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haloburns · 3 months

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had some free time to think today and i just. got really sad about the life i used to think i was going to have before i became disabled

(whoops this turned into a Journal Entry, so im putting it beneath a read more sry lmao)

like. i had plans to travel europe and work in cafes and stay out too late in clubs with my new friends and then stumble in to open the cafe with my clothes from the night before and smeared makeup. and like, maybe thats a weird dream to have, but id spent so long in this tiny little box in my hometown (kinda. its complicated bc ive lived where i am now longer than the place i was born, but my birthplace will always be my hometown, to me.) so i was reaching for experiences so drastically different from the life id known.

but then i went to college out of state. 10h from home, almost in canada. and i did spend a good chunk of my first two years partying exactly like i described: work until 8/9, go home eat something fatty and greasy, change into smth slutty and cool, and go out with my friends and stay out until the wee hours, making out and dancing with whoever asked. two one night stands came of it, both embarrassing for different reasons (thats a whole different post lmao but i dont regret either, actually) but i had so much fun. i felt free. like i could truly be myself for the first time in my life

and then i became disabled.

(caveat: ive probably been disabled my whole life, but i simply. never noticed. i didnt know it wasnt normal to be in pain, because i didnt know what 'pain-free' meant. it wasnt until i started making diasbled and crippled friends that they made me realize that living at a 4/5 on the pain scale All The Time is in fact not normal)

i got a terrible cold my first thanksgiving. spent the entire break on the couch in the lounge sniffling and coughing, trash can, tissues, hand sanitizer, and lotion all right next to me because i was DETERMINED not to get anyone sick (context: this was pre covid. wearing masks was like. not a thought.) despite everyone having gone home/away for the break. i got my first (and only) case of viral pink eye. i had bronchitis until april. that same january, while i still had bronchitis, my knees suddenly swelled up so badly i couldnt move for two days. my knees have ached almost daily since then.

from there, it was simply a cascade failure of things. fingers and wrist hurt constantly, no matter what i did or what brace i wore. (hint: i ended up having de quervaines tenosynovitis and had to have surgery bc it went untreated for 5+ years) back was constantly cramping. feet hurt after only a four hour shift. stairs became impossible. i was constantly exhausted, no matter what i did.

then, in december 2020, i was home like everyone else, and i was working in my mom's office full time while also attending classes full time remotely (like everyone else). my mom took a week off. finals week. she left me in charge, since i was the second most senior person in the office with my roughly two years experience. my half sister was demanding to know why our other sister wouldnt talk to her after she borrowed our car to go see our estranged father. again. (we gave her permission to borrow the car, but it still hurt). the exhaustion was getting worse and worse until thursday of that week. my coworker was threatening to call my mom to come pick me up because i couldnt think, could barely talk, and i was nodding off at my desk. and then my half sister called out of nowhere and wanted to talk. and i was so tired, so done with EVERYTHING, i let her have it. that took the last bit of my energy and i told my coworker to call my mom.

i spent a week in bed with the worst pain in my life. my entire body ACHED. my cat couldnt lay on me because it felt like i was being crushed to death my a bed of needles. my elbow swelled up so badly i could hardly move it. i could barely sit up to eat or stand to go pee. i slept SO MUCH.

i returned to work maybe a week or two after. i maybe finished my classes but i hoenstly dont remember. i moved back up to school in jan/feb with covid restrictions so i could finish my senior year on campus. i couldnt walk to the mail room and back without needing a nap. i couldnt go to starbucks and bring back two coffees without needing a break in the middle of my walk. i went to the health services because something wasnt right.

after some tests and lots of arguing with some shitty doctors and PTs, the light of my life, dr k diagnosed me with chronic fatigue. i finally had an answer for all my issues.

i thought that was it.

that summer, june/july 2021, i developed postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome and fought to get it taken seriously. two er trips with elevated heart rate, brain fog, and high bp, and it took the second trip to have them take me SERIOUSLY and get a referral. the cardiologist told me i was fat and just needed to exercise more, the three heart monitors don't show stereotypical tachycardic events, so im just experiencing elevated heart rates. i was fine. finally convince him to put me on propranolol, the "as needed" dose, and fuck off when he says he wants to work me off them and get me exercising.

i found a doctor who took me seriously and listened when i said "i have x problem. i would like a solution." and gave me referral after referral after referral, chasing more and more diagnoses. she never once made me feel insane for my symptoms, never made me feel unheard, and she never failed to make me cry in relief every time i went to see her and didnt have to fight for just an ounce of care.

since then, ive been diagnosed with moderate asthma, psoriasis, fibromyalgia, and potentially (almost assuredly) hypermobile ehlers-danlos syndrome. (for those of you keeping track, thats six diagnoses in four years) dr m, my savior, retired this year, and ive found a new doctor im hoping i can teach to treat me with the same care and respect. shes already given me a second referral to gastroenterology for my stomach issues (which... might just be from too much ibuprofen... :) rip me) and neurology bc my migraines that have crippled me for upwards of a month before are no longer being managed by my meds and i need something more specific before i start new meds. she said shed find me a doctor to dx heds, bc shes still new and wasnt comfortable with the tests required and didnt want to do it wrong, which endears her to me just a little more

but all of ^^^ that is just a big winding way to say that my life has changed a LOT since i graduated high school. i can no longer stand for long periods of time. i cant lift more than maybe 5-10lbs, and i certainly cant carry it for any significant length of time. i get migraines so easily. my joints slip out of place if i step wrong. i cant go out one night and expect to be up and at'em early the next day. i have to weigh my energy vs what i want to get done vs what needs to get done, and most days, nothing gets done at all.

and sometimes, usually when i get a new diagnosis and a new complication to my life, i mourn the life i used to dream about for myself. i mourn the things ive had to lose out on because my reality has changed so drastically. i cant go to amusement parks anymore. i cant go to standing-room-only concerts. i cant go to the grocery by myself. and you can forget doing things like wandering through the mall to kill time or going for a leisurely walk around the park.

being disabled is not the worst thing to happen to me, and i dont think im damaged or broken or anything like that. despite all the pain and complications and accomodations i have and need, i love myself the way i am. after all, i am now the funniest fucking person in ANY room. i dont think i want it back, because i love the life i have now (meaningful volunteer work, a dnd group i love, and a partner i thank the stars for regularly). but sometimes, its hard not to mourn the life i thought id have

#halo talks #halo rambles #unintentional journal entry apparently #ive been thinking about this for a long while i just havent gotten it all out before #this probably makes 0 sense i wrote it stream of consciousness and am Not Editing it lmao #if u read this ily

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cielospeaks · 2 years

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cyl year 7! deets under cut

heres hoping that the winners are at least one person i like. rob (either) would be ideal, esp if they arent possessed lol. i would say corn but recently the corns have just been enforcing the gender route split which i think is really bland bc the whole point of the game is to choose your own route/ect. but yea. out of all the most popular ones theyre the only one id be really interested in

and for the actual cyl pics! elm: goodest boy needs his base version pls! like ok his new years art like i predicted is way better but i just want him. he actually didnt get screwed over writingwise (he didnt get. anything. writingwise but still. thats a step up) so even more reason to want him

renault: the last member of the treble trouble five! please add him soon! i think hes really fascinating in the story of 7, being a man on a redemption arc from like. a really bad path, which you like never see in the fe series (but hey. maybe mauvier or whatever? tbh he gives me hendrik vibes a little). hes fascinating in the story and his supports are a wide range of emotions, from being comical like in bartre’s to being depressing in most of the others. i dont fucking give a darn abt the main villain of 7 but if they add him theyd better add renault too (or alternatively id also take fallen renault when he was still on life essence juice)

amalda: the unofficial sixth ranger of tt5! i also want her to be added soon but idk if ever soon (since shes a route split tho maybe she could be a ghb! please gosh). like renault i think shes really interesting for a character standpoint, shes one of the people who opposed fucking kidnapping children and actually rescued children (and not after helping to kidnap and kill them shaking my head at last years 4 banner specifically), but harbors a guilty conscience bc of the blood she’s spilled as a soldier, and is torn emotionally of whether to stay loyal to friege or not. tbh she and renault have a lot of same energy and i love them both.

jeritza: pre timeskip i am begging. hes just really cool before it, and would make a great ghb (tho thats probably unlikely). just let him keep the mask i am foaming at the mouth. i didnt really care for how he was treated after the timeskip and tbh in general, but i still like his character even tho i have issues w the canon writing. he deserves better tldr

ilios: this year was rally 5 bc i love them and want them added! ilios is fun, and like amalda i feel like he has a good chance to be ghb material (like. if they add fred or whatever his name is? olwen’s friend? they could have ghb of him), he even has a support/conversation/thingy with karin itd be great. (honestly their banter was funny! tho i want that sword guy from 5 too bc i liked the dynamic between him and her lol. and i want halvan too, and dagdar) but yea ilios! hes a fun character, i have noticed i have a soft spot for guys with sticks up their butts lol. i agree w karin tho his obsession w his name and stiff personality is fun to tease

shannam: the funniest boy! the only person in the world who it is ok to call a sussy baka lol. his entire concept of a character is so funny, hes essentially a con man impersonating the prince but hes kind of an idiot and a little flaky. and gosh do i love me a good con man. his friendship w homeros is fun, and oh gosh when mareeta referenced him in her crit line i was like -pointing guy meme- please come home.

homer: chaotic music boy hours! gosh i think he did well last year i would love for him to be added. hes canonically a tome but they could make him a musician dancer like nils that would be fun! (unlikely but fun). hes just the hornyman(tm) but has a laser focus for horny, except the person he tries to be horny with i think punches him and cries bc hes so pathetic so he joins your party. hes a cool grey morality character and i dig that so much. plus his friendship w shannam is very good too. i swear if we got the boys(tm) id cry happy tears (w ghb ilios! that would be the dream lol. amalda ig would have to be gacha cries)

other characters id want to give ones to would be idunn (santa or new years pls), ursula (rearmed please!), touma and yashiro (tms part 2 please!!), iuchar, iuchabra, and arion from 4 (and maybe ishtore and liza too if theyre included. gosh they make me so emo not gonna lie. both bc what happens to them and how they get treated in canon). i dont remember if flech was included but gosh she deserved better too id give her one if i could. not to even get started on characters id just like to see included, like linoan, murdock, elrean, dozla, ect.

#let me just say the art for 5 is so pretty. i really dig the spritework #tho i would dig even more them adding the characters wink wink #gameblogging #well we will see the result soon #im hoping for some things but mostly just hoping 17 isnt bad. pls dont heck up #i really want to like these characters and world esp after hating 16's plot and world so much

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hearties-circus · 2 years

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Went out to lunch with family again, this time with the addition of some great aunties and my 2nd cousin

#gamer txt.#i have a friends birthday party tmrw but also my cousins 30th tmrw aswell #oddly enough they have tge same name too #but uh. i know my friends got a big hall booked out n stuff but. i really dont really wanna go #like im fine going out again for dinner for my cousins birthday tmrw but im not really fine going out for my friends bday tmrw #maybe its just cause the dinner would be at normal dinner times but my friends party is from half 6 to half 9 #or maybe bc id have to stay with a friend after the party bc my mum would be asleep by 7 #idk i just dont want to go to my friends birthday and i feel kinda shit about it #i know i can use my cousins bday as an excuse and i really do want to see her bc its been nearly a year but i feel bad snubbing a friend

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jakesimfromstatefarm · 4 years

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not jealous | jake sim

summary: jake sim is not a jealous person. at least that's what he tells himself. so why does he find himself going through your phone when a certain "bluejay park" decides to text you?

pairing: jake sim x y/n [ft. mentions of jay park]

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: angst, cursing (very minimal), one slightly suggestive sentence, jake being cute, some more angst lol, slightly cheesy bc jake’s just too cute ugh

wc: 3.8k

a/n: ok i loved writing this, which is why i went on to almost 4k words LOL oops. but anyways, i love jake a little too much and this type of scenario has been running around in my head for a while now so i decided to put it into words. also i may have created this blog just so i could post this somewhere LMAO anyways yeah this was my first fic so hope you guys enjoyyyy <3

Jake Sim is not a jealous person.

At least that's what he tells himself. To be fair, in his past relationships, he never showed any jealously. Then again, he doesn't know if he can call those relationships, "relationships". Does a fifth grade relationship with a girl who he was once dared to kiss during a game of Truth or Dare in the basement of a classmate's house during their 11th birthday party count? He doesn't remember being jealous when the same girl was later dared to kiss his classmate, Sunghoon. (Funny enough, that's how the two boys came to be best friends 'til this day, but that's a story for another time.)

But really, Jake doesn't think jealously is one of his traits, even if he's now almost 20 years old without any experience with love other than his current relationship with you and that short-lived romance in the fifth grade. (What was her name again? Jake would have to ask Sunghoon later.)

So he doesn't know what clicked in that brain of his that lead him to this current situation he was in. He doesn't know why he felt a little spark of anger in him when your phone, which you left right next to him on the couch while you went to take a shower, kept buzzing with texts from "bluejay park". He doesn't know why he couldn't kept his eyes distracted from the messages, although your phone was constantly lighting up because whatever it was Jay had to say to you, he would not shut up about it. He doesn't know why he questioned what your relationship with Jay was for a split second.

In fact, you're close with all of Jake's friends. That's one of his favorite things about you, you get along so well with all his friends you might as well replace Jake himself in the friend group. So he doesn't know what tells him to take a little glance at your phone—at the messages.

But he finds himself doing it anyways.

Hearing that the water in the shower was still running (you were always the type to take long showers), he quickly grabs your phone and scrolls through the lock screen just to find that he couldn't even read the messages since you had your notifications set so no one could read them unless the phone was unlocked (darn you and your settings!) Thankfully, Jake knew your passcode––and you knew his too––or he thought he did. Until the iPhone vibrated, telling him the passcode was wrong.

He must've entered it too fast or something. So he tries again.

And again.

Until the iPhone switches its screen to say: "iPhone is disabled. Try again in 5 minutes."

There's no way. You never change your password. And even if you did, you would tell him—you two even had each other's fingerprints saved into each other's phones in the past (you know, before the world decided that Apple's home button was too lame and decided to just completely get rid of it). If there was an option to save multiple faces for Face ID, you two would be that couple that saved each others faces in your own phones.

That being said, Jake sat there, your phone in hand, frozen. Why was your phone locked? Why was Jay texting you 10 texts per second? Why did he feel guilty about this entire situation?

He hears the shower switch off and in that moment, he swears he feels his heart beat just a little faster. He tells himself there's no way you'll be out before the 5 minutes are up. You followed a really meticulous skincare routine (one that Jake memorized by now) that took an extra 15 minutes of your time after each shower.

"Hey Jake?" Your voice calls out from the tiny bathroom door crack that you left open before you hopped in the shower, "Is my phone out there? Do you mind bringing it to me?"

Fuck.

Jake shifts on the couch. Taps his foot on the ground. Returns your phone to its original spot. Clears his throat.

"Don't you want to get dressed first?" he calls back, quite timidly.

He can hear you stop moving around in the bathroom. Probably telling yourself what an odd response that was. To be fair, it was an odd question, considering the fact that you two have been together for so long, it’s not like he hasn’t seen you undressed before...intentionally or not.

Next thing he knows, the steam is rolling out of the bathroom door and you're stepping out in your towel, eyebrows raised.

"If you didn't want to get up from the couch, you could've just said so, you lazy butt," you smirk at him as you walk towards him and the couch, leaving a faint trail of water drops behind you. Jake's eyes follow your figure as you go to grab your phone and lift the screen towards yourself.

That's when he freezes. You do too.

You cock your head, as if asking yourself why it was disabled. He can hear the gears in your head turning.

"Jake, did you try to unlock my phone?"

He runs through all the possible excuses he could blurt out. Come on Jake, think of something! But he knows he can't lie to you.

Too many beats of silence pass by.

"Maybe," he finally says—or more like murmurs. He looks up to you like a child looking up at their mom, who just them caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar. To his surprise, you don't show any hint of anger. A flash of confusion—and is that worry he sees?—crosses your face for a split second before you shrug and turn towards your room to change, dropping the subject. It was natural for you two to use each other's phones anyways. So then why did you have that look of worry?

Jake knows you well, a little too well. But that's what you love about him. He can easily read all your emotions. One of the many things he picked up from dating you for almost two years now. But why would you care if he tried to get into your phone? Why would that worry you? All the possibilities run through head and his own worry begins to increase. He trusts you. He does.

So then why does the thought bother him throughout the entire day? Why does he bring it up during dinner later that night, when you're both cuddled on your sofa, slurping take-out ramen while rewatching your favorite k-drama under the thick blanket that you always keep in your living room for nights like these?

"Huh? Of course I've heard from Jay today, we had that conversation about that stupid meme you boys kept laughing about in the groupchat we're all in, didn't we?" You answer him when he asks if you've heard from Jay lately. You sit up from your warm spot under Jake's arm to put your empty bowl on the coffee table in front of you. When you lean back, you look up at him,

"Why do you ask?"

"Oh, it's nothing, just wondering," he says, avoiding your eyes by keeping his own trained on the series currently playing on your TV. This would be your third time rewatching this series together. He would never complain to you though, he knows how much you love it and if he were being honest, he was secretly attached to the characters—not that he would ever tell you, he would never hear the end of it from you and the boys.

"You're being weird. Just tell me, or did you forget that I can practically read your mind," you say with a giggle and shove to his side, the one you were currently warmly cuddled into. Jake wasn't the only one who learned how to read emotions; you could read him just as well as he could read you. And like you, that's one of the many things he loved about you. But maybe not in this case.

He toyed around with the contents inside his ramen bowl with his chopsticks.

"I just..." God, how does he word this? Why was he having trouble explaining it? You were the easiest person to talk to. To him, you were the only person he could tell everything to.

"Jaywastextingyouabunchearlier," he blurts out quickly, but not quickly enough for you to miss it.

He feels you shift under his arm. He feels the air in the room shift. Tension.

"What?" Now you're sitting upright, legs criss-crossed in front of you on the couch but turned, so your body is completely facing him. He mirrors you, sitting up to put his ramen bowl next to yours on the surface, but he stays facing the TV.

"Your phone kept going off because of him when you were showering," he says with a little more confidence. But inside, he was nervous as hell, the same nervous as when he asked you out for the first time many moons ago. But it's too late to back out now, he brought it up first, anyways. Guess we're having this conversation now, good going Jake!

"Is that why you tried unlocking my phone earlier? I mean I thought you were just trying to leave selfies on my phone like you always do but you were trying to read my texts?" You question, slightly raising your soft voice. He doesn't know how to react, he hates confrontation.

"It wasn't like that, Jay just kept spamming you and like I—why was he even texting you in the first place? Then your phone got disabled because you changed your password, which you never do by the way, so I–"

"I changed it because my little sister kept getting into my phone when I went to visit my family yesterday! Did you really think I was hiding something from you? You know I can text whoever I want, right? You don't own me."

Okay so now he's managed to make you angry. Good going Jake, part 2!

"Okay but what does Jay need from you so bad that he has to send you like 50 messages at once?" He's standing now. So are you, eyebrows furrowed together as you collect your bowls from the table.

Standing there, bowls in hand, you say, "Jake, that's none of your business! It wasn't even that big of a deal, I don't know why you felt the need to nosy around."

"Well, if he's texting you non-stop, then obviously it's a big deal! We wouldn't even be having this conversation if you would just tell me what you guys were talking about," he murmurs back, eyes narrowing. You scoff as you trail into your kitchen. He follows behind and stops at the other side at your kitchen island as you place the dirty dishes into the sink.

"No, we're having this conversation because you obviously don't trust me! It doesn't matter what we were talking about, it doesn't matter who I was texting! I could be texting your mother and I shouldn't have to tell you what we were talking about! That's why we're having this conversation," you say as you turn back to face him from the other end.

He hates this. He hates fighting with you (which is a very, very rare occasion). He hates that you think he doesn't trust you. He hates his insecurity eating at him, telling him to keep questioning you on why you and Jay were talking in the first place. He was aware that you were close with his friends, but it wasn't until the texts he realized just how close you are with them. It's not that he didn't trust you, he just didn't know how to act when it came to you and other guys. God knows how he got lucky enough to meet you, let alone date you, so the thought of him losing you to someone else actually terrified him. Not only were you his first real relationship, but he wanted you to be his first and only one in life. You were it for him.

"Why did he text you." He deadpans from his side of the kitchen.

You scoff with a hint of exasperation. "You're kidding me."

You stare at him. He stares back, quirking an eyebrow, as if restating the same question back, as if testing you.

You're fuming now. Why was he making it so hard? Why was he doubting you? Out of frustration, you start laughing, which scares him. That can't be good.

"Fine. You wanna know so bad? Take a look," you're one tone level away from screaming as you take your phone out of your pocket, unlock it, and open up your conversation with "bluejay park", sliding the phone across the island to reach him.

Jake stares at the phone which now lies there, unlocked, facing him. Isn't this what he wanted? It is, right? That's why he started this dreaded argument with you in the first place.

Then why does he feel so fucking awful?

He looks back up at you, to see you sighing and looking up at the ceiling, as if trying to force your forming tears back into your eyes.

Yup, he feels horrible.

"Happy? Happy to know we were just trying to plan a surprise birthday party for you but you and your jealously just had to know huh, Jake?" You quickly state, voice cracking, as you tried not to choke up. You weren't sad that he found out about the surprise. You were sad that it felt like he didn't trust you. That he thought you were the type of person to do god knows what behind his back. You hated the feeling of not being trusted. Especially by Jake, of all people.

"Fuck."

Jake's face (and heart) falls with the most broken expression you've ever seen. But you're too sad, angry, tired (a mix of all?) to care. Your only goal right now is to not let him see you cry.

You hurry past him, across your apartment, and into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you, leaving behind a shocked, and regretful, Jake.

His heart shrinks when he hears the door slam shut and a little more when he looks down at the still unlocked phone in front of him. He didn't have the heart in him to look at it anymore. Of course he trusted you, he knew what you said was the truth.

He mentally screams at himself for assuming the worst––for thinking that you, a literal angel, would betray him. First, he thought he was losing you to someone else. Now, he was afraid he just lost you through his own actions.

He hesitantly sulks over to your door, softly knocking when he reaches it.

"Y/N?"

No response.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry. I didn't know, I let my—”

"Jake just please leave me alone for now," he hears you painfully say from a distance, meaning you're on your bed. He knows the door's unlocked—the lock on your door hasn't been working for a long time now, despite the many times he tells you to talk to your landlord about it. But he doesn't find it in him to open it. He knows he messed up. If he saw you in there right now, crying, he wouldn't know what to do. He wouldn't know what he would to do himself, knowing he was the reason behind your tears.

He nods in silence, knowing you can't see him, but does so anyways and returns to his spot on the couch. He could leave right now, go back to the dorm with the rest of the guys, let you have your space like you wanted. But his heart hurts at the idea of leaving you sad, angry, or a combination of both. He can't leave this unresolved. He fucked up, he has to fix it.

And so he sits on your couch for another hour. The clock on the wall behind him continues to tick as the silent tension in your apartment continues to grow. When it hits 11pm and he's sure you've slumbered off into sleep, he quietly enters your room.

He can see your figure in the dark, your back facing the door as you're curled up into yourself under the comforter. He feels his heart drop a little more when he imagines you crying in that position from earlier. He slowly peels the comforter open and gets into his side of the bed, careful not to bother your sleeping figure.

Laying there, staring up at the ceiling, he's never felt more like a stranger in your bed. It's not that he hasn't slept over before, god knows he's probably slept over at your place more than he has in his own bed. But right now, in this moment, he just felt awful. Like he didn't deserve to be in such close proximity to you. How could he be deserving? He violated your privacy, made you feel like you weren't trusted, doubted your relationship.

These thoughts run through Jake's head as he stares up at your ceiling fan, wishing he could turn back time to a few hours ago, before he checked your phone, before he let his insecurities get to the best of him.

You can feel the dip he makes in the bed behind you when he gets in. Of course you're not asleep. There's no way sleep could reach you when you had the recent events constantly replaying in your head like a broken record.

You knew Jake with all your heart. You didn't have to look at him to know he was probably laying there, hurt, staring up at the ceiling, drafting what to say once you wake up—or once he knows you're actually still awake.

You decide to break the tension by turning to lay on your other side, facing him.

You were wrong. Thanks to the little sliver of moonlight shining through your sheer curtains, you can see him, now laying on his side, already looking at you with so much regret in his eyes. You can almost hear the cracks in your heart physically forming.

His eyes widen when he realizes you're still awake. He opens his mouth to say something, but not before you quickly shift over to his side of the bed and embrace him in a tight hold, burying your face into his chest. Without any hesitation, he returns the gesture, arms holding your body as close to him as possible. As if once he let go, he'd lose you forever.

He lets out a sigh of relief as he breathes you in. He didn't even know he was holding his breath all this time.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry Y/N," he mutters into your hair. He feels his hoodie getting wet from where you buried your face. He pulls you closer, if that's even possible, feeling his own eyes heating up with sadness. He would never forgive himself for making you feel this way.

"You know I trust you right? Please know that. I shouldn't have assumed the worst when I saw your phone. I...I let my insecurities get to the best of me."

You move your head from its home on his chest to look up at him, as if asking him to elaborate. This was new to you, you didn't know he held insecurities in your relationship. But it wasn't because of you, no, you were his entire world. Losing you meant losing everything.

Jake's never been the best at saying his feelings. That's why it took him so long (with the help of his six best friends) to finally confess how he felt about you. He was afraid of letting people in if they could easily walk out. Maybe that's why he never let anyone into his life before you. But oh, were you an exception. The second he met you, he knew he was fucked. But thank god he did, because thanks to you, he's been able to be more open, more vulnerable. He's able to talk to you about anything and everything. He doesn't have that same fear of losing people anymore, not when he has you in his life to reassure him every step of the way. But right now, in this moment, he doesn't know how to tell you that his new fear was, in fact, just losing you.

The sheer idea of you not being a part of his life anymore terrified him.

"I hope you know you're never going to lose me Jake, if that's what you're insecure about," you softly mutter as you wrap your free arm that's not stuck in between both your bodies around him to gently play with the ends of his hair. It's as if you could read his mind, he loves that you know him so well.

"It just sucks that you could even think I would ever do something as awful as what you were assuming...with one of your closest friends nonetheless," you continue.

"I know. I know, and I feel terrible. I'm so sorry. I know you would never do anything remotely close to that, and I know you would never intentionally try to keep anything from me," he sighs. He shifts so he can lie down on his back, bringing you with him to lie on his chest, never letting you go once. "It's just...I just don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you Y/N. Everyday, I ask myself what heroic thing I must've done in my past life to deserve this life with you and I can't help but think you could just as easily be stripped away from me."

As much as your heart breaks listening to him rant, you feel your love for him grow even more. You knew how hard it was for him to put his true emotions into words, and him telling you this reminded you how much trust he had in you.

After some moments of silence, moments of him drawing random shapes onto your back, moments of you two just holding each other like it was the end of the world, you speak up.

"I love you. I'm sorry for making you doubt yourself—"

"No, it's not your fault, I can't help but think things like that. I just don't know what I did to deserve you, and I know that I need to be mo–"

"Babe let me finish," you say with a little giggle in your tone. He immediately stops and mutters a little "sorry". How cute, you tell yourself.

"I was gonna say," you look back up at him so you're making direct eye contact now. "You're the only one that's ever on my mind, Jake. I can't help the way you think, but I can assure you that there is no one else I would rather be with. And I mean that for the rest of life."

You snuggle back into the comfortable hoodie he's currently wearing (you make a mental note to yourself to steal it from him later) and decide to ease the tension,

"So you're stuck with me for life, sorry to inform you Mr. Sim."

Jake lets out a laugh, looking down at you to see you returning his smile with a cheeky one.

"I love you. So much," he says so sincerely, so genuinely, that you almost tear up again from how content you were. Now you were asking yourself, what did you do to deserve him?

Jake Sim is not a jealous person.

No, he just loves you.

A lot.

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nevermindirah · 3 years

Text

Yitzhak!

is a character! who Gregadiah What-Is-Math Rucka gave us almost no information about!

I've gone through Tales Through Time #6: The Bear and #1: My Mother's Axe with several magnifying glasses and done a lot of googling and taken my copy of the Tanakh off my shelf for the first time since (well, since the last time I needed to read Torah for TOG reasons, which I think was Booker Passover headcanons) and here's the best I can come up with.

In The Bear we meet someone who goes by the name Isaac Blue:

Read on for a lot of comic panel analysis and historical research and Jewish flailing!

So what do we know about this Isaac Blue person?

He's Lorge, he's got curly hair, he's basically a taller version of Joe as drawn by Leandro Fernández (ie an antisemitic stereotype why the fuck did they approve this character design?? and then why did they double down and copy-paste it to Yitzhak??):

He's got a mezuzah on the doorpost of his house in Alaska!

I screamed about the mezuzah way back in January in this post where I (very reasonably) assumed this character was Joe and spun myself a tale about how Booker is still Joe's brother so the mezuzah stays up even though Booker isn't welcome in that house for a century. Bottom line: the mezuzah is a tradition with origins in the commandment from Deuteronomy 6:9 to "write the words of G-d on the gates and doorposts of your house" and evolved over the course of the Rabbinic period into the modern mezuzah we see here.

I did unnecessary levels of google image search to glean absolutely no useful information about Yitzhak’s origins from this panel:

I've decided the variant cover of TTT 6 is Yitzhak because of a panel in My Mother’s Axe, shown here, and what's likely an unnecessarily deep reading of Exodus, discussed further down:

The person at the right of the bottom panel is wearing the same clothes as in the TTT 6 variant cover and has the same shoulder-length curly hair and hairy forearms.

Left to right, the people in this panel are Lykon (I'll never get used to him being white in the comics), Andy, Noriko (I think? why doesn't Andy mention her by name here?), and Yitzhak. Andy's robe has a stereotypically Greek design on the sleeve cuff, and I had to stop myself 10 minutes into a Wikipedia rabbit hole because Gregorforth doesn't think that deep about this shit. The solid clues as to timeline that we get in this panel are:

Andy's iron axe

the presence of Lykon, who Andy first met in 331 BCE

So all we know is that Yitzhak is an immortal, he was a contemporary of Lykon, and he's Jewish.

Isaac is the most common Anglicization of Yitzhak (which in turn is the most common Anglophone transliteration of יִצְחָק‎), and Greg always uses the (transliterated) Hebrew when he refers to this character. Yitzhak is the long-awaited child of Abraham and Sarah in Genesis, the child who G-d commanded Abraham to sacrifice but spared at the last minute. I see what you did there, Gregory.

Why Isaac Blue? This is where I pulled out my Tanakh. According to the New JPS translation, blue is the first of three colors of yarn listed in Exodus 35:6 among the gifts requested of the Israelites to construct the priestly garments for the Tabernacle and later the Temple. Then in Numbers 15:38 the Israelites are commanded to "make themselves fringes on the corners of their garments throughout the ages; let them attach a cord of blue to the fringe at each corner."

And now for sandbox timelines party! Gregadiah gave us ALMOST NOTHING to go on, so I'm gonna make my own fun.

I, like many modern Jews, think the stories in the Tanakh are foundational mythology that are valuable because of how they've shaped our people but that contain some fucked-up shit and either way aren't meant to be a record of historical facts. Modern scholarship generally agrees that the community we now call Jews emerged as a distinct group of Canaanites sometime in the late Bronze Age (cw this video's host says the Name of G-d aloud despite being a religious studies scholar who knows that is not a name anyone but the Temple priests are allowed to say). The first non-Biblical written record of the people Israel is from an Egyptian source c. 1200 BCE, and the Biblical kingdom of David and Solomon was probably an exaggeration of whatever really happened during the Bronze Age Collapse. We start getting into historical-fact territory a few centuries into the Iron Age:

588 BCE Solomon's Temple destroyed, Babylonian exile begins

538 BCE Cyrus of Persia allows Jews to return to Jerusalem

515 BCE Second Temple construction complete

332 BCE Alexander the Great At Something I Guess conquered Judea, beginning the Hellenistic period of Jewish history — 331 BCE Andy & Lykon find each other

167 BCE another jerkface Greek king desecrated the Temple and basically outlawed Judaism

164 BCE recapture of Jerusalem and Temple rededication during the Maccabean Revolt

70 CE destruction of the Second Temple by the Romans, beginning of the Rabbinic period of Jewish history that we're still in now

What if... and hear me out... what if immortals come in pairs, and the pairs are:

Andy & Quynh

Joe & Nicky

Booker & Nile

LYKON & YITZHAK

What if Yitzhak was a priest of the Second Temple? What if he and Lykon killed each other just like Joe and Nicky would in the same city around 1300 years later, but instead of enemies-to-lovers speedrun with an absurdly long happily-ever-after, when Lykon died permanently Yitzhak decided to separate from Andy and Noriko and become the hermit we later see in Alaska?

We don't know how old Yitzhak is compared to the others, only that he was a contemporary of Lykon at a time when Andy was using an Iron Age version of her mother's axe. Other plausible origins for him:

a Jew of the early Rabbinic period, maybe a child or grandchild of people who were still alive before the Second Temple was destroyed

a Judean of the Second Temple era under the Romans or Greeks or Persians, maybe a priest, maybe not

an exilee in Babylon, maybe of the generation who got to return, maybe of the generation who was exiled (he doesn't look like he was 50 at his first death but who knows, he could've been mortal for both)

an Israelite of the Kingdoms of Israel and Judah, maybe a priest of Solomon's Temple or again maybe not

an Israelite wandering in the desert with Moses

THEE Yitzhak, ben Avraham v'Sarah, our patriarch who was brought up for sacrifice and then spared, and then spared again, and then spared again, and again, and again...

or! he could also be a Canaanite or other Levantine who predates the people Israel, who at some point in his very long life chose to join our mixed multitude, who like Andromache before him (and like Avram and Sarai would in this case do after him) took a new name to reflect the magnitude of influence this people has had on him

Why do I keep saying Yitzhak might have been a priest? It's thanks to the one detail in the artwork I could plausibly connect to solid research without getting a PhD real quick. Take a look at the gorgeous detail on the opening of his robe in the TTT 6 cover. He's dressed in rags, holes and dirt everywhere, rough stitches probably from hasty repair work — except for the neck opening. Compare that to this description from Exodus 39:23 of the construction of the priestly garments for the Tabernacle: "The opening of the robe, in the middle of it, was like the opening of a coat of mail, with a binding around the opening, so that it would not tear."

The next verses describe the intricate designs for the hem of the priestly garment. Yitzhak's ragged garment looks like the hem was torn off entirely.

Am I overthinking this? Yes I am! You're welcome!

My friend and historical research hero @lady-writes is in a Discord server with Gregadiah and asked the man himself some questions about all this. He clearly thinks he's being sneaky?? No shit Yitzhak is Jewish, dude, I want DETAILS!

I will not be giving up my Jewish Booker headcanon, I've put too much thought into it by now, the internalized shame of antisemitism explains Booker's depression too well for me, and it just adds so much richness to Booker/Nile both being children of forced diasporas. Fortunately (for him, not me, bc I'd do it anyway!) Gregothy supports fan headcanons even when they're not in line with his own:

One last thing before I close like 100 research tabs and go back to writing historical fantasy and/or porn! I love that, despite that atrocious caricature of a face design, our canon Jew and our fanon Jew are both Lorge and Soft and Kind, flying the face of the antisemitic stereotype of Ashkenazi Jewish men as small and weak, but also not falling into the New Jew / Muscle Jew stereotype that Zionism created. (I am trying SO HARD not to talk about Israel/Palestine for once ughhhhhhhhhh) Anyway here's a (US-centric but very good) primer on both these stereotypes of Jewish masculinity. Is this why I'm forever projecting my transmasc diasporist feels onto Jewish Booker the service sub? 🤷🏻‍♂️

I’ll reblog a second version of this with full image descriptions so that there’s a version accessible for folks who need IDs as well as a version accessible for folks who get overwhelmed by walls of text.

#TOG POC Love Fest #yitzhak #jewish booker #tales through time spoilers #tales through time #tog meta #tog #jewish things #mine #antisemitism #hi i'm an antizionist jew no i don't really want to talk about it

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lunaekalenda · 3 years

Text

𝖓𝖚𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖎𝖛𝖊

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eren x fem!reader

suggestive conversations, teacher x student mention, smoking, alcohol, mention of love triangle, reiner doesn't have an easy life, characters are aged up and they correspond to the last season, modern au, eren being a tease, nsfw once they get to the party, dirty talking, reader may have a degradation kink, slapping, finger-sucking cause that's my sign, neck grabbing, rough composure, really long fic and really long warnings, size kink, wall sex, consensual relation, reader is tiny next to eren, kneejob (does that exist?), use of words like fucktoy, doll, slut; dom!eren x sub!reader, goddess i’m getting scared bc of the quantity of warnings, unprotected sex (don’t be like eren), oral (m receiving), consensual filming,, author is horny half of the drabble, please correct me in any errors! sex scenes are really bad written sorry

a/n: yeah... i don't know what i'm doing someone pls tell me to stop. as always, very welcome criticism and minors please do not interact!!

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"Jaeger, Eren." The teacher says his name and he gets up, loose clothes and his lazy bun on the back of his head giving him that attractive visual he has. Girls look at him with interest and boys with envy. After all, they all want to be like him, date him, be his friends. Be near him is something to be grateful for half the university students. What a bunch of idiots.

His tall body reaches the professor table, were he leans on, receiving the paper that acredites his graduation. A smirk on his face, directed to your young teacher, makes your friend Pieck sigh on the chair next to you. "He has for sure fucked her." she says. You look to the teacher expression, a smile just for him while he raises just the corners of his lips to her. You look to the paper on your hands. It's your last day. You're finally graduating. University is just another closed door for you. The last people take their diplomas quickly, the teachers giving their typical emotional discourses before releasing you to the campus yard. Reiner gets closer to your group, his arm around your shoulders as he smile for all of you.

"Today. Tonight." he corrects himself. "There's a party and, as the captain of the Waterpolo team, I'm the host." he says, a smile on his lips reaching his kind eyes. "You're all invited, of course. VIP invitations" Winking to all of you and gaining a giggle from Pieck, Reiner moves his head to a whistle. Bertholdt calls him from the door of the swimming pool, and Reiner leaves, smiling at you.

"I'll see you there?" he asks, a huge smile on his face. You can't help but smile back at him while you nod. Reiner leaves running the yard and Porco smiles at you, a joke about to escape his lips. You two have been friends time enough to know every single expression of the other.

"He does like you." he says, instead. Something serious for the first time in your friendship. Someone hits him with a paper when he was about to add something.

"You're finally out." Porco's big brother, Marcel Galliard, who works as the waterpolo trainer, takes his brother by the arm. "And out of the pics if you stay here, come on." He takes Porco with him, both of them leaving in Reiner's direction. Pieck smiles at you, about to comment something about Reiner, and you search your phone. It isn't there. Fuck.

"Pieck, I've lost my phone." you say, her face changing to a concerned expression. You touch every pocket and every place you've could have put it, without gain. Even she searches on the little handbag she's carrying. You remembered to take a pic with Pieck on the terrace and had to fix your shoes. You probably forgot it there. "Shit. Is the Uni still open, right?" Pieck nods quietly. Annie turns around to look at you. "Coming back real quick, wait for me here, please."

You make your way upstairs to the latest floor of the Univeristy, a terrace where teachers liked to go and smoke or drink their coffees between classes. "How can I forget my phone there? Am I dumb?" you think for yourself. There are just a few stairs left. You find Armin on your way. His short blond hair and his big blue eyes are recognizable everywhere.

"Congratulations." he says, that gentle smile on his face. "We finally graduated." You smile at him back, nodding.

"We did, Min." you say. Armin was in the same class as you, and he's really nice to you. Being paired in a couple works has made your friendship grow little by little, and you can consider him a friend now. It's ironical how he's Eren's best friend, even when the two of them have been seen parted for a while. He looks at you, his eyes following your way. "You go to the terrace?" he asks. You nod. He hums and looks upstairs, as if he was making sure something.

"Forgot something there, but it will take a minute." Armin nods and you keep going. Opening the big door, that is casually still open, the wind shakes your hair and your dress. You see your phone on the chair you sat earlier, while taking the pic, and you're fast to take it. Fortunately, it does have battery and it seems as nobody has touched it. You turn around, ready to go down to meet your friends, when you listen femenine giggles and sound of wet kisses. Gross. Is somebody using the rooftop to fuck? In the university? You shake your head. But your legs don't move. Your head searches unconsciously the place where the voices are coming from. You want to know who they are. Another giggle. Another kiss. A quiet sigh, the sound of fabrics. "Come on, move, move." You say to yourself. The woman speaks. "Now that you graduated..." Isn't that your teachers voice? With a student? You remain silent, trying to hear him. You hear a sigh. A manly and long sigh.

"Now that I graduated I have no reason to come here." You know that voice. That deep, raspy tone and that way of talking. Your brain searches quickly who does that voice belong to.

"Come on, Eren." even when you where about to figure who was the mysterious boy, she says his name. You move your hand to cover your mouth, your phone ringing in that moment. Pieck's ID showing on the screen. "Fuck, fuck." you try to silence it in vain. They heard you. Eren sighs, a long sigh that is followed by high heels steps. She's searching you. You're there, on the middle of the rooftop, and she's going around, near the door, no way to escape for you. You search quickly a place to hide. Then, he talks again. "They probably left, hm?" he says. His tone is way deeper now. "But we should as well. Search another student next year. I won't come back here for you." he says. With angry steps, she leaves. You can see her shadow from behind the little maintenance shed. You hear then calm steps, a lighter and the combustion of a cigarette. Eren palms the shed metallic roof, scaring you.

"Having fun spying the others?" he says. The smoke comes out of his mouth when he kneels next to you. "I can bet you're wet with just hearing us making out." you look at him in his green eyes, without avoiding his gaze. He raises a brow, putting the cigarette again between his lips.

"This is a public space. It isn't for you to bring every single girl you want." you say. Eren lets out a little laugh.

"I had the teacher's permission." he says, jokingly. "Who do you think you are to question her permissions?" his lips part, letting the smoke escape quietly. He gets up, his tall body resting against the structure. He's attractive, and he knows it for sure. But, the moment he opens that damn mouth of his... He loses all his attractiveness and charm. You take your phone, ready to go down with your friends.

"I hope you have a good future, Eren Jaeger. See you."

"Later, baby. On Reiner's party." he says, a little smile on his lips. "I guess he had invited the girl he likes." you didn’t like that joking tone.

"And why the hell would he invite you?" you ask. Eren slides his eyes down your body when you get up, your light dress moving with the wind, your hair getting messy and your challenging eyes looking directly at his. He entertains himself on your legs, how they looked smooth and good under the dress. And, surprisingly, he finds himself thinking of the sweet thing upper, covered by the dress and your underwear.

"Because I'm on his waterpolo team." he says, his green irises going back to yours. Damn, true. He’s the point of the team. The offensive. The strongest one between them.

"Then I hope we don't see each other." you say. Eren gets closer to you, smoke leaving his lips while he smiles jokingly at you again. You can smell the tobacco from your position, but you don’t want to move. You want to show him you can also keep his gaze. That you’re not intimidated by him.

"I'll be searching for you." he whispers. "After all, you stayed up here to see who I was making out with. Maybe you're jealous. But don't worry, i'll gladly show you what I did to her" You raise a brow this time, giving a couple steps back to put distance. You cross your arms on your chest. Eren smiles, taking the cigarette away from his lips.

"Search another girl. I'm sure a lot of them want your attention." you say. That makes Eren smirk. He walks a couple steps back, his back resting against the shed again. He throws the cigarette and steps on it.

"You have a strong personality, not like all the others. I like it." his eyes are on yours, and you're not afraid to keep the visual contact with him. "You're different." he says. You take a couple steps near him, heading to the door. Palming his shoulder, you smile.

"Good job reading all that cliche books where you took that phrase. Now, I have to go." his hand grips your wrist. With a shake, you get free and, false smiling at him, you leave. Your heart is racing while you go downstairs, Eren is still on the terrace, giggling for himself. He found such an interesting one. You keep going downstairs until you reach the yard, Pieck's black hair and Annie's bun can be seen. You walk towards them, your phone ringing on your hand. It's Pieck again. She sees you a hangs up, walking towards you.

"You took forever, y/n" she says, showing you her phone. "I calles you a hundred times. What were you doing?" she asks. You don't want to discover the teacher and Eren and less on the campus. "I'll tell you later." you say. Pieck told you to have dinner and get ready for the party at her home, so the two of you start to walk, waving your hands at Annie, who was waiting for Armin. Eren comes out of the university as well. His gaze finds yours and he smiles at you, but it isn't a sweet smile. It’s a teasing one. You turn around and follow Pieck.

"Eren? I told you those two had something!" she says. You're tying your shoes while she applies rimmel on her lashes. She looks beautiful, with that golden tight dress that shines when she moves. You wanted to go with your graduation dress, but she quickly corrected you. "No, no, that dress is too beautiful for this type of party. You have to show what you have." she said. She lended you a red dress that fits you. It is beautiful, and you look good on it. She turns around. "Were they in the middle of it? What happened!" she asks. You blush.

"They were just kissing, i think. They kinda broke up." you say. Pieck nods quietly and looks again to the mirror, taking blush to her cheeks. You explain her that Eren talked to you after that.

"Oh, so he's going to the party?" she asks. You nod. "Porco told me he wasn't that interested, so he'll probably pass." You really hope Porco is right while you two walk to Reiner's house, a big duplex near the campus. You can hear music and people talking from the corner of the street. Reiner opens the door for you.

"Y/N!" he says, quickly hugging you. Pieck waves her hand at him. "Come on, girls, enter." he lets you in. There isn't a huge amount of people. Jean and Connie from the Waterpolo club are playing beer pong and Bertholdt is serving some drinks. You look around, but you don't know if you want to find him or make sure he isn't there.

It seems like Eren isn't there, for your luck. Bert gives you the drink you asked for and you thank him. There's a couple people talking near a speaker, another ones are playing on Reiner's TV and another ones are dancing. Reiner smiles.

"If you need anything, the rooms and the living room are up. There's a bathroom in that door and another one upstairs." he says. You smile at him. "I'll be around here if you need me." he says. You nod and he disappears, giving your arm a soft squeeze. Pieck tells you that she's going outside and you decide to stay inside. The juice with a little bit of vodka is kinda strong, but it tastes sweet. You hear a hum near you.

"What are you drinking?" you roll your eyes, turning around. Eren's tall body is there, smiling at you. He looks into your cup. "Juice?" he asks. You raise a brow.

"Do you care?" he lets out a melodious laugh. "Don't you have friends?" you can almost feel all the gazes in you. Envy gazes, surprise gazes. You know they're commenting. "How did she get his attention?" "Sure he's playing with some bad toys" You look at Eren.

"I do. But my interest tonight is in you." he tells. "After all, you deserve private representations of what we were doing, since you were that curious."

"Get lost, please." you ask him. He smirks. Taking your cup, he smells it. He gives it back to you.

"Don't drink that much." he says. You look at him. Is he now giving you orders? Taking the cup to your lips, you drink under his gaze. He raises a brow when you take the cup away from your mouth. You weren’t going to get orders and less form a dork like him. Surprisingly, his thumb takes a drop that slides from your lips. He licks it.

"Tastes sweet." it's all he says, before disappearing. Did he just licked it? You put the cup on a near table and follow him outside. He's lighting a cigarette. He smiles at you when you arrive.

"What was that. What you did inside." you ask. He laughs.

"We can't waste alcohol, can we?" he says. He walks closer to you. His bun is still low and loose, and he's wearing his waterpolo team t-shirt with ripped black jeans. A big 5 in his t-shirt. The number he uses on the water. "Do you smoke?" he asks, offering you the cigarette. You shake your head. He raises a brow. "Wanna try?" he asks. You're not into that type of things but, maybe, the way his green eyes challenged you makes you nod. You want to show him you're capable. He gives you the cigarette. "Want me to teach you?" When he ended the phrase, you're coughing. He laughs. "Such an impatient girl, hm?"

He takes the cigarette again, taking a puff, his lips right on the spot you stained with gloss. He gets closer. "Let me show you." his lips touch yours quietly and you feel the smoke flowing between your mouths, entering yours. You’re unable to move, even when he’s kissing you. It feels nice, feels warm and soft against your mouth, the smoke entering right from his parted lips. You want more. More of him. He parts. "Breath out quietly." Why are you following his orders now? You do it softly, his gaze on your lips while you do it. "Good girl."

That was hot. You can't deny it. The way he passed the smoke to you, how he looked at you. Oh, goddess. He smiles, stepping on the cigarette. Your legs feel like jelly and your heart races when he gets closer.

"You liked it?" he asks, a sweet purr on your ear. You nod. You did. Now you get why everyone is always around Eren. He's naturally magnetic, attractive. He’s the type of person that bewitches, that makes you follow his orders even when you don’t want you. He can make you weak for you from just a single peck. "I know more tricks with my mouth than passing smoke" he says. That makes you cringe a little, get down of your bubble.

"You're so dirty minded." You say. Maybe he was starting to attract you, to make you fall for him. You won't. You need to go out. Far from him. Far before you fall.

"I was starting to have fun." he whispers. You start to walk, heading to Reiner's house again. Eren follows you quietly. You've seen enough romantic films to know every single way he has to take you to his bed. You sigh. Inside, a lot of people is dancing. You also want to. Eren follows you quietly while you enter the improvised dance floor, a empty space between two sofas, moving to the song. It's hot inside Reiner's house, a stupid amount of people dancing together, bodies close and teasing movements. Maybe Eren tries to seduce you outside, but it is your time to make him beg for you. Moving your head and your body, you see him from th corner of your eye. He's there, behind you, his hands tingling. He wants to touch your body, that tiny red dress and that velvety skin. He wants to mark that exposed neck with his bites, tangle that hair with his fingers, feel you against him. You take one of his hands, putting it on your hips. He swallows.

"You're not that brave now." you whisper, without letting him hear you. His other hand finds your belly, going up to the low cut of Pieck's dress. His hand touches your skin, making you gasp. He gets close. "You won." he whispers on your ear, his hands sneaking, touching every showing skin he finds. You smirk, turning around. You're not aware of Reiner's sad gaze. "I won?" you ask. He smiles, his face getting closer, as if he wanted to kiss you. "Hmh." he hums. You smile at him, letting your body meet his really close, making you feel every part of Eren’s body. You raise a brow. "There's evidence of my win." you joke, Eren's lips curving on a teasing smile.

"You should take responsibility of your trophy." he feels your hands on his arms, making him sigh. He takes your hand and guides you upstairs. "Wait, Eren, wait!" you ask him. People look at you, going head to the second floor, your hand jailed on his. Almost everybody knows now what you two are going to do. "Eren, everybody will..."

"Let them talk. We can have a good time while they spend their last braincells making rumors." he says. He's kinda right. You shouldn't care of what people say or what people think. "But it is Reiner's house." you tell him. He smiles.

"He lets me use the guest room to sleep. It's almost my room. My brother doesn't really like my company, I guess." he says. You feel bad for Reiner. He's such a sweetheart with you, and everybody thinks he likes you. And there are you, about to make out with Eren on his house. But you're drunk of him, of his smell and his skin, his deep voice and his green eyes. You can't help. You need him. He opens the room and lets you in. You don't have even time to see the room, feeling his lips on yours as soon as he closes the door, his hand sneaking behind your back to lock it. One of his arms rest above your head, against the wood, and the other pulls you closer to his body from your low back. His hand grabs your ass roughly, making you jump a little. He giggles against your mouth. His lips taste like tobacco and mint bubblegum. He parts.

"Are you drunk?" he asks. You shake your head. You take his hair on your hand, trying to make him cover your mouth again with his. He gives you a peck. "You want this?" he asks. Your hands search his chest, defined muscles under the team t-shirt.

"I want you, Eren." you don't even know who you are. He has you crazy, begging for him and his kisses, feeling his hotness in your body. You want it. You want him. "Please.". His superiority smirk covers your lips again, your body arching to feel his closer, the grip on you harder, his other hand still on the door. He parts your lips quietly, the softer action of all he has done until now. You feel his tongue caressing yours quietly. It feels nice. His hand takes the border of your red dress, lifting it, asking for your consent. You nod at him, his hand moving it to your waist. He parts to look down, your underwear on his vision camp. He passes his tongue on his lips while his eyes scan that cute black panty you’re wearing. He likes it. Simple, something a cute innocent girl like you would wear. The thought arouses him. He’s going to ruin you, the sweet little girl that seems too tiny for him.

“What a precious panty, doll.” he hums, his knee going up until it meets the black fabric. Then, with a smirk, he makes pressure up, your body feeling his knee hot and hard against your wetness. You gasp and he smiles. “Such a desperate fucktoy.” he whispers, his lips near your open ones, your sighs every time he moves his knee against you. He likes that expression on your face. The way your cute lips are open in silent pleasure signs. He would love to watch them open around another thing, but he takes his free hand to your mouth, his long thumb caressing your lips before entering your mouth, pressing your tongue while you keep making that expression that has become his favorite.��“Suck.” he asks. You obey, your mouth gently sucking his thumb, your tongue playing circles around it. He keeps that game on your cunt, making you lose your concentration on sucking his finger. He puts his knee down, you feel the emptiness between your legs. He takes his phone, tobacco pack and a lighter from his pocket, putting them on the near bed. Then, he takes your hands, guiding them to the fabric of his jeans. You understand what he wants and take the button off, then, unzipping his pants. They fall around his ankles, his muscled legs and his underwear is revealed. He sighs when your hand finds the bulge. You look at him again, spreading kisses on his jaw. His hand covers yours while you try to sneak it in his underwear. He sighs when he feels your cold hand against him, fine and elegant fingers taking his shaft softly. His head rests against the arm on the wall, your kisses going down his body. When you were about to kneel, he takes you up again.

“I’ll let you take a taste of it later.” he sighs again, your hand squeezing harder, making him gasp. His hand closes around your neck, not hard enough to choke you, just a grab. A way to make you know who’s in charge. He kisses you. “Now.” he says, out of breath. His fingers take your panty, sliding it down your legs. He looks at your half- naked body, the dress covering just your thorax. “I want to fuck you right”. He takes your body, pinning you against the wall, your legs around his waist and your hands gripped to his t-shirt. He takes his hand down, the other one holding you in place. His hand strokes his shaft a couple times, also making sure you’re ready enough to take him, before starting to put it in. He feels excited. How your body seems so little between his and the wall. How you’ll struggle to take all of him in. His cock twitch in anticipation. He can’t wait to be deep in you, to know how much of him can you take, but he wants to make it right. Make this something you’ll beg for. Make him feel superior. He pushes slowly, feeling every squeeze and every movement your walls make against him. You moan and he lets out the deepest groan. He doesn’t wait that much to move against you, even when he’s not fully inside, your lips parting to the sensation of him caressing your insides. He puts you against the wall, making the hold easier for him. He thrusts into you with such a power and strength that you feel your head dizzy. He keeps moving, lewd sounds and mixed heavy breaths leaving your mouths. He feels how he’s going deeper and deeper. He smirks.

“That’s it. You’re taking it so good, like the cockslut you are. You struggled to take all of me in that little cunt, all stuffed by me. Such a doll, hm?” he says, out of breath. You nod while he keeps moving against you, you hand taking his hair as his mouth bites your neck. “You were a brat this morning, a fucking tease, but now you’re behaving like a good girl.” he whispers, before bitting you again. One of his hands sneak to the part you two are connected, and he caresses you gently, his fingers knowing perfectly were to touch. You gasp. “You like it, don’t you?”. Your back starts to hurt a little, the wood door is too hard to be resting against. Eren doesn’t mind, his muscles flexed while he keeps moving you up and down his length. “You’re about to, hm?” he asks. “You’re squeezing me. Hard.” He groans. It's true, you're feeling it as well, the knot on your belly that announces your end, pleasure maximized by Eren’s fingers. His lips cover yours, a strand of spit connecting your mouth when he parts, your mind unable to make a coherent sentence. You take your hands to his back, helping him with your movements, reaching your end faster. He isn’t going to edge you. He feels merciful today. He’ll let you cum after all you did for him, after how good you’re squeezing him, after the pretty expressions you made. You fall on his arms with a long sigh, juices dripping down the two of you as you keep shaking on his arms. He smirks. "Oi, you came really hard." He puts you down on the floor again, quietly sliding out of you. He's still as hard as he was. "I'm that good at it?" he asks. Then, he grabs your jaw, making you look at him. "Or maybe you're just a slut for me?"

You blush. You did. He knew where to bite, where to touch and where to thrust. You couldn't help, he’s good at this. He pats your head softly. "Now, in reward, since you didn't wait for me, you could use that pretty little mouth you used to tease me this morning in something more interesting, hm?" he asks. You know what he's asking for. Before you kneel, he sits on the bed, tying his hair again while a cigarette hangs from his lips. Then, he pushes softly by your shoulders. You hear him inhaling the smoke. Taking his phone, he makes you look at him, pulling your jaw quietly. “Do you mind if i film you?” You shake your head. Filming is quite interesting, and hot, definitely hot. “Promise me that those videos will never leave your phone”. He smiles, a soft and genuine smile, offering you his hand. You shake it.

“Promise.”

The image is quite hot, your face resting in his tight and your hands caressing him, while his parted lips let go moans mixed with smoke. He takes two fingers to your mouth, the other hand taking the phone. He films your hands, your expression, his words.

"You look pretty with your mouth full of my fingers, but I prefer another thing, doll." he says, quietly pushing your head, making an intrusion in your mouth. He sighs. "Fuck. Show the camera, pretty." You try to wipe the tears away and he caresses your jaw, making you look to the phone filming you. “Show it how you suck me.” You think about him, watching this video in the loneliness of his dormitory, no light, his hand sneaking into his pants. "Do it alright and we'll be done in a second." he says, taking a puff again. He smokes too much for your preference. His fingers, still full of your saliva, impact against your ass. "Faster, doll." he asks. Slap again. Again. You feel your skin tingling under his slaps, hot and red. "I would also like to ruin that pretty ass you have." He grabs it this time, the camera pointing at his big hand squeezing your buttock. You keep sucking under his sighs and gasps, helping yourself with your hand. He smiles. "That's it, I'm already." he moves his hips against you, strong enough to make you feel it. Tears come again to the corners of your eyes as he keeps moving, stronger, the camera pointing everywhere while he loses himself. "You want it? Should I let you have it on your mouth? Or maybe on your pretty face?" he gasps at the thought of your face full of his seed, and maybe that's what makes him pull it out and paint you. With a final sigh, Eren pauses the video, putting out the cigarette against an ashtray. You rest again near his legs as he looks at you. His hands grab your neck again, making you sit on his lap. “You should clean that mess. Don’t want everybody to know how much of a slut you are for me.” he says, his fingers outlining your lips. “And I’ll keep this.” he says, taking the panties he throw away earlier. “You know where to find me if you wanna get them back. Or maybe give me new ones.”

#aot smut #aot x reader #snk smut #snk x reader #eren smut #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger smut #eren x fem!reader #eren x reader #eren x y/n #eren x you #eren jaeger x reader

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cno-inbminor · 4 years

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a/n: drabble dump for our boy kuroo -- i love him loads and think about him endlessly. i also apologize beforehand for the awkward ending bc i’m terrible at ending things. hope you all enjoy! gonna go knock back a melatonin and sleep my wooziness away

w/c: ~2.4k; some angst, fluff, mentions of alcohol

you’re avoiding tetsurou, and he’s keen on figuring out why. college!au, friends to lovers.

“you’re not as slick as you think, y’know.”

instantly, a shiver creeps up your spine, electrifying you in quick, tiny bursts. those eight, nine words were more than enough to let you know who was standing behind you, peering over your shoulder in an effort to catch your gaze. his voice made your heart clench and lungs fight for oxygen – you begin to curse the high, intellectual level of tetsurou’s observational skills. you just wanted to make it another day without seeing his face outside of class, opting more for longer walks and just looking back to see the back of his stylishly mussed hair in the far distance. it frustrates you how much you’ve used the word ‘infuriating’ when it comes to him, but there’s no other better word you can think of without having to consult the thesaurus.

you have a few seconds to dart your eyes around, desperately searching for a way to escape. your productivity typically thrives within the library, but he’s always there, so with lots of pleading and promises of baked goods and decent coffee, you were able to borrow a close friend’s ID, a graduate student, and access the graduate resource room in a less traveled hallway. and in the expanse of that area, you’ve tucked yourself away into the back corner behind some shelves where almost no one visits. but it leaves you cornered and vulnerable – no matter which direction, in combination with his long legs, tetsurou would catch up to you in a heartbeat. you thought you had finally found a way to permanently escape his grasp, but apparently not.

much like you, he’s not supposed to be able to access this area. after all, you’re both senior undergrads so –

“how did you get in here?” you quietly hiss. you’re pretty sure you’d be booted out if you made any sound above 15 decibels, and you’re not about to let tetsurou ruin this haven for you.

there’s a rustle of clothing, a hand that rests on the back of your seat, and the hairs on the nape of your neck spike, before a delicate whisper informs, “you’re not the only one with grad student friends, love.”

if you weren’t so focused on keeping yourself rigid, body absolutely understanding of the effect that this man has on you, you definitely would’ve shivered from the proximity. but the gentleness in his tone sends you back to three weeks ago – you’re no longer under a fluorescent light tucked between cream-colored walls, but rather basked in a somewhat garish hue of crimson. your veins were tinged with alcohol, the substance leaving you feeling like you were on clouds, a silly smile breaking across your face uncontrollably. other bodies surrounded you but the only one you were focused on was the one in front of you, following your swaying movements to the beat of the music coming through someone’s speakers. even in the warmth of the house, tetsurou’s hands on your waist seared your skin, branding the feeling on you for eternity. his eyes twinkled with apparent affection, unbridled and screaming at you for you to understand the line he wanted to so desperately cross, that the alcohol pushed it behind his efforts to deny himself the one thing he’s been searching for in all these years.

“i’m a little drunk, but fuck, you have no idea how bad i wanna kiss you,” he had murmured just loud enough into your ear, then ghosting his lips over the shell of it. everything around you dissolved into a blur as you could only focus on his breaths and the tightening of his grasp on you. his confession wasn’t completely unwarranted – not at all.

tetsurou and you had met in the quantitative analysis lab freshman year, having been assigned as partners for the semester just by how the ta’s drew the seating chart. he was a friendly, kind soul – had saved your ass multiple times from overshooting your titrations, prevented multiple beakers and graduated cylinders from falling over, always down to compare numbers to help ensure that neither of you were fucking up too hard.

coincidentally, the two of you were registered to the same ochem lab the next year and immediately gravitated towards each other, grateful to find some familiarity in all the anxiety. he witnessed your breakdown mid-lab, did his best to comfort you and salvage your sample so there was enough for recrystallization because you somehow got landed with a shitty, leaking separatory funnel, and stayed back with you when you had fallen behind in the cleanup process. from then on, it was a weekly habit to study together and work on your lab journals and reports together, not taking long to become close friends.

tetsurou did his best to keep his growing feelings at bay, knowing that you had explicitly mentioned swearing off relationships as you tried to figure out your future first. he wasn’t oblivious enough to think that you didn’t feel anything for him whatsoever – you were stubborn and tenacious at best. the house party at miya atsumu’s was simply a suggestion for the both of you to relax after a brutal midterm in your inorganic chemistry course, to let loose and treat yourself. he really hadn’t meant to say what he said, but just looked so good, so lovely and beautiful and enthralling, and you were looking at him like he hung the stars and moon in the sky – he knows he’s sent that same look to you multiple times when you weren’t looking, completely sober and unfazed.

he couldn’t stop himself from leaning close into you that night and you hadn’t stopped in – he knows he should’ve resisted, but feeling your soft lips against his was easily one of the top ten highlights of his college career, and his love for you only surged beyond his hold, overwhelming him to the point where all he could think about was nothing but holding your cheek in the palm of his hand so he could get a better angle and let himself indulge just this once.

that’s all it was – kissing and kissing in the middle of the makeshift dancefloor until there was no more oxygen left in either of your lungs. like a decent human being, he dropped you off at your apartment and bid you goodnight, hoping that you wouldn’t forget all the events that had transpired. and maybe, just maybe, he wished that you would let it happen again, that you could make him the exception in your plans.

evidently, you did remember it, because suddenly your responses to his texts were delayed and dry. you were picking up extra shifts, showing up to class at the very last minute, and leaving as soon as the professor dismissed you, allowing practically no room for him to make small talk. and while he would usually pass you in the halls of the chem building at some point, you were always too far from him and scurrying away in a different direction. tetsurou did his best to give you your space, but the less he saw of you, the more nervous and frustrated he grew. there was a wrench thrown into his daily routine, and your presence had always managed to bring some peace to him. so when he realized that you had truly abandoned your usual study spot in the library a week and a half later, he set himself on a mission to find out exactly where you were hiding.

it honestly had been sheer luck that he saw your figure ducking around into a hallway he’s never bothered to go down, and by the time he caught up, the door to the graduate resource room had just closed on your and there was no way he could get in without some help. luckily, his mentor who had stayed at the university for their phd was pretty nonchalant about letting him borrow it for a few days, preferring to study at home or in a coffee shop off-campus themselves.

he knew that since you were hiding, you were probably going to be in the most inconspicuous spot possible. so while there was some time dedicated to navigating the new maze of an area, he immediately felt a sense of relief when he saw your back hunched over your notes, hair tied up into a messy bun, and your laptop open with a spotify playlist.

after you’re done reminiscing, you begin to pack your stuff up, opting to just nor respond to tetsurou and ignoring the pleasant sensation that his term of endearment for you brought. he pulls back and stands straight to give you some room, but the tapping of his foot against the tile floor speaks to his blooming agitation at your silence. you’re still wordless as you weave between the shelves to the exit, knowing that the man plaguing your dreams is not far behind. the game of ‘follow the leader’ (or is it ‘cat and mouse’?) continues until you both have exited the main door, and right before you can walk down the granite steps, tetsurou seizes the opportunity to run ahead of you and stand in your way.

“tetsu, please,” you sigh, avoiding his piercing stare by fiddling with the sleeves of your jacket. “is there something you need?”

“you can’t play coy with me,” he chastises, bending down slightly in hopes that you’ll finally look at him. “you know why i’m here.”

it’s a bad habit of yours to nibble on the inside of your lips when you’re searching for the right things to say. tetsurou only picked up on it just last year – the action itself is very subtle to the outside viewer, and he hadn’t been paying close enough attention back then. “don’t bullshit me right now.”

“do we have to do this now?” you whine a bit.

“yes, or else i’m never gonna get you to talk to me. come on, you don’t do this, love.”

“what do you mean?”

“you’re running away. that’s pretty cowardly, don’t you think? you’ve had 3 weeks—”

you start to walk forward and around his tall, lanky figure. “i’m not humoring you with this—”

“with what—”

“—you’re doing that provoking thing, you’re trying to get me to think that i’m wrong in avoiding you—”

“so you have been avoiding me—”

“i said not now!” you protest in a raised voice, path once again blocked. tears of frustration are beginning to build in the corners of your eyes, and you’re cursing yourself for feeling so weak in this moment. part of you wants nothing more than to run into his arms.

it’s dead quiet for a few seconds – the ambient noise of the wind and the occasional passing car this late at night fail to make themselves known over the pounding of blood in your ears. only tetsurou’s first knuckle underneath your chin to raise you up grounds you, and you can no longer avoid his gaze. small crests of guilt wash over you as you recognize the uncharacteristic brokenness in his eyes – the last three weeks must’ve been much harder on him than you thought.

“just hear me out for a few minutes, okay? you can make your decision then.”

he takes your nod as a signal to continue, but also softening a bit at how nervous you look.

“i’m in love with you,” he softly confesses, a smile of defeat gracing his complexion. “and i have been for a while. i don’t think i’m bullshitting when i say i think you feel something for me, too, but i knew it wasn’t in your plans. didn’t wanna push or force you into making a decision when you weren’t ready. so i held back – but i couldn’t help it at the party, and…i’m sorry, love. i really am.”

tetsurou doesn’t miss the flash of hurt that crosses your eyes. “so does that mean you regret it?” you bite out, nails clenching and digging into the fabric of your jacket sleeves. he shakes his head.

“i don’t regret kissing you at all – it’s all i’ve wanted to do for the last two and a half years. but i’m just sorry that i did it without your explicit, sober permission. i went against your wishes in a time of vulnerability, and that’s pretty shitty of me – i’m not gonna excuse myself either just because i was a little drunk, so i hope you’re able to forgive me.”

he watches you sniffle and fight the grin that’s trying to creep across your face. “someone had their shot of respect women juice this morning, didn’t they?” you chokingly tease.

“five shots directly injected into my veins, every morning,” he jokes back, thumb sweeping over to catch your falling tears. “but i mean it though – i’m really sorry.”

“you’re forgiven, and i appreciate that more than you know. but if i’m being honest…it was something i’ve wanted to do for a while, too. i was just really scared because it was so unexpected and i wasn’t sure if i was ready for our relationship to change, or like if i would be emotionally available enough for you, y’know?” you blubber, hand reaching up to rest against his on your cheek.

“hey—”

“i really want this to work out.” tetsurou can hear your voice shake, and he’s sure you’re almost trembling. “you’re one of my best friends – i can’t lose you, tetsu. and what about grad school? what if we end up too far away from each other and video calls aren’t enough? what if you get tired of me or—”

“i know you hate it when i interrupt, but honestly (y/n), you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried. i’m gonna do everything i can to make this work, too, mmk?”

“okay,” you whisper. “okay.”

his thumb gently sweeps back and forth against your cheek for a little bit before speaking up again. “not to ruin the moment, but do i have permission to kiss you now?” his eyes shine despite the midnight sky, and you can’t help the small chuckle that leaves your chest.

tetsurou swears up and down that your kiss in response is much, much sweeter than the one at the party, and he can’t wait to see what the future holds for you two.

#kuroo x reader #haikyuu!!#kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsurou x reader #hq #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo angst #i fully stan the fact that kuroo is highly respectful of anyone and especially women #no one can fight me on this #stay hydrated and get good quality sleep and eat some nutritious food and take your meds!!!

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becausethathappens · 3 years

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@proudmythicalbeast suggested other people give a timeline of their coming out, so here’s mine. hard to condense, but i tried. 😅

we might be the slowest in the alphabet to figure it out, i swear.

1988: born a cisgender* girl.

1992-1997: whenever i play pretend/dress up it’s almost always the male disney characters or zach morris. i’m in love with fox mulder. i want to be dana scully.

1998: i get my first boyfriend. we kiss once, a peck on the lips.

1999: we break-up/we don’t have the same teacher anymore.

2000: i get irrationally angry over how willow’s relationship w/ oz on buffy is abandoned when she goes to college. even moreso when she starts dating a woman and IDing as a lesbian. i don’t bring it up because it makes me feel like a homophobe.

2001: at an all-girls sleepover, i practice kissing with a friend on a dare. i don’t like her, romantically, but it feels great. so i assume kissing guys will be great.

2002: first boyfriend comes out as gay.

2003: close female friend tells me she likes a close male mutual friend during a sleepover at my house. i help initiate a hook-up between the two.

2002-2006: my favorite HS teacher is a butch lesbian sculptor who is in a long-term relationship, drives a harley, and lets us choose the music to listen to in ceramics class. i do an independent study to stay in the class all four years.

2004: close female and male friend break-up. we all drift apart.

2005: i hypothetically consider rooming with a lesbian friend (who i had zero interest in romantically) from HS bc we both got into the same college. when i mention this to my mom she can’t understand how that wouldn’t make me uncomfortable. i literally can’t understand why it would. she point blank asks if i’m gay. i say “sharing a room with a lesbian doesn’t make me a lesbian.” because i like guys and “gay” doesn’t sound like it includes that fact. i get into a dialogue about why assumptions like that are harmful to the gay community.

2006: i hook up with a guy for the first time.

2006-2009: LGBTQIA issues are so important to me it feels overwhelming. i get very political and loud about it, since i’m straight and it’s the least i can do.

2010: that close female friend from HS comes out as a lesbian.

2010: i hook-up with a girl for the first time, casually. she initiates it “for attention” at a party. like a girls gone wild video.

2011: i loudly espouse the concept of a “girl crush” is stupid and if you find people other than men are attractive, you should just say so. that’s what i do. i date men. women are hot. more than one thing can be true.

2011-2014: i fill out “about me” questionnaires online with “mostly straight” because that’s a quick little joke that almost explains it.

2015: i realize that the joke is that i’m already saying i’m not straight. after researching bi/pan and not understanding the difference, i consider it all “too complicated” and leave it be. i like everybody, but probably will marry a guy.

2015: the girl i hooked-up with at a party comes out as a lesbian.

2016: i start discussing things as if i were bi/pan just to see if that makes it simpler. it does. i still refuse to differentiate on a label, because i’m lazy and stubborn and hate TERFs.

2017: i stop filtering how i discuss my interests with family and friends. some ask if i’m gay, i explain. the rest don’t notice. (maybe they’ll figure it out if/when i don’t marry a guy.)

2020: i realize i might also be poly, but it’ll depend on the partner.

2022: i’m extremely bi(gender), too. and probably some variation of ace.

#bisexual #pansexual #about me #long post #personal #this feels so self-indulgent #but i know it could help people #so here we go #✌️#*update: lol nevermind

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lovingmyselfcore · 3 years

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Protect You Chapter IV

Oh my god I did it. I wrote a thing for this thing!! You guys are def getting other writing things from me this week but idk what it'll be bc apparently my brain is god and works in mysterious ways (is that offensive?)

Significant lack of Cardan today and I apologize for that but he will deffo be in the next part (if you've read the end of this then you know)

Chapter IV; Some Attempted Breaking and Entering ft. Nicasia being Nicasia and I hate her :)

“Ow,” I deadpanned.

Oriana looked up at me, mouth pinched at the edges, “Jude.” She had the way of saying my name (always has) that perfectly conveyed her distaste at my existence and scolding me for whatever I had done.

We were in Vivi and I’s apartment, Oriana had me propped on the counter while she adjusted my sling and bandages. Every time she saw the injury she grimaced in disgust, which meant that was her only current expression.

“When Vivi does this it’s much quicker,” I muttered, crossing my ankles and swinging my legs against the counter.

“Well, Vivi has had weeks of doing this for you.” Oriana pulled the bandage tighter and my ‘ow’ wasn’t deadpan anymore.

I didn’t think she was going to speak again but she did, “Training,” She scoffed. “I can’t believe you injured yourself so severely.” She looked up at me, “But at least it wasn’t a gunshot wound. At least your life isn’t as dangerous as that.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. Lying always has been my specialty.

Oriana pressed her lower body into my legs to keep me still against the counter. “Stop banging, you’re going to dent or chip it.”

I rolled my eyes and her grip tightened on my arm before she released me entirely.

“All done.”

I rolled my shoulder as best I could, “Great.”

Oriana stepped back and I hopped off the counter. Grabbing my jacket and slinging it over my available shoulder I called back to Oriana, “I’m going to work, Dain needs me.”

I was two steps from the front door when Oriana caught me by the shoulder. “Tayrn’s engagement party is tomorrow night,” She said it like I hadn’t been thinking about it since it was announced.

“Don’t worry,” I grinned at her, “I’ll be there to make everyone’s life hell.”

~~~~~~~~

“Jude,” Lilliver waved her hand in front of my face. “You’re spacing. Everything good?”

“What? Oh, yeah. It’s just…”

“The party.” Garrett said, matter of factly.

I gave him a look. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Well lucky for you, you’ll be spending the whole time on a job,” Garrett said. Van and Lilliver winced.

“What?” I asked, meeting Garrett’s eyes. He didn’t flinch away from the harsh edge to my voice, the undoubtedly even harsher look in my eyes.

“Dain wanted us to tell you,” Van said, raising his voice as the music caught a crescendo.

We were in some day club that was clearly only for rich people. Sitting at a table tucked in a dark corner, watching as Dain mingled amongst the crowd. Shadows in the shadows, I mused. Weirdly appropriate.

I wasn’t sure who it was, but someone had rented the place and filled it with the highly respected, feared, higher-ups. Dain had heard about the event and invited himself, using the situation to make connections, and further the ones he already had.

He’d dragged us with him, of course. It was 11 at night, I was supposed to be curled on the couch with Vivi, eating ice cream out of the tub and watching Criminal Minds or beating up the punching bag in my room until my knuckles had split, even through the bandages and I couldn’t feel my arms. It depended on my mood.

But Lilliver had called me, said Dain needed his shadows, and that Garrett was waiting outside my apartment building. He had been. I have no idea how he got my address, but I’d refused to let him be my ride. He was too unpredictable, I couldn’t give him that blind faith. So I’d yelled to Vivi that my bike was out of gas and I needed hers and I’d pay her back for the miles, took her keys, and trailed behind Garrett’s car. And now, here we were.

I was nursing a glass of whiskey, mostly to calm my nerves as I followed Dain with my eyes, watching everyone who got too close to him.

“You don’t think anybody would try anything?” I’d asked when I got here, sliding in next to Lilliver in the booth.

“Someone’s done it before.” Van had muttered grimly.

I arched a brow, “What happened to them?”

Van just looked at Garrett, who was eyeing everyone and everything like they all had guns and were about to start shooting people.

I got the message and hadn’t inquired further.

“What does he want me to do?” I asked now.

“Locke’s a friend of Cardan’s.”

“I’m aware.”

Garrett rolled his eyes and I glared at him.

Resting my forearms on the table and leaning forward until I was closer to Van I said, “But Dain isn’t worried about Cardan taking the power, is he?”

“No.”

“But,” Lilliver cut in. “Locke has been seen with Madoc and Balekin. Being with Madoc isn’t that weird-”

“Yes, it is.” I interrupted.

“But Locke is going to be Madoc’s son-in-law. How is that weird?” Garrett asked, tearing his gaze from Dain.

“Madoc hates Locke, he isn’t very happy about Taryn marrying him.”

“For what he did to you?” Van asked.

I snorted, “You’re overestimating him. Nah, he just thinks Locke is a stuck-up prick who doesn’t deserve everything he has.”

“Fair,” Lilliver murmured and I nodded my agreement.

“But Balekin?”

I shook my head, “You don’t know Madoc like I do. If he’s talking to Balekin and it’s not about just security stuff? It can’t be good. Throw Locke into the equation and anything could happen.”

“Great,” Van drawled with an exasperated eye roll.

“So, Jude,” Lilliver asked after a moment of silence. “You have a good outfit, right?”

~~~ A few hours later, I was sitting on my couch, crossing and uncrossing my legs, waiting for Vivi to be finished getting ready.

“Viv!” I yelled.

“Patience is a virtue!” She screeched back from the bathroom.

“Anybody that has time for patience is wasting their life,” I muttered to myself, trying to relax back into the couch unsuccessfully.

I was too stiff all over, shoulders tight, leg muscles straining as I dug the soles of my heels into the carpet as if trying to keep myself on the ground. I curled my fingers into the plush cushion of the couch.

I was wearing a gold dress and matching heels, a small handgun strapped to one thigh, a knife on the other. The slits up the legs of my dress would allow me to retrieve them but kept them hidden enough from prying eyes.

Vivi was taking too long. I rose slowly from my place on the couch and walked to the bathroom. Some Taylor Swift was playing from the Bluetooth speaker perched precariously on the windowsill and Vivi swayed to the beat, slivers of dying sunlight curling in through the window to wind around her gold curls. She was touching up her mascara so she didn’t look at me when I entered.

“I know I’m taking forever, but you should be thanking me for not making you go too early.” I rolled my eyes and leaned against the doorway, not saying anything in response.

Suddenly Taylor’s voice cut off as Vivi’s phone rang. “Can you get that?” She asked me, but I was already reaching for it. I had to twist my arm half under her upper body to get to the other side of the countertop but I eventually reached it and glanced at the caller ID.

“Heather,” I said.

Vivi looked away from the mirror to blink at me and I took that as my cue to answer.

“Hey, Heather,” I said.

“Jude?”

“Yeah. Vivi’s busy being narcissistic so you get to talk to me instead.”

Heather’s laugh sounded like a fairy. “That’s alright, you’re not bad to talk to.”

“Thanks for lying to me,” I replied, leaning against the doorway again. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah. I just knew the engagement party was soon and figured I’d talk to Vi now before she gets too drunk to do anything.” I snorted, “That’s a very fair assessment. We would’ve been at the party already but Vivi is taking forever.” The last word was louder and Vivi stuck her middle finger up at me without even turning to face me.

Vivi finally set down the mascara wand and turned to me with her hands on her hips before making a toddler-esque grabbing motion.

“Well Vivi’s finally done getting ready, but she wants to talk to you.”

Heather snorted, “Nice. Well, have fun at the party, Jude.”

It was my turn to snort.

Heather’s voice got softer, “It’ll all be fine. You don’t have to stay for very long, and maybe you can find something to distract yourself with.” Oh, I have something to do, alright.

“Thanks,” I muttered before handing Vivi the phone. “Hey, baby,” Vivi said immediately and I shook my head. She stuck her tongue out at me before turning away and I took that as my cue to leave the bathroom.

~~~~

I was physically unable to stay still.

Vivi and I didn’t own a real car, so we’d called an Uber, and sitting in the backseat, I was doing everything but stay still. Vivi kept side-eyeing me when she glanced away from her phone, but she hadn’t said anything.

I was bouncing my leg, tapping a rhythm on the door of the car, the seatbelt, the seat below me, my arms.

Vivi paused in her texting, probably to Heather, to clamp a hand on my knee. It didn’t do much to actually stop my movements but it got me to look at her. “Why are you so nervous?”

“I’m not,” I said stiffly and turned away.

Vivi sighed and took her hand off my knee. “You can talk to me, Jude.” She whispered.

I didn’t respond.

~~~

Locke lived in a mansion. I’d been there before but it was still impressive. What took away a bit of that was that I knew he hadn’t worked for it. He was just a rich kid, born and raised. Like all the others that had looked down on me my entire life.

He fit in with Cardan.

Vivi thanked our Uber driver as we stepped out of the car onto the winding stone pathway leading up to the front door.

As the car sped off Vivi linked her arm through mine and yanked me forward to start walking to the door.

“Stop looking at the house like it murdered your cat,” Vivi muttered, her arm tightening briefly around mine.

I tried to school my scowl into something more neutral. It wasn’t easy.

“We’re here for Taryn,” Vivi continued, “You might not even have to see him, or them together at all.”

I nodded mechanically as my eyes drifted to the window on the second floor that I knew belonged to Locke’s bedroom. Would he keep his secrets locked in there? Taryn could get in there, so maybe not, but it was worth a shot.

Some servants pushed open the door to let us inside and Vivi and I froze in the doorway. It looked like some kind of fancy 1800s ball, but with smaller dresses.

“Is that Elowyn?” Vivi whispered. I followed her gaze. It was, indeed, Elowyn Greenbriar in all her glory, perched near a huge window as if preparing to leap out and make a run for it soon. She was eyeing everyone with that look of judgment that seemed to be a Greenbriar birthright, looking more expensive than Locke’s mansion itself.

“I didn’t think she and Locke were that close.”

“It’s not just her,” I realized, as my eyes fell on Cealia, who was worming her way through the crowd of people to reach her sister.

But Vivi had noticed something else. “Nicasia’s here,” She hissed. “And she’s headed this way.”

Vivi and I’s arms were still linked so I tugged lightly and dragged us deeper into the house and crowd of people, effectively disappearing from Nicasia’s line of sight.

I wasn’t ready to deal with her quite yet.

I breathed deeply through my nose and snatched a glass of champagne off a tray nearby, scanning the room.

How could I slip away and snoop without being detected?

“Hey, Jude.” I tightened my grip on my flute of champagne and turned to face Nicasia. Her expression wasn’t pleasant, so I didn’t bother trying to act pleased to see her, either.

“Nicasia,” God. Why did she have to be so pretty, a long, flowing dress that was so many different shades of blue, I couldn’t even count them. It looked like it was tailored to fit her-it probably was, actually. It rippled as she moved, like ocean waves on the shore. Her hair was loose for the most part, aside from a few intricate braids woven in that she had curled around a single finger.

She plucked the champagne from my hand and sipped leisurely. It made my blood boil.

“I figured you’re one of the few people who hates being here as much as I do.”

I grudgingly nodded and her answering grin was sharp.

“Why are the Greenbriars here?” I blurted before I could think better of it.

Nicasia blinked at me before responding. “Because they’re Greenbriars. They do whatever they want when they want.”

It wasn’t a real answer and I had a feeling that she wasn’t just being difficult; she didn’t know, and hated that she didn’t know.

Well, Nicasia and I had something in common.

“Are they all here?” I asked.

She shook her head, “Balekin was here for a total of fifteen minutes before he vanished somewhere,” She gestured vaguely, lips turned down in disgust. “I haven’t seen Dain anywhere, but the girls are here. And Cardan,” She added, pretending like it was an afterthought.

My gaze automatically shot into the crowd, taking note of every face. But none of them were Cardan.

“Do you love Locke?” She asked scornfully.

“Do you?” I shot back, like we were third graders.

She rolled her eyes, “I’d rather crawl naked over glass.”

“Then you have my answer.”

She just looked at me for a beat

Nicasia drained the glass and thrust it back into my hand. She gave me a final judging once over before strutting off in the other direction.

~~~~~~ The next half hour was nothing but mingling; I had to make it clear I was here, that I supported this. After Nicasia had left me alone, I gritted my teeth and dove into the cage of hungry sharks.

I slipped back into the darkness, listened to aristocrats talk to each other, pretending they were all above each other and felt the weight of the gun shifting under my dress; the cold metal pulsed like it was branding me.

I pretended I was one of them; the lies felt warm and comforting on my tongue, honey on a warm summer afternoon.

The realization hit me like a truck: I couldn't entirely blame this on the Shadows' crash course training these past few weeks. I had always had the capacity for this; lying and manipulating and scheming came as effortlessly to me as breathing. I had been born for this. The thought should've been terrifying, but it settled beneath my heart, caged in my ribs with a comforting weight that couldn't be ignored.

“Excuse me,” I murmured and slipped away from the group I’d been attempting to charm.

Balekin hadn’t resurfaced and I wasn’t stupid enough to think he’d left the party entirely so as I slid along the walls of the second floor of Locke’s mansion, I kept my ears and eyes tuned to catch any and all movements.

Locke’s office.

Yes!

I glanced around, feeling like I was in some kind of cliche mafia movie before attempting to turn the door handle. Locked. Okay. Not great. I could work with it though.

Being Madoc’s daughter and Vivienne Duarte’s sister gave me access to an arsenal of weird abilities to use in a pinch.

I reached up to my hair before remembering I didn’t pull it up, so I turned my attention to my clutch, hoping there was a bobby pin or paper clip or something in there.

I’d let my guard down.

I heard his uneven steps coming towards me too late.

“My sweet nemesis,” Cardan slurred. “What do you think you’re doing?” ~~~

Tag List: (Let me know if you want to be added or removed)

@ladyofbloodandroses @cultofvamps @itsmentalbreakdownhours

#protect you au #jurdan #jude x cardan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar

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elmalone · 5 years

Text

hi hunnies, rollin’ in fashionably late here because i had classes and then work whew !! my name’s nova and i’ll be your lizzie malone tour guide today. i’m super stoked for this group holy shit & i’d absolutely love to plot with each one of your babes. i’m also chill af so feel free to slide into my ims anytime !!! xox ok let’s move onto the heaux you’re actually here to read up on. just for funsies: her stats page is here, a regularly updated connections list will be found here, pinterest aesthetic is here, and i slapped together a lil playlist for her right here.

was that ( CAITY LOTZ ) I just saw around the Flower Garden Gated Community? No, it was just ( ELIZABETH MALONE ), the ( THIRTY-FIVE YEAR OLD ) ( CIS FEMALE ) ( POLICE OFFICER ). ( SHE ) has been living in Boston for ( FOURTEEN YEARS ). One thing about them that they wouldn’t want you to know about them is ( SHE RISKED HER CAREER AND REPUTATION BY HELPING A SUSPECT. ). ( ELIZABETH ) can be described as ( ALTRUISTIC & DAUNTLESS ) as well as ( FOOLHARDY & STOIC ) and If you ask them, ( BAD BOYS BY INNER CIRCLE ) would be their anthem.

backstory

born and raised in san diego, california in a middle class family to two loving, devoted parents. her father was the chief of the san diego police department ( now retired ), and her mother was a guidance counsellor at the middle school ( also retired now ). being the eldest, elizabeth was spoiled a wee bit during her early childhood, until victoria was born and then, three years later, alexander was born. with two younger children to eat up her parents’ attention, elizabeth was left to her own devices most of the time, which lead her to mixing in with ‘‘‘‘‘the wrong crowd’’’’’’.

teenage years were wild, she was rebellious. she was an absolute s h i t h e a d as a teen, actually. she’d sneak out in the middle of the night with the boys her parents warned her to stay away from, smoke in the girls’ washrooms at school, used fake ids to purchase booze and get into bars/clubs, vandalized the neighbourhood however she could with whatever she could… girl was a savage. classic defiant party girl is the very essence of her childhood. with her dad being the captain of the sdpd, she found herself being picked up in the wee hours of the morning by the men and women who worked for him. she still remembers the dreaded radio call in they’d make to her dad while she sat in the backseat of the patrol car.

OVERDOSE & DEATH TW; she was headed down a pretty dangerous path, and her parents feared the worst, which would have happened, if it didn’t happen to one of her friends first. elizabeth’s friend had overdosed in the bathroom during one raging party, and by the time anyone stumbled upon him, it was too late. this, of course, traumatized her; shook her to her core and straightened her up real quick. the fact that it could have happened to her was certainly a big awakening for lizzie.

she needed a change, to get away from her home town and the people who knew her for the defiant kid she’d been thus far. elizabeth decided to follow in her dad’s footsteps; she wanted to make a difference and help people, prevent them from making the same mistakes she had, or anything worse. she wanted to serve and protect. so, to start completely fresh, she applied and was accepted to the police academy in boston, where she eventually moved. she’s been living and working in the city for fourteen years now.

wanted connections

sO ya girl’s bisexual; after living in the city for 14 years, it’s safe to say she’s probably had her fair share of relations. most likely a couple exes, which either ended because she’s basically a workaholic OR because she isn’t the best person ever at talking about her Feelings OR she gets freaked out when things get too deep / serious OR a combination of everything ??? lmao yikes give me angst

her Wild Party days might be over, but that doesn’t mean she completely lost her sense of a good time. so if anybody wants a regular drinking bud down at the bar?? lizzie’s here for it. she can be a tough nut to crack, but once she has alcohol in her system, she loosens up.

and on thAT note...... maybe a drunken one night stand would be funny. or it doesn’t even have to be drunken tbh bc she got needs??? that single life gets pretty lonely. fwb, fling, booty call, hook up once and say they’ll never do it again but end up.....doing it again?? somebody love her pls

HER PATROL CAR PARTNER !!!!! can be found on the wc page on the main

possibly someone who either calls in to the department a lot and she’s somehow always the officer who ends up taking the call OR maybe someone who is known to the department ( bad bad ) and she’s dealt with them a few times. she could either sympathize and be trying to help them turn their life around, or they could absolutely despise each other for angsty fun

literally anything !! i’m here for it all, hit me with whatever you could use lizzie for / where she would fit in your character’s life and i’ll be so happy :’)

#bhqintro #overdose tw #death mention tw #this is so bad ugH but im so.....tired

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elijah-hwcng · 5 years

Photo

𝒾'𝓂 𝑔𝑜𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉'𝓈 𝑔𝑒𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 ｃｌｅａｒｅｒ/𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝓂𝓎 𝐻𝒜𝒩𝒟𝒮 ɴᴏᴡ

╰ ☀ ✧ ˖ jeon jungkook. cismale. he/him ‖ 𝕚𝕥'𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕗𝕒𝕦𝕝𝕥 (ɪᴛ ɪꜱ) ‖ have you seen elijah hwang at the beach recently? i remember them being so free-spirited, but they seemed a little neglectful today. it must be tough going through such hard times at only 22. even then, they still remind me of aerosol paint, over-sized hoodies, lipsticks stains on coffee mugs, and open upright pianos.

basics

name: elijah hwang

nicknames: ellie, lijah, el

age: 22

pronouns: he/him

sexuality: he prefers not to label it, but pansexual and demiromantic is probably the best description

tldr

he’s a sweet boy, doesn’t hurt people’s feelings intentionally, but he’s a little flirty, a bit of a heartbreaker. he’s great at turning on the charm but gets flustered very easily when it’s turned back on him.

has a twin brother, daniel. his bio (and their family background!) can be found here

growing up in the shadow of his twin, elijah often acts out rebelliously for attention (and maybe just to spite his perfect police officer brother a little bit)

despite that, he does care very deeply for daniel - after all, they came from the same egg or whatever - and isn’t great at expressing it, but daniel is probably the most important person in his life

tw: drug abuse, gang violence, death

got involved with the wrong crowd shortly after high school - the whole gang, drugs, ‘bad guy, duh’ kinda shebang. he was with this gang for years, getting quite the reputation and a lot of illegal money, tangled with the wrong kind of people and relationships

he traveled a lot, but when he heard daniel and his boyfriend had been jumped, it was a little too coincidental with the gang initiation he knew was happening in the same area - the very initiation he, himself, had approved of

he has never told daniel that he feels responsible for justin’s passing, but he was so filled with guilt that he has since left the gang, lost all his assets, and now works as a stripper to pay off his debts. he has never told daniel about the gang, but he says the debts are from drugs - which isn’t a total lie

(also he’s in a band and plays the keyboard)

bio

alright buckle up lads here comes the details

like i said, family history can be found in daniel’s bio (bc i’m lazy) but - since daniel was obviously their mother, stephanie’s, favourite, elijah often felt inferior and would act out for attention. i’m talking graffiti, being noisy in class, the whole shebang

his other mother, michelle, was obviously his favourite. equally doting to both her sons, elijah adores her and was often glued to her side as a kid. the only time he would obey the rules was when she asked him to listen - if stephanie asked, he would only rebel further

growing up, he and daniel were quite close, even if he did resent his brother for being - well - perfect - but how could he begrudge him for being successful?

elijah didn’t work hard in school - it wasn’t that he couldn’t get good grades, but more that he chose not to, getting grades only good enough that he could stay on the cheerleading squad

NOW LET’S LAY DOWN THE LAW. my mans might be cismale, but he LOVES pretty things. skirts, red lipstick, DANGLY EARRINGS? fam u got it. he loves that pretty shit. cheerleading squad made him wear pants for competitions n stuff but by senior year you know my boy is strutting the hallways in that little cheerleader skirt and pretty pink lipstick. call him a girl tho? he’ll punch u. or his twin will punch u. he’s a boy, thank you very much, and he doesn’t see why boys can’t enjoy pretty skirts and make up too without having to identify as a different gender.

he loves music and art - can play many instruments, and has played the piano since he was little. music and visual arts were the only subjects in school that he excelled in because he enjoyed it so much. he wanted to go to college and study them further, but his grades just weren’t high enough

so, fresh out of high school and not really knowing what to do with his life, elijah could see his brother figuring things out and heading off to the police academy while he... still didn’t know what to do

tw: drug abuse, gang violence, death

had a party phase, hitting up every club he could with his fake ID. it was only inevitable that soon enough he’d get into drugs and - well - with drugs and beautiful men and women, it wasn’t long before elijah found himself involved in a gang with heart eyes for a woman named melanie who showed him the ropes

his role was pretty standard - using his looks and charisma, he quickly became one of their best drug dealers, did a great job swindling thousands of dollars out of other gang leaders and sugar daddies and mommies alike

elijah wasn’t big in the violence side of things, more on the deception and drugs side of it, but he knew that the gang he was in had a lot of that going on. melanie assured him he wouldn’t have to ever kill anyone and she kept to that - although whether or not she did something like that wasn’t something he ever knew. the two of them traveled a lot together with the money he’d gain from their deals, and while they were never exclusive, it was potentially the closest thing to a real relationship he’d ever had

he was in italy when he got the news from daniel, and the timing was too coincidental with the report he’d received from the newest members of the gang. melanie told him he was overreacting - “that’s life, baby boy. your brother is just fine.” - and, seeing her so flippant about it, barely caring that his own brother had been attacked, it finally clicked that his rebellious thing had gone too far, and that this life wasn’t the one for him.

elijah took the first plane back to new york because he knew daniel needed him. the guilt was driving him insane - he knew it was his fault

cradling his broken brother to his chest, elijah made a vow to himself that he could never indirectly cause this to anybody else, but more importantly, that daniel could never, ever find out his involvement with the gang that took so much from him

for the sake of his brother, who he loves so much despite his struggles to show it, he decided to drop the gang, drop the drugs, and do his best to turn it all around

falling for melanie was both a blessing and a curse - if he hadn’t fallen, he probably wouldn’t have been so heavily involved in the gang, but because she had a soft spot for him, she managed to pull some strings and let him leave the gang alive

it cost him all of the illegal fortune he’d made over the years, however, and plunged him into a heavy debt to melanie, which is now why....

𝒴𝒜 𝐵𝒪𝐼 𝐼𝒮 𝐼𝒩 𝒯𝐻𝐸 𝒮𝒯𝑅𝐼𝒫𝒫𝐸𝑅 𝒮𝒬𝒰𝒜𝒟

since college still wasn’t an option, and now he had experience with using his looks and charisma to swindle money, elijah figured stripping wasn’t all too different

he knows his twin would give him the money if he told him he was in debt and in need of it, but to tell him, he’d have to admit of all the illegal activity he’d been involved in and admit to his role in justin’s passing - not to mention he knows daniel would have to throw him in jail if he knew that he’d been doing more a lot more than just drug dealing

instead, he tells his brother he strips because it’s fun and to get enough money to do an entrance exam and try out the whole college thing one day and that he has a slight debt from the drugs but he’s “almost done paying it”

as well as this, elijah is the keyboardist in the band killer nuns, and is happy to at least still be doing music

he still likes to wear pretty things, although he tends to prefer jeans these days, but will still wear pretty crop tops, dangly jewelery, and make up. if he feels like dressing up, out comes the silky skirts and dresses!

(and he still graffitis his art all over buildings illegally, but he knows his twin will bail him out every time)

wanted connections

first of all, if you made it this far, congrats! let’s get to business B)

roommate; ya boy is ,, broke . he can’t always meet the rent but he doesn’t mind paying your character back in less conventional ways. he would ask his twin for money, but he doesn’t want daniel to know he’s struggling financially (taken: isaac lee)

good influence; your character knows elijah is only rebellious because he feels attention-starved - with patience and affirmation, they remind him of his favourite mother and can often convince him to tone things down

partner-in-crime; this person is a free spirit, and the two of them get into all kinds of mischief, whether it’s spray painting a building or dabbling in those drugs he decided to leave behind (taken: isaac lee) (but -- would be open to ONE more partner in crime if u rly liked the sound of it uwu)

regular client; your character knows elijah is only flirty for the money, yet finds themselves coming back every time for another taste

tutor; look... my mans out here tryna get into college. he won’t admit it but he wants to make his brother proud. help a brutha out. tutor him so he doesn’t fail his entrance exams. pls. (taken: yeri song)

gym buddy; lmao a stripper gotta stay in shape somehow man

dress up buddy/platonic wifey; note: this is a connection specifically for a female character! there is ZERO sexual desire here despite the constant “when we’re 30, we’re gonna get married and make some babies” jokes and ocassional ass-grabbing. they’re comfortable af w each other. she helps him with his make up and they go shopping together and give each other cute little fashion shows in their new pretty clothes. she’s affectionately named ‘wifey’ in his contacts list and it’s not uncommon for elijah to give her a chaste kiss in greeting and say ‘honey, i’m home’. they’ve probaly considered hooking up before but figured things would be weird and that they’re better off as friends.

hook-ups; he’s demiromantic, so he’s not gonna get a crush easily, but he likes sex and he likes pretty people so . have at him ;)

#bio #tsunamintro

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1nkweaver · 5 years

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PICK N OPAL!!! 1- What happens when your character doesn't get what they want? 2- How well can this character resist their emotions and impulses? 3- If the character were to come face to face with their darkest fears in a nightmare, what would they see? 4-Do they prefer sweet, salty, sour, meaty, spicy, or neutral tastes? 5- whats their feelings on the groups their with lately?

1- What happens when your character doesn't get what they want?

Opal: It really depends on what it is tbh. Opal will either let it go immediately, or he’ll keep pushing subtly, or he’ll have a “do it yourself” attitude to it. If it’s some kind of divine plan thing, he’s -going- to make it happen, that’s the long and short of it.

Pick: He probably just whines really XD but if he’s not getting what he wants because his opinion or thought process is like being put down then he’ll get aggressive. He really buts heads with people on moral issues and developing plans because I think he thinks that you should always debate every possibility.

2- How well can this character resist their emotions and impulses?

Opal is stoic as fuuuuuck man...it’s hard to really feel like he -has- impulses, but I definitely want him to almost be like -TOO- in control of his emotions. Yknow, like seeing your church get destroyed with your people inside it and seemingly not reacting super duper hard, just kinda...staring at it. (Yeah Baughn, that’s basically what he did when that happened do you feel bad?)

Pick is very emotional on the other hand. He tries so desperately to think about what would Anders do because he always felt Anders was smart, but Anders almost always acted on his feelings, and he instilled that in Pick a bit. Pick thinks first with his gut, then with his heart, and last with his brain- but he uses all three. Goblin nature in my mind is to be very id driven, so he very often just -goes- with his instincts and feelings, he doesn’t question them bc he feels that’s the truest part of himself.

3- If the character were to come face to face with their darkest fears in a nightmare, what would they see?

Opal dreams of building something, and while those things have been destroyed before and he’s had to start over, there has always been a sense of rebuilding. Opal’s worst nightmare would be that sense of total defeat- he’s dying, his friends are dying around him, and everything he built is being destroyed in one fell swoop. It’s kind of dramatic but Opal doesn’t really think about things on a personal level, his worst nightmare is being there for the end of the world.

Pick’s nightmare is a lot more real and personal. He’d be back in a place he was before. A place with music, and laughter, and a lot of voices...and he’s looking at it while either standing over a corpse, or looking out from between bars.

4-Do they prefer sweet, salty, sour, meaty, spicy, or neutral tastes?

Opal definitely has a sweet tooth- I remember in waterdeep he had the equivalent of fish and chips and he found it..interesting but strange. I must imagine he loves things like custard and candied apples and the like, probably caramel too, things of that nature would really make him feel happy.

Pick eats a lot of things so he has a really expanded palette, I mean the guy will eat garbage. I think it’s partially goblin instinct to like salty and meaty things, like gamey raw meat and stuff like that. But I also personally think that now, especially with the gourmand feat, that he has a real big love for spicy. Not necessarily spicy hot (though he’d love that) but spicy flavorful, like with indian food and the like. Just really powerful flavors.

5- whats their feelings on the groups their with lately?

The Opal of Waterdeep has developed very slowly, I last left off with a month long timeskip while we rebuilt trollskull manor. He thinks that he can help them, but he needs their help too, and he’s been learning their secrets and keeping his close. I remember I wrote out a whole speech for Opal because he believes he got one of the characters backstories figured out, and meant to confront them about it.

Opal of Avisten is a little bit different- he’s older, wiser, but more grizzled and lives in a more dangerous uncivilized world. It was his plan to actually assemble the party itself, he gathered these people and chose them individually for a reason. They are his people, they are his flock. I hate to use the religious allegory but Opal sees himself as the “jesus” figure and all of the rest of the party are his “apostles”. Maybe they’ll listen to him, maybe they’ll betray him. But they’re all integral to each other and they all have something that Opal needs to do for them, and they will do something in return for Opal. Deep down they are good people, flawed people, but they need each other. As Ida would say they are twisted.

Picks ideas on the party are...complicated, a lot now, like a lot. Let’s break it down:

Jin- The first person he met, didn’t think much of him at all. A very typical roguish type- talks a lot, not a lot of wit, good with his fingers, a himbo. They’re fast “friends” but Pick really wants a rivalry. Jin is proving to be more than what he appeared, smart, multifaceted. Pick still thinks he’s “better” but he thinks Jin is also necessary. The first person Pick would call a friend. Jins sexual advances make Pick confused and uncomfortable. Pick wishes that Jin would be more real- he saw Jin having his nightmare and associates strongly with him. Pick wants to be able to “hash it out like dudes” but Pick is not one for heavy drinking or drugs or sex. He’s not about to bond and tell sad backstory over getting drunk, which he thinks is the main way that it would come out of Jin. He kinda also wants to see Jin angry, because he thinks that Jin is closing that off too. He thinks Jin is being friendly but he isn’t being “real” with him, which is ironic because Jin is very “down to earth, says it like it is” kind of dude...but he’s not -really- doing it. He’s not being -really real- with Pick right now, which is fine, it’s not the time for it. But can they just have a real conversation? Please?

Kai- Technically the second person that Pick met after Jin. Strange, youthful nature, naive, good heart. The kind of person you call kid and ruffle up his hair. A tiefling- weird, foreign, strange. The thing Pick honestly doesn’t understand at this point is why the fuck does everyone baby this kid. Yeah he gets scared but that’s a good thing- and hello don’t know if you realized it but Kai is stronger than most of you. Where Pick sees others trying to protect Kai’s innocence, Pick sees someone that needs to be seriously trained if he’s staying in this group. Stop babying him and show him how to properly use his sword. Don’t keep him away from things that give him fear, show him how to kill his fears. Pick doesn’t consider Kai a friend, but he considers Kai the “goodest” person of the group. Pick sees Kai as someone who by every right should turn to evil and is choosing to do good, instead of someone who was just born good and did what was expected of him.

Aspasia- Strange, strange woman. Strong, obviously- but out of place. Why is she here? Why is she connecting with these people. There is a mind behind that muscle that is being ignored- and god Aspasia is literally always thinking about other things. Pick initially thought Callie and Aspasia were lovers- he’s still not really sure? But apparently Sia also is loosy goosy with Jin, he doesn’t understand their friendship at all. Pick and Aspasia haven’t spoken but he feels an unspoken energy between them. Their desire to fight, and OOC I know if they talked their goals would align more strongly than anyone else’s in the group so far. Pick thinks Aspasia needs to speak the fuck up with her words more than her muscles as of late because she’s not talking.

Ida- The absolute largest conflict of interest all in one person. Ida both reflects things that Pick severely, severely hates in this world, while at the same time being the one that most accurately reflects Anders as a person, the person Pick respects the most. This has led to a very very difficult understanding of Ida in Pick’s eyes. Pick hates Ida, he hates that she’s so nice, self sacrificing, puts herself down, acts like the mom, and he hates clerics. He doesnt’ think she deserves to be lied to however. He may hate a lot of the things that Ida represents, but not a single person in the party has Picks -respect- besides her. Pick was going up that hill, and everyone could have yelled at him to turn back and he would not have, the only person that could (and did) convince him in that moment was Ida. Pick will argue with any member of this party but in the end he will do what -Ida- says to do. That’s what she deserves. Not his kindness, not his love or admiration or friendship, but his respect. He’s respecting her because she right now is the closest thing to Anders. And damn if Pick hates that.

Callie- Quiet, curious, Callie. Pick thought her and Aspasia were lovers, he’s still not really sure, but their inseparable nature reminds him of him and Anders- he would never get in between them. Except...for the fact that for whatever reason he fancies Callie. It might be just because she’s someone he can literally talk eye to eye with, but there’s more than that. He appreciates that she doesn’t have to talk a lot, he finds her care for animals endearing even if he’s afraid of horses, and her abilities in combat are varied. Her use of magic frightens him, but she’s hard to read. He does straight up find Callie cute, attractive. In a way that he hopes isn’t creepy he likes...holding her hand and stuff? He thinks she’s very soft, he sees a kind of...goblin nature inside of her? Kinda like a little flame of passion that she keeps really really well hidden- but her understanding of nature, her “going off alone” ness..very goblin like and that draws him to her, and then she doesn’t have a goblins (admitedly, freakish) outward appearance. He likes her a lot, he’s sad that she seems to pull away so often, he blames himself..? Wants to find a way to get through to her. Now that Callie has a wolf Picks childhood dream of being an Outrider was reawakened.

Siril: Big man. Pick does not understand why the hell Siril is here at all. He is by far probably the most out of place person in the group in Picks first impressions, but he’s sticking around. He has been wanting to have an actual just good old getting to know you talk one on one with Siril since the very beginning just based on the fact that he’s interesting! Pick has never seen a Firbolg before, they’re so -different- as people and Pick is totally okay with that! He wants to talk about it! He thought maybe on that watch that they had together last game they’d finally talk but it seems that they most likely spent it in silence. Seeing Siril go from really aggressive to Jin to almost warming up to him, as well as warming up to Sia...hurt Pick a little. Not necessarily as jealousy, but perhaps something similar. Pick thought they had a lot in common, they were the new guys to the group and in Picks opinion he thought they were really the “freaks”. They’re the weird races, and he just feels like he’s...missed out on a shot. He thinks Siril doesn’t really find him interesting and he really can’t place a finger on it but ever since he came to the party Pick wants to impress Siril. That’s why he gave him space when it was clear he was annoyed, that’s why he went along and did as much work on the murder case as he could, it’s why he -went- with Siril to see the widow and gave her all his gold. It’s why when Pick was asked by Siril if he was a good person Pick gave him a truthful answer of “you are useful” because truth is what Pick gives to people that he feels are deserving of a harsh answer. He thought they’d talk more since then and they really haven’t, and Pick wonders if all that time trying to impress Siril was for naught, he really doesn’t have the emotional maturity to figure out why he’s feeling what he’s feeling, but he just has those base feelings. Does he “like” Siril, is he “attracted?” He doesn’t know how to process that, but he had an instinctual desire to impress him, to be seen as useful or interesting to him, and seeing him bond with other people that Pick wasn’t expecting him to (ie, not me, the other “freak”) he feels...hurt by it.

#character questions #Pick #Opal #dnd #biteythevillain

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kootenaygoon · 5 years

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So,

Cold tears lingered on my cheeks as we hiked downhill through ankle-deep snow, icy wind gusting up from Kootenay Lake and flowing full in our faces. We trudged from one streetlight to the next, squinting into the swirling darkness, lurching unsteadily. There were four or five of us migrating from a house party further up the hill, and none of us were dressed for this sudden blizzard. Paisley had me around my hips as she took careful steps down the sidewalk, and I pulled my coat tighter around my face. I’ve always been a wuss when it comes to winter, having grown up on the west coast, and I was contemplating a U-turn towards home—it was almost midnight and I knew Muppet and Buster were waiting to be cuddled.

Since the beginning of our relationship neither Paisley or I had done much partying, as we’d settled into an increasingly cozy home life, but over Christmas we found ourselves navigating increasingly bombastic social scenarios that left us feeling like clueless ancients. Before we’d been feeling bored and under-stimulated, staying home all the time to order takeout and re-watch the Harry Potter series, but now we had the opposite problem—we were scrambling to keep up. As we crossed through the final intersection and rounded down to Front Street I wondered if there was anything at this upcoming party that could compare to luxuriating in a hot bath.

“I’m starting to ponder the nature of suffering here,” I said. “I’m like one minute away from dying in a snowbank.”

“We’re almost there,” yelled back our friend Caelynn. “It’s right up in that building, the Hall Street Emporium. Like only two blocks further.”

“The party’s in that building? The one with the new pot dispensary?” I asked.

“Yeah, he’s the one that’s putting it on.”

“Who?”

“The main grower, Niles. Apparently he’s handing out a bunch of free weed.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“That’s what my friend texted. She said there’s like 50 people there.”

I’d been keeping a close eye on the cannabis scene since the municipal election, but hadn’t actually pulled the trigger on any Star stories after the pushback I received from management over the Sensible BC thing. I didn’t want to come off to the community as overzealous, too pot-friendly, but marijuana seemed like the main Nelson story that wasn’t being told. There was a long-standing culture of silence around the controversial plant, of secrecy, but with legalization coming I felt like it wasn’t necessary for everyone to hide anymore. Paisley and I had checked out the new place a few weeks earlier, when gossip reached us, and we’d been surprised by how amateur the operation was. It was being run by a 24-year-old former forest fire fighter named Marv, and he’d essentially dragged a glass countertop into an empty room devoid of decorations and proceeded to sell weed and a variety of edibles to whoever walked through the door—he didn’t even check for ID.

I figured it was only a matter of time before the police intervened.

“That guy Marv is such a heat score,” I said. “It’s like he’s daring the police to raid him.”

“What are they gonna do?” Caelynn asked, defiant. “It’s gonna be legal in like a year anyways, right? Fuck those pigs.”

“They may not be able to do anything right now, but he’s still going about this the wrong way.”

“What’s the right way, then?”

“People appreciate some professionalism. I mean, once legalization comes everything’s going to be so different, above board, and there’s not going to be room for people like him.”

“You wanna put money on that?”

I thought about it for a second. “I bet you 50 bucks he’s shut down within three months.”

Caelynn smiled. “Three months from today? 50 bucks? I’ll shake on that.”

A few minutes later we reached the party, and noisily banged the snow off our boots as we entered the building. The first thing I saw was a baby, unattended, crawling across the floor. Mounted speakers blared Shambhala-style EDM, there was a table crowded with ravaged grocery store appetizers, and a whole variety of bongs and smoking apparatuses surrounding a trio of leather couches. In the corner was a pile of air filtration tubing, attached to a heavy-looking appliance the size of a dishwasher, but none of it was turned on. Marv was drunkenly circling the party, taking pictures, and wasn’t wearing a shirt. He was scrawny to the point of looking emaciated, and his thin moustache was dusted with white powder. He careened across the room to embrace Caelynn, then fished a joint out from his toque and held it out in my direction.

We lit it.

“Newspaper dude,” he said, taking a toke. “You’ve got a pretty fucking cool job.”

“It’s Will, and this is my partner Paisley.”

“Your partner?”

“I always hated the term ‘girlfriend’, and we’re not married, so…”

“You are fucking beautiful,” Marv said, as he shook her hand. “Don’t mind me, I’m really fucking high right now. I’m actually totally harmless.”

Paisley laughed uncomfortably. “It’s all good. Thanks for having us.”

“It’s not me, man. It’s all Niles. Have you guys met Niles yet?” he asked, his eyes darting. “He organized this whole shindig, he’s the guy. Hey Niles, Niles! Come here, man.”

Niles shook his head apologetically to the people he was standing with, then sauntered over. He was in his early fifties, with a Swayze-esque mane of golden hair, wearing a baby blue suit. His walnut brown tan made his eyes seem supernaturally white, his golden bowtie was comically oversized, and he even kept a chained watch in his side pocket. It almost looked like he was in costume, like he could be tea partying with the Mad Hatter himself.

“The Kootenay Goon,” Niles said. “It’s an honour. I’ve been reading your stuff for months now, wondering when I would get the chance to meet the new shit disturber in town.”

I shook his hand, half-standing from the couch. “Yeah, shit disturber’s about right.”

“And here we have your lady love—Paisley, right?” he said, turning to her. “That was one of the first articles I read by you, Goon, the column you wrote about her. I remember thinking: ‘people should write about love in the newspaper more often’! I thought ‘when was the last time you saw someone fill two pages of a community newspaper with an ode to his girlfriend?’ I find kids think it’s cool to be nonchalant these days, to never emotionally commit to anybody or anything, and I ask you: what ever happened to true romance?”

Niles sunk down on the couch beside us, crossed his legs and began bouncing his foot in the air. Paisley and I shared a quick glance, acknowledging his Shakespearean flamboyance with secret smirks. He took a few tokes from the joint and passed it to Paisley, then draped his elbow on my shoulder. There was an instant familiarity there, a comfort level I wouldn’t typically have with a stranger, and pretty soon our conversation had veered into philosophical territory. He asked me if I believe in pure, unadulterated love. Did it really exist?

I sat forward, tugging at my beard thoughtfully. “For me, there’s just so many things I’ve lost faith in — like I used to be a hyper-Christian teenager and then I ditched on the whole God thing — and love, like human love, is one of the last things I actually believe in, you know?”

“You were a Christian kid?”

“Totally. Worked at a Bible camp in the summers, did missionary trips, the whole deal.”

“And what ended things for you?”

“My youth pastor was arrested for molesting a teenage boy down in Mexico, summer of 2005, during a missions trip. He was a father figure to me, so I started questioning: if I can’t trust him, and he taught me about God, then how can I trust what I know about God?”

“What a funny word, God.”

“I thought you guys would get along,” said Marv, stumbling off. Niles whipped over to a nearby fridge and returned with three beers. We clinked them together and took long pulls as a handful of party-goers began to dance around us. I felt a pleasant heat in my eyeballs. It was starting to get crowded, and loud.

“The vision I have for this place, Goon,” Niles said. “This wouldn’t just be a dispensary. It would be a smoking lounge, a social club … I was thinking maybe massages too, like a spa. Maybe a counsellor, mental health coach, that sort of thing.”

“I’ve heard that there are multiple new ones getting ready to open. The Green Rush, they’re calling it.”

“Yeah, but everyone’s too chickenshit to pull the trigger because they don’t know which way city hall will swing. They let Phil run his club because he keeps things below the radar, but nobody’s really tried strutting out into the light with their balls out yet.”

“Well, except for you.”

He smiled humbly.

“Well, Deb Kozak’s supposed to be more pot-friendly than Dooley,” I said. “That could make a difference in how things go down.”

He sighed. “They’re all the same. All three of them. There was no real choice there. It’s not about their opinions on cannabis, or their public stances or whatever. At the end of the day it’s about the money, and when the time comes they’re going to want their cut. Doesn’t matter who’s sitting in the big seat. They’re all so full of shit.”

He paused for a moment to take a thoughtful pull from his beer, then continued.

“I mean I’ve lived here since 1976, and there’s never been an honest politician in this town. Not once. They’re all lizard-fucking slime bags, all of them dirty in one way or another. You can’t trust a single word they say, remember that. It’s all the same pablum bullshit they’re force-feeding everybody. They say they’re going to act, they have all kinds of pretty words, but what do they actually do? What do they actually accomplish?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

After chatting intensely for twenty minutes, Niles circulated off to the rest of the party and Paisley and I found ourselves awkwardly clutching our half-finished beers. Caelynn pulled up a chair, sat down on it backwards, and we re-started an earlier debate on the moral standing of Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer. I engaged hard. Paisley put her head on my shoulder and we accepted another joint that was being passed around, sitting comfortable in the rolling fog of bong smoke. My consciousness began to fuzz.

“Oh, I love him,” I heard Paisley say. “What’s his name?”

I tried to locate my partner, distinct amidst the chaos of bodies around me. There were lots of colours. She was down on one knee, laughing, as a German shepherd took happy tongue swipes at her face. Brutus. I looked beyond her to where Snapper stood, leash in hand, wearing a sleeveless jersey that nearly reached his knees. He said something to Paisley, and she said something back, while I tried to maneuver into a standing position. I tried to take a swig of my beer but found it empty. When did that happen?

“Oh, that was tragic,” said Blayne, appearing beside me. She was wearing a bright red jumper, and had her hair braided into pigtails. “You should’ve seen the look of disappointment on your face.”

I smiled. “All these beers keep ending up empty.”

“Funny how that works.”

“I was just heading over to rescue my partner from Snapper before you showed up.”

“Oh, come on. He’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad?” I laughed, and then I doubled over and laughed some more. “Not that bad! Not that bad!” I knew my reaction was disproportionate, maybe nonsensical, but it was just one of those evenings. Blayne had her hand on my shoulder, trying to pull me back under control, and she was laughing now too — but she was laughing at me, laughing.

“You can be kind of an asshole, huh?” she said.

“I’ve made peace with that, yeah.”

“What’s Snapper ever done to you?”

I looked over to where he was chatting with Paisley. I didn’t like how close he was standing to her. She glanced over and made eye contact with me, then looked away again. I’ve never been a particularly possessive boyfriend, but something told me I needed to keep her away from him specifically. I turned to find Blayne blinking up into my face, because I’d failed to answer her.

“He hasn’t done anything to me, I just don’t like his energy.”

“He’s actually a really generous person. You guys could be friends, if you gave him a chance. You’d just have to stop being such a fucking snob.”

“I’m not a snob.”

“No? What are you then?”

Blayne and I sat back down on the couch, still bickering. Dru and Cy were sitting on the couch opposite from us, hand-rolling cigarettes on the coffee table. The music had a pulse, like a heartbeat, and I felt time melt. What was this sensation? I lifted my hands and marvelled at how the blood pulsed into my fingertips. My gaze settled on a dude wearing a psychedelic hoodie, on the sunburst erupting from his armpit. Wow. A woman walked by with a toddler on her hip, her billowing brown hair interlaced with red highlights, beads and little scraps of leather. I wondered what was going on in the minds of these strangers, if they were experiencing a fraction of what I was. This was one more moment, in this interminable line of moments, and who could say if it was any more special than any other? I wondered if anyone else were to tell a story about this moment, would it be different? What were they feeling, what did they see?

The Kootenay Goon

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