation struck a nerve deep within him. He stayed there for her - clapped spitefully loud to drown out the burning in his chest - but after the ceremony was over, he had to step away for a week to sulk in the Mindscape.

               The wedding was another day. It was a happy day, and it was more annoying than anything else whenever he noticed it. He didn’t even want to be married, why was he being so childish about this?

               (That was the point, he knew. He couldn’t not be childish, he couldn’t grow up a day beyond the Transcendence, and it wasn’t fair-)

               The day Mabel told him she was pregnant, Dipper was suddenly struck by how old his sister was. Despite the bright pink sweater she had on and her rambling scheme about filling the attic with a metric ton of glitter… she was an adult. She was married. She had her own business.

               She was having children… and where did that leave Dipper? Just hanging on for the ride?

               He remembered sitting across from her, and it being hard to smile all of a sudden. Mabel went on, and Henry gave him a look.

               He was summoned up on the rooftop that night. Henry had a pack of Pitt Cola, and he tossed one to Dipper as soon as he materialised.

               “Hey,” Henry said. Dipper frowned.

               “Hey?” He looked around. “What’s, uh, what’s up? Why are we outside?”

               He shrugged. “It’s a pretty night. And I wanted to check in with you.”

               “Check in with- oh, no, it’s fine!” He put his hands up. “You guys are- you’ve got babies coming, you have a lot of stuff to do! I’m fine, I’m…”

               Henry was giving him a look. He trailed off.

               “I’m fine, I’m… just… just uh, hanging out. In the Mindscape. Um, nothing unusual there. so… yeah?”

               Henry motioned him over to the edge, and he reluctantly followed. Henry sat down, and Dipper sat down next to him, like an inferior being - hunched over where Henry sat up straight, looking down while Henry looked up at the stars, and smiled.

               It was like that for a moment, before Dipper felt he had to break the silence.

               “So…” He started, and then cleared his throat. “Uh, triplets. Yeah. That’s, that’s big.”

               “We’re having triplets?”

               Henry’s wide eyes swung over to him, and he cringed. “Oh, uh, I-I didn’t tell you yet? You are - or-or maybe not! It’s really early, it’s hard to tell!” He laughed nervously. “I probably, um, shouldn’t have dropped it on you like that, huh?”

               “Don’t worry about it, Dipper.” Henry’s face was noticeably paler, but he shook his head. “Anyway, I wanted to check in on you after the news. You looked a little… conflicted, while we were talking.”

               “I am happy for you guys! I seriously, I’m really excited!”

               “I know you are.” Henry gave him a smile. “I know you are. But if you wanted to talk about something… well, go ahead. I know this is big.”

               “I’m happy for you guys,” Dipper repeated. He looked down, down at his clawed hands, and frowned. Clenched them. “It’s… well, it’s nothing. It’s my own problem.”

               “What is?”

               “It’s - you don’t have to worry about it, it’s just-”

               “Dipper. What is the problem?”

               Dipper felt a hand on his shoulder. He flinched at it, then sighed, and sank down. Into his hands, he mumbled something.

               “What was that?”

               “-’m jealous.” Dipper looked down at the ground, anywhere but Henry’s face. “I don’t know, it’s just… Mabel and you, you’re doing great - and I’m happy for you! I’m really happy for you, but… I don’t know what I’m doing with my life.” He sank lower. “I’m just… tagging along with you guys.”

               Henry didn’t say anything, but rubbed his shoulder. After a moment, he continued.

               “I… I wanted to do things with my life. Before the Transcendence, I wanted to go to high school. Go to college. Get my own ghost hunting show, travel the world.” He sighed. “I suppose I can go all over the world now, but it’s different. It just… it’s not what I wanted to do with my life. None of this is what I wanted to do with my life.”

               The owls were hooting. Dipper leaned into Henry, and stared out at the forest.

               “I’m really, really happy for you guys,” he said, quietly. “But ever since the Transcendence, I feel like… I’ve just been stuck watching Mabel grow up. And she got to grow up, she got to do all these things, and I… I wish I got to do that, too.”

               Beside him, Dipper felt Henry sigh.

               “I’m sorry, Dipper.”

               “Don’t be,” he said. “It’s not gonna happen, so I wish I could just stop being stupid about it already.”

               “No, no, it… it sucks, and I’m sorry.” Henry held him tighter. “I’m sorry.”

               Dipper swallowed hard. There was a lump in his throat.

               “You can always talk to me about it, if you want to. And… I hope you know we’re happy you’re here.” Henry shifted in closer. “We’re happy you’re a part of our life, Dipper. You’re not just tagging along with us - you’re a part of our family.” He smiled. “You’re my brother.”

               At that, Dipper buried his face into Henry’s shirt. Under a beautiful night sky the two of them held each other, and for a moment, there was nothing but love between them.

[yanderemommabean]

Yandere!Purge!Izaya Orihara

(Kinda thrown together? I pieced this mess together based on the ending of the blurb. I hope you’re okay with that! I decided if I was gonna sit around doing nothing because of my wrists I might as well try to write! After all, ‘tis but a scratch! I also apologize if the tags are sparse. They’re kinda limited and I don’t know if I can make some of my own and I don’t really know how tumblr works so I’m sorry! I know that I already placed an ask too but I accidentally clicked on this instead of archive and wanted to try it out! Oh, and I think this is gender neutral. I guess I was going for a female reader but I don’t think I used any gendered pronouns towards the reader! Just in case I did though I’m not gonna label it as gender neutral. I’m sorry from rambling I just don’t wanna offend anyone and this is how it always turns out! - Existential Bean)

         "Happy hunting, Y/N. I’ll be waiting for you, my love.“

   A chill ran down your spine. That couldn’t be him… right? If it was, you needed to run, fast. He was already too close as is. You couldn’t afford to be caught.

   Running down the street at a brisk pace, unable to mask your anxiety as you nearly ran to your apartment. You wouldn’t completely run so as to not attract any attention, though it was risky, especially with the fact he could be anywhere, though likely near you. There had to be a few things there you could pick up, and maybe a few would help. It would be the first place any yandere would look, though, so you had to hurry.

   You had your phone, a few knives, a set of clothes, and a gun from your standard purge kit given to all the unfortunate souls with a yandere. You didn’t want to actually kill anyone though, yandere or not.

   Reaching your small but relatively decent apartment, you climbed several stairs before reaching the evergreen door you needed. Maybe this was a bad idea. It wasn’t exactly the safest place, so you couldn’t exactly hide out here.

   Opening the door, you entered the entry hall, passing multiple doors, the kitchen entry being the last, closest to the dining room at the end of the hall. There was a homely coppery wooden dining table and matching chairs, with black legs and backing in the small but cozy dining room, being the first and only thing you would see, as you had everything laid out in advance. The pepper spray, flashlight, and small stun gun in the guise of a small cell phone, had all been left on the table, as you were only allowed to bring your phone and keys to the purge announcement.

   There was occasionally a different punishment for not following purge rules every year, but usually with was being locked in a room with the yandere, with purge immunity included. Generally, it was never a good idea to ignore the rules, as it always backfired, even for the yanderes.

   The people who set this up considered this a game. The time it took for the darlings to go back to their home for anything else, if they chose to, would be used to help the yandere track their love. That’s why the ones chosen by the yanderes were only allowed to bring their phone and keys.

   Deciding that this had been more than enough time spent and you should most certainly leave, you turned around, only to find someone leaning in the doorway. They were turned away, so you couldn’t see anything more than the back of their fur-lined jacket, but it didn’t take much to hedge a guess.

   "I’m glad to have found you here, as predictable as it is! Of course you would come back, you even laid everything out for your return! I would expect nothing less from my Y/N, though,” a hint of pride seeping into his tone.

   You recognized that slightly smug voice. It was the announcer, and your yandere.

   Your apartment was small. All you had was a small balcony to the fire escape in your kitchen, but you’d need to get closer to him. 

   "Playing the quiet game now, are we? I expected more. You’re not so much different from the rest of the humans after all.

   “You’ve disappointed me.”

   Suddenly, he turned around, and started walking calmly in your direction, a mildly annoyed expression on his face. You could see his admittedly handsome features- dark hair, brown eyes and a sharp jaw, set in determination.

   You wouldn’t stay long enough to admire them.

   Darting in the direction of the kitchen, you slammed the door open and shut behind you, before darting over to the small balcony connected to the fire escape, making sure you shut that door behind you as well. Leaping over the rail, you heard the entrance behind you slam open and footsteps angrily march to the fire escape.

   "Oh, Y/N, you making this hard on both of us. You’ll have to be punished twice for that. It was a smart move, I’ll admit, but I’ve already considered this.“

   By now, you were already a few levels below him, but you weren’t necessarily athletic, and you were running out of stamina fast. You could hear him catching up.

   Fortunately, you had by now made it to the ground, and was making a run for it out of the alleyway.

   You were yanked back. You had been caught.

   "It was pointless, you see now? I suppose it’s good for you I’m rather bored, and Shizu-chan hasn’t been any fun lately. I blame you for that.”

   And, as suddenly as you were grabbed, he let you go.

   "Oh, and don’t take this as me letting you go! I’ll have you by the end of the day, I’ll just give you one more chance to make yourself different from the rest of the humans. Just make sure to be more talkative next time!“

  Booking it out of the alleyway just in case, you looked back and didn’t see him again. By now, it was 12:00 P.M. and you knew you were most likely going to be taken. It started at 8:00 A.M. and if he already found you, then there was virtually no hope.

   But you had to try.

   You could run to another city, but even then there was a chance he could follow. Maybe the best option was just to roam for a while, sticking to the crowds and staying alert.

   For now though, you needed to find somewhere to eat. Something fast.

   Deciding that Russia Sushi would be the best place for now, you walked hastily, constantly looking over your shoulder. Several times you could’ve sworn you saw that jacket again, but it had to just be you. It had to be.

   Finally arriving in front of the restaurant, greeting Simon on your way in. Everyone who had lived here for a while knew him.

  "Ah, Y/N! Good to see you! Purge bad, sushi good! Come have sushi!”

   Nodding to him, a slight smile on your lips, you responded, “I think I will. I hope you have a good day yourself, Simon.”

   Opening the door and immediately walking to a table, you quickly figured out what you wanted and ordered it as quickly as possible. There was no fire escape this time, he could easily corner you and nobody could do anything, not even Simon.

   Practically inhaling your food, you looked up halfway through your meal and actually saw the jacket this time. He sauntered into a booth just behind you, but not before sending you a smirk, taunting you.

   Eating even faster now, it wasn’t too long before you finished everything, paid, and literally ran out this time.

   You didn’t know what else to do. By now, it was only 12:23 P.M. and it seemed the likelihood of surviving was next to none. 

   Maybe the best option was stick to crowds, get no attention, and run if necessary.

   For the next few hours, you had simply wandered. It was fortunately 3:56 P.M now. You hadn’t seen him again, not even his jacket, and you were starting to think you had lost him. You had even seen other unfortunate people being dragged off by their respective yanderes.

   Finally deciding it was safe enough to take a break for a few minutes, you found a bench, sat down and rested your feet.

   "I don’t think you realize just how much trouble you’ve been,“ a voice breathed in your ear, before snatching your wrist and hauling you off to the nearest alleyway.

   You sent a pleading gaze to the people around you, but they simply averted their eyes and kept going. If anything, they helped by getting out of his way, knowing exactly what was happening.

   "Let go of me! Don’t touch me!”

   Finally deep enough in the alleyway nobody would hear or see you, he turned around and said in a smug voice, “Oh? so you finally decide to say something? It was about time. You had started to bore me.”

   You had tried to yank his hand from his grip, but despite his lean frame, he was rather strong.

   "What is wrong with you? I don’t even know you! Why can’t you leave me alone?“

   He shook his head, almost as if disappointed. 

   "Oh, but you do know me. Don’t you remember? You had stood up for me against a group of thugs. Not that I needed your help, but silly little you didn’t know that, now did you?”

   That was… him?

   "Oh, you’re so forgetful! I’ll just have to make sure you’ll never forget me again.“

   He tugged on your wrist and pulled you closer to him, wrapping an arm around your waist and staring sultrily into your eyes.

   "I’ve been watching you this entire time, you know. You’re a bit of a hypocrite! You stare pitifully at the others being taken, but you make no attempt to help them, yet you almost expect yourself to be helped. I suppose it’s just one of the many things I love about you…”

   He started to lean down, trying to force a kiss.. You squirmed and squirmed but to no avail.

   "Fuck you,“ you said, headbutting him on the forehead.

   He groaned and turned away, holding his head. Unfortunately, he didn’t let go of your wrist. If anything, he tightened his grip on it.

   "I’m done playing with you, Y/N. We’ll just have to sort this out when we get home. You’ll regret being so disobedient. It’s almost as if you’re asking for some fun.”

  “IZAYA! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING NOW?” a loud and obviously very angry voice interrupted.

   The man now dubbed as Izaya looked back, still holding his forehead, and glared at you.

   "Look what you’ve done.“

   Just then, a blond haired man in a bartender’s suit turned the corner behind him and charged full force, wielding a street sign.

   Just before the man reached the two of you, Izaya scooped you up and darted down the allyway and into the street, still being pursued by the blond.

   "Come on, Shizu-chan! Can’t you leave me alone? All I want for now is to take my Y/N home!” he taunted, obviously wanting him to follow.

   "You psychopath!“

Izaya only hummed in response. He weaved through the alleys, over rooftops and through streets, and you didn’t dare let go, not wanted to be potentially killed by the blond behind, though halfway through you decided potential injury was better than being stuck with him all your life. 

   Unfortunately, blondie seemed to be lagging behind, if his distant roars of anger and frustration were anything to go by. Izaya wouldn’t be distracted at all soon.

   Soon enough, you couldn’t hear him at all anymore, and your struggles increased tenfold.

   "Ah, don’t worry, Y/N. We’re here already!”

   He abruptly set you down and grabbed your wrist, dragging you along behind him.

   "No, please! Let me go! I don’t want to-“

   "No. You’re mine now. You’ve been disobedient enough. I need to put you in your place, and you will let me!” he rudely interrupted, far past his breaking point.

   There wasn’t any point now. You were his.

   He dragged you into the elevator, yanking you around and slamming you into the wall, pressing his body against yours.

   You could’ve sworn you felt… something… pressing against you down there.

   "What will I do with you?“

   There was no sign-wielding man to save you now. He firmly pressed his lips against yours in a needy, desperate kiss, keeping your body pinned between him and the edge of the elevator.

   All you could do was squirm and whimper in the kiss, while he greedily stole your breath and forced his tongue in your mouth.

   Ding.

   The elevator saved you this time.

   He reluctantly pulled away, taking your wrist again and dragging you to his penthouse.

   He didn’t waste a second in bringing you to a bedroom, slamming the door and releasing your wrist.

   You immediately backed up, facing him.

   He slowly turned around, excitement and… lust gleaming in those brown eyes of his.

  He slowly, purposefully walked towards you, keeping you pinned with that look of his.

   Suddenly darting forward, he snatched your wrist and pulled the two of you on the bed, twisting so he was on top, pinning you down and ensuring you can’t get away from him.

   That something you felt earlier? You definitely weren’t imagining it.

   Hooking his fingers in your pants, he announced, "It’s time for your punishment.”

(He might be a little ooc though because it’s been a while since I watched DRRR!! but I think I still have him down decently. The only thing I don’t really like about this is Shizu-chan, I feel like it’s kinda cheap and I don’t like it but I don’t remember his nickname from the dubbed version if he even had one. Oh, and this may not be important, but Namie wasn’t there because she was chasing her beloved Seiji. A tad gross tho cuz she’s his sister :\)

*looks at the fortunately-still-brother/sister relationship between Namie and Seiji*

*banjo music plays in background*

(oh and I want you guys to know this is 6.9 pages lmao)

((BEAN I LOVE THIS!! YOU DID SUCH AN AMAZING JOB!)))

[hamtigers]

So for some reason I woke up today thinking about an RP community I used to be a part of for awhile years ago. So I just wanna give a shot out to anyone who used to be a part of the KH RP board Kingdoms Unleashed awhile back, especially before they shut it down and re-opened it. I tried to come back once after it reopened but I just... couldn’t stay inspired enough for threads with the character I returned on and the fact that they didn’t allow OCs anymore honestly killed a lot of the appeal in the forum for me. And during typing this I just noticed my bookmark for it still exists, but the board itself has been deleted. So I suppose I may as well delete the bookmark.

more specifics about my feelings (and info about the board for anyone uninvolved but curious) below the cut because I am going to ramble A LOT. Like... this post is gonna be hella long, so I’m sorry if read-mores don’t work on mobile still. Also sorry if this shows up in people’s searches since tumblr picks words out of the whole body and not just the tags.

I honestly feel like I’ve made a post like this once before in the past but I still... want to make it again, because I’m feeling incredibly nostalgic about it. Kingdoms Unleashed was a KH-centric RP board on proboards that I lucked out and got into very early on in its life thanks to @highly-radioactive-nerd stumbling across it. I know a few buds from the board also were mutuals on tumblr, but I don’t know how many of you guys still use this site. But anyway, the big draw of the board was that you could bring in characters from outside of KH as long as they “fit the feel” of kingdom hearts, which they ruled as being: from a disney property, from a videogame, from an anime/manga, or from a similiarly styled media(as the catchall for allowing characters from, say, avatar the last airbender in despite it being a western-made cartoon). This was before the big starwars and marvel mergers, which is funny to me because western superheroes were a given example of what wasn’t allowed. Every character (whether they were from KH or not) had to go through an application process, and it was the main way they screened for quality control in RP and so that they could make sure no one was bringing in any super overpowered characters (the quality bar wasn’t like, elitist or anything, you just had to show a basic grasp and consistency on the character’s personality and that you weren’t gonna post a bunch of one-liners) The minimum required activity level to keep a character was pretty lenient too, you just had to make sure you made a post like... somewhere around once or twice every two week period, with activity checks being made once a month? Unless you gave notice of an extended absence. (common reasons included travelling w/o internet access since smartphones weren’t common yet, computer problems, health reasons, and needing to study for classes and exams)

But on top of all this, they also allowed OCs and fan characters under some small stipulations. The big ones I remember are: -No keyblade wielders to avoid an over saturation of keyblades -No vastly overpowered characters. This applied to canon characters too though. Like... one person got to have a touhou character only because her powers got stripped down a lot and they had already proven themselves as a long time responsible RPer on the forum. -No pre-existing ties to canon characters. They could know OF someone if it made sense for their background! But they couldn’t have already met them personally. Anything that develops in character after that is free game of course, but if a canon character got dropped then picked up by someone else, they had no obligation to pick up where the previous player left off. This bullet point is gonna be super important in my later talking! -This is kind of a sub-thing of the last one, but nobodies also couldn’t (officially) join org-XIII under any circumstance.

 One of the GMs even admitted in the forum chat at one point that they were on the fence about allowing OCs to begin with, but they were glad they did because of the quality of OCs that got brought in.

The place ended up flourishing into a VERY healthy roleplay forum, with the  rare drama cases either being resolved or with the instigator getting thrown out if they didn’t settle down. My favorite part was that unlike other RP places I’ve been on, there wasn’t a massive posse schism or canon/OC schism. No, people RPed canon characters with OCs and fancharacters and characters from different games or anime constantly, to the point where several canon characters ended up in romantic relationships with peoples’ OCs.

I loved it. My characters never ended up among those dating canon characters, but it made me so genuinely happy to see a forum so openly embracing fan characters and OCs to that degree. I was used to people only wanting to facilitate ships they already had in their minds, or making fun on FC/canon ships in other places that it just genuinely made me happily astounded to see the forum grow into a place where that was common and other RPers would actually like... get invested in and follow these romances they weren’t a part of despite not knowing the OC.

I still occasionally wonder, however, if the forum’s overall activity hadn’t dwindled down, if I would have landed a ~dream ship~ with a canon character and my own fancharacter. A bunch of people had been recently bringing in FFIV characters (which is my fav FF not counting XIV) so I decided to take a chance on bringing in my fan character, Ayletta. This was shortly after I had lost inspiration for Rydia and dropped her so that another fan of the character could have her instead and hopefully do her more justice.  Ayletta is a physically disabled girl (can’t stand or walk for more than very short periods of time) that relies on her Chocobo to get around and dreams of having her own chocobo ranch. What didn’t get included in her profile or mentioned by me anywhere on forum was that I "secretly” ship her with Kain.

Guess who just happened to be the only person that joined my first thread I started as her was? I was immediately ecstatic, even more so when I saw how quickly they got along even with someone else controlling him. What really got me and left me wondering what ~could have been~ is what they included in his described thoughts, but not in his spoken words. The RPer drew parallels between Ayletta/her chocobo and Kain’s father/his dragon to the point where he immediately was in awe and respect of the bond between Ayletta and her bird. This was a facet I had never even realized or considered between them before then, and only added to the fuel of my own thoughts. The thread was fairly short lived, but there was definitely plans for them both to meet up again later on which unfortunately never got to happen.

[eldritchsurveys]

680.

Do you or have you ever owned a cup with your name on it? >> Actually, I have two. One time there was this dude in Meijer who was doing a promotion for Guinness, and the promo was apparently... giving out custom-engraved pint glasses???? You told him your name and he had this machine that put it on the glass for you. It was weird, especially since it was free... The font that your name is in is a bit wack, though. The other thing I have is a wine glass painted with a nighttime-y scene with skeletal trees and ravens on it. It has my name painted on the stand part, along with the date of my wedding. Sparrow has one too, with her name on it. I’m not even sure where they came from, tbh, but they’re pretty.

What’s the most expensive crafts tool that you own? >> I don’t think I own any expensive crafts tools. The only things I have are, like, pencils, a sketchbook, knitting needles, and yarn.

Have you ever woven baskets of any kind (wicker, paper, cardboard etc.)? >> Maybe as a child.

How do you like Great Balls of Fire by Jerry Lee Lewis? >> It’s all right.

Speaking of Jerry Lee Lewis, have you seen the biopic about him? >> I don’t think so.

How about the biopic about Tina Turner? >> Yeah, I saw that one.

Do you like the TV-show Frasier? >> I do, it’s actually funnier to me now than when I was younger. Back then I thought it was boring but it kills me now.

What’s something you know by heart? >> A lot of song lyrics? Also, the Litany Against Fear.

What is something you’re greedy about? >> I don’t think I’m particularly greedy about anything.

How valuable does a coin have to be for you to bother to pick it up? >> I’d pick up a quarter, maybe. I’m just no longer in the financial position where picking up coins substantially enhances my available funds.

What would be something you would wait in line to get for free? >> It depends on how long the line is, what kind of mood I’m in, and where I am... not just on what the item is. If I’m in a good mood and the line seems manageable, I’d wait in it even if the item is just some random trinket that I have no real use for. If I’m not in a good mood and the line is insane, I wouldn’t wait in it even if it was for an expensive thing I’ve been wanting for ages.

Has there ever been a leak anywhere in your house? >> No.

Have you ever slipped in the shower? >> Not to the point of falling.

Have you ever made any decorative crafts? If so, are they displayed? >> Not in recent memory.

Is it very humid where you are right now? >> Nah.

What is the most suggestive thing someone has said to you? >> *shrug*

Do you have friends who you playfully flirt with? >> No.

Doesn’t the Z in the Bzoink logo look like an L to you, too? >> I mean, not really, but I see where you’re coming from.

Did you ever take that 5000 question survey that was circulating Tumblr? >> Yeah, I took it a long time ago. Once the novelty wore off, I realised that most of the questions were just terrible IMO, which is bound to happen once you endeavour to write a survey with quite that many questions.

Have you ever had to change a zipper in your favourite article of clothing? >> No.

Do you prefer buttons or zippers in general? >> Zippers.

Did you grandma have a box full of pretty buttons? >> ---

What’s the most exotic spice in your spice rack? >> Hmm... garam masala, maybe? We have a wide variety.

Do buttons tempt you to press them? >> Not usually, but sometimes.

Do you have a favourite television host? >> No.

What’s your opinion on celebrity chefs? >> I think some of them are cool and fun to watch. Alton Brown is probably my fave.

Back when it first started, did you watch ANTM? >> I think I’ve seen a season or two. I knew someone who got on it, too (Isis King).

Did you know, that there was even a Finnish version of ANTM? Miss Jay made an appearance in the first season, too. >> No, I didn’t know that, but it makes sense. There are a bunch of those shows modeled after American Idol, too, for different countries.

Are you accident prone? >> No.

Have you ever broken something really valuable? >> I accidentally broke a laptop screen once, and that was pretty damn valuable to me.

What do you see as timeless? >> ---

What is something that you own, that has sentimental value? >> Most of these plushies.

Have you ever had your own website? >> Yeah, I’ve taken stabs at it.

What’s your favourite board game? >> ---

How about your favourite card game? >> ---

What’s something that you finished recently? >> I finished watching Sparrow play through Death Stranding, lol. I’m glad it was her and not me, because I’m pretty sure that game would have made me ragequit within the first few hours, and that would have been a shame.

What’s the smallest town you recall visiting? >> I have no idea.

What’s the longest distance you’ve had to go to work or school? >> ---

Would you learn a new language, if you didn’t share one with your lover? >> Oh, like in Love Actually? I mean, I can’t imagine myself in that situation, but I thought it was cute.

Do you have friends who are constantly tagging you in challenges on FB? >> No. People who have me on facebook should know I prefer to do my actual fun socialising on here or Discord.

When it comes to chocolate, do you prefer nougat, jelly or caramel filling? >> ---

Are you more concerned about winning than just participating? >> No.

Has somebody you know taken their own life? >> No.

What is a number that has some significance to you? Why is that? >> 9. Well, there’s a lot of synchronicity.

Do you prefer onions, leeks or chives? >> I don’t think I have a preference, I’ll take all three. Onions may be the most versatile, though, so maybe those.

What’s the most adult thing you have to do every day? >> I don’t think I have to do any adult thing every day. Maybe feeding myself is an adult thing? Although teenagers and even kids do that too.

What’s the most immature thing you like to do every day? >> ---

Have you seen the movie, Clue? If so, isn’t it fab? >> No, but I’ve seen some funny gifsets that make me think it’d probably be a good time. I might give it a shot if I run into it on a streaming service one day.

Do your cheeks get flushed easily? Do you blush easily in general? >> No, I’ve never felt that feeling.

Are there any social cues you miss entirely? >> Oh, definitely.

When someone doesn’t smile back at you, what’s your first thought? >> They probably didn’t want to, and that’s okay. I don’t always want to smile at everyone who smiles at me, either, and it shouldn’t be a mark against my character just because I don’t smile at a stranger. But, you know, whatever. Any stranger that takes that much offense at me not smiling at them probably wouldn’t get along with me for very long anyway, so it’s a useful social litmus test in the end.

Is there a person who melts your heart just by looking at you? >> No. Well, maybe Can Calah sometimes.

Have you ever had tom kha kai? It’s a Thai coconut soup, and it’s amazing. We serve it at work. >> No, but I’d definitely try it.

Have you, or anyone you know ever been rude to a server? >> I’ve never had the experience of having to watch someone I’m with be rude to a server and I am so glad for that.

What’s something you’re opinionated and very vocal about? When’s the last time you had to verbally defend your stance? >> I don’t know. I don’t really defend any stance of mine, I just put it out there sometimes if I feel like rambling about it and then leave it alone. Arguing with people about shit that ultimately really don’t matter is a waste of my valuable energy.

Have you ever played BitLife? I sort of got hooked on it, it’s like sims but in text form. >> No. I quite like the graphical form of The Sims, so I’ll stick to that.

What’s something you regularly order online? >> CBD.

When’s the last time you made a penpal? >> I’ve never had one.

Do you often make friends online? >> I make a lot of acquaintances online. Friends are far fewer.

Do people ever try to get something from somebody through you? As in, they ask you to ask the person they should be asking in the first place. If that makes sense. >> No. Which is good, because I wouldn’t do it.

What do you think when you see a couple holding hands? >> Nothing???

Is there anything you’re forced to share with someone else? >> No.

What’s something stripy that you own? >> I have a black-and-royal-blue striped robe with the Ravenclaw logo on the back.

How about something polka dotted? >> Nothing.

What is something you find absolutely appalling? >> Some people’s utterly disrespectful behaviour on this website.

Do you like elevators? >> I mean, they’re fine. I don’t dislike them.

What’s the first thing that comes to mind when I say “midnight madness”? >> Like... premieres? Or book releases? Or something like that. I have a vague association but I can’t remember exactly where it comes from.

What is a country you would never want to visit? >> ---

When you’re angry, does it ever get physical? >> Well, yeah, but not necessarily towards someone else.

What do you do, when you’re immensely happy? >> It depends on how I feel like expressing it at the time? Sometimes I don’t express it much at all, and sometimes I literally jump around the room.

What made you scream out loud the last time you screamed? >> ---

Can you hear your neighbours through the wall? >> Sometimes.

What is something that frustrates you to no end? >> Noise.

Do you wear shoes indoors? >> Absolutely not.

Who is your favourite stand-up comedian? >> Bo Burnham, Dylan Moran, and in general I’m fond of how Tiffany Haddish presents as a person and performer.

What’s the weirdest video youtube has suggested to you? >> It doesn’t usually suggest me anything weird.

What’s the funniest infomercial you’ve seen? >> ---

Is there a drink that just goes right through you? >> I don’t feel that way about any drink, no.

Is there a food item you can’t eat because it doesn’t agree with you? >> Not that I’ve encountered.

Do you playfully compete with someone about something? >> No.

Would you rather swim or run? >> I can’t swim, so my options are a little limited here.

Do you like the smell of tar? >> Sometimes, yeah.

Have you ever been to a sauna? >> No. I couldn’t last two minutes in a sauna.

Does your doorbell ring unexpectedly often? >> Not often, but sometimes people will ring multiple apartments trying to get into the building, which is fucking irritating.

Is your favourite fictional character a human, an animal or something else? >> I am my favourite fictional character. /facetious

Have you ever helped a stranger? If so, what did you do? >> I mean, sure. Just simple stuff, like picking up something they’ve dropped or letting them know they’ve left their key in the apartment door or dropping their mail off when it gets mistakenly put into my box.

Do you share hobbies with any of your friends? What do you do together? >> ---

Do you have any flags on display? If so, what flag(s)? >> I don’t. Sparrow has a rainbow flag with a peace sign in the middle on her wall.

[pigeontheoneandonly]

Serendipity

I saw a reply to a post over @ao3commentoftheday suggesting it’s impossible to write a slow burn in less than 10k words.  My dumbass brain took this as “challenge accepted”. Who knows if I hit the mark, but I’m pretty happy with the result!  This baby clocks in at 2487 words.  Tucked under a read more, because that’s still a lot for tumblr.

Fandom: Dragon Age

When we met, I couldn’t see any part of you beneath the mud you’d earned trying to kill me. I don’t know why I took you with us, except that you were an elf without anywhere to go, and in Ferelden an elf with no home was good as dead, and we just don’t do that to each other. Naturally none of the shems understood. I bound up your wounds alone, thinking it would’ve been easier if you’d just fucking died.

The first prick of sympathy came when we arrived at the Dalish camp.  You called me my dear warden, mocking the double-meaning of my title and your technical captivity.  You flirted shamelessly with me the whole way, undeterred by my gender or my cold silence, and put me in a bad mood because I couldn’t tell if it was genuine interest, or something you felt you had to do, offer yourself to me, to stay in my good graces.  With a man for sale it could go either way.  But I saw how your ears went red and your tongue fell silent, when our wilder cousins sniggered at your tattoos, your so-called “city vallaslin”.  It’s horrible to be an in-between, unwanted alike by the society that spawned you and the one you live with, to be lumped in with those who keep you in squalor and kill you at will.  Watching their whispers subdue you angered me more than all the flirting put together. And fuck, wasn’t that annoying.

I bought you a pair of gloves.  I don’t know why.  They didn’t deserve my money, you didn’t deserve my kindness, but you looked at their tooled leather like you were reading a secret map, and I had to know what you saw written there.  You didn’t say thank you.  But you told me your mother was Dalish.  I told you mine had died.  I told you how she died, even though that’s a thing I don’t tell anyone, because my mouth moved before my mind could scream stop.  

You made a joke.  I shoved you hard into the underbrush and stalked away before I killed you.  We never talked about it again.

In fact, we barely spoke at all, the whole long, rainy road to Orzammar.  We didn’t speak through the political battle, we didn’t speak cooped up for days in a king’s mansion, and we didn’t speak as the heavy stone gates of the deep roads clanged shut behind us.  

I had been a Warden for all of eight weeks.  Alistair warned me that Wardens Joined in a Blight always were more sensitive, and all my newfound awareness remained raw as a fresh-hewn board.  In the deep, I could hear them everywhere. Feel them, crawling through my skin like worms; smell them in the still and sour air.  I could fucking taste them when we stopped to rest and I had no distraction.  

The dwarves told me this was where Wardens went to die.  I hugged my knees in the weak torchlight of our camp, feeling myself lost in the dark with them pressing in all around me, until they tore me apart, and for the first time, I hoped the Blight would kill me.  Sleep was a fantasy.  It showed, more and more, the deeper we went.

I didn’t notice the first time you offered to carry my knapsack, so tired I gave it over without question, numb to anything but the need to keep walking.  The occasional darkspawn nest was a respite. Better to fight them than sense them waiting, a constant pressure of millions of eyes on the back of my neck.

I didn’t notice when you started staying up with me.  I figured you weren’t tired, either.  I still wasn’t speaking.  But you rambled, about your childhood, about your exploits with the Crows, reciting snippets of awful Antivan poetry and singing bawdy songs you couldn’t quite remember.  But it came as a shock when I woke up, the first I’d slept since we entered the roads, curled up against the cave wall, beside you.  You smiled, still awake.  Wished me good morning.

We fucked for the first time the first night we camped above ground again, drunk on dwarven ale and being out of that thrice-damned hole, that endless crushing darkness.  In the morning we agreed it didn’t mean anything. Just the mindless choice of two bodies almost sick with relief.

You flirted less, after that.  I talked more.  I told you about coming up to the sealed gates of the Denerim alienage, hearing the word purge from the indifferent shem guard, and how I still didn’t know if my father or Shianni or any one of  these people who’d been my entire world were alive.  The ridiculous story I made up for those two kids, because elves survive on hope.  My absolute disaster of a wedding, doomed long before the kidnapping; I was all my father had left, and the truth, that my  inclinations were not reproductively compatible, would have crushed him.  That if I closed my eyes, I could still feel a ghost of euphoria remembering my sword plunging into Vaughan’s gut, that I was only sorry I only got to do it once.

I don’t know why you listened.  Put together, the whole thing rang absurd, not very sane and certainly not much like a Warden.

I do know that when the sloth demon snared us in nightmares, and I saw you stretched on that rack, my vision went red.  When I came back to myself, your brother Crows were in pieces and you were gone. A little of whatever-the-fuck that was lingered when we woke; I took two running steps toward you, so damn happy to see you without joints popped and bruised.  You stumbled one step back, on instinct, a portrait of humiliation.  I faltered and the moment died.

You moved back to your own tent.  We’d taken to sleeping side-by-side.  The nights grew colder as the season waned, and the Blight spread, and the presence of another body in the night was an affordable comfort.  I stared at the large space you left behind, startled to miss you this much.

Things stayed like that as we marched back to Denerim for the Landsmeet.  Cordial, but distant.  Hurt without reason and annoyed over it, to the point that Leliana warned me that compelling a Landsmeet as an elf would be hard enough without a pissy attitude.  Maybe that was why it was so easy for Anora to betray us, because irritation makes me impatient and rude.  But you snuck and charmed your way through the most heavily fortified prison in Ferelden to get us out— to get me out.  And somehow I was still annoyed.  

I said you must be really hard up for protection.  You crowded me into the wall.  For a wild moment I thought you’d shank me, and then for an even more terrifying one, that you’d kiss me.  Instead, you told me to consider your blood debt paid, and shoved off down the street. Angry as I’d ever seen you.

And what was worse, you stayed angry, and I stayed on edge, and maybe that’s how we got jumped by a dozen Crows in a dead-end alley, one of your bad decisions come home to roost in earnest.  Their leader offered to wipe your slate, to take you back to Antiva, make up a story and let you go home.  Not like an order, but like a friend, offering you a way out.

You looked at me.  Months on the road, and I couldn’t read your face.  And what I remember isn’t thinking I was about to die, but that I was about to lose you to this smug shem jackass, of all people.  

Then you said no.  And the shit hit the wall.  

We lived, somehow.  Your old friend went down last, and hard, your Crow-hilted dagger quivering between his ribs as his heart pumped itself out.  You fell down beside him.  Uninjured beyond a few nasty scratches, curled into a ball on the cobbles like you were dying, too.  

I asked something that amounted to what the fuck.  And it all came pouring out.  You grew up together, you and him and some girl named Rinna, a little family inside the unending terror of Crow education.  If you couldn’t love the Crows, you could love them, and for a time the comfortable rewards of your harsh training were made sweeter by their sharing.  Until Rinna betrayed you to a mark.

He killed her while you watched, you told me, your head in my lap.  While she begged your help, you taunted her.  She died with her love for you on her lips.  You both went forward with the job, a loose end to clean up, and discovered there proof of Rinna’s honesty, her fidelity. You killed her together and now you’d killed him, too.

The silence stretched as the torrent of words finally stopped.  Feeling your face damp on my leg.  There was nothing to say, but that silence was a wounding kind, so I told you the stupid story about the bluebird in the vhenadahl. Recited rhymes we used to sing as kids, playing hopscotch and tag in the dirt.    On and on, until the sun slipped below the buildings, and you were able to sit up, and we left.

It never came up between us again.  In fact, very little had changed.  A mild thaw in an undercurrent neither of us wanted to address.  It seemed impossible we’d be able to swim it; diving in could only lead to drowning.

Returning to the alienage put it out of my mind.  My family spared by the purge, but still not safe.  Murder and disease and hints of darker things make good distractions. When we discovered elves were disappearing, you volunteered to scout, as you had so many times before.  I thought nothing of it.  Until I was sitting up alone at my childhood dinner table, more than a day past when you should have returned, too paralyzed to do more than stare at the door and plead with the Maker or the gods or whoever might be listening for you to walk through it.

Sometime after midnight, you finally did.  You caught sight of me, and tendered a look of exasperation.  My dear warden, you said again, chiding this time, and before you could continue I flung my arms around your neck, too tight for you to get anything else out.  And we stood still there, like that, because if I let go I’d slap you. I hated you.  You were the most important person in my world, and if you died it would change me, and I hated you for it.

We went into that warehouse together, and pulled people— my people— out of cages together.  We read the manifest of those already sold away.  You put your arms around me, when I stepped into an alley after it was done and screamed and screamed and screamed into my own hands, because even if we somehow got justice this time, there was no undoing it, and no way to stop it happening again.  Because this was the Black City we all had to live in.  You told me then that you’d been sold, too, into a different fate but one ugly in its own way.  And my hand slipped into yours where it wrapped around my chest, just for a moment, until someone called us back to the mess we’d made.

You watched as I took the bastard Loghain’s head, and if it didn’t feel like justice for my kin, it did feel good.  You stood beside me as I promised a collection of the most powerful people in Ferelden, shems all, that I could save their country, and hours later, when I was sick back at the manor where we stayed.

You weren’t there when Riordan told me I was going to die.  It’s hard to remember now how out-of-our-minds, slap-happy with relief Alistair and I were when he showed up, fucking finally a senior warden who knew what he was doing.  That went up like a matchstick when he explained a grey warden giving their life to contain the archdemon was the only way to end the Blight.  He said some other things after that, but I didn’t hear them over the sound of one solitary thought:  I cannot put Zev through that again.  I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…

And you weren’t there when Morrigan caught me as I shambled from that room, weak with shock and grief.  You weren’t there when she told me there was a way out.  You weren’t there to see my revulsion— not at what she suggested, but at myself, because I knew my answer immediately.  I could not do that to you, not even with the entire world in the balance. That whatever the consequences, whatever pain this brought on me or on the child to come, if it spared you another heartbreak, the price felt fair.

I stumbled to your room no more than half-dressed.  You smelled the sex on me immediately.  Your face twisting with hurt and rage, until I fell down at your feet, my head on your knees, and told you everything.  What waited for us in the heart of the Blight.  The blood magic Morrigan wrought.  That I’d done it for you, that I begged your forgiveness, that if you left now I’d never be the same and please, please, Maker, please stay.

Your hand lifted my chin.  Your expression like I’d never seen before, tender and fond and something else. Something electric.  Your voice a whisper.  “My dear warden…”

“I love you,” I said.  It was what I’d been trying to say through all the incoherent babble.  Maybe for a lot longer than just this night.

You bent and kissed me.  And in the softness of your mouth, every worry and doubt melted away.

We’d seen each other many times before.  But you never trailed your thumb slowly across my every scar, from the faded wounds of Ostagar to the scrape from just this morning.  I never traced over the swirls of your tattoos with my tongue. We never drifted back to each other every other moment for a lingering wet kiss, never burrowed a face into a neck or tangled our legs or clung so close together that we seemed more one person than two.  It never felt right, not like this.  

And as I looked into your face in the dying firelight, brushing my fingers over your cheek, I thought about you covered in mud and pain and waiting to die.  Maybe the world didn’t care about us, but in its making, if there was just enough serendipity to let me find you, maybe that was all the care I needed.

[jack-kellys]

thank u, next: finale part 1

hey everyone ;)

thank u, next is finally back and this thing I wrote is so long that it's TWO PARTS LONG!! isn't that EXCITING?? (it's only two parts because tumblr won't let it fit but it's fine)

all previous chapters are at the bottom of my masterlist—read for a refresher if ya need lmao it's been a while

here we go!

————

LAST TIME ON TU,N: al and race had their first date, al revealed some of his history, both boys admitted they loved each other (essentially), and race mentioned something about needing to stall....

words: 1527

warnings: cursing, death mention, cliffhanger?? :0

———

Five, Part One

“I think it’s ready.”

Race tilted his head to face his boyfriend as he said this, hands placed neatly over his stomach as he laid on the bed. Race’s quiet demeanor was misleading, as usual—a storm was roaring inside, a hurricane spinning and making his chest tighten in apprehension.

“What’s ready, Al?” Race asked.

Albert turned his head to the side as well, gazing at Race with a new light in his eyes. His smile was so wide and endearing that it nearly broke Race’s heart.

“The apartment, stupid,” Al scoffed. “We fixed it up, cleaned it, I got all the papers ready, my stuff’s all ready…” Al grinned. “I’m ready to move into it.”

And then Race’s heart did break.

Al looked so, so happy. Race knew that for Albert, getting his own place was a bigger milestone than it already would be for the average person. It meant something more than just a second floor apartment—it was a freedom Al had longed for since he was twelve, he'd said. A freedom that would rip whatever freedom Albert currently had away from him.

“You sure, baby?” Race whispered, trying not to let his voice break. “Everything’s done? There’s nothing left to prepare, nothing left to pack up?”

“Nope!” Al shook his head, eyes glinting as he leaned over to Race. “It’s done. Everything’s done. It’s gonna be mine, Antonio. All mine. Just like you.”

He pressed his lips hard onto Race’s, Race eagerly tangling his fingers into Albert’s red hair. Al’s hand was warm against his cheek, his thumb rubbing softly against him despite the intensity of the kiss. Race lost himself in Albert more than usual, hyper-focused on every detail—every freckle, every hair out of place, the feel of his hands on him, the taste of his lips and tongue, every small sound he made. Ironic how Al called him perfect, since the opposite was true.

After a while, Race was tracing his fingers over Albert’s stomach as the man rambled about how he wanted to set up the place, Race nodding every so often.

How Race’s heart shattered for him—this most undeserving man who had been nothing but endlessly interesting and funny and warm to him. Yes, Albert’s infatuation was mostly false, but Race could feel the deep friendly affection Albert harbored for him as well, one Race harbored right back. Only once before had Race let himself do that—in 1905, a boy named Sean Conlon walked into that same apartment door with a skeptical glance and narrowed eyes, and to Race’s dismay, they were friendly as well as intimate. It had broke him then, and it was breaking him now.

Through the rest of the week, it would continue to break him. Race helped Albert move into the place, not allowed to let Al get any suspicions as to why Race might have seemed gloomy. Moving in was tragically fun, the two of them laughing as they dropped boxes, picking up their contents and talking about nothing and everything. Race was surprised at his ability to keep the lump in his throat down enough to even talk to Al. Lucky, too—Albert was rather smart at figuring when something was wrong.

“I think that's everything,” Albert huffed, smiling and wiping his hands on his jeans. “I can't believe it.”

“Neither can I,” Race laughed, shaking his head. “Fast, huh?”

“Yeah, thank God. I thought that was gonna take so much longer. I'd assumed the worst,”

Al shrugged. Then he grinned, doing a small spin with his arms out in the center of the room. “But this is so great! It's all mine, and I'm responsible for it, and I make the rules—well, technically not, but still…”

Albert’s rambling faded away slightly as Race felt something in his chest. A sort of tug, like something was trying to get out of him

His heart stopped. That was so soon. Surely he had a little more time? An hour at least? He still had to tell him everything.

His change in demeanor must have been noticeable. Al was practically scanning him, analyzing anything that could be wrong.

“Babe, you oka—”

“I lied to you,” Race interrupted.

Albert went silent. His head was cocked slightly, that skeptical frown of his making Race’s heart skip a beat, that frown that meant Al wasn't just some pawn in Race’s wretched game.

“About what?” Albert asked slowly, eyes narrowed. A pang of guilt jabbed Race through the ribs as he remembered Al’s shitty past with relationships. This would be one for the books, Race supposed.

“About me. About who I—well, not about who I am. I lied about what I'm here for,” Race confessed.

“About why your mom left you here,” Al concluded. “What you're saying is that you ain't here to protect the people who buy this apartment, like you’d said to me.”

Race couldn't help but be slightly impressed. Albert’s expression remained rather neutral, his actual anger probably fighting with his infatuation with Race. Al was doing a good job at not letting either side win.

“No, I'm not here for that,” Race sighed. He had to get this over with. Maybe it'd hurt less that way. “When my family first moved to New York, my mom was at a loss as to where to go. Not many people just welcomed immigrants like that, y’know? And then we found this apartment. The landlord charmed my ma’s pants off—he was the first nice person to us in the city. But then he changed.

“He stopped caring about us. He didn't get anyone to fix anything when things were broken, no one cleaned anything. He took advantage of the people in this building, knowing no one could go anywhere else. He just took our money and kept the place in shambles. And so I died from the conditions—that part’s true.

“As I was dying—stay with me here, Albie, we don't have much time—my mother cursed me with haunting this apartment, and….making anyone who walks into the door with intentions to buy...instantly fall in love with me. It keeps me alive—the more people, the longer I get to live.”

Race hugged himself, willing the feeling in his chest to wait. Albert looked paralyzed, with fear or confusion or anger Race couldn't tell.

“So...so none of this was real? I-I don't...I don't love you right now?” Al questioned, eyebrows knit together.

“It's real to an extent,” Race explained, his heart cracking as Albert’s face dropped further. “I just...I gave you the initial infatuation, and then amplified the feelings you caught for me.”

“The feelings I caught?” Al scoffed. “Like you don't have them.” Then Albert froze. “You don't have ‘em, do you. You never did. That was just my stupid head telling me that you did, wasn't it.”

Race shook his head wildly. This was going worse than he thought it would. “No! No, Al, I promise you I do. I fell for you, I didn't mean to, but I—”

“Didn't mean to?” Albert seethed. If he was this worked up, time must really be up soon, Race noted sadly.

“It hurts less that way,” Race decided to admit. “I've been doing this for centuries now. My Ma wants revenge for eternity and I'm the pawn she needs to play it out.”

“This is fucked up,” Al said, tone decisive and expression stiff. “You're fucked up. Get the fuck outta my apartment, right now, you lying sonofa—”

“I’m afraid I can't do that,” Race said, the words coming out of him rather than him actually saying them. He was starting to feel a little distant, but he had to hold on. Just a little longer.

Albert’s eyes narrowed. “You're not physically attached to the place. Your words, not mine. Get out.”

“Can't leave this time,” Race shook his head solemnly.

“Then fuck you. I'll leave,” Albert bit out. Approaching the door, he scoffed, “if I didn't fuck a ghost, then you must be a goddamn demon, fucking prick.”

Race didn't say anything—couldn't, rather, as Al tried to open the door. He jiggled the knob a few times, then looked at Race.

“I didn't lock this,” Al stated. His eyes were wide. “Did you?”

“Not exactly,” Race murmured, looking at his feet. “I can't leave, which means you can't leave, either.”

“Race?” Albert breathed, back flush against the door as fear flashed in his eyes. “What are you saying.”

“I’m running out of time,” Race said instead. “I just...I need you to know that I've loved you. I'm in love with you, I swear on my mother’s soul I am. And I'm sorry you have to pay for it. I'm so, so sorry…” He felt tears slide down his cheeks.

“Race, for what?” Albert demanded. “What's- what’s going to happen?”

“I'm not part of what comes next, okay? I don't want this, I don't...want this…please…”

The tugging was too strong. He'd pushed it off for too long; he was out of time. Race felt his mind slip away from him, and then he was gone, torn away from Albert and leaving him to go through what was next alone.

———

haha what the fuck does THAT mean? read part two to find out!

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[calumbringbackthewatermelonshirt]

Shoot Your Shot [Soccer!Cal AU]

part 3! (find the first to on my blog! I would have them linked but Tumblr is being screwy)

a/n: this one is a bit shorter than the other 2 parts but I need a little filler before I could progress the story (spoiler: its real real sad)

The trip to the mall ended up being a complete disaster, right from the start. As soon as they got there, while Cal was trying to get out of the car, one of his crutches broke. Cal, of course, insisted that it would be fine, not to take him home, that they could just borrow a wheel chair or something. So they went out and tried to find one, taking almost half an hour to do so. When they finally did, the wheels squeaked and were rusty so Cal had to be pushed by someone at all time. He of course, preferred Bia, but she was partial to just walk beside Kit instead, often wondering into random stores. Cal had a bit of trouble keeping up with her. He even got a manicure just to be able to sit next her for an extended period of time. It was stupid and pathetic, he knew, but it was his best friend on the line. She barely spoke to him the entire evening, and as soon as they got back to her apartment, she went right back into her office. Cal just sighed and went to his room. What on earth was in that damn office? He got too bored and stressed just sitting in his room so he called Ash.||

Ash picked up Cal at Bia’s house and together they went to a small cafe downtown.

“Ok so, this might sound crazy, but… I think Bia is mad at me. She hasn’t spoken to me in a couple days. Any ideas as to why?” Cal nervously twisted his favorite ring around on his finger. There was some soft music filtering through the speakers, low and beautiful.

Ash almost choked on his sip of coffee. Yeah he knew, but he couldn’t tell Cal. Right? Bia hadn’t said he couldn’t, but it felt wrong. In Ash’s opinion, those two were being completely stupid. To everyone except Cal and Bia (and Cassidy), they were meant to be together. Ash knew that Bia and Cal had been ring shopping, but it was a front so Cal could get her a present for her birthday. Still, their relationship? None of his business.

“Yeah, uh, no idea.” Ash chose to keep his mouth shut and figured a change of subject would help him stop anything from slipping. “So what’s the plan for her birthday? It’s coming up soon, right?”

“After what’s been going on lately, this party will have to be perfect. I mean, I think I already got her the best gift she’ll ever receive.” Cal usually wasn’t great at giving gifts, but he really thought that he had nailed this one. “I’m even planning on taking over the party planning from Sophie. I mean, we both know how big birthdays are for her.”

“Yeah. I just got her that pair of boots she wanted. Your gonna show everyone up, Cal.” Ash shook his head. “What’re you thinking for the party?”

“You know her. Elegant as always. I’m thinking we’ll have it in the art museum downtown. I’m glad you told me about the boots, though. Cassidy was kind of thinking of getting her those.” Cal was off in his own world, barely picking at the muffin in front of him. Cal figured that Sophie, Cassidy and Bia would all go dress shopping together, as a way for them to all bond. The party would be a surprise for Bia, but Cal knew his best friend was always down for shopping, no matter the reason.

“You can’t be serious.” Cal shot Ashton a confused look. Ash sighed and continued to explain, “Those two don’t like each other, and there’s no way that Bia would want her anywhere near her birthday party.”

“Please. They’re super close. How can they not like each other?” Cal knit his eyebrows together and took a sip of his drink. “My best friend and my girlfriend. They’re destined to be close, right?”

Ashton snorted. Clearly, Calum still had a lot to learn about their female counterparts.||

“Hey Bia, I was just about to text- wait, why are you crying? You never cry?” Sophie ushered Bia into her apartment and onto her couch. She was super worried. Sophie loved crying and was never afraid to let her emotion show, but Bia? She almost never let her emotion show, especially not in front of other people. In Sophie’s opinion, it was dumb, but she felt honored that Bia was willing to share them with her.

“I jus-I can-I jus-,” Bia was sobbing so hard, she couldn’t catch her breath. It wasn’t just sobbing either, it was painful. Each tear wrenched deeper and deeper inside her.  All Sophie was doing was watching and it still broke her heart. Seeing her best friend weeping, her best friend that doesn’t do emotions, nonetheless? Something was very wrong. Now she just had to figure what.

“Woah, hey, calm down. Take a deep breath.” Sophie sat next to Bia on the couch and put her arms around the crying girl. “You have to tell me what’s wrong before I can help.”

“I-It-It’s c-Calum.” Bia wiped her eyes on her sleeve, barely able to see through her tears.

“What about him? Surely living with him can’t be THAT bad.”  Sophie knew that Cal was messy and Bia was uptight, but she didn’t see a reason to cry about it.

“No.” Bia practically wailed. “It that stupid Cassidy bitch. She’s making him choose. Her or me.”

“Cassidy’s out of the state for two more days. What do you mean she’s making him choose?” Sophie wasn’t quite following. What on Earth was she rambling about?

“Ash told me. Cassidy is jealous of me and Calum’s relationship. She doesn’t think he can have both of us, so she’s breaking it off with him if he doesn’t break it off with me first. I mean, Cassidy is his future. I can’t take a lifetime of happiness from him. I can’t be that selfish. I can’t, I can’t, I-” Bia could barely breathe. Telling all of the to Sophie, it just drug up all the feelings she thought she was done with.

“Just breathe. Just focus on breathing. I’ll get wine.” Sophie was blown away. She was also going to kill that Cassidy bitch.

“Oh fuck.” Bia breathed. Her head was sunk into her hands, the tears still flowing. “You can’t tell him. You can’t tell anyone. Sophie, promise me. Promise me.”

“Okay. I promise.” Sophie said the words and felt their weight as the came off her tongue. This felt… wrong. Bia and Cal had always been the closest in their friends group, and sure, they had fought. But this? It was a new extreme, a new height they had never been to before. And Sophie wasn’t sure they could come back down from it.

“I can’t make Cal choose. I mean, he took me ring shopping for fuck’s sake. For Cassidy. This, this would break him.” Bia downed her entire glass of wine in one gulp.

“Yeah but… What else can you do?” Sophie refilled Bia’s glass with a small frown. She had never seen Bia drink this much, even when they went out. Still, Sophie figured it would be better if she did it here instead of anywhere else. “It’s pretty much Cal’s decision, right?”

“You don’t understand.” Bia sniffled and took another sip of wine. It was times like these she cursed her ability to hold her alcohol so well. Times when she was just so damn tired of feeling. “I can’t, won’t let Cal go through that. So, I’m making it easy for him. By kicking him out of my life first.”

“Oh, HELL no.” Sophie immediately went into protective friends mode. “Have you lost you damn mind? I mean, you two have been best friends for, like, ever and you want to shut him out over some girl he’s been dating for what, a year and a half? I think the fuck not.”

“Sophie please.” Bia was so, so tired. She couldn’t do this now. “You think this has been easy for me? I don’t even know what a peaceful night’s sleep is like anymore.”

“I just- I think this is bad.” Sophie disagreed with Bia choice, but one look at e the silent tears still streaming down her face, Bia’s eyes rimmed with red, and she knew it wasn’t up the her. “But, I’ll support you. And I won’t tell. Do you want to sleep here tonight?”

Bia shook her head, instead laying her head softly into Sophie’s lap. Maybe she didn’t want to face Calum, but it was her apartment. She couldn’t avoid the inevitable.

_______________________________________________________________________

@daniellesimagines @marshmallowtraver (I believe xxx-calumexcess-xxx also wanted to be tagged but I couldn’t find them :( sorry)

[stopforamoment]

Part Two: True Companion (Series 16, Part 2 of 6)

Series Sixteen: Bastien and Rinda’s Date Night Fluff (6 Parts) Part Two: True Companion (Series 16, Part 2 of 6) My masterlist is at the end of my bio. Please check it out or message me if you have questions or would like to be tagged in anything!

Book: The Royal Romance (After Book Three) Pairing: Bastien Lykel x OC Rinda Parks Word Count: 2,135 Rating: M for Language TRIGGERS: Dealing with the emotions that come as part of the healing process after the death of a spouse. Author’s Note: Obligatory disclaimer that Pixelberry Studios owns the TRR characters and my pocketbook with those darn diamond scenes. OFC with all of her quirks is all mine. My apologies if Tumblr or I do something stupid when I try to post this. The keep reading link shows up on my laptop but not my phone. Ugh. Thank you @asherella-is-a-dork-3 for always being my sounding board! Thank you @cora-nova @silviasutton1989 @bobasheebaby @riseandshinelittleblossom-deact @riseandshinelittleblossom for being my thirsty Bastien friends and for still being a part of the journey! Series Summary: This series is pure, no shame, fluff. I’m posting it Thanksgiving weekend and I have the holiday feels. 😊 Bastien is absolutely perfect—no apologies for how unrealistically perfect he is—and plans a date night for Rinda.

Chapter Summary: Rinda is surprised to hear the song “True Companion” by Marc Cohn when she’s on a date with Bastien. It brings up memories, but also gives her the closure with Jameson that she was still hoping to find.

True Companion

The general assumption is that every girl dreams of her wedding day. Rinda never expected a fancy wedding, but she did have a secret dream of getting married in an English garden with climbing, rambling roses everywhere. Like in the book The Secret Garden. Her other dream, which was more pragmatic, was the song she wanted for her first dance with her husband. Ever since she was in high school she loved the song “True Companion” by Marc Cohn, and she imagined what it would be like to slow dance, gazing into her husband’s eyes. Especially the second verse.

So don't you dare and try to walk away I've got my heart set on our wedding day I've got this vision of a girl in white Made my decision that it's you alright When I take your hand I'll watch my heart set sail I'll take my trembling fingers And I'll lift up your veil Then I'll take you home

That’s where her husband would spin her.

And with wild abandon That’s the part where he would capture her in his arms again, and she would fall back into him, laughing, happy, so in love.

Make love to you just like a true companion That’s when he’d give her a deep, loving kiss in front of friends and family that would make her blush and leave her breathless.

You are my true companion.

She had it all worked out in her head. Jameson was her True Companion, and they were supposed to dance to that song at their wedding, but somehow it never happened. They had a shoestring wedding budget. Friends who promised to help with things that evening were getting drunk in a back room causing more work than they were worth. The “will work for food and beer” DJ was supposed to have a partner, his girlfriend, but they were “on a break” so he spent most of the evening flirting with Rinda’s cousin and getting drunk. He forgot several songs that meant something to Rinda, including her first dance with Jameson as man and wife. When she tried to re-coordinate it with the DJ, she didn’t know where Jameson was. Rinda was wading through guests who were giving their congratulations, trying to say goodnight to her as they left, thanking her for such a lovely evening. She found Jameson in the parking lot talking to people, and she remembered being so upset, trying to yank him away from his friends so they could have their dance. But by then the DJ was playing another song while he slobbered sweet promises into his cousin’s ear, her cousin desperately trying to get away, but her own boyfriend was in a corner getting drunk. It was the stereotypical Wisconsin wedding. You had a meal that gave guests a base for a good night of drinking. Then you drank and danced—maybe throw in the Chicken Dance and a few polkas. Nothing fancy. But by the end of the day you were married, so nothing else mattered. Rinda wasn’t expecting anything fancy. And she was married, so there was nothing to complain about. But she was expecting to dance her favorite song with Jameson. Then at the end of the night, she couldn’t find him anywhere. That’s when Rinda realized their entire wedding party, including the designated driver, had already left without them. Rinda had enough. She slipped out of the wedding hall and started walking home without telling anyone. She had her stubborn pride and she could get herself home, even if she was buzzed, barefoot, and sobbing in a wedding dress. A police officer saw her walking and stopped to help her. One of Jameson’s co-workers. She was so embarrassed and she begged him not to tell Jameson. It was just a long night, she didn’t even have fun at her own wedding, and she was starving because somehow, in the confusion of the night, she was yanked from her meal and never got to finish it. She had to stay in the back seat because the computer took up the front passenger-side seat. So the low point of Rinda’s wedding day was riding in the back of a police car, going through the McDonald’s drive through to get a McChicken value meal with a Coke. She needed him to pay because she didn’t have any money. She didn’t even have her house keys or phone. Even if she got home, she would have been stuck waiting on the porch with no way to contact anyone. The officer pulled into a parking spot and let Rinda out of the car, and they sat on the curb in the parking lot. He let her cry into her McChicken as she admitted she knew she was being so immature. She knew she had a good man and they’d have a great marriage. But the day ended so horribly awful. The officer let her ramble, but he also asked her questions about the day. Well, before the dance it had been fun. How was the actual wedding? The ceremony was beautiful. Watching Jameson’s face as I walked down the aisle was more emotional than I could have realized. Were there some friends and family she hadn’t seen in awhile? How was that? Yes, and it was so amazing, seeing so many friends and family show up for our day, supporting us, showing us love. And really, everyone else did have a good time. So everyone was getting drunk? Yes. You know this is Wisconsin, right? Yes. You said you can’t find Jameson. Do you think he just ran off and left you? No. He saw Rinda squirm uncomfortably, knowing Jameson was probably wondering the same thing right now, except he would be right. She did run off and leave him. Then the officer reminded Rinda that the wedding was just one day. It was what happened every day after that, that made the marriage. He drove her back to the wedding hall and Jameson was anxiously looking for her. He saw she left everything behind and he had no way of contacting her. He was frantic with worry. Somehow the officer managed to make it look like he was pulling off a prank with Rinda, pretending to haul her off to jail for bad behavior. He kept his promise and never told Jameson the truth—that he was actually returning Jameson’s runaway bride. The officer even put Rinda in handcuffs, and everyone who was still there laughed because Jameson had his own handcuff key on his key ring to free her. Maybe. If she behaved. Everyone thought it was so funny that a police officer came, and it was a story that was retold throughout the years. And every time it was told, Rinda would share a secret smile with the officer who bought her a McChicken and brought her back to her senses—and her own wedding reception. When Rinda stepped back into the wedding dance hall that evening she saw her aunts and uncles tearing down the decorations and cleaning everything up. Rinda and Jameson wanted to stay and help, but her family shooed them out with cheeky grins and winks. And of course someone would be able to give them a ride home. Now get home and start making babies. Rinda had started weeping. She was humbled by the generosity of her family, and she couldn’t believe she started walking home from her own wedding. What kind of spoiled bitch was she? Some of Rinda’s uncles were shaking Jameson’s hand and they were laughing, reminding him of what they said. Rinda asked what that was about, but Jameson wasn’t able to tell her until years later.

When the years have done irreparable harm I can see us walking slowly arm in arm Just like that couple on the corner do, 'cause Girl I will always be in love with you When I look in your eyes I'll still see that spark Until the shadows fall Until the room grows dark At the end of the night, on their wedding day, Jameson was talking to Rinda’s favorite uncle, drunkenly blubbering about his worries. A few of her uncles quickly took Jameson into one of the back rooms so he wouldn’t be seen. Then he poured his heart out and they drank with him and reassured him. Of course Rinda loved him and they’d have a wonderful life. Yes, he was good enough for her and he’d be an amazing husband. And yes, they would always do what they could for them. Yes, of course they would always be there for Rinda. Then her uncles realized what Jameson was too afraid to say. Yes, they would promise to take care of Rinda and their children, no matter what. And no, don’t even talk like that. They would have a long and happy life together. They would grow old together and play with their grandchildren. Now they needed to get Jameson back out there. Rinda was probably worried about where he was. He didn’t want her to think he just left her to fend for herself, right?

Then when I leave this Earth I'll be with the angels standin' I'll be out there waiting for my true companion Just for my true companion True companion Rinda was thinking about an item to check off her wedding dream list. Jameson was thinking about the number of police officers who were killed in the line of duty that year. Rinda was so worried about not dancing to that song. Jameson was so worried that they’d never have a chance to live a full lifetime together and fulfill the final verse of that song. And that was why Rinda was now superstitious of that song. There was a reason they never danced to it at their wedding. It just wasn’t meant to be because the universe knew Jameson would die less than eleven years later. There was no verse three for them and even though she still loved that song, she was also afraid of it. And now she was hearing that song again, played by street musicians. She was in a foreign country on a beautiful, starry evening, almost two years since Jameson’s death. It was a string of coincidences, but Rinda knew everything happens for a reason and it will be okay, even if it doesn’t feel like it ever will be again. She needed to. That belief was one of the things that got her through that first year and a half after his death. She wasn’t expecting to hear that song. It truly shook her, and she needed time to process those emotions and memories that she had kept tucked away since her wedding night. But now she needed to be done. It was a lifetime of memories with Jameson, albeit short, and she needed to get back to the present where Bastien was patiently waiting for her with that understanding look in his eyes. But there was something else. The thing that had been loose inside of Rinda found its new place. It was Jameson’s memory and she finally knew, with absolute certainty, that it was okay to move on. Jameson was giving her his blessing. And now, that song was just another cliché love song. It was nothing to be afraid of, nothing to regret. Rinda was finally able to look into Bastien’s eyes. “Bastien, I used to love this song. It’s about a man finding his True Companion, and the verses go from a man searching for her and finding her, then marrying her, and then growing old with her. I always thought it was so romantic, and I wanted to dance to it with Jameson at our wedding but it was a crazy night and it never happened. That always bothered me, because I really wanted that part to be perfect. You know, like a best man giving a good speech.” Her eyes had a mischievous spark as she reminded Bastien of how much Katie Rys hated the speech he didn’t give at her and Leo’s wedding. But now she was giving her habitual shrug, trying to physically shake off that memory. “I felt like it wasn’t meant to be, that we never had that final verse of growing old together. But that’s okay. It’s surreal that I’m in Cordonia, with you, and this song is being played right now. But . . . Bastien. I know for sure Jameson is okay with me putting away his picture. With me not being there to visit his grave on his birthday or our anniversary. It’s . . . okay that I’ve moved on, and he’s happy for us.” Rinda nodded to herself a few times, reassuring herself, before finally looking into Bastien’s eyes.

[senfinity]

HELLO!

I have decided that I am going to come back to senfinity~ I know I technically already said this two weeks ago but me being me has to, of course, post a long text post in <small> font highlighting several points because honestly would it really be Tanya if she didn’t write an essay about every minuscule thing? Nope! So with that being said, the rest is going to go under a read more because I am fully aware most people don’t care and I don’t want to clog your dash. But otherwise you can click on (I’ll bold the main points for if you do care but also don’t wanna read a whole post), and also there is another piece of info right at the end so you can also just skip to that //nods//

I just want to warn everyone that I have a tendency to ramble and you can blame that on me having Mercury in the first house. I’ve also been stuck to the teeny tiny constraints of Twitter for much too long so I am just letting loose, clearly. But anywho!

In my goodbye post I said that Tumblr wasn’t a good place for me anymore because it had made me condescending, bitter, and unhappy, and that’s why I left in the first place and said that I most likely wasn’t going to come back. I remember when I posted my hiatus message before the goodbye post, I honest to goodness cried a wee bit because this really was my happy place and where I could express myself about Sehun the most, so having to leave it was a struggle and I remember being so weak that just the day after I wanted to return ;; But I managed to somehow stay off for 9 months so I think we should all be proud because I truly lack self control and that is a feat.

But after being off senfinity for a while and even attempting to start anew with a new blog and then Twitter, I realized a few things and that is what has led me to my eventual return!

Insecurities had resurfaced/were brought to light: I decided to make a new blog to be able to do what I love (talk about Sehun) while also not be associated with the negativity I attached to senfinity. However after the first few days of being on the new blog, I started to feel alone and isolated. Having senfinity and having been on there for so long and in a sense establishing myself in my own comfortable space, suddenly being completely out of it just felt really isolating, as if I had lost a big part of me. I started feeling really small, useless, and that nothing I said or did mattered. This sounds really dramatic, but I think it’s because I in general feel really isolated and have no idea what my identity is, but through senfinity I was able to belong somewhere and have at least one piece of my identity fixed, so I never used to think about these insecurities as much. So when I was out of that, I guess it made those resurface and taint everything to the point where I just couldn’t go on my new blog. But I couldn’t go on senfinity either because I just said I was going to leave - I can’t just come back a few days later. So all in all it just felt really isolating and lonely and that I couldn’t really go anywhere and it was making me sad.

I felt as if I had no voice: In a similar vein, now that I was isolated and had nowhere to really ‘be’ in a sense, I started feeling like I had no voice. As we all know I talk a lot about Sehun and that was what I considered one of my main voices because he’s a really big part of me. But now that I didn’t have senfinity which was my main platform for that voice, and I felt too isolated and alone on my new blog, my voice just felt like it was completely drowned out and eventually extinguished. Considering what a big part of me that voice was, having it gone like that was really emptying somehow and it just ended up making me more sad.

Tried too hard to gain those back to the point where it ruined the experience on Twitter: Because of me now not having anywhere to say or do anything, I decided to use my Twitter that was initially for Sehun updates as a new senfinity in a sense. It was fine initially, but after a while the same feelings that I got on my new blog were starting to take over on Twitter, too - only this time even worse. Every time I saw a Sehun stan or a post about Sehun, I started feeling really insecure because that’s something I wish I could do and used to be able to do but couldn’t anymore. It made my anxiety flare up because those insecurities were triggered again, and because of that, I started feeling like I had to do or say something to re-establish myself and my voice to get rid of that anxiety/insecurity and it just really began to ruin the whole experience because I was too busy focusing on doing something that would have use/impact instead of just enjoying being on a new account. Not to mention because of that insecurity and anxiety, I started growing this bitterness towards everything (mainly Sehun stans lmao), and needless to say it was exhausting and unenjoyable being on Twitter.

Stanning Sehun was no longer selfless: One of the things that was so special about Sehun in me loving him was that I was really selfless about it. I’m selfish for everything; 95% of the things I do is for a selfish ulterior motive, and if something doesn’t satisfy that, then I drop it (be it friendships or hobbies or anything) because I want to protect myself. That made me sound really evil lmao I assure I am not evil, though >:[ But either way. Loving Sehun though was the complete opposite of that. I just loved him for him, and I never once thought about myself or did anything for him in regards to benefiting myself; it was always just about him, for him, and because of him. I didn’t love and support him because he made me happy, I just simply loved him and it so happened that loving him made me happy. However because of the previous three points, that aspect started to disappear as well. On my Twitter I started focusing too much on myself - desperately trying to get my voice back and having an identity again, feeling annoyed when I failed each time, but trying again and again because I kept getting anxiety. And I feel horrible to admit this but I started, in a sense, using Sehun for a selfish purpose - to gain those back. I remember I was about to write a tweet talking about how loving Sehun was a selfless thing for me, but as I was writing it I realized that it wasn’t like that at all anymore. As soon as that realization hit me, I got so so sad because Sehun is my one good thing and he was special from everything else and here I was managing to taint it, to make him just like everything else, to make it something that was no longer enjoyable. I managed to ruin that one good thing, the only good thing I have, and it just made me feel so stretched thin and exhausted.

Wanted to leave: Because of that, I started even considering that - now that I don’t have senfinity, now that I can’t use my new blog, now that Twitter is unenjoyable, now that I’ve tainted my support for Sehun with selfish reasons, now that I just feel anxious and insecure at all these little things that shouldn’t be bothering me at all, now that this is no longer something that is good for me - I should just take a break from it all. I literally considered taking a break from Sehun, the one thing that has quite literally kept me alive for some years, so you can just imagine how bad it got that I even got to that point. I of course never did that because I really just cannot ever in my wildest dreams leave Sehun, but now that I had exhausted all avenues and tainted that one good thing, I just felt so sad and empty and didn’t know what to do. I no longer had a happy thing or a safe place and with my already dreary and dark thoughts, it just was not a good thing at all. I just ended up making Twitter exactly what Tumblr was to me previously and the reason I left Tumblr for, so I just got annoyed at myself for managing to ruin everything.

On a lighter note - the teeny tiny char limit on Twitter: As is extremely evident from this post and from my old tags, I talk a lot and having had the ability to write long text  posts and have 500-word-limit tags at my disposal was a blessing because I have a lot of thoughts, and for Sehun I have a lot of feelings, and I really just need to get them all out. However, Twitter with it’s previously 140char and now 280char limit, it was a struggle. Even if I had the ability to write threads, having to split up my thoughts into various tidbits and even then not even whole thoughts, just wasn’t the same. I had to squish all those expansive thoughts and feelings I had into this extremely tiny space, and it was too hard for me and became an annoyance to say anything at all.

I need to express myself but I had no room to, and because of that I started feeling unlike myself, unhappy, and empty: I am someone who genuinely needs to express herself and express herself well. For me, my feelings don’t feel completely real or valid or tangible unless I’m able to lay them out, hence why this post is this long already, because it’s a way for me to make sense of it all and to validate them. However there is really no room for me on Twitter to express my bigger, more significant thoughts, and so I started to feel really suppressed. I still tried of course, because I needed some release even if it was small, however nothing I said ever felt right or like myself, and I was never happy with anything I said. It didn’t feel representative of me and my feelings, and for someone who needs that in order to feel comfortable with them, it was really sad. All my real thoughts were stuck in my head and having been unable to say anything for what is now almost 9 months, it was all knotted and a mess and I couldn’t make sense of them at all. It was even getting harder for me to actually access my feelings for Sehun because they were all knotted up like that, and because of that I started to feel extremely empty. I even started getting anxious to say anything at all because I knew it wouldn’t come out right and I knew it wouldn’t make me happy but I still had to say something, and all of those feelings was making it hard to say anything at all, which ended up being a big cycle.

senfinity really was a part of my happiness: I didn’t realize just how important this aspect of my life was until now, because for the last few months I’ve felt especially empty and drained and have gotten into really bad depressive moods. From the latter half of 2016 to until I left senfinity, it was probably the happiest (or as happy as I can feel) I’ve been because I had dropped out of engineering and was in a program I liked, and I was in such a content mood. I didn’t realize until a few months after me leaving senfinity that having this blog played a really huge role in keeping me in a good head space and hence in a good mood because I was doing something I genuinely liked and found happiness in. Because of no longer being in a good head space and no longer having that one thing that brought me a genuine joy to do, I started losing interest in basically... everything... because I wasn’t in a good place and didn’t have anything to really keep me afloat. I know this all sounds dramatic and dependent, but as someone who doesn’t really know who she is, what direction she wants to go on, what she can do, what she wants to do, and so on, having at least senfinity - which had a part of my identity, was something I loved to do, was something that made me feel connected to Sehun, and so on - was something that was really helpful and was the base block for allowing myself to do other things. So taking that away stripped me of that positive aspect of my life and made everything feel cloudy again because there was no longer that bit of sunshine.

People from Tumblr ended up going to Twitter: Not to sound petty and vindictive towards some other blogs, but there were some blogs on here that had fed into some of my other insecurities (such as not being enough or that what I said didn’t matter which was because of a different set of feelings that still belonged under feeling isolated, but we shall not get into that!) and/or just in general bugged me, and they had made being on here less fun back when I was already feeling a load of negative feelings towards this site. Being on Twitter for a while was great because I at least didn’t have to see some of them, but then soon some of those exact blogs started migrating over to Twitter and now I had to see them there, too. With all my other anxieties and insecurities coming to surface and really tainting my time on Twitter, having these blogs that did that to me on Tumblr now on Twitter too to add on top of that, was really unpleasant.

The feelings I associated with Tumblr have now dissolved/I know what to stay away from: While there are still aspects of Tumblr that I don’t like all that much, the things that had made it so negative for me to be on here before either don’t exist anymore or I had realized how small in scale they were in comparison to whatever I was now feeling. Not to mention that because I had tried Tumblr, leaving Tumblr, making a new Tumblr, then tried Twitter, I had gone through all the options that I could and in the end senfinity was the least taxing and upsetting of them all. On top of that, now that I exhausted all those options and found that senfinity isn’t as bad and because now I know how much I need to have my own place to express myself, I really want to be able to make and keep Tumblr my happy place again because this really is where it all started and where my whole heart for Sehun has been laid out, and it was a little home for my heart and I want to come back. It’s where I can be myself the most and do what I love the most and all those other things that have now arose because of my leaving can now settle back down and restore a balance so I can stop being bogged down by such tiny, minuscule things in the grand scale of it all, and hopefully find my focus, motivation, and happiness again, not just for this but a gateway for everything else, too. Because I know what made being on here so annoying before, and because I know that this is my safe place, I will know what to avoid to ensure that it stays that way.

As you can see, a lot of stuff has happened to my mental state and experience in the time I’ve been gone. I admit that it all sounds really dramatic and quite lame because I’m sure people think that little things like blogs and Twitter and tags shouldn’t affect a person this much. Sadly this is me, and because of loads of other personal things and because I honest to goodness live in my head where there’s too much going on that for the most part are negative, little things like these truly have a decently huge effect on me because it tugs at a multitude of the thoughts living in my head.

But now that I've finally figured it all out, I realized that coming back to senfinity really is the best thing for me to do. I’m excited because this really is my own little place. I’m excited to stop being sad over everything and anxious because of useless things and to be able to move tf on and find a happiness not only here but elsewhere as well. And most of all!! I'm excited to finally be able to talk about Sehun comfortably and to my heart’s content again because I am overflowing with so much love for him and my words were always the one thing that I felt was a way to return that sunshine, warmth, and love he gave to me back to him.

Extra piece of info: With all that said, I am still going to be using my Twitter account to talk about other things like random tiny thoughts or tidbits of my life or things I feel I can’t say or don’t want to say on Tumblr. If anyone wants to know what my Twitter account is, you can send me a DM or a message off anon along with your Twitter account and I can let you know! My account is on private right now for some reasons so that's why I’ll need to know who is requesting a follow~ A warning, though: I am quite bitter on there about things regarding fandom and Sehun and my tone will be a lot more blunt not only because there’s not much room to fluff things out but because well... I am quite a bitter person alskdf. senfinity will be a place where I keep things positive and happy for me and everyone who follows me, unless I have something I really want to say that requires my tags or a text post, and so that is why all my little bitternesses and pettiness will be kept to my Twitter account. Not to mention Tumblr quite frankly can’t handle certain things so... If you’re curious what that side of me is like then you can follow me on there~ Don’t be surprised or think I’m two-faced, though orz. The way I talk and feel and the things I say on here are still 100% genuine and 100% me, so while my tone on there will be a 180 from mine on here, it's still all me. Seriously, though, my solo stan side shows a lot more on my Twitter and I am very loud about only caring about Sehun on there and anything that affects him so I hope no one who does end up following me on there holds that against me or thinks I’m some kind of ass. This has been a warning...

The End

[sirtadcooper]

Fandom Tag Meme

I was tagged by @lullapiee! I ❤ you! :)

1. Your current OTP(s)/OT3(s)/OTX(s):

I’m currently obsessed with the Twelfth Doctor & Clara! While I know with all of my heart that they loved each other deeply, whether or not they actually did It™ is left up to interpretation, and I prefer to think that they did not. They just have a very deep emotional connection. They inspire each other to be better. One couldn’t knowingly live without the other. (Let me live in my denial.)

I’m also enjoying looking back over series 10 for all of the great moments between the Doctor and Bill, and the Doctor and Nardole. They were so much fun together! I would have loved another series with the three of them.

While watching The Hour recently, I became obsessed with Randall and Lix. Oh, my precious babies. I even found an amazing fic about them which I enjoyed very much (this one).

2. A pairing you initially didn’t consider but someone changed your mind (bonus points: who was that person).

I can’t really think of anything for which the seeds weren’t already there, but @lullapiee is an enabler of my feels for Victoria and Melbourne.

3. A pairing you used to love, but it all fell apart for you.

I used to really like Ten & Rose, but now I just find the whole romantic aspect of it a bit embarrassing. Maybe it’s because of what happened with Martha as a result. I still enjoy them as friends, though.

4. Have you added anything cracky/hilarious to your fandom, if so, what?

Well, I’ve tried a few times! This was this cracky Cyberman gifset that I put a lot of work into but no one really found all that funny. There were also a couple of things I made for my friend’s birthday a few years ago (this and this).

I’ve also written some funny fanfics. My favourites for Doctor Who include: Healing Gifts, Smiley-Face, and Concentrate, and there are some older ones from the days of Eleven and the Ponds too. I started off my writing with fun stuff so there’s plenty of Sherlock and Supernatural too. I’ve also written some funs for my favourite British detectives which can be found on my FanFiction.Net profile as well. I would love to write more fun stuff but writing is hard.

5. What’s the longest you’ve ever been in a fandom?

Primeval is my oldest fandom. I started watching at the start of series 2 in January 2008. I’ve only just looked it up - I thought it was 2007! Whoops. Anyway, wee me at the time went the whole hog with fanfics, fanvids, and fanart even though I had no idea that was what I was doing at the time. It seems I was born for this.

6. Do you remember your first OTP, if so who was in it?

I think it was Connor and Abby from Primeval.

7. Name a fandom you didn’t care/think about until you saw it all over Tumblr.

I watched Parks and Recreation because of Tumblr. It was a good choice! Cheers, Tumblr!

8. Say something genuinely nice about a character who isn’t one of your faves (chars you’re neutral on are fair game, as are chars you dislike).

I think I’ll have to agree with @lullapiee here - while Danny was not my favourite character, at least he was a strong one. You knew what his reaction would be to any given situation. He did give Clara some really great advice during the series as well, and certainly didn’t deserve what happened to him. I just wish he and the Doctor had been a bit nicer to each other.

9. Name three things you wish you saw more of in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).

Less hate directed at the showrunners, acceptance that people will have differing points of view on characters, ships and stories. More general niceness.

10. Choose a song at random; which ship or character does it remind you of?

Saturn by Sleeping at Last always makes me think of the Doctor and Clara.

11. A pairing you ship that you don’t think anyone else ships.

I’m very mainstream in this regard, really. I can’t think of any!

12. Your most scandalous headcanon for your current OTP(s)/OT3(s)/OTX(s).

I am the single worst person you could ask this to, you know. Um... nope. Nothing. Sorry.

13. Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending, about anything at all (gender identity, sexual or romantic orientation, extended family, sexual preferences like top/bottom/switch, relationship with poetry, seriously anything)?

I don’t tend to think much about this sort of thing, but I like to believe, whether it’s true or not, that that mysterious lady in The End of Time was the Doctor’s mother. Because it’s a nice thought... well, actually, it’s not all that nice. He does end up sending her back into the Time War... actually this is a horrible thought.

14. 5 favorite characters from 5 different fandoms.

The Twelfth Doctor (Doctor Who), Castiel (Supernatural), Fred Thursday (Endeavour), Ron Swanson (Parks and Recreation) and Miranda (Miranda).

15. 3 OTPs from 3 different fandoms.

Amy & Rory (Doctor Who), Tony & Pepper (Marvel), Lois & Clark (Smallville or anywhere, really).

16. 5 favorite ships.

The TARDIS, The Black Pearl, The Enterprise NCC-1701 - there are probably more but those are my favourites.

17. Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go (prompts optional but encouraged).

I love the level of imagination and creativity on this site but one thing I simply cannot stand is fast gifs. A gif appears faster anyway the longer you stare at it as your brain learns the sequence of the frames. If you stare at a gif that’s already moving at a fair lick you are going to get whiplash! Slow them down, please. The number of times I’ve had to not reblog a perfectly coloured, well put together gifset because the gifs were too fast is very sad. I’m sure I’m not the only one with this opinion either.

I’m going to tag: @amelias-sunflowers, @tonvstarkly, @rowofstars, @pinkfloralcake and @impossiblepond if you’d like to have a go. :)