#speaking from personal experience at some kid i sent a genuine nice message to about how their art is really nice and they're talented

[copiasass]

yeah i would highly suggest just straight up blocking minors if you're an adult in this fandom, will save you a lot of headaches later on

[storiesforallfandoms]

small world ~ corpse husband

word count: 2053

request?: yes!

“Can I get a Corpse x fem reader where reader an corpse are both streamers and they meet each other for the first time and realize they used to know each other as kids? I know Corpse has said that he didn’t have many friends when he was younger so maybe have it where reader was someone that was really nice to him? Sorry for the long request and thank you if you do it! 😊🖤”

description: he never would’ve thought that the new addition to their friend group would be someone from his past

pairing: corpse husband x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

“Hey Corpse,” Karl said. Corpse hummed in response, focused on the drawing he was doing for their Jackbox game. “(Y/N) is also from San Diego. Do you know her?”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Karl, San Diego is pretty big. We’re not bound to know one another. Besides, just because he lives here doesn’t mean he grew up here.”

“I did grow up in San Diego actually,” Corpse said. “I don’t think we would’ve known each other though. Even if we happened to be in the same area, I didn’t talk to many people and I dropped out in the seventh grade.”

“I was, regrettably, popular in school,” (Y/N) added.

“Regrettably?” Karl asked.

“Yeah. Looking back, I hated being popular. I hated it when I was popular even. My friends were mega jerks and made fun of everyone, even me sometimes. I would try and make them be nice but they just let the popularity go to their heads. I haven’t spoken to any of them since we graduated. There was this sort of outcast in middle school I used to have a crush on. I tried to be friends with him, but he preferred to keep to himself. I always wished I had been friends with him because I feel like I would’ve been so much happier. I never saw him again either. I wonder whatever happened to him.”

Something about her story triggered a memory in Corpse. The year before he dropped out, there was a girl in is class who was always nice to him and tried to talk to him. He brushed it off as another way he was being made fun of. When it kept up, though, he realized she was likely being genuine. He still kept his distance, but he found himself gaining some feelings for her as well. When he dropped out, he never heard from her again.

I wonder where she is now, Corpse thought to himself. Man, what was her name?

Corpse accidentally gasped, drawing the attention of everyone in the Discord call.

“You good Corpse?” George asked.

“Y-Yeah,” Corpse responded. “Just uh...just realized I fucked up my idea a bit. No big deal, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

The game started prompting for everyone to show what they had created. Taking the opportunity of not having to speak, Corpse went to Google (Y/N)’s YouTube channel. She had come into the game as a friend of Karl’s and Corpse hadn’t heard of her channel, but now somethings were starting to click together.

The first thing that popped up with the top Google Image for (Y/N)’s channel name. It was a beautiful girl laying in a garden of flowers with a wide smile on her face. Corpse sucked in a breath as he realized that the girl in the picture looked familiar.

“Corpse,” came Karl’s voice, snapping Corpse out of his trance. “It’s your turn.”

“Sorry,” Corpse said. “I was distracted.”

The rest of the stream Corpse felt like he was in a daze. He continued to play the games and forced out laughs when he realized someone was making a joke. Every time (Y/N) spoke, he felt his heart flutter with excitement. He couldn’t believe that after all these years he had finally been reunited with her. And what was better was that she had actually admitted to having feelings for him too!

Don’t get too excited, he thought to himself. She said she used to have a crush on you. That was a very long time ago.

He tried not to seem too eager when the stream finally ended. He waited for someone else to leave the call first before he exited out of it himself. He waited another few minutes before messaging (Y/N) directly on Discord.

hey. it was fun playing with you tonight. weird request, but can we voice call maybe? just the two of us?

Corpse didn’t expect her to respond any time soon. It was late in San Diego, like nearly 3am late. Most people were going to bed by now. She had mentioned once during the stream that she was starting to get sleepy. He figured she’d see it in the morning and either call, or just ignore the message.

To his surprise, near seconds later, she was calling him.

“Hey stranger,” she said when he answered. “Long time, no speak. You must’ve missed my voice a lot, huh?”

Corpse chuckled. “Exactly, I really did.”

“Makes sense. I do have the best voice on the internet.” She laughed this time. It sounded like such a perfect sound. “For real though, is everything alright? Why did you want to call?”

How did he even tell her? Hey, so you know that outcast you liked? It was me! Surprise!

No, he couldn’t say that. Maybe she wouldn’t even remember, or maybe she wouldn’t believe him. He had to figure out some way to bring it up.

“I kind of wanted to talk more about your popular school days,” he said, trying to keep his voice light and teasing. “It’s not every day I meet a streamer who’s in my own area code. It would be nice to get to know someone who isn’t like a five hour drive away.”

“Oh!” She seemed excited by this response. Her excitement was almost contagious. “Okay, where should I start? The shitty friends or the shallow popularity?”

Corpse chuckled. “You pick.”

She talked for nearly an hour about her high school experiences with her popular friend group. Despite how much she despised being popular, (Y/N) still spoke with a light tone in her voice. She tried to bypass a lot of the more negative details and speak only of the good experiences she went though, which was nice to hear.

Corpse nearly jumped with excitement when she began to talk about middle school unprompted.

“It really was the last good years I had in school,” she admitted. “All my friends, the ones who went on to be super popular with me, they were nice then. Annoying, but all middle schoolers are. We didn’t care about popularity or social rankings. We were just...we were just kids. We didn’t even really know the difference between ‘losers’ and ‘popular’, which was why it was so easy for me to talk to that guy that I liked at the time. My friends weren’t mocking me for having feelings for an outcast.”

“You said you never saw that guy again,” Corpse said. “Do you know what happened to him?”

She sighed heavily. “No, I don’t. He just stopped showing up before we hit high school. I thought he moved, but I knew his mom and I saw her around everywhere. I don’t even remember his name anymore to look him up. Wherever he is, though, I hope he’s doing better. Even if they weren’t sucked completely into their popularity at the time, my friends and the other kids were still awful to him.”

“I feel that,” he said. “I wasn’t exactly the most liked kid in school. Before I dropped out I didn’t even have any friends.”

“That’s awful.”

“It wasn’t too bad. I’m not really a friendly person I don’t think. I’ve worked on it since that time, but the thought of trying to maintain a social relationship still gives me anxiety from time to time. There was one girl who tried to be friends with me the year before I dropped out though. She was nice.”

“What happened to her?”

Corpse smiled to himself. She would figure it out soon, he knew she would.

“I just didn’t hear from her after I dropped out,” he responded. “I guess that’s mainly my fault. I never reached out to her or anything, but I barley knew her name. Just her first time, and she never gave me a number or anything. I couldn’t look her up online. Maybe we just weren’t destined to be together.”

“I don’t know about that. Maybe you two were just right people, wrong time. Maybe you’ll cross paths again and finally have that opportunity to be friends with her again.”

“Maybe you’ll cross paths with that guy from your middle school, too.”

There was a prolonged silence. Corpse wondered if (Y/N) was starting to put the pieces together. He could barley even hear her breathe. The longer she went, the more worried he was becoming. He was about to say something when she finally spoke again.

“I made him a Valentine,” she said, her voice soft. “Special handmade one. He was the only one I gave it to. It had some really badly written, sappy poem in it. I watched him open it and...I really think he got emotional while reading it. Of course, he’d never tell anyone that.”

Corpse had gotten emotional over the Valentine (Y/N) had given him. It was the first real Valentine he had ever gotten. It wasn’t one of the generic ones that everyone gave out to every classmate so no one felt excluded. It was made from the heart, and that fact alone touched his. Like (Y/N) said, though, he didn’t let anyone know how emotional he had gotten. It would’ve just been more mental ammo for them to use to bully him.

He quickly got up from his chair, racing to his room where he had his box of memories shoved in his closet. It was little things from throughout his life that he kept in a shoebox. Whenever he felt particularly down or depressed, he would open the shoebox and look at all the things that made him smile.

At the very top of the box was (Y/N)’s Valentine.

He went back to his computer and took a picture of the Valentine using his phone.

“That sounds really nice,” he said as he went into the Discord app on his voice. “It must’ve meant a lot to him that you put so much time and effort into a handmade gift.”

“I don’t know if it did. I never got to ask him what his reaction was.”

“Oh, I’d bet anything he was happy.”

He sent the picture through Discord and waited for (Y/N) to open it. The silence between them felt deafening. The seconds felt like they had slowed to hours. He wondered what (Y/N)’s reaction would be. Maybe she’d be weirded out by the fact that Corpse kept the Valentine, or by the fact that Corpse was the middle school crush in general.

What if she’s upset that this is who I am now? he asked himself. What if her crush was just a middle school thing, and the moment you dropped out she moved on?

“I knew it.”

Corpse couldn’t help the smile on his face when he heard the slight excitement in (Y/N)’s voice.

“I knew it was you!” she continued. “Well, I didn’t know know, but when you asked me to call you I had a bit of a suspicion. I can’t believe it...it’s actually you!”

“It is me,” he confirmed. “And it’s you.”

“Small world we live in, huh?”

“Yeah, small world.” Do you still like me? Did you ever stop? Do you know that your kindness stuck with me for so long?

The silence returned. Corpse was starting to get sick of it, but he didn’t know how to fill the void between them. When he heard her yawn, he realized how late it had gotten. “I’ll let you go, you sound tired.”

“We just had this breakthrough and you’re asking me to sleep?!”

Corpse chuckled. “You have to sleep eventually, (Y/N). It’s like 3:30am, normal people sleep at this hour.”

“I am offended you would think I’m anywhere near normal.” She yawned again, cutting off her short lived rant. “But you’re right, I am tired. Listen...promise me you’ll answer when I call tomorrow. I...I’d really like to catch up. Maybe...to pick up where we left off.”

“Okay,” Corpse said, then realized that wasn’t really a response. “I promise. I’ll be waiting by the phone the moment I open my peepers.”

(Y/N) giggled. “I’ll be sure to call you the moment I open mine.”

“Goodnight (Y/N). Sleep tight.”

“Goodnight Corpse underscore Husband.”

kind of a bad ending, but i wasn’t really sure where else to go with it as i wrote it. sorry! :(

[mytwinklelights]

A Reunion - Part 1 | Peter Parker x Stark! GN Reader

A/N: Remember over a month ago when I wrote this preview and didn’t post again? Oops sorry, I had to take a little break from tumblr because I was reading way too much fanfic. But now I’m back, just to post, still no reading for a while! Umm but yeah, here’s the first part! I can’t guarantee when part 2 will be posted but it’ll definitely be within the next 2 weeks! I hope you like it, please let message me with any feedback because I need validation to stay motivated lol

Summary: Y/N is an Avenger, the youngest Avenger. Then, Peter Parker comes along and they’re happy to finally have someone their age to hang out with, even if it was the boy they spent their senior year of high school crushing over.

Content Warnings: I don’t think there are any - let me know if I missed any though!

Genres: Friends to lovers, Stark! Reader, Frequent cameos from Avengers and them being cute, Slow burn, Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 2019

                                                             ----

“Alright gang.” Tony begins, standing in front of all the Avengers at the end of a large oval table in the conference room.

“I’m sure you’ve seen these ‘viral videos’ of this Spider-Boy kid swinging around the city and being a friendly neighbourhood vigilante. Well, Happy and I have managed to track him down and he’s agreed to join the team”

“Viral videos of superheroes?” Steve exclaims, looking at Tony whilst tilting his head and looking genuinely exhausted. “I’m still catching up on these keyboard cats and kids biting fingers”.

I giggle. Having Steve around was just the same as having an uncle you saw once the year who lived of the grid. He was extremely sweet, but utterly clueless to anything other than his job. But I mean, that job does include fighting evil aliens.

“Anyway…” Tony continues as the other Avengers chuckles die down after Steve’s outcry “he arrived not too long ago. Happy is next door giving him all the T&Qs and they should be done now. Let me just check and I’ll introduce you all.” Tony then leaves the room, and the other Avengers start to talk among themselves.

I pull out my phone and type ‘NYC spider boy’ into YouTube clicking on the second search result with 20 million views. I have seen this video before as my friend Michael sent it to me around a week ago.

“Do you think there are many other super kids wandering around the city?” Sam asks, whilst looking at the video of my shoulder. Currently the hero is stopping a city bus from off-roading into some confused tourists by building up a wall with his web.

“I doubt it, I mean I guess he’s the only one going viral” I answer, moving the angle of my phone so the others who have gathered around me can see “but it would be cool to be able to meet some people my age who do what I do, no offence guys”

They all laugh. Being the youngest Avenger and hanging out with 30+ year olds all the time can be kind of isolating, but it’s like having a super close family. A family who also happen to be in life and death situations regularly together. But that’s a great bonding experience I would say.

“Guys, this is Peter, the Spider-Boy” Tony draws our attention away from my phone to the door where he has just entered.

“Spider-Man” Peter mutters as a lame attempt to correct him.

“Peter?” I question and the boy stood in front of me was not who I expected. I didn’t expect the masked vigilante swinging through New York to be someone that I knew.

“Y/N?” He responds, looking even more confused than I am “What are you doing here?”

-

“So Tony Stark is your dad?” Peter asks.

After seeing a guy from your school who you shared a chemistry class with last year, walking into a super-secret meeting for superheroes where he will be now joining your team. It is understandable that Peter and I were now talking this out to figure out how this state could be so small.

“Yep” I answer. We were sat next to each other on bar stools at the kitchen island. Wanda made some of her famous fruit smoothies for us and we were both stirring them around with our straws whilst conversing alone in the main living space.

“But your last name isn’t Stark, or Potts?” He continues, genuinely really confused about this whole situation.

“Yeah, well you can’t have the daughter of a billionaire and superhero couple walking around New York City alone, going to a normal school, having normal hobbies. It’s like asking for me to be taken hostage. So, I don’t have either of their last names and the general public doesn’t know I exist. It’s for my safety” I continue, reciting this memorised answer I’ve had to say to multiple people once they find out my existence.

Peter nodded as if he was understanding everything, he probably was, but I guess this wasn’t the conversation he planned to have today.

“And you’re the great Spider-Man” I continued, wanting the change the subject from me to him. “How did that happen? Wait… were you Spider-Man when you sat behind me in Chem last year?”

He began to explain to me the story, it happened to him on our school trip to OSCORP we took last year for our Chem class that happened just before the end of the semester. Something about a radioactive spider. It was strange, kind of the weirdest superhero transformation story I’ve heard. And I’ve heard quite a few.

My story was nowhere near as interesting. I guess having superhero parents who were always around weird alien technology and contaminated substances led to some weird epigenetic alterations of their reproductive cells and then when they had me, I could turn invisible.

They didn’t know at first, I was seemingly a normal baby. Then at my 2nd birthday party when they surprised me with a freaky clown, I was so scared that my body just decided to turn invisible. They weren’t expecting it, the clown definitely wasn’t expecting it and they had to cover up with a very convincing lie.

From then, whenever I was embarrassed, scared or essentially in a situation where I wanted to disappear. I did. Literally. It wasn’t entirely effective though as even though my body tuned invisible, the clothes I was wearing didn’t. I spent the majority of my preteen years of being a walking hoodie and jeans with no head or hands protruding from the gaps. For my 13th birthday Bruce and I got to work on a suit which responds to the activity of my skin cells, when I was invisible, my suit was invisible. It made it a lot more effective for me to actually be invisible when I turned but it also meant my dad let me start training to become an Avenger.

Training was fun, I worked with Nat a lot in our gym in order to become an efficient fighter. ‘Just because people couldn’t see me, doesn’t mean I shouldn’t know how to serve a mean right hook’ she always said. I also spent a lot of time with Wanda, trying to manage my powers. Now I am able to actually turn invisible and visible again on demand. And it only takes extreme embarrassment now to turn me invisible against my will, which is great because mum and dad finally let me, after my years of begging, attend Midtown High and stop being home school. This is where I met Peter last year and now I’m at Columbia studying genetics and engineering. A double major, I know but when you’re around the top geniuses in the world everyday, there is no such thing as too much learning.

“So, I guess we’re the only Midtown Alumni to have these crazy powers huh?” Peter finishes. After a long ramble about his becoming a superhero story. I guess he wanted to ease the tension after I couldn’t really think of what to say after “that’s super cool”. It wasn’t like I wasn’t interested, I really was, but when I wanted to have another person my age to hang out with, I didn’t expect it to be the boy I spent my senior year of high school obsessing over. I had turned shy, like really shy, like my normal levels of shy times 50. I couldn’t think of what to say.

“Sorry, if that story was too long and boring, I’ve only gotten to tell it to one person before, my best friend Ned so I was kind of excited to be able to tell it again.”

“No, it wasn’t boring, it was genuinely really cool!” I say a little too loudly and enthusiastically. I cringe at my tone of voice and speak normally again as I continue “It’s just I didn’t really expect the new Avengers recruit to be you, you know, like someone I know. It’s just kind of weird, but nice? I don’t know, now I’m rambling”

Peter chuckles.

“Umm, so are you going to be staying with us whilst you train or are you going back to Queens?” I ask, hoping this new question will miraculously erase Peter’s memory of what I last said.

“A bit of both, my Aunt is back in queens and I don’t want to leave her completely alone, but this upstate facility is a little too far for an everyday commute. I’m here just for today but once I start training on Monday, I think I might stay for the whole week.”

“Well, I can give you the tour! Since you’ll be staying with us soon, I guess you’ll want to know where everything is!” I say whilst jumping of my bar stool and putting my half full smoothie cup in the fridge. I noticed peter has just finished his, so I grab the glass and put it in the dishwasher for him. He thanks me as I do so.

“So this is the kitchen, where we make our food, different from the kitchen where the chefs make our food for occasions, charity events blah blah blah. And also, this seating area here is kind of the main seating area where we’ll sit throughout the day. Lots of sofas because there are lots of us and this is Bucky’s armchair. Don’t ever sit in Bucky’s armchair.” I say, stopping behind the chair and resting my hand on the headrest.

“Bucky, scary guy with the metal arm right?” Peter questions whilst following me at a slight distance around the room as I show him around. I nod. “Yeah, don’t worry, I won’t be sitting in his chair” he laughs.

I continue to show him the rest of the complex, the gym, the labs and finish up on the floor with all our rooms.

“I’m not sure which one of these rooms will be yours because we have a couple spare ones, but they all have the same layout. Look I’ll show you mine” I walk into my room, then hold the door open for Peter so he can follow me in.

“Uh, so this is my room. Obviously, yours won’t be decorated like mine but It’ll be the same size and have an en-suite attached with a full shower and tub and stuff. You know, the basics” I say, whilst sitting on the edge of my bed.

“I like your room, it’s cosy” he adds whilst looking around and then heading for the bookshelf as soon as he spots it.

“Ah thanks, I mean it’s cool, bigger than when we were in the tower in the city so I can’t complain” I say whilst also looking around. What is it about someone else being in your room that makes you see it with fresh eyes and make you super self-conscious that there is going to be a rogue piece of underwear on the floor? Even though I know I tidied my room this morning.

“Holy crap, Vision you scared the life out of me” I say on an exhale whilst holding my hand to my chest after the large gasp I just made as he enters the room, through the wall.

“Sorry, but your door is open” He continues, “Mr. Stark has told me that your car is here to take you back home Mr. Parker. If you would just follow me, I can lead you there” Vision continues, as if him just floating through my bedroom wall and speaking to the boy from my chemistry class now turned superhero was a normal thing to happen on a Thursday evening.

“Oh… thanks Vision” Peter says with some hesitancy, you can see that this is a weird circumstance for him too. “Well, I’ll see you on Monday then” he says smiling at me and walking towards the door. Which vision doesn’t use to exit.

“Yeah, see you then” I smile as he closes the door and I’m left in my room listening to him shuffling down the corridor.

Part 2

[luckyricochet]

I want you to answer A-Z on the fandom asks so I can peer into your psyche 👀

Wow I love you. This actually took around three hours since I wanted to think about the answers. See them under the cut!

A - Ships that you currently like a lot. (They don’t have to be OTPs because not everyone has OTPs.) Friendships, pairings, threesomes, etc. are allowed.

From Hanyou no Yashahime — Sesshomaru and Rin

From The Mandalorian — The Mandomera’s been creeping up a little bit. 

B - A pairing–platonic, romantic or sexual–that you initially didn’t consider, but someone changed your mind.

Honestly can’t think of one. I’m very set in my ships. 

C - A ship you have never liked and probably never will.

From Naruto — SasuSaku. Sasuke was cute as a kid so I get Sakura having a crush on him then, but I think she would have gotten over it when he became a homicidal clown who abandoned the village and tried to kill her and her teammates multiple times.

D - A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t.

From Harry Potter — Ron x Hermione. I’ve always thought their personalities didn’t match and not in the good “opposites attract” kind of way.

E - Have you added anything cracky/hilarious to your fandom? If so, what?

I only know how to write angst, drama, and introspective musings so no. 

F - What’s the longest you’ve ever been in a fandom?

Over fifteen years in the Harry Potter fandom, but I’ve had to separate that from JKR herself in the recent years. 

G - Have you ever had an OTP? If so, do you remember your first one? Who was in it?

“Have I ever had an OTP”? *laughs from shipping hell* 

From The Witch of Blackbird Pond by Elizabeth George Speare — Nat and Kit were my first OTP. Read this book in fifth grade and was immediately loved them. Boy literally risks banishment from the colony to help prove she’s not a witch. 

H - What is your favorite source text for fandom stuff (e.g., TV shows, movies, books, anime, Western animation, etc.)?

I love visual media, so TV, anime, and film

I - Has Tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why?

I’m not going to let tumblr dot com put me off of a particular show/book/etc. itself, but it has definitely made me think less of certain types of fans who are in a fandom. 

J - Name a fandom you didn’t think about until you saw it all over Tumblr. (You don’t have to care about it or follow it; it just has to be something that Tumblr made you aware of.)

The...period drama fandom? More widely, the history fandom. They both create some of the most beautiful edits celebrating history and I love it. 

K - What character has your favorite development arc/the best development arc?

 From Avatar: The Last Airbender — It’s gotta be Prince Zuko

L - Say something genuinely nice about a character who isn’t one of your faves. (Characters you’re neutral about are fair game, as are characters you merely dislike. Characters that you absolutely loathe with the fire of ten thousand suns are exempt, as there is no point in giving yourself an aneurysm over a character that you hate.)

From Harry Potter — I think Ginny is a Mary Sue but I loved when she stood up for herself in Half-Blood Prince when Ron was trying to slut-shame her. 

M - Name a character that you’d like to have for a friend.

From Parks and Recreation — Leslie Knope. Unending positive affirmations, thoughtfulness, and support!

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

I don’t really have a main fandom but I haven’t mentioned Free! yet so let’s go with it for this one. 

1. Less Nitori because I can’t stand him.

2. More female characters! I get half the appeal is the boys, but I’d love to see a girls swim team in some capacity. 

3. More Haru and his family dynamics! Doesn’t have to be a ton, but I want to know what his relationship with his parents like, especially as an adult.

O - Choose a song at random. Which ship or character does it remind you of?

Salt and the Sea - The Lumineers. “From the destruction, out of the flame. You need a villain, give me a name.” Such an Odesta song. (Finnick x Annie from the Hunger Games)

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas).

For The Mandalorian — A historical AU set in early 1900s New York City where Mando’s just some government agent sent to “report” on slum conditions to satisfy some housing law. He goes meaning to write up a generic report but then finds the orphaned Baby Yoda abandoned in one of the tenements. Shocked by the conditions of the slums, Mando goes from being an apathetic, middling-level bureaucrat to being an anonymous investigative journalist reporting on the corruption in the government that allows for the city’s most vulnerable citizens to live in squalor, leading the government on a search to find who within their ranks is exposing them. 

Q - A fandom you’ve abandoned and why.

Sherlock, because it just took so long for the third series to come out. I had moved on to other fandoms by the time it did. Still have fond memories of when I was active in it, though. 

R - Which friendship/platonic relationship is your favorite in fandom?

From Lord of the Rings — Aragorn and Legolas. This is played up a lot more in the films but I love it. 

S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged)

For Lord of the Rings — Boromir definitely taught Faramir swordplay when they were little kids since their father didn’t want to. 

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending?

From Hanyou no Yashahime — Rin made the first move. Sesshomaru would be way too clueless to even know how to go about it. 

U - Three favorite characters from three different fandoms, and why they’re your favorites.

From Pirates of the Caribbean — James Norrington: Commodore in the Royal Navy during the 18th century, must I explain any further? Cool, calm, and collected on the job while looking v good while he does it but a nervous wreck in front of the woman he fancies. Tell me that’s not straight out of Austen.

From Star Wars (OT) — Luke Skywalker: An unapologetically good person in a crapsack world, doing his best to bring light into the world. A classic hero archetype who grows out of his naïveté to become a cunning—but still benevolent—Jedi. 

From Prince of Tennis — Yukimura Seiichi: His duality is *chef’s kiss*. Super scary and in charge on the court, gentle sweet boy who loves art and culture off the court. He struggled for so long but was able to overcome it all through his hard work and willpower.

Bonus favorite, because I couldn’t resist...

From Band of Brothers — Doc Roe: He’s doing the MOST for his guys but he really just needs a hug. Plus he’s got the accent.

V - Which character do you relate to most?

From Little Women — Jo March, especially as portrayed by Saoirse Ronan in the 2019 adaptation. Writer, holds grudges, opinionated, stubborn, eschewed “girliness” in her youth but is more open to it and romanticism as an adult. 

W - A trope which you are virtually certain to hate in any fandom.

I’ve gotten to the point where even the hint of a love triangle tests my patience.

X - A trope which you are almost certain to love in any fandom.

It’s about the yearning: Longing Look

Also will definitely always ship the Brooding Boy and the Gentle Girl

Y - What are your secondhand fandoms (i.e., fandoms you aren’t in personally but are tangentially familiar with because your friends/people on your dash are in them)?

Anything in the MCU or general superhero content.

Z - Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go! (Prompts optional but encouraged.)

I love fandom so much. I’m sort of facetious about being obsessed with people who aren’t real on my other social media accounts, but in all seriousness, being able to escape the real world to get excited over characters and relationships that face their own struggles, triumphs, and emotions is such a gift. So often they speak so powerfully on the human experience—How can you read, or watch, any of Tolkien’s work and not be moved by what he has to say about humanity and the power of good? Even if the stories are fictional, the messages they impart about life aren’t, which is what I love so much about them.

[one-abuse-survivor]

Hi…if I’m being honest, I’m not really sure how this works…

I’ve been following your blog for a couple of weeks now (the Monday floofs always make me smile), and I guess I have a about emotional abuse, if it’s okay for me to ask?

I was wondering, have you ever heard of intermittent emotional abuse? Whenever I tell people about my mom, they tell me she is emotionally abusive. However, I’m afraid to agree because I’m not sure if she is actually bad enough to count as abusive.

Days or even weeks can pass without anything bad happening. She never swears at me when angry, and she never says anything over-the-top (I wish you were dead, for instance).

At the same time though, growing up, whenever she was frustrated, I noticed that she would get angry at me over things she would normally not care about. She would not apologize, either. When I got older, I told her that she was using me as her emotional punching bag. She apologized and promised to do better, and she did for a bit, but overall, nothing changed.

She would constantly invalidate my emotions, and she would get annoyed whenever I would talk about something I enjoyed too often. She actually banned me from watching more than one episode of my favorite TV show per week at one point (I was punished because, according to her, I thought about the show too much—not “watched it too much,” but “thought about it too much”). With another thing I enjoyed a few years later, she once got mad at me because “Your whole face lights up when you talk about it!” She also would just get angry at me for crying, being scared, or feeling any emotion she did not like.

She rarely apologized. Instead, she would turn it around on me, or she would promise to do better, but would not. I remember, at one point, I told her that she had promised not to get so mad at me over the little things, but had not kept her promise. She replied with how I had promised not to give her an attitude, but still did sometimes. I told her that I was trying, and she said that she was trying, too. But while I actually stopped giving her an attitude—and speaking to her about anything unnecessary—she got worse with the anger.

The past two years have been the worst. I’m 16 now, and I’ve noticed that her words have had more of an effect than before. I started suspecting that something was off three years ago, when we were on a vacation that required us to walk around for several hours—not so bad on its own—in an environment so hot, the news released warnings about it (there was a heat wave). She had made me buy new shoes for the trip, but they were not comfortable, and after two days, walking felt like being stabbed in the foot. It hurt bad. However, when I tried to tell her, she got angry and told me how ungrateful I was being, and that I better not tell my dad how I felt.

Even recently, by which I mean two days ago, she was talking about what her “ideal son” would be like (I’m a girl). She said that if he was like one of my childhood friends, my dad would be in heaven, and if he was like one of my cousins, she would be in heaven.

So I asked her, “What if he was like me?”

Her response: “Then dad and I would be dead. We couldn’t handle two kids like you.”

She went on to talk about how she would not be able to handle two children as cold as I was, and how in most families, there was always one child who was “different,” so if she had a son, he would probably not be like me, anyway.

Then, I asked my dad, “But you like spending time with me, don’t you?”

He said yes.

My mom said, “Tell her the truth.”

I’m pretty sure that my mom saying this is not okay, even if it was done in a casual manner. But…I don’t know; I’m not sure if the way she acts is harsh enough to be called abuse. When I compare it to people’s experiences online, it seems so much easier. She can go as long as three months with no incident.

When I was a kid, I would view our relationship as one of the best mother-daughter relationships out there. At the same time though, even though the good times happen more often than the bad, it eventually got to a point where I was constantly bracing myself for the bad. The good was more often, but the bad outweighed it. There are a bunch of things I have not included in this message, too. A lot of times, I find myself wishing she would hurt me worse, either physically or emotionally, so that I know for sure. When I see her getting mad, I start feeling both happy and terrified—terrified that she will hurt me, and happy because that means that it is real. However, I’m not sure if I’m just crying wolf, and if I want evidence just so I can support a false claim.

I just…I don’t know. I’m tired of being around her. Last year I was TERRIFIED of her; this year, I just feel…empty. The idea of having to live with her after I graduate from college sounds like a fate worse than death, literally. I would genuinely rather die than stay with her.

I’m just so tired of her constantly being on my mind. EVERYONE I’ve spoken to—a few high school friends, and several people online—says that she is emotionally abusive. But when you condense a lifetime of wrongs down, it’s going to look like a lot, no matter how nice the person is. I just…I don’t know.

Hi, I’m the Anon who asked about dissociation vs zoning out and who asked about whether constant lecturing was okay in a relationship (when I sent the second ask, I had forgotten that I had sent the first). I guess this is partially a vent, and partially just me asking for advice.

Yesterday, my mom said that she wanted to have a talk with me. She told me that I needed to be careful about what I told people about her, because apparently, one of my aunts and one of my uncles have been talking about her and her parenting style.

Those are the only two relatives I’ve ever spoken to about my mom, and rarely (twice to my aunt, once to my uncle). According to my mom, though, while they know she is a good parent, they are worried that her parenting style is starting to affect me.

Then she started lecturing me and asking, “Look at what I’m doing now. I’m driving you to a restaurant because you wanted to eat out. I drop you off at your friends’ houses because you want to go. Look at everything I do for you.” She went on for a while about all the things she did, explaining how she did everything for me and had no life outside of me, and scolded me for expecting her to be perfect. She said that she thinks I am just being a dramatic teenager, and I am probably exaggerating my experiences and my feelings.

Just…I’m so confused now. What if she’s right? Nobody is perfect. I know that I’m not. What if she’s right, and I’m just making a big deal out of everything for, I don’t know, attention or something?

She also brought up a recent example: she had been talking about her ideal son (I am a girl), and I asked her. “What if the son was like me?”

Her response was that she and my dad would be dead, because they would not be able to handle two children so cold and aloof. I then asked my dad whether he enjoyed being around me, and when he said that she did, my mom told me to stop lying.

So yesterday, when we were talking, my mom told me that I needed to stop taking things out of context. She said that of course she would want a different kid, because who wants two of the same thing? For instance, if I had sisters, would I want them to be the same, or different?

But…that isn’t what she said the first night. She specifically mentioned how I was too cold and aloof. And even last night, she told me, “The reason I said that is because your dad and I want a daughter. A child. We want to be parents, and we want to be a family. It’s not that we don’t love you, it’s that we don’t think you love us enough.”

I just don’t know anymore, and it’s driving me crazy. My mom is right in that she does do everything for me. What if I am being too harsh and expecting too much from her?

At the same time, though, I started suspecting she was emotionally abusive two years ago. I dismissed it as, “I’m being dramatic. In two years, I probably won’t feel the same way.” But two years passed, and I still do feel that way.

Then, a few months ago, I thought, “Well, obviously I’m biased. No one else seems to think anything else is wrong with her parenting style.” But then, two of my friends sat me down to discuss how they are starting to think that my mom is emotionally abusive

Even then, I was still not convinced, so I talked to some friends who I have known since childhood, and to some people on Reddit (probably not the best idea, but I was desperate). EVERYONE said that my mom was emotionally abusive. The only people who haven’t outright called her abusive are my aunt and uncle whom I mentioned, but they, and my mom, were all abused and neglected as children, and they don’t acknowledge that, either (forcing a 5 year-old to walk on the side of a busy road to get school, ALONE, for instance, is just one example). Surely not all of the people who have agreed with me are people whom I accidentally fooled with exaggeration.

And what about all the feelings I’m experiencing? The last week in particular, I remember thinking about how I don’t even feel like I own my own body; how it felt like that was only a possession of my mom’s. For context, she’s really controlling about what I can eat, and I would constantly hear “Only eat if you’re hungry.” “Leave 25 percent of your stomach empty.” “You can only have 75 percent of the food on your plate. If you get hungry later, eat fruit.” “I gave you extra food, so leave a third of it.” “Stop saying you’re hungry; you’re only eating because you like it!” “At the party, don’t forget: only one sweet thing.” “You had a mini cupcake three days ago, so I don’t want you eating that cookie because we might get dessert in two days.” “STOP ACTING LIKE I DEPRIVE YOU OF SUGAR!”

A month ago, I started losing my appetite, and she started forcing me to eat more (I mentioned an example of that with the fruit in one of my other asks). Today, I know that I have to drink some fruit juice she’ll make, water with the weird powder in it, at least five other glasses of water, two other fruits, and actual food. If I don’t have the room, than she’ll tell me not to eat the actual food.

She even keeps going on about my body hair, and since I was 13, she’s been forcing me to wax and thread my upper lip. I didn’t mind the waxing too much, but when she switched to threading, it HURT. I begged for about a year before she switched back to waxing (she had stopped because I once got spicy sauce on the skin after waxing and it burned it). She’s been talking about me waxing my arms and threading my eyebrows, and I REALLY, REALLY DO NOT WANT TO.

It’s my body, and I’m not ready! I’m not self-conscious about the hair, so why does she have to make such a big deal about it? She’s constant talking about having me get a full-body laser treatments and I. Don’t. Want. It! She even keeps talking about how she’s going to start introducing me to guys when I’m 21, and how, hopefully, I’ll start trying to find one to get married to when I’m 24. She just doesn’t stop, no matter how much I tell her that it makes me uncomfortable. She just says, “It’s just introducing you! I’m not making you marry any of them.”

I don’t even feel like I’m in control of my life right now. I feel like I’m her doll; that she OWNS my body the same way she owns this house and her clothes. I don’t doubt that she loves me, but I’m starting to think that she loves me the same way you love a pet or a favorite toy.

But now, I also feel so guilty, because what if she’s right? What if I am being cruel or exaggerating? At this point, I don’t even know—I’m just so tired of having to think about this. I just want to be a good person.

Also, sorry for sending in yet another ask; I know that this is my third or fourth. I wasn’t originally going to send anything, but I woke up feeling so numb, and then this all hit me like a train, and I panicked and wasn’t sure what else I could do.

(previous asks)

I hope you don’t mind me answering these two asks at the same time, nonnie; they were sent pretty far apart but I figured from context they were from the same person.

From what you shared, your mom sounds very emotionally abusive and neglectful, nonnie. I know it's hard to believe a parent is abusive when other people's abuse stories sound so much worse than yours, but it's important to remember two things. One, that abuse doesn't have to be the worst it could possibly be for it to be abuse. Just like physical abuse doesn't have to leave bruises or broken bones to be physical abuse, emotional abuse doesn't need to include parents telling you they wished you were dead to count. And two, that, when you go through abuse for long periods of time and your abuser constantly justifies their behaviour, it tends to become so normalised in our minds that it doesn't feel like it's “that bad” anymore. Meanwhile, when we hear other people's stories of abuse, we mostly hear about things we haven't experienced and haven't been normalised in our minds, so they tend to sound “worse” to us. Moreover, when we're thinking about someone else's suffering, it's far, FAR easier to see it from a rational point of view than when we're thinking about our own suffering. We always tend use our emotional brain to think about ourselves, and that's why it's easier to accept that others are suffering and deserve better than to think WE are suffering and deserve better. And, again, going through abuse exacerbates these feelings, because we get told our emotions and pain and boundaries aren't okay and are unreasonable and selfish.

Regarding the abuse being too intermittent to count, I answered another ask on the topic a while ago, which you can read here. I don't think there's such a thing as “abuse that's too intermittent to count as abuse”. If there is a cycle of abuse, and you are getting hurt and experiencing distress or any symptoms of PTSD, then I don't think it matters how “slow” that cycle is or how few and far between the moments of cruel abuse are: you are a victim of abuse, and you deserve to acknowledge that and to get away from the situation and heal. And, nonnie, “days or weeks” isn't that far between at all. When I think of very intermittent abuse, what comes to mind is abuse that only happens in certain moments of the year (for example, only during summer holidays). Abuse happening every few days or weeks still sounds to me like continuous abuse—and, if it helps to hear, that's how frequent my own abuse was for most of my life.

I think it could help you to watch this video on childhood emotional neglect, because some of the things your mom does definitely sound like some of the forms of childhood emotional neglect listed in the video.

Using you as her emotional punching bag, getting mad at you for expressing positive emotions around her, telling you that having another child like you would be the death of them and calling you ungrateful for trying to establish boundaries that are inconventient to her are all forms of emotional abuse and neglect. It's also a red flag of abuse to get told that you shouldn't talk negatively about her to others; many abusers hate it when you talk to others about the way they treat you.

Additionally, reminding you of every single thing they do for you to make you feel guilty is also emotionally abusive. When she drives you to meet your friends, she's not doing you a selfless favour out of the kindness of her heart—she is doing her job as a parent, something she signed up to be. But emotionally abusive parents often love to remind their kids of every little good thing they do to make us feel guilty for having any negative emotions toward them, and to downplay the not-so-good things they do to us. That's why many abuse victims end up constantly punishing themselves for thinking badly of their abusers and reminding themselves of every good thing the abuser has done, and that's also why we tend to constantly question if the bad moments are "bad enough" not to get cancelled out by the good ones: because abusers weaponise every single decent thing they do for us and use it to paint themselves as saints and as victims. They make us feel like it's a horrible sacrifice to take care of us, when in reality they signed up to take care of us; none of us asked to be under their care.

And wishing it would be “worse” so you could be certain it was abuse, as well as constantly bracing yourself for her to be cruel again, are all symptoms that you're dealing with trauma from abuse, nonnie. People who haven't been abused don't wish they'd get treated worse just so they could be sure they're not making up their own pain. It's also a sign that you've been abused to constantly worry that your abuser is “right” and that you're making everything up, exaggerating your pain somehow, or accidentally being an attention-seeker. In reality, all you've done is have and express your own emotions and trauma, nonnie. You don't want anything else but to have your pain acknowledged and to stop going through abuse. You can't accidentally be an attention-seeker. You can't accidentally fake your own very real emotions. There's no such thing as feeling the “wrong” emotions. Especially not when it comes to trauma.

It's also common, when you go through abuse, to feel like you're not in control of your own body or life, and like you are at the mercy of your abuser. In my experience, this happens because we get so constantly denied boundaries regarding our bodies, time, and emotions, and we get told so often our emotions are wrong and selfish and un-called for, that we can feel like we're going crazy, like our own bodies and minds aren't ours.

It's absolutely not okay for your mother to control what you eat in that way, nonnie. I'm furious on your behalf that you have to hear this stream of bullcrap every time you eat. Ugh. You absolutely do not need to worry about how many sweet things you eat or about leaving food on your dish, and I'm so sorry you have to put up with this from her. It's no wonder you don't feel in control of your own body when she doesn't let you choose what you eat and what you don't. If you don't mind me sharing my personal experience, my mother had a phase at one point where she decided having omega 3 supplements was a necessary part of life and she'd force me to eat them or she'd scream at me if I refused. Just going through that for a few months felt incredibly intrusive and traumatic, and I can't even imagine this on a daily basis with every single food you have. Forcing you to ingest things you don't want to is most definitely physical abuse. So is making you keep walking while in pain and under a heatwave.

And I'm about to get slightly more personal here, because the topic of forced hair removal is very close to me, but it is absolutely not okay and very VERY messed up for her to make decisions on your body hair, especially permanent decisions. You're right that she has absolutely no right to make your body hair a big deal. I, too, was forced to shave since I was 12 and actually started permanent laser hair removal because I was forced by my parents, and those sessions were traumatic. I did not want my body hair gone, and the laser was very, very painful, and the people who did those sessions constantly berated me for expressing pain and told me it was something “every woman should go through” and to suck it up. I still have bald spots on my legs from it years after I stood up to my parents and refused to do another session. So, from personal experience: she does NOT get to put you through that. Your body hair is your business, and your business alone.

And, oh my god, what the fuck. She does not have a right to control your dating life. She does not have a right to make you meet boys at ANY age. I know from your other ask that you struggle to tell apart what's healthy and what isn't in a romantic relationship, and let me tell you, what she is doing right now sounds like she is setting you up to end up in a toxic relationship. And I will reiterate something I mentioned in that other ask, because I think it's vitally important to know: romantic relationships are not mandatory. Marriage is not mandatory. There's not one set age at which you need to start looking for someone to date or marry. If you go into adult life with that mindset, there's a very high chance you'll end up in a toxic relationship out of fear that being single is worse than being with someone who makes you miserable, and it's majorly messed up for her to be setting you up for this kind of future.

So, in conclusion, nonnie, I definitely don't think you're exaggerating. In fact, I think you need to get far away from her as soon as you can, for your own safety. The way she treats your body and life as her property and makes decisions for you regarding them sounds deeply traumatic, and it is very dangerous to have so little control over yourself. I'm especially concerned about the food issue, because having a bad relationship with food and getting less food intake than you need can have very dangerous psychological side effects. And you most definitely do not have to go through her plans for your adult life. You deserve to live a life that is yours, and to make your own decisions about who you meet and who you date and what you do with your body.

I'm sending the biggest virtual hug and all my support your way. No one deserves to live like this, and please know you deserve so much better than this, and you most definitely deserve to label what she's putting through as abuse. ❤️

[dorizardthewizard]

So I watched the Eurovision movie

Uh, I have a lot of thoughts because this is the closest we’re gonna get to the real thing this year ;^; First, the positives!

What they got right:

Overall, I like that it wasn’t really taking the piss out of the competition – whether you agree or not with how it was portrayed, the creators do have a lot of love for the show and that is reflected in how much it means to the characters. I think it was fitting to start with the kids watching and being inspired by ABBA’s win (I’m always up for showing people where the group’s fame started), and making it their life goal to perform in the contest. Just like Lars and Sigrit, many musicians in Europe grow up with Eurovision being an annual tradition and it’s their big dream to one day perform on that international stage, so yeah I think it decently showed how important ESC is here.

They got the overall vibe right too – most of the songs really felt like Eurovision songs (maybe a little dated but still), from the Viking-Europop opener to the Lordi-aesthetic one to whatever the hell Russia was doing. I don’t think Greece’s song was something they’d ever send though; it fits the character but not what the country typically sends. Then again, Estonia have sent an opera song in Italian and Romania sent yodel rap so actually, I take back that statement. They were missing a Balkan ballad though! Staging was on point – I think it was filmed at the Tel Aviv stage so that’s obviously a factor, but big angel wings and hamster wheels also bring a lot of familiarity :P No pianos being set on fire though, which, in a movie with so many on-stage disasters, is honestly surprising.

Of course there’s also the past contestant cameos, for that I’ll say one thing – needs more Verka. Maybe some contestants from earlier years would have been nice too, at least we did hear Céline Dion’s song in the song-along. Would also have been nice if the whole mashup was Eurovision songs, instead of throwing in some other ones just to make it more recognizable for non-Eurofans. Otherwise, the mashup was really seamless and sounded good.

Another thing the movie got right was European’s attitudes to Americans, not sure how I feel about it since the movie was made by Americans, but it’s self-aware and pretty funny :P There’s also the funny gag about countries not wanting to host because of how expensive it is, not sure why a guy working for the national broadcaster would care about that but looking at Iceland’s population size, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was also an economist for the government or something.

What they got wrong:

Of course, there were some things they didn’t quite get right. First of all, did the UK win for it to be hosted in Scotland??? Unless Australia won, or some other country that didn’t want to host or something. They actually made a joke about UK getting zero points, but they said it’s because no one likes us, when in reality we just send the blandest songs :/

There were also a whole lot of technical inaccuracies like Sweden breaking the rule on number of people allowed on stage, big five countries taking part in the semi-final (come on, how can you not get that right? Maybe they were afraid Americans wouldn’t recognise half the flags? :P), the contestants were just sitting by themselves in some room like it’s The Voice or something, their delegations nowhere to be seen, and then there’s the total lack of security or planning around the competition, with Lars just running around doing whatever. The countries presenting their votes in the semi-final stood out as well, but since we didn’t get to see the final I can brush over it, just so we experience the voting somewhere in the movie. Wonder why they didn’t use past contestants for the points announcements? They also had the French one speaking in English but you know what, they remembered to make sure he was standing in front of the Eiffel Tower so I’ll let them off :P

One thing that did bother me was how hard the movie tried to make us think the Icelandic song was a failure, except the song wasn’t even bad so they had to resort to all the incidents on stage. They even had that complete silence after the hamster wheel incident, and there is NO WAY that would ever happen – even the null points songs get cheers! In fact, people would cheer harder, and I don’t think Graham Norton, or anyone for that matter, would be that surprised that people remembered the song and actually gave it points (oh yeah, great to see him in this!).

Okay, some of those inaccuracies were nitpicks, but they’re just fun to point out. I don’t think they quite nailed the portrayal though, but more on that later.

The movie itself:

Judging the rest of the film, the humour really didn’t do it for me- it was just kind of jarring that one half of the movie felt like your usual light-hearted music contest film that was fairly rooted in reality, then the next there’s a dismembered ghost of Demi Lovato and a guy getting stabbed by Elves??? I know it’s classic Will Ferrel random comedy but honestly, those parts could have been cut out of the movie just fine, it’s like half an hour too long anyway and you can tell by the way the humour drags. It can basically be summarised by the ending scene where Lars is yelling at the Americans and then just keeps going, and I know that’s the joke in that scene but they do this throughout the whole movie – something will happen and the characters will keep reacting back and forth and it’s honestly exhausting. That might just be me though, maybe I’d prefer more witty and self-aware humour in a Eurovision movie but I guess non-fans wouldn’t get half the jokes so they went for over-the-top ridiculousness ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

As for the characters, Sigrit was great; she’s a good mix between cute and weird. Lars is… annoying tbh, maybe I just don’t care for Will Ferrel's character type but when Alexander asks Lars what he can possibly offer Sigrit I was like “yeah Lars, what CAN you offer?”. Their relationship was cute though and his arc about caring too much about winning was decent, it does kind of resonate with Eurovision because yeah, lots of countries will revamp their songs to have English lyrics and the style is increasingly converging to Americanized radio-friendly pop music. I do wish they’d focused more on this conflict, rather than bringing in a love square (?) with Alexander and Mita.

Speaking of Alexander, I actually liked how they portrayed the Russian character; he wasn’t a villain, he was fun to watch and was genuinely happy to see Sigrit succeed. I did not expect them to go there with the whole “there are no gays in Russia” thing – I laughed but also actually felt for the guy, and his friendship with Mita was peak mlm/wlw solidarity, it was sweet.

The ending:

For me, this is where it goes American Hollywood style and kinda reminds me of Madonna’s speech about everyone being winners. Felt like I was watching Camp Rock for a second then (which is funny since Demi is in this movie) – all the other acts are fun songs but we’ll just change ours to a ballad so it must be more heartfelt and resonate with the audience, as if a good chunk of ESC songs aren’t ballads already!! To be fair, they do well in having it be a personal song about her hometown and adding in parts in Icelandic (although I’ve heard it’s so butchered you can’t understand what’s being said), it’s a sweet ode to one of the best parts of Eurovision – celebrating where you’re from and making your country proud.

Wish they’d focused more on that tbh, we really could have done without Lars speaking to the audience – that’s the more Hollywood moment for me and kind of reminds me of acts that try to connect with the audience like it’s a concert. Sorry but we don’t do that here :P Instead of the “music is feeling”-like message, it would have been nice if the movie was more directed towards celebrating why the contest is so big and important even decades after it began, and how it literally brings an entire continent together for one night. This would have been nice especially because of all the cynicism towards ESC and its dismissal as just a dumb, campy event with no quality music whatsoever.

Huh, I just remembered there are no live instruments at Eurovision so how everyone can hear the piano at the end is beyond me, also the instrumental kicks in despite the fact that that song has never been recorded in a studio, let alone able to be played out loud onstage. But I’ll just imagine that’s for us to see, the audience actually just heard her singing and nothing else. I don’t think it would have been that impressive, so Iceland probably won everyone’s hearts through memes instead :’D

Overall, I don’t think the movie was terribly offensive or anything, just some silly fun that missed out on the potential of better portraying the Eurovision spirit. I might eventually watch it again, but with skipping out half the comedy :P

[spaceskam]

the kissing booth (4)

it’s 2am, will add links to specific parts later

ao3

It was the first morning Michael had slept in that he could remember.

The first two weeks or so of coming to this shed that Alex had shown him, he could barely sleep. He kept waiting for something to happen and that it’d be a big joke and he’d often stress so much that he’d leave early hours in the morning to sneak into Rosa’s bedroom. Last night, however, he’d passed out around two in the morning. He was wrapped up in the blankets Alex had in there on the tiny, twin mattress. It all smelled of Alex and it had kept him asleep well after the sun rose.

He stretched his arms out and smiled at the ceiling. He didn’t know what he did to deserve this, but he was thankful. Alex hadn’t come into the shed since he showed him where it was which Michael found a little odd, but they hung out other places. He’d gone to coffee with him and Isobel, they went to Alex’s football games, they talked. It was a legit friendship. Michael felt blessed.

The shed was hidden behind the house and, apparently, Alex’s family didn’t even know about it. It was old and, according to some initials carved into the wall, had been there since at least the 50s. Somehow, though, it was still connected to the house’s electricity. Alex theorized that it was probably shotty, but he hadn’t had any issues. It meant there was a space heater that worked and a light bulb strung from the ceiling.

“How’d you find this?” Michael had asked him that first day.

“I wandered a lot as a kid. I found a lot of stuff, but this felt like my little secret,” Alex had answered.

Apparently, for the last ten years of Alex’s life, he’d been slowly making this place his little escape whenever he needed to go be alone. Michael did feel a little bad that he’d sort of taken it over during the night, but he was also endlessly thankful that he had somewhere to go at night. There was no pressure to leave. In fact, Alex would leave food for him with mom-like sticky notes to tell him to sleep well. It was overwhelmingly kind.

Michael leaned over and grabbed his phone, seeing it fully charged and a message from Alex telling him that he was going for a run if he wanted to join that had been sent four hours prior.

Michael: sorry, I slept through it 😬 would've gone with you 

Alex: no worries :) wanna go get coffee? 

Michael: yeah, sure. Meet me at the shed?

Alex: be there soon! 

Michael bit his lip to hold back a smile. This all felt so normal. It was surreal.

Still, Michael got up and got dressed. He made the bed up like he did every day before he left. Typically, he didn't even undo it. Last night he had. 

Michael used his phone as a mirror, checking his hair and his face. He’d have to sneak into Isobel’s for a shower later, but that was manageable. He hadn’t exactly told Rosa or Isobel exactly where he was staying, but he wasn’t really sure if Alex would be okay with that. However, he figured he’d have to ask if only because he didn’t want them to worry.

When Alex got to the shed, he knocked. Michael’s system was flooded with a weird, giddy sensation. He knocked. Someone knocked as if it was his space. He really tried to shake off the smile when he went to open the door, but he couldn’t. It was okay, though, because Alex was smiling too.

“Sleep well?” he asked. He looked good. He always looked good. 

“Yeah,” Michael said, licking his lips and looking Alex up and down. On a Saturday morning, he’d gotten up early to run and take a shower, meaning his dark hair was glistening and his clothes were fresh and he smelled so strongly of lavender body wash that it was unfair. 

“You know you can keep some stuff in here if you want,” Alex said, “Make it feel like home.” Michael felt his stomach tie in a billion knots and his face felt hot. What the fuck was this?

“Nah, I don’t wanna impose,” Michael said, suddenly unable to really look Alex in the face, “I already feel like I’m monopolizing all the time in here.”

“Oh, fuck off, you’re so not,” Alex laughed, walking further inside. Michael watched him flop onto the bed, making sure it would smell like him for a little longer. “See? No monopolizing here.”

Michael exhaled heavily and managed a smirk, walking closer. Each day, it felt a little harder to flirt with Alex. He wasn’t sure why it was getting harder. Especially since he spent more than a couple nights flailing and smiling like an idiot because Alex did something like brush past his arm.

“So… coffee? Or you wanna stay here?” Michael asked, staring at Alex all laid out like that on the bed. He knew he wasn’t actually as clean as he would like to the first time he got Alex in bed, but it was so enticing.

Alex licked his lips and huffed a laugh, pushing himself up. “Coffee. I need it in my system.”

“Okay,” Michael laughed, resisting the urge to push him further into the bed, “Let’s go. My treat.”

“Shut up, my treat.”

“It’s always your treat.”

“I don’t think you understand how much pleasure it brings me to spend my daddy’s money on a proud bisexual man,” Alex grinned, standing up and touching his chest lightly as he passed, “A subtle but satisfying rebellion if you ask me.”

Michael didn’t know how to react to that, but something deep in his stomach told him that he didn’t want it to end.

-

Alex came to the shed more often.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“How do you do it?” Alex wondered. He was laid on a yoga mat on the floor, slowly lifting his hips off the floor and holding before slowly dropping them. Michael was positively mesmerized.

“How do I do what?” he asked, tilting his head just a little so he could probably examine Alex’s ass. When he was flat on the floor, Michael theorized he could fit his hand between his back and the floor. He thought about trying.

“Act like nothing bothers you all the time,” Alex said, “Like, I’ve seen you literally look like you’re about to shut down and then the minute someone comes up to you, you throw on that sexy little smile and pretend like you’re great.”

“Sexy, huh?” Michael asked. Alex scoffed and gave him a pointed look.

“Not the point.”

Michael sighed and looked down at the book in his lap. It was apparently in English, but with Alex looking like that only a few feet away he couldn’t recognize any of the words. He tried to come up with a good response but couldn’t think of one.

“I just do,” Michael said with a shrug, “It’s not that deep.”

“I think it’s a coping mechanism,” Alex said sharply, swiftly moving from that position to a plank. His biceps were bulging and it truly felt like he was doing this on purpose.

“I’m not a psychology project.”

“Didn’t say you were,” Alex said, not even kind of sounding winded, “Just saying I think that’s why you’re so tired all the time. You drain yourself pretending.”

“I’m not pretending.”

“Maybe not necessarily,” Alex said, bringing himself down to the mat, “But on some level, it’s not real.”

Michael breathed in slow, trying not to be offended. He didn’t think Alex was trying to offend him. Alex lifted chest up and turned his face towards the sky, his hips to the ground. Michael clutched his book and brought his knees to his chest.

“Okay, your turn,” Alex said.

“What?”

“I clearly upset you. Your turn to psychoanalyze me.”

Michael stared at him and wondered if he should play the queer card, maybe that would hit as deep as saying hey your whole personality is fake. Instead, he pulled on his bottom lip and shook his head.

“I got nothing,” he said.

“C’mon,” Alex prodded, shooting a grin his way, “Something’s in your head.”

Michael waited for a few beats before speaking.

“Why are you so nice to me?” Michael asked softly. Alex furrowed his eyebrows and relaxed, sitting down like a normal person.

“Not everyone has an agenda, Guerin,” he said with a soft laugh that Michael couldn’t reciprocate.

“Not in my experience.”

Alex stared at him for a moment before saying, “What about Rosa? She doesn’t have an agenda.”

“Rosa feels bad for me and I’m just waiting until she hates me,” Michael said, “Same with you, I guess.”

“Okay, Rosa literally loves you,” Alex corrected. Michael shrugged. “And I won’t ever hate you. If I thought that was a possibility, I wouldn’t be around you in the first place. I definitely wouldn’t have asked you to stay here.”

It was the first real-time those exact words had been said out loud. They were the scariest words Michael had ever heard. He didn’t respond.

“You look tired,” Alex said, standing up, “Get some sleep.”

Michael stayed up the rest of the night.

-

“My dad’s out of town.”

Michael watched Alex curiously as he stood in the doorway of the shed. He was in baggy sweatpants and an equally baggy crop top, his hair a mess and looked painfully sexy. It genuinely wasn’t fucking fair. Michael gulped and took a quick look at him up and down. Alex was smirking when he got back to his face.

They’d been doing this for a month. He told Isobel and Rosa where he’d been staying and they didn’t ask questions, but he knew they thought he was just setting himself up to be let down. They had told him more than a few times that Alex was straight, don’t fall for a straight guy, don’t, don’t, don’t.

But they didn’t see Alex in moments like this. Moments when he smirked at him and touched him and wanted to be around him. He couldn’t just be making that shit up.

“I have the whole house to myself,” Alex added after a moment.

“Sounds lonely,” Michael said. Alex bit down on his lip and nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. Alex tapped against the door frame and tilted his head, truly looking at Michael in a way he’d never really been looked at. It made his heart beat a little faster. “You need a haircut.”

Michael let out a surprised little laugh, raking his hand through his hair. It was getting long and Rosa usually cut it, but he hadn’t really been paying attention. He’d been a little distracted.

“I’ll get one eventually.”

Alex grinned. “I can give you one.”

“Right, and ruin my hair? Nice try.”

“Nah, I’m actually pretty good at it,” Alex promised, reaching forward to swat lightly at his arm, “Let me show you.”

Michael caved. How could he not?

“Alright, but not too short in case I need Rosa to save the day.”

Soon, Michael found himself walking through the Manes house for the first time. It was just as big as he imagined, but he didn’t get a good look at it as he was led up the stairs to Alex’s bedroom. That seemed far more important than the rest of the house.

“Welcome to my room,” Alex said, throwing his arms out lightly. Michael looked around at the band posters that mixed oddly with the military-esque order of the rest of the room. “My dad and I made a compromise.”

“I see that,” Michael smiled, “You’re just an emo kid waiting for his time to shine, huh?”

Alex huffed a laugh and shook his head, grabbing Michael by the shirt and tugging him into the bathroom. The smile on both of their faces were prevalent as Alex pushed him into a chair that was already in the bathroom. A quick, nosey peek into the cabinets when Alex turned away to get scissors revealed makeup that had Michael’s mind wandering. He’d never seen Alex in makeup. He wondered when he wore that.

“Can I wash your hair?” Alex asked as he walked back in with a pair of scissors in his hands. Michael looked up at him and felt more obsessed than ever.

“You can do whatever you want to me,” Michael said helplessly. Alex smiled and leaned to grab shampoo from his shower. 

Alex put a folded up towel behind Michael’s neck and leaned his head into the sink. His long fingers combed out the knots in his hair as he drenched it with warm water. Michael’s eyes fell shut and he lost himself in the sensation. By the time Alex was working the shampoo into his hair, he was almost asleep. 

Michael was brought back to the living world by the sound of Alex’s laughter. He opened his eyes to see him above him, eyes shining. It was one of the most relaxed moments he’d ever seen Alex in. He was utterly carefree and comfortable. Michael was a fucking goner.

“You awake?” Alex asked softly. Michael nodded. “Lift your head for me, okay?”

Again, his eyes struggled to stay open as Alex snipped off bits of his hair. Rosa was always quick and efficient when cutting his hair, usually making him laugh and distracting him. Alex, on the other hand, was taking his sweet time. He’d press his body up against his, lean close, blow on his cheek to get fallen hair away, and disperse random touches wherever he could. He was beginning to think Alex could cut all of his hair off and he’d still say thanks.

Alex finished off the cut by combing his hands through his already curling hair. 

“There, you can wake up now,” Alex said, smiling at his work. Michael turned to look in the mirror and saw that it was definitely a bit shorter than he usually went and could anticipate that, once it dried, it would shrink.

“You think I’m still hot?”

“Yeah,” Alex chuckled, using his finger to curl a ringlet over Michael’s forehead. Oh, he was fucked.

“Can I ask you something?” Michael asked after a moment of both of them just staring in the mirror. Alex nodded. “Are you straight?”

Alex furrowed his eyebrows like he couldn’t believe he asked that question. “Why? You into me or something?”

His tone was bordering somewhere between joking and accusatory and it was confusing enough that Michael decided to reel it in completely. Or, as much as he could. It was hard. Too fucking hard.

“Just wondering since you can cut hair and what are we if not stereotypes,” Michael joked. Alex smiled again and rolled his eyes.

“Shut up,” he laughed, walking back into his bedroom. Michael stared at himself in the mirror for a little bit longer. He’d spent over two months now assuming Alex was into him and now he wasn’t sure if he was right. Had he made it up? Had he misread things? Had he seriously fallen for a straight guy? “Guerin, we get it, you’re into yourself!”

Right. Still here.

Michael went back into the bedroom, plastering on his smile so it wouldn’t seem like he was more confused than ever. Alex was laying on his big bed, his laptop propped against his knees.

“Wanna watch a movie?” he asked. Michael’s first thought was yes, followed by that’ll make it worse, followed by who cares.

So, instead of being smart, Michael fell onto Alex’s bed and all but sunk into it. Alex tossed a ball that was on his nightstand and shut the lights off.

“Impressive,” Michael noted.

“Yeah, I know,” Alex laughed. Michael smiled at him helplessly all over again. “What do you wanna watch?”

“I don’t care.”

“Alright, then we’re watching Buffy and starting where I let off in the middle of an episode in the middle of season 5,” Alex threatened. He really didn’t seem to understand that Michael didn’t give a shit as long as he got to lay in his bed with him. 

“Okay.”

“You are so fucking tired,” Alex teased, clicking on the episode that he’d said, “Go to sleep.” Michael furrowed his eyebrows. “Dude, you were falling asleep the whole time in there. Just go to sleep.”

“You sure?” Michael asked, “You gonna wake me up when you wanna kick me out?”

“Yes,” Alex said, still grinning as if this was a normal thing you did with your friends. Which, for Michael, it kinda was, but Alex seemed different. Still, Michael took him up on the offer because he was self-destructive and couldn’t turn down the opportunity.

Michael woke up in the middle of the night to Alex sound asleep on the pillow beside him. Alex had pulled the blanket over them both sometime after he’d fallen asleep and just let him stay. His fingers twitched, eager to touch his hair or his lips or just any part of him. Instead, he kept his hands to himself and turned to face into the pillow, deciding smelling him was a lot safer than looking at him.

They both slept through Alex’s alarms.

All of them.

-

“Your hair looks nice.”

“I’ve done something extremely stupid and I don’t know what to do about it now, help me.”

Isobel blinked in surprise, but Michael didn’t really care that he’d passed on the greeting. It was finally Monday and he’d spent the weekend playing house with Alex, sleeping in the same bed and cooking together and being so fucking domestic that Michael wanted to throw up. This wasn’t real. Alex didn’t like him.

“I think I’m, like, in love or something,” Michael vented. Isobel’s eyes went even wider. “I-I spent the whole weekend with Alex. He cut my hair and we slept together and‒”

“You what?”

“Not like that! Just, in the same bed, and acted like fucking boyfriends minus all the kissing and the cuddling and, Izzy, I want the kissing and cuddling,” Michael vented, dropping his head in his hands. Isobel grabbed his arm.

“Okay, just breathe,” she instructed. He listened. “Look, have you talked to him about it?”

Michael squeezed his eyes shut. “No. Well, I asked him if he was straight, and he sort of avoided the question.”

“Maybe try asking something a little different?”

“Like what?”

“Like a date?”

Michael snapped his head up, probably looking as horrified as he felt. “I can’t do that. He gave me a whole ass place to go where I don’t feel like I’m bothering everyone. If I ask him out and he’s not into it, I ruin that. I don’t want to ruin that.”

“Listen, Michael, I think it’s worth it,” she said softly. He shook his head. “Look at you! I’ve never seen you like this over anyone. That feels like it’s worth it to me.”

Michael gulped and tried to shake off his nerves. It didn’t really work. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she said, “And if kicks you out, then fuck him and you don’t want to stay with a guy who gets that offended.”

Michael felt like she was skipping a few steps in logic, but he also felt like having Alex for real sounded like a fucking fantastic thing. He’d been wanting to kiss him for so long it hurt.

So, that night, when Alex showed up at the shed again, Michael decided he needed to just get it over with or he was going to fucking drown. 

“Hey, can we talk?” Michael asked as normal as possible. Alex smiled that sweet smile and nodded. They both sat on the little bed, facing each other. “So… Promise me you won’t get upset?”

“Why would I?” Alex asked. Michael just stared at him until his smile started to drop. “Yeah, I promise.”

“Okay,” Michael breathed, “So… This whole weekend got me thinking really hard… I like you.” Michael looked away from him and then looked back. Alex’s face didn’t really change. “Like, I like like you. Like running into you that day kinda changed my entire life.”

Alex blinked a few times and turned his head away. Michael could feel his heart dropping. Oh. This is how it goes bad.

“This weekend…” Alex whispered, shaking his head with a scoff. “That was seriously the first time you noticed me?” Alex asked, voice carrying so much more emotion than it usually did that Michael flinched, “That day when you ran into me. You seriously had never noticed me before?”

Michael blinked a few times. “No?”

Alex scoffed, “You know, I used to see you every day and thought you were so fucking cool. For, like, three years I saw you at Bean Me Up, at the Crashdown, at the library, around town. I saw you all the time! I stared at you and admired you and tried my hardest to get your attention without having to actually talk to you because you were so fucking cool!”

Michael leaned away from him, eyebrows furrowed and more confused than ever. He was struggling to follow any of what was being said. How the hell had he been around Alex all that time and never noticed him?

“And when you started talking to me, flirting with me,” Alex went on, laughing dryly, “I really thought that you’d noticed me too. I had really fucking convinced myself that maybe you’d been doing what I was and just fucking pining like a dumbass for three years. I really thought that! I thought that someone as cool as you had somehow noticed me and had been waiting for your moment!”

“Alex, what‒”

“But no,” Alex huffed, “Because you’re too cool. Too self-absorbed and too fucking entitled to older women and rich girls and-and saying you like men but never being seen with one, then I show you I’m rich and suddenly you’re into me? Okay, Guerin.”

“Alex‒” Michael started, stopping that train of thought once Alex got up, “I don’t‒ I’m not‒ Alex!”

“You can still stay here,” Alex said, face still angry and hurt even though he was trying to use a calm tone, “I get you’re not faking that. But don’t fake being into me for my fucking money.”

Alex left him alone and he tried his damnedest to understand what Alex’s thought process had been. He wasn’t sure how he got from point A to point B, but he was sure Alex wasn’t open to hearing his explanation. Mainly because he didn’t have one. Alex had added so many fucking steps that didn’t even exist. How did one person complicate a stupid crush so much?

What the fuck was he missing?

-

“I’m totally over Alex.”

“Michael…”

“No, seriously, I am,” Michael insisted despite the fact that he was sitting in the bleachers at Alex’s football game, rambling over the noise that made up halftime, “I’ve had a few days to think about it and I’m glad he rejected me.”

“Seriously?” Isobel sighed, “I think if you guys just talked, then‒”

“No, I don’t wanna talk. He assumed so much shit about me without asking for clarification, I don’t wanna be with someone like that,” he said firmly. Maybe he still ached for his skin, maybe he still missed his smell, maybe he cried a couple of times, and maybe he couldn’t sleep in the shed anymore because it reminded him too much of Alex, but so what?  

“I think you’re overreacting,” Isobel said softly.

Michael shook his head. “I’m not the one overreacting. Alex freaked out on me for no reason. I don’t need that in my life. And good thing too.”

“...why is it a good thing?”

“Because now I can focus on a guy who actually wants me,” Michael said firmly, “Like the guy at the kissing booth.”

Isobel sighed loudly, “Michael, that was‒”

“I don’t care. He’s gotta still be out there. I want him. He wants me.” 

Michael didn’t look at her because he knew it’d be pity. He was tired of pity. He’d been getting it from her and Rosa all fucking week. Everyone went through tiny heartbreaks, he wasn’t special.

To prove that he wasn’t special, he stood up on the bleachers and whistled as loud as he could. He got a relatively decent-sized audience, including some of the football team, including Alex Manes, so he knew it’d spread to whoever it needed to reach. He threw on his smirk.

“Can I have your attention, please! Three months ago when I did a kissing booth at your fundraiser, one of you lovely men of Atherton kissed me behind the booth! I’ve been looking for you ever since!” he announced loudly. He heard a few whistles in response, fueling him more even as Isobel tugged on his pant leg. “So, I’d like to proposition you, whoever you are! Meet me at Bean Me Up Monday night! Let me get to know you! And, if he’s not here, everyone spread the word so I can find him!” 

Michael sat back onto the bleacher as people whistled and clapped for him as if he was that important. Sometimes, he surely felt he was. When it came to the people of Atherton, they felt he was too.

“What the fuck, Michael?” Isobel hissed.

“What?” he asked, “I was just getting shit done.”

“You could’ve gone about that in a better way.”

However, when Michael looked and saw Alex staring at him with slightly terrified eyes, he really thought he couldn’t have.

[javispunk]

Could you please do a blurb where the reader goes to a party at Harry’s but they both hate it, so they just start talking and then go somewhere else idk

I love the concept, thank you :)

Everyone was confused and mostly very scared. It was understandable; your parents dissapeared without any trace and all of the friendships seemed to be falling apart. And that would only bring chaos, other than anger.

So most people met up at Harry's house, to much of his unagreement, of course. And no one would say no to this party. Sure there would be people that wouldn't show up and that's also understandable. You were one of these people. You didn't really like parties and not for sure in a house that big. You honestly just wanted to stay home, reading a nice book, so you could pretend the world's not fucking upside down.

Y/F/N showed up at your house a few minutes after eight o'clock.

"What brings you to my humble home? Do you wanna watch a movie? I'm pretty sure I can download that one you wanted to see-" she cut me off.

"No way. We're going to Harry's! Get your things." She spoke in a rather calm tone.

You looked at her concerned. "Hum, no. I'm okay, thanks."

"No no no, grab your coat, we're going. I've already settled everything with the rest of the girls."

"You guys can just go, why do I have to?" You asked, stubborness in your speech. "I know you're going just to see Gabe, and Alexa is dying to see Lucas."

"Don't change the subject! Put on some shoes."

You looked at her not moving a muscle.

"Go!" She pushes you into your room.

You eventually gave up. You knew she was just as stubborn as you so you might as well go, and try and have a decent time. You walked to Harry's, you never knew he lived just 10 minutes away from you.

You didn't have to knock on the door, as it was already swung open for everyone to join in. A lot of people were there, most of the teenagers of this town. And that clearly made you uneasy and uncomfortable.

"I don't like this. There's too many people." You said rapidly holding your friend's arm.

"Don't be a coward, c'mon. Just try and have a little fun, please?" She sent you a smile and walked you into the center of the mess of loud people.

You could only fake a smile. You tried to stay involved for as much time as you could. Soon enough you warned your friend that you would head out for a few minutes, just to get some fresh air.

You sat next to the pool, with your legs crossed in front of your body, stretching your arm forward, touching the water with your hand. You looked around for a few seconds, there were people making out, thank god far from you, and some other people talking. They seemed happy and most importantly, distracted. Maybe this turned out to be a good thing. But part of you still saw all this as a mere messed up situation, and you couldn't really take anything good from this experience.

You heard footsteps behind you. As they stopped you looked up. Harry stood still, hands in his pockets, his typical smile parted on his face.

"Not enjoying the party hum?" He spoke.

You never really spoke to him before all this. Or never for that matter.

"Not really no." You spoke in a soft tone, looking at the pool.

He sat down next to you, grunting softly as he hit the floor.

"Why aren't you inside? They're playing truth or dare, like 20 people at a time." You laughed at how stupid that idea was.

"Do you think I would enjoy that?" He paused, looking at the floor. "Everyone's in my house, doing whatever they want, using whatever they need. You're apparently the one only one who isn't." He looked at you, that one sided smirk appearing on his face again.

You copied him. "Well, I am actually sitting on this stone piece" you paused, looking at it "and I've actually touched the water." You laughed and he followed.

You looked at each other for a moment, your laughing fading out slowly, as you turned your head to the floor.

"Aren't you scared?" You finally spoke after a minute. "That this isn't actually our world. Or if it is, how could all these people be signing up to these parties and games and fucking pretending that everything's okay..." Your voice came out quiet at the end of your statement.

You feel his eyes on you. "Yeah. I am." His smile fades, as his eyes rest now on his hands. You started to think about everything that every singe person told you about Harry being arrogant and never wanting anything but the benefit for himself; this person beside you didn't really match up to the description. But then again, you didn't know him.

"I know Cassandra did a really good job on organising everyone and their own tasks, but I'm really fucking scared." You started. "I may be entertained or occupied while I'm cleaning the church or feeding people at the cafeteria, but when I get home it's unbearable." You look him in the eyes.

He corresponds, seeming genuinely concerned with your words. You continued.

"What if our parents don't come home? What if we're waiting for nothing? What if we're just waiting to fucking die here? Winter's coming and there's no food, I checked with Will, he said there's not much left-" Harry's hands grabbed yours and your mind stopped.

"We're going to be fine." His voice came out in a whisper.

"No we're not." Your voice came out shaky, just as soft as his.

"Listen we are here alone. That's the truth. We have to survive. I for sure don't want to fucking die so... yeah, I'm scared but probably of losing everything I have or feeling like I don't really belong in this place."

You looked at him with confusion. "What do you mean you don't belong here? Look around; people are throwing a party in your house. If that isn't recognition for the person you are here, then I don't know what is."

He kept his gaze on you. "Sure, but all this...” he said gesturing his hands in the air, pointing to the house behind us “doesn't actually mean anything to me. This doesn't give me any validation."

"Sure thing." You spoke, not looking at him, as you didn’t believe him.

It was silent for a few seconds before Harry spoke again. "Let's just go then."

You slowly looked up at his face, to see if he was kidding or not. "What?" You laughed.

"Let's go. Let's get out of here." He got up and handed you his right hand for you to hold, so you could get up easily. "We're both miserable here, so we might as well just go somewhere else."

"I was kinda waiting for some friends..." You started. You thought about Y/F/N, that you knew for sure was hooking up with someone, so she wouldn't really feel your absence. You could just text her later that night, telling her you were gone off home sooner. That would actually be believable. "Okay, sure." You grabbed his hand and as you got up he slightly touched the lower of your back with his free hand, supporting your weight.

“I still have my car, that I don’t have to share.” He slightly laughed, letting go of your hand. “But yeah, we can go wherever you want.”

You looked at his car parked not too far, for a brief moment. “Would you just like to go drive around all night?” You suggested.

He grabbed his keys out of his pocket as he started walking, after briefly smiling at you; you soon followed.

As you entered his car, he sat on his seat a couple seconds later. Hell, you even noticed the way he moved. There was no denying he was handsome, everyone knew that, but people always talked bad about him. He then interrupted your thoughts.

“Music or no music?” he gestured to the radio, with his usual smile on his face.

You couldn’t help but smile back. “Sure.”

He nodded his head one more time before turning the car radio. Soon he turned the ignition and started driving.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. It was a message from Y/F/N. You quickly read it.

“Did you just actually left in Harry’s car?” Fuck. You responded right away.

“It’s okay, I’ll be home in a minute.” You typed. Not a minute later, your phone buzzed again.

“He’s not a good person, please just go home Y/N.” You read.

You looked at the boy sitting next to you for a few seconds. “I will. Text me when you get home as well.”

The drive was made mostly in silence; but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You sometimes would look at him, questioning the reason why he didn’t seemed that asshole type kinda guy, that everyone described.

“You know most people have a pretty strong opinion on you.” You started, leaving him space to continue your speech.

“Hum, yes.” He said, never taking his eyes off the road.

“Would you say that’s the truth?”

He opened his mouth to speak but stopped for a moment, thinking, slightly snorting at your question. “I don’t know. Would you?” He looked at you for a moment, before glueing his eyes on the street in front of him.You looked at him for a few seconds, clearly not having a clear answer. He looked at you for a second and smiled again. “I don’t really know. I guess people make up their minds as they want.” He paused for a moment “I just show them what I want, like everyone else.”

“I guess you’re right. People do make their own minds, sometimes too fast.” You softly spoke.

“What is your veredict then?” He used once again his stupidly charming smile.

“You’re okay Bingham.” You looked at the road, containing your wide smile.

[hellomissmabel]

The Girl From The Village part 1

MASTERLIST

AO3 account

Pairing: Steve x reader

Warnings: Cheating. Death by car accident, and by infection. Physical assault, breaking and entering.

Word count: 5k

Summary: Still grieving for her husband’s death, Captain America is the last person Y/N expects to show up at her door. Their fate is connected in a peculiar way, one that sparks an unusual friendship. Yet Y/N still isn’t sure she wants to be included in this particular narrative.

A/N: written for @nataliarxmanxva and the prompt is in italics. I know this first part is extremely heavy, but the second part will be much lighter, I promise!

Series masterlist can be found here

I married young, fresh out of high school with my prom dress as inspiration for my wedding dress. I married the first fool that told me he loved me. He was a car freak and tweaked at his father’s vintage car collection over the weekend. Some say I married up, with a real gentleman that treats me like a queen. Others say he married down, and even though I’m a beautiful butterfly, our love will only last a couple seasons before the butterfly gets stripped of her wings.

So it’s only fitting that for this year’s Halloween walk around town, I dress myself up as a dark forest nymph, with withered, ghostly butterfly wings. As an annual tour guide, I escort the kids, teenagers and other youngsters around different haunted locations. At the end of the night, there’s a party for those who can’t get enough of the nightly terrors and an open bar for the other who, like myself, just need a drink to come down from all the screams.

As I sit down on one of the long bar stools, waving over the bartender with a kind smile, I check my phone for any missed calls or messages. There’s one from my mother-in-law who tried to reach me about an hour and I cringe at the reminder of our last conversation, a neat little bruise high on my cheek bone where she slapped me right in the face, now covered up by a thick layer of make-up.

She had already warned me that she was going to do that if she ever saw me again. But I just wanted to return our wedding album I borrowed from her husband, my father-in-law, last spring. He seems the be one of the few people that understand my situation, having experiences the very same emotions I went through. Of course he’ll never talk to his wife about this, or she will be just as ‘sympathetic’ to him as she is to me.

“Why the long face, Y/N?,” the bartender comments on my sullen appearance as he makes me a Bloody Mary on the house.

Sighing while I cup the glass in both my hands, I take a sip from the red liquid. “Family issues. As usual.” The bartender, Jimmy, tells his colleague to take over for a minute as he leans on the counter and listens to what you have to say.

“She still thinks it’s my fault. Everything is always my fault. Last Monday she gave me a shiner. But how else was I going to give back our wedding album to her, hm? Mail it to them? Come on…”

“Don’t, Y/N. Jared would want you to be happy.”

“She was the one that set me up with her son in the first place. I mean, she probably regrets that now. She regrets many things, she told me. Yet she makes it look like I don’t regret anything at all. I’m fine with taking the blame because I deserve it. But I refuse to be her patsy, I can’t control every element of her and my life.”

“Of course you can’t, sweetie, you’re only human.” Jimmy squeezes your shoulder. “I gotta go back now, I’ve got customers waiting, but I’m always here if you wanna talk. And remember sweetie, you’re a wonderful human being and you’re gonna get through this.”

The walk home is silent, with my headphones on and in comfortable loneliness. These last few weeks have been nothing but comfortable loneliness. I have gotten used to being on my own so I don’t feel as lonely anymore as before. But I still clearly remember a time when I was surrounded by people, when I was loved by everybody in this little town instead of shunned by half.

That night, you don’t even bother to take off your make-up properly, not yet ready to see the blue-ish bruise on my cheek shine in the soft bathroom light. It’s only when morning comes that you regret ever not taking it off, scrubbing and rubbing at the best of your abilities until your face is red and swollen from the exertion. Exhausted again, you crawl onto the couch with a warm blanket or two and some Halloween-themed cornflakes, reminiscing about Jared, and Tom.

A strong knock to the door startles you as it disrupts your trail of destructive thoughts. Getting up with a heavy feeling in your bones, you drag yourself from the safety of the couch and towards the front door. When you open it, it’s like the wind is knocked right from your lungs.

“Hi,” the blond says shyly, giving you a warm half-smile as awe transforms his face. “I’m sorry to show up here unannounced, but I was hoping to talk to you. You’re Y/N right?”

“And who may you be?,” you ask a little defensive, your evident surprise putting you straight on edge.

“I’m Steve, Steve Rogers,” he replies as he goes through his hair with long, slender fingers.

Steve Rogers. You’re going over in your mind where you’ve heard the name before, until it finally clicks and recognition dawns on your face. “Captain America?,” you whisper under your breath, a couple curses on the tip of your tongue. “What is Captain America doing on my doorstep?”

“Like I said, I wanted to talk to you. I saw you in Brooklyn, like a month ago, is that possible?”

You nod since you have been in Brooklyn for a baby shower last September, but unfortunately you don’t remember running into none other than Steve Rogers. If you had, surely you would remember? “Come in,” you offer hesitantly as you size him from head to toe. He’s just like the news reports show, tall and muscly and all bulging biceps.

He waits for you to sit down before he takes a seat opposite of you, wringing his sweaty palms together. “So I’m just gonna… say it,” he chuckles wryly, embarrassment rolling off him in thick waves. “I was in Brooklyn getting some groceries when I saw you walk up to one of the apartments across the street. You were wearing a soft blue dress with a red bow in your hair. Your hair was pinned up like they did back in the forties and you looked very classy.”

As he finishes his appreciative description of your vintage outfit and matching looks that day, you’re already blushing like a lobster. But Steve isn’t finishes yet. “The resemblance was uncanny,” he gushes softly, taking his wallet and fishing out an old photograph. Steve shows it to you and you take it in the palm of your hand, very carefully.

Tentatively you speak with a quiet voice and tender eyes. “She does look like me. A lot.” Your thumb smooths over the black and white surface. She’s in some kind of uniform, ready to salute, her red-painted lips holding a perfect smile while her eyes glisten with genuine heartiness.

“She was a chorus girl. Her name was Naomi.” His eyes dart from the picture in my hands to mine and back. “She was one of the brightest souls I’ve ever met. Really talented performer, so good they sent her with me to the battlefield to cheer up the men.”

Your eyelashes flutter softly as you try to hold in your emotions, moved by how his voice seems to break under the pressure of his words. “She was special. Bucky and I, we were smitten by her. When I rescued him from where they held him imprisoned, she was there to nurse him. Bucky… He – euhm, he was a little infatuated. But Naomi, she only had eyes for me.”

With a little laugh, he accepts the picture as you give it back to him. “Naomi stood up for me and kind of… tamed the other girls. One guy taking on at least a dozen show girls… that’s just too much oestrogen for little Stevie here to handle. Even though I wasn’t so little anymore.”

After pocketing it back in his wallet,  he fidgets with his hands in his lap. “Some of the girls didn’t have lads at home and could get a little handsy from time to time, but it was always very innocent. They missed having a man around, so I sort of became their man. But Naomi… With her it was different… She – euhm, she was my first.”

Your eyebrows knit together as something snaps inside of you. “If you’re here hoping to get laid by a lookalike of your forties sweetheart, then you better get out of here before I kick you out.”

Steve gapes at you, his pupils flared in surprise as he stutters and stammers to correct himself. “No, no that’s not why I’m here at all. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m just here to talk, promise.”

The corner of your mouth twitches as your lips are set in a thin, stern line, jaw still clenched tight. You believe him. “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean to be so rude. I jumped to the wrong conclusion.”

The colour slowly returns to his face as you relax your shoulders, a flush creeping up on you as a more positive connotation settles in your thoughts. This chorus girl, Naomi, who looks so much like you, was Captain America’s first time fooling around. That must be a compliment in that, right?

“What happened to her?,” you query gently, noticing the Captain’s cheeks are turning from pink to pale white again.

The Captain is fighting back the tears and he squeezes them shut as he remembers her, clearing his throat first before answering. “She took a hit when Bucky fell of the train. Naomi had caught some kind of infection from the battlefield and when she heard about Bucky… She lost her will to fight. She was devastated.”

You get up from the couch and join his side once you notice how hard this is on him. Placing your hand on his knee, it gives Steve a little boost to continue. “Yet we made each other a promise. I’d get back from the war and she’d get better. She’d hook me up with Peggy and I’d find her a nice lad, too. But instead of keeping that promise…”

“You ended up in the ice, trying to save the world,” you finish his sentence for him. “I’m sure she knew. I’m sure she knew you did what you had to do.”

“Naomi was one of the first people to ever appreciate me for me. To her I wasn’t just some bulky and weird science project, but a real man. She didn’t know me before I became Captain America, but she assured me she would’ve loved me just the same.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Steve,” you whisper softly. “I know what it feels like to lose someone that special.”

Steve shifts his body towards you, interest peaking his ears. “My husband, Jared, died last year,” you explain as an uneasy mood strikes you. This is the first time you’re actually willing, prepared, just ready to talk about it.

“Jared and I, we were everybody’s favourites, so naturally we were bound to fall in love. High school sweethearts, you know...” Your mouth has run dry so you run to the kitchen and fetch yourself a glass of water, offering Steve a drink too.

“We got married shortly after we finished high school, before we were supposed to go to college. Jared had already procured his placed at an Ivy League University and soon thereafter I earned a scholarship to the same one, too. I didn’t want Jared’s help, I didn’t want to thrive off his last name. I insisted on earning my place.”

Returning with two glasses, you sit cross-legged next to Steve, holding on tightly to both your glass as well as your heart. “We had a solid relationship. We had a good marriage. But we married too young, there were others things we still wanted to do other than being married. Sure, we loved each other and wanted to grow old together, but after a while there was no passion, no excitement, no sparks flying anymore.”

Steve listens intently, nodding here and there whenever he believes it’s most constructive. The sound of your voice is somehow soothing to his own grief. He wants closure just as much as you do. he thought that by going to see you, he’d be able to turn the page. But one page can wait a little longer if he can help you move on to the next chapter, too.

“Two summers ago, I met another guy, Tom. Jared had flown to Europe for his internship and would be away for two full months, maybe longer. We’d just graduated and the whole world seemed to be at our feet. Tom was here visiting some family and one of my friends, his cousin, brought him along to a party.”

Inhaling deeply, that night’s events still freshly engraved in our mind, you attempt to suppress the flashbacks and the memories by holding your breath. Steve tells you it’s alright, his hand rubbing circles on your back to help you level your breathing. “It’s okay. You can tell me, I won’t judge.”

“Nobody ever talks about summer love like it’s going to last, you know? You don’t expect a summer fling to last. But Tom… he took me hiking one day and we’d just lay in the grass looking at the clouds changing, holding hands. Tom adored me. He was so easy to adore, too. So we kept it going for longer than just the summer, long after Jared had returned...”

Your glass is empty and it’s like you’re staring into a bottomless pit. “Tom got a job here, because I asked him to. Jared never suspected anything. Of course I still loved him and Jared still loved me, but the chemistry between us had long died down. The most intimate moments with Tom were our hikes, when we could just… be together. Period. It wasn’t about the sex, it was about something much deeper.”

Looking up into Steve’s baby blue eyes, you recognise the same remorse, the same regret that’s flooding your system as we speak. He was in love with Peggy, yet allowed himself to fall for Naomi as well. “If you don’t mind me askin’… How did Jared die, love?”

“Jared was supposed to take one of his dad’s vintage cars out for a spin. He wanted to take me with him and maybe organise a little picnic with just the two of us. He got home early from work to prepare for everything. I knew Jared inside out and he probably thought he should do some warming up first so he could impress me with his driving skills. But the car hadn’t been out of the garage for ages and didn’t receive a regular check-up either. Jared crashed into a tree because the brakes didn’t function properly.”

Crying softly into the blond’s shoulder, the super soldier wraps his arm around your waist and comforts you silently, giving your emotions free reign. “His mother likes to blame me for what happened. She needs someone to blame.”

“It’s not your fault, Y/N,” Steve whispers into your hair. “None of it is your fault.”

“If I hadn’t been in the woods with Tom, I would’ve had reception and I would’ve heard my phone ring.” Detaching yourself from his sturdy frame, you try to make yourself look presentable again by wiping away the tears and putting your hair up in a messy ponytail. “The whole town soon found out. She made sure of that. I’m the town’s sweetheart that became the town’s scapegoat.”

“Y/N…, don’t think like that, doll. You can always move…”

“I can’t move. Everything reminds me of Jared and I wanna hold on to his memory. At one point, I couldn’t take it anymore and considered going back to New York where I did my internship. But if I move back to New York, I risk running into Tom again and I can’t… Too much has happened.”

Your red-rimmed eyes find his and as they lock, his phone rings loudly, breaking the tender atmosphere surrounding you like a safety net. “I’m sorry, Y/N, but I gotta go. The team is wondering where I am. I wish I could’ve stayed longer to talk. Maybe I can come over again? Somewhere next week?”

“I have a day off on Wednesday and I can start later on Thursday, so then we have plenty of time to talk.”

Steve nods softly, making a mental note of your appointment. “So I’ll see you next Wednesday.”

“Thank you, Steve, for listening.” You don’t feel exonerated, but there’s a small sliver relief at the end of your tunnel, guiding you to a better mindset, helping you grieve. All thanks to Steve.

“Thank you, Y/N, for your trust. And for not screaming when I showed up at your door.”

You both chuckle at this and after watching Captain America get back into his car and drive back towards the highway, a warm and fuzzy feeling has lit up your chest. You didn’t hear from Steve anymore as you forgot to exchange numbers. But figuring that he’s Captain America, an Avenger, working together with Tony Stark, he would’ve found a way to contact you if he needed to. Next Wednesday couldn’t be here fast enough.

So to ease the nerves, you started baking as early as Tuesday morning. You worked at the shelter and the adjoining pet store and had an hour lunch break during which you made the decorations and toppings for your cupcakes. And when you got home around half past five, you started baking even more; from cookies to pie to even croissants for breakfast should Steve show up as early as eight a.m.

Steve arrived a little after eleven in the morning and he also brought a guest. When you opened the door this time, you expected to see just the blond super soldier, and not a certain metal-armed assassin that’s been all over the news as of late.

“Y/N, I know I should’ve called or at least texted you, but we were sent from one mission to the other and…” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration with himself. “I’m so sorry, that’s not an excuse. But I still hope you don’t mind Bucky tagging along. I let it slip that I tracked you down and he kind of wanted to see for himself.”

By now, Bucky’s jaw has gone slack, his mouth agape as he sizes you up. “She’s just like Naomi, Steve.”

Unsure of how to react, you invite them in, Steve pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek as a greeting and Bucky giving you an awkward wave. “I told ya, didn’t I, Buck?,” Steve chuckles to his friend as you show them inside.

“I doubt that I look exactly like her. I mean, I don’t have the size of a show girl let alone the legs for it,” you mumble as you neatly arrange all the pastries on your kitchen table. The two men protest and assure you’re just as stunning as Naomi, no matter your size.

“Did you make all this just for us?,” Steve asks you as he sits down closest to the apple pie, the scent tickling his nostrils with delicious intent, exchanging an impressed look with Bucky.

“Well,” you blush shyly, “I actually made it just for you, since I didn’t think you’d bring a guest. But I think there’s enough to feed two mouths. If not, I can always bake more.”

Bucky shakes his head, grinning boyishly at you as his flesh hand reaches for one of the chocolate chip cookies. “This is more than enough, Y/N, thank you so much.”

You spent the rest of the day talking to the two super soldiers, enjoying the fruits of your labour with their stomachs filled to the brim and crumbs everywhere in your kitchen.

“So what do you do for a living?,” Bucky inquires before taking another forkful of his plum pie with dark chocolate topping.

Putting down your cherry and cream muffin, you take a napkin and dap the corners of your mouth clean. “I’m actually a vet. I work at the pet shelter and help out at the pet store on the regular. I used to have a dog, Sam. Well, actually she was Jared’s dog, a black Labrador. She died after our first year of marriage.”

The table grows silent, Bucky’s heart aching for Y/N as he envisions how much it would hurt if his own service dog died. “Steve’s been thinking about adopting a dog,” Bucky blurts out all of a sudden, taking Steve by surprise.

Sure, he’d been thinking about getting a service dog just like Bucky. But then again, he didn’t think he’d have the time to take care of the little fella if he did get one. For now, it’s been a constant game of pro and cons in his mind. His heart, however, tells him to just do it and adopt.

Your eyes light up at Bucky’s comment. “You can come to the shelter with me some day, if you want to?”

Bucky nudges Steve’s side, giving him an encouraging sideway glance. “Y-y-yeah,” Steve stammers softly, “That would be great.”

“I don’t mind walking around town a little while you guys go to the shelter,” Bucky announces a little too quickly and too eager for Steve’s taste. He’s trying to play matchmaker, a role solely reserved for Nat. But Bucky wouldn’t be Bucky if he didn’t at least attempt to be a good Cupid.

The shelter appears to be a lot smaller on the outside than it is on the inside, providing enough space for the pets to roam freely. The owner, Jensen, greets you with a big, toothy smile and gives Steve a firm handshake, patting his arm as he remains completely oblivious as to who he actually has in front of him. Maybe it’s for the best, you reason.

“Steve’s interesting in adopting a dog,” you pitch the idea to Jensen, your shoulder brushing briefly with Steve’s as you both try to follow after Jensen. He apologises immediately, as do you, and like a true gentleman he allows you go to first.

“Awesome! I also just had an elderly lady in that was interested in adopting three cats!,” he boasts while he guides you around the desk and out back where the dogs out. “She’ll come back on Saturday. I won’t be in on Saturday, gotta keep the wife happy and take her and my little girl to big city for some shopping. But you’ll be here, so the shelter will be in very capable hands.”

At the moment, there are fifteen dogs at the shelter. Steve’s interest is instantly captured by one of the smaller dogs. “Hey there buddy,” he coos at the little pup, scratching behind its ear. “I like this one,” he smiles up at you with matching puppy dog eyes. He’s already head over heels for the little golden retriever.

“Ah yeah… that one’s name is Scout. One of six puppies that came in about a month ago. The owner couldn’t take care of six pups and asked me if I could take on four of them. Scout here is the smallest and we believe he won’t grow up to be a very big dog. But don’t be fooled by his size, this fella’s got a really big heart.”

You could sense by the way Steve interacted with Scout that it was a match made in heaven, so it didn’t take the blond long to decide he wanted to adopt the little pup. After making sure the papers were all signed and in order, Steve and Scout were now a fact. Bucky was overjoyed when he saw Steve approach with Scout asleep in his arms. You wanted to invited them for dinner, but Bucky and Steve kindly turned down your offer as they still had a long drive back to New York.

“I promise to take good care of Scout.”

“I’ll hold you to that promise, Cap,” you hum warmly as you hug the two Avengers goodbye.

“And I’ll call you, too. I have your number now,” Steve winks and prompts a heavy red blush to tint your cheeks. He pecks your cheek one last time before disappearing into the car and Bucky insisted joining him on the driver’s side since Steve had already driven all the way out here.

With Steve and Bucky gone again, you had nothing left to wrap your mind around anymore. You fill your days with the same activities and the same thoughts as you have done before the blond arrived. He calls you every now and then, and even lets Scout take over his cell phone. But it just isn’t the same anymore. Your friendship with Steve, if you can call it a friendship at all, is solely based on your resemblance with Naomi, Steve’s chorus girl. There’s no way a man like Steve would ever be friends with a woman like you if it wasn’t for that particular reason.

So when Steve invites you to spend a few days with Bucky and him in New York, you feign illness and tell them you’ve been taking ill by the flu. When a second request arrives, another excuse is made up. Until Steve offers it a third time and comes to get you in person.

He doesn’t expect to find the house in a complete state of utter disaster, your door ajar and your walls clad with red spray paint. There are words scribbled on the front of your house, such as ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, and once he walks inside he sees the true damage that has been done. Your house is no longer a house, it’s a wreck, overtaken by the work of vandals.

You’re huddled in the corner of your bedroom and when you hear footsteps approaching, you crawl in your closet, afraid the men who did this have come back to hurt you even more. You’re wearing your pyjamas, or what’s left of it, and are extremely cold since all your windows have been shattered and the icy winter wind has full access to your chilly bones.

Steve crouches down next to you, embracing you in his strong, warm arms in an attempt to get your temperature up. He asks you what happened, but you refuse to reply. He asks you if you want to see a doctor, but you shake your head no. So he’s left with no choice and hoists you up in his arms to take you the shelter where he knows Jensen will be able to help you out.

The first thing that comes to Jensen’s mind is “not again”. Steve gives him a puzzled and baffled look, which he answers with a regretful smile. You’ve passed out on the couch in Jensen’s private quarters at the back of the shelter, giving the doctor time to assess your injuries.

“She’s fine. They tore her clothes apart just to scare her, but her injuries show no signs of a sexual assault. Well, we won’t know for sure until she’s ready to tell us what happened, but they didn’t rape her last time, so I don’t think…”

“Wait, this has occurred before?,” Steve interjects, smoothing over your hair.

“They’re trying to bully her away. Some guys from the edge of town who heard about her history with Tom.” Jensen runs a hand down his face and groans. “They never entered her house in the past, they’d only mess with her garden or the outer skeleton of the house. But things have… escalated since people spotted you at her place.”

“So this is all my fault,” Steve concludes from Jensen’s words, cradling your body against his as he notices the goose bumps rising on your skin.

“Hey, man,” Jensen rests his hand on Steve shoulder as a sign of comfort, “That’s not true. Those kind of people… they don’t need much to start a riot. Y/N has been keeping to herself since Jared died. Once in a while a friend would pay her a visit. Sometimes this friend would be a guy. And they know he’s just a friend, but that doesn’t stop them.”

Steve gets the bigger picture and is even more adamant than before to get you out of this town and give you the life you deserve. He keeps watch by your side for the rest of the afternoon, until you wake up in the middle of the night crying out his name and he has to console you until the early morning light sets in.

“There were three of them. Again the same guys. They broke into my house, expecting me to be still at work. But I wasn’t feeling very well so I took half the day off. I walked in on them and they just…” You bite your quivering lip, crossing your arms over your chest. “They just lost it. They attacked me on the street once before and just bruised my face, cut my hand, tripped me on the sidewalk… Yet this time, they made sure to beat me up real good.”

“Please, Y/N,” the captain pleads with you, “This has to stop. Come to New York with me.”

He can see you’re in doubt, the memory of your late husband fighting to stay in this little, wretched town where it all began. But there a part of you that’s crawling its way out of the deepest, darkest depths of your disgrace in an attempt to find the light again. And it’s Steve that awakens that part in you the most. Whenever he’s around, you don’t feel the pain or the heartache as much anymore. It’s like he’s a catalyst of better times ahead. It’s like he’s your antidote to the sorrow threatening to swallow you whole.

So you agree to come with him to New York.

Tagging: @avengerofyourheart @a-little-hell-to-raise @marvelingatthewonder @mrshopkirk @hardcorehippos @knittingknerdy @winterboobaer @italwaysendsinafightt @viollettes @hymnofthevalkyrie @feelmyroarrrr @justareader @austinamelio @volklana @howlingbarnes @themcuhasruinedme @theoneandonlysaucymo @caplansteverogers @amrita31199 @emilyevanston @minervaem @howlingbarnes @buchananbarnestrash @youandb @you-and-bucky @fvckingsteverogers @thatawkwardtinyperson @barnes-heaven @that-sokovian-bastard @abovethesmokestacks @marvelrevival @marvel-fanfiction @justanotherbuckydevotee @barnes-heaven @heartmade-writingbucky @buckyywiththegoodhair @captnbarnesrogers @its-not-a-phase-hux @melconnor2007 @ivvitm1109 @toofuckinfabulous @ailynalonso15 @hollycornish @delicatecapnerd @camigt1999 @learisa @curlyexpat @palaiasaurus64 @fanndas-snow-goddess @crisssivonne @yourenotrogers @tomhollandzs @supernaturaldean65 @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep @aletheladyinred @sniktlogan @xbergiex @reniescarlett @promarvelfangirl @capbuckybuchanan @lovemarvelousfics @yknott81 @rrwilson66 @pegasusdragontiger @salty-holographic-stickers @sammyissassy @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @kudosia @bellejeunefillesansmerci @lumelgy @mizzzpink @southernbellestatues @daringtodreamawake @neurotic-narwhal @cokamarie24 @blue1928 @movingonto-betterthings @breezy1415 @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for @jesspfly @weenie-butt @debzybrazy @fuckingchaotic  @always-an-evans-addict @petersunderroos  @thegreentgirl @nedthegay @eve1978 @yourtropegirl

Strikethrough means Tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you!

[markoftheasphodel]

Shadows of Valentia Top Ten -- #1 Lukas: The Messenger

Well, I am who I am. I imagine I should stop hoping for more.

Sometimes canon gives you a character so precisely attuned to your biases that you can't believe it's actually real.

Lukas. The name means "bringer of light" so it's fitting he's the one who sounds the Call to Arms for Alm's particular Hero's Journey. My assumption regarding Lukas headed into the remake was pretty simple-- he'd be, like, Alm's surrogate-brother guy. His death quote in OG Gaiden references Alm, he was in the Team Alm banner for FE Heroes along with Clair & Faye aka Alm's fangirl squad, so I figured he and Alm would be bros. Or, you know, "bros" with the usual wink-wink stuff.

Yeah, well, they're not bros like that. Everything about it is way more complicated, from the position Lukas holds as the younger son of a noble but not-very-illustrious house to what's going on inside of his head. On the surface, he's this incredibly pleasant and reasonable guy. Take the scene where he agrees to bring Alm & Friends back to the Deliverance and Lukas assures Tobin that it's fine to have a not-idealistic motivation like money for joining the army. What a cool guy! So open-minded and reassuring to the village kiddies! What a great Team Mom he is.

Three base conversations later, we find out Lukas himself had zero motivation to join the Deliverance or any other army and was in fact sent there by an elder half-brother who plainly didn't care whether Lukas lived or died and most likely would've been A-OK with his little brother coming home in a box. And Lukas relays this with a small smile and no emotional shading whatsoever, like he's discussing the weather. On the one hand, it comes out of left field, but on the other hand, this was set up from the moment he recruited Tobin: "It's OK not to have heroic motives for being here. I don't. :)"

This happens a great deal with Lukas, as pieces of characterization flow forward and backward across the main game script, the support conversations, and the Rise of the Deliverance DLC. That big confrontation he has with Fernand at Deliverance HQ turns out to have a massive and meaningful backstory. Any alarm bells that ring when he gives Alm advice on conducting a "good-hearted" invasion of Rigel that's bound to have casualties rise to a crescendo at the finale to Rise of the Deliverance when Lukas uses civilian hostages as a bargaining chip in dealing with Chancellor Desaix. He seems more than a little irreverent towards Valentia's gods and the “old children’s tale” of a prophesied hero even as he acts out a self-aware role in fulfilling said prophecy-- emphasis on the self-aware part as I don't think that can be overlooked. And that perpetually even-keeled niceness turns out not to be a front for something more troubling but a result of his central conflict as a character.

Lukas doesn't feel things like other people and he's not happy about it. Deep visceral emotions like rage, envy, and romantic passion are outside his experience. I'm not going to digress into the root cause of his state of being, whether he's good or bad representation of whatever it is he's representing... assuming the writers didn't get lucky when assembling him. We don't know if this is an organic disconnect or something that developed from how he was treated by his father and half-brother or a combination of both... or if someone on the writing staff wanted a character "like that" and didn't think too hard as to why and were just savvy enough not to use "magic" as a reason. But it's the through-line of his one in-game support with Clive and the big reveal of his DLC support with Python and it manifests in everything else from the glimpses he gives of his ungood family life to his final battle quote. Killing a god? That could potentially be exciting.

Setting aside the issue of whether or not it takes deicide for Lukas to get his rocks off, instead of being bros with Alm, reboot!Lukas has clearly imprinted on Clive (the only character whose death Lukas mourns post-chapter) and their dialogue at the end of Rise of the Deliverance is a wonderful scene that evoked memories of reading about historical generals dealing with the aftermath of real-life battles like Shiloh. Yet their support chain goes pear-shaped immediately as Clive praises Lukas for his cold and analytical nature aka the very thing Lukas doesn't especially like about himself. This is not your standard senior knight/junior knight mentoring here, as Clive steps in it during the C support, causing Lukas to stew and then unleash (by his standards) an outburst in the B support, and then Clive makes a transparent and clumsy attempt to make it all better in the A-support at the end of the war. Sounds like they haven't talked much about anything deep in the interim. And the way it wraps up, with Lukas saying "Why do you keep me around if not for my greatest virtue?" is probably self-deprecating humor, but who knows?

Then too there's a sense of containment in spite of his network his friends in the Deliverance (and both his Clive support and his Heroes dialogue show a clear-eyed and unsentimental take on said friends). Everyone thinks well of him but should he die, no one person takes a time-out to mourn him. His ending, though fitting and satisfying, is fixed and the loss of Clive or the others won't change it. Doesn't sound like he finds value in his background as a middle-tier noble, which he's basically repudiating by Act V anyway. Oh yeah, and even before the main game he's rejected his blood family, declaring he has no home with them anymore. One can only assume the lady he was courting (as referred to in the Python supports) never hears from him again.

Back to the prophecy. If Clive gets the Dorias role in this as the voice of flawed traditionalism and a certain strain of idealism that goes with it, Lukas takes on the role inhabited by August (and then Soren) as the pragmatist who gets shit done, the one willing to metaphorically and literally dirty his hands-- while both of them were in on the hostage plot, Clive’s the one affected by their actions. Lukas doesn’t appear to have any qualms. In another possible echo of the way August groomed Leif for his role, Lukas appears to grasp well before the Big Reveal that what they're all doing with Alm isn't giving a kid an army and turning him loose, but actually making a hero. Despite his skepticism of the whole “hero prophecy” thing, in trying to shape the narrative of the invasion of Rigel, in saying what he does and doesn't when Alm picks up the Royal Sword, possibly all the way back in Ram Village when he recruits five teenagers instead of the veteran leader he was sent to collect, there's an undercurrent of craft to what Lukas is doing. How curious that this deliberately literate character is the one speaking in terms of "taming myths" and of messaging while Clive (who also knows about the prophecy) is fretting over bloodlines and whether not he bet on the wrong colt. 

I've seen some speculation that Mycen tipped off Lukas to the grand plan during the failed "recruitment" and I don't think that's entirely true because the Royal Sword scene is the rare moment where Lukas sounds shocked, but even if Mycen didn't give him the crib notes I think Lukas pieces together enough that by the invasion of Rigel he is trying to make sure hero suitable to the prophecy shows up at Rigel Castle. Why else establish that he and Clive are actively thinking about the identity of the hero? For lulz and irony, maybe. Maybe, but there’s all the other stuff above to take into account..

So, Lukas. Coldly competent, sweetly fucked-up, calculating as hell, genuinely nice, turning a dry and unsparing eye and a polite smile upon the world. He uses my favorite FE weapon class and he really just wants to lose himself in a book. And hanging above him is that undefined and seemingly unattainable "more" that we never can know for sure if he actually finds, or at least finds peace in the lack thereof. And we never do find out what his "ambition" was referred to in his retreat quote even was before he apparently (?) let it go. Don’t pity him, though-- he’s not asking for pity, and he’s not allowing himself regret.

[smhtxmhxlland]

Quit

Artist: Cashmere Cat

Relationship: Reader X Peter Parker

Summary: You meet Peter, but you’re afraid to open up because of a dark past experience. 

Warnings: Dark Past

Word Count: 2,020

Want a Song?

You weren’t always so dark.

People loved you. 

Until they didn’t. 

You became quite shallow once your fellow peers began to push you away. After that horrid day that destroyed your life…..your reputation, nothing was the same. The only person to stick around had been a few of your close friends. Everyone made sure to keep their distance.

It didn’t make sense.

You asked over and over. Why?

Why had you become the devil when he held his head high? You hadn’t done anything wrong. Yet you were the one who everyone had suddenly feared. As if what he had done to you was contagious. Like, if they touched you, maybe no one would want to touch them. 

Unfortunately your friends didn’t have an answer. They encouraged you to forget about it. That they were there for you. That they would help you, and that they loved you no matter what. 

It didn’t keep it from eating at your insides. 

You sighed as the clock noisily ticked over your left shoulder. Scribbling down your final answer, you inwardly cursed as you stood to make your way to the front of the class. You dropped your test into the wired tray that sat at the edge of the teacher’s desk, then carefully walked back to your seat with your eyes glued to the ground. 

Your eyes flicked up at the sound of shoes scraping against the ugly tiled floor of the classroom. However, your reaction had been too late. The boy smacked into you on your journey to the back of the class. You groaned slightly when his elbow made contact with your rib.

“Oh god! I’m so sorry.” His voice came out in a rush, slightly squeaky as he apologized, startled. 

You glared up at him slightly and hurriedly pushed past him. You kept your reputation the same. The reputation that earned you the hushed whispers, not-so-secretly calling you the Devil. Your eyes had torn through his skin.

Sitting down, you watched the boy as he walked the rest of the way to the desk and set his finished exam into the tray, just as you had. He turned around and his eyes found yours. Heat soared through your body as your eyes met. Your cheeks flared and the breath was taken from you.

You hadn’t noticed him before, but he was beautiful. You knew his name, Peter Parker, but only from roll being called at the beginning of class everyday. You suddenly regretted being so rude to him. It wasn’t often that someone offered kindness to you. Even when they do bump you in the hallways, he had apologized without hesitation. 

“Since everyone is done, I believe I can introduce our next homework assignment.” Your teacher’s wretched voice crashed through your thoughts, pulling you back to the real world.

Peter looked back at you, and your cheeks flared back up again. You tried mouthing the words ‘sorry’ to him, but he didn’t see you. He wasn’t seeing you at all. You didn’t realize he’d just been staring at the clock until the final bell rang, indicating that school was over. Your heart tore apart a bit as he wasted no time in packing his things and rushing out of the classroom. Almost as if it was on fire.

“Slow down. So you feel bad because you didn’t tell him it was fine that he bumped into you?”

You nodded at your friend as you both took your time walking to a nearby coffee shop. 

She laughed a bit. “That’s ridiculous, he probably didn’t even notice.”

“Okay, well then why do I feel so terrible?” You asked her, but mostly asked yourself. 

You had become an expert in the art of not caring. Ever since people had turned their back on you and treated you like you killed puppies for a living….you had stopped paying attention to the glares. Why was this boy suddenly so different than the rest. It came to you slowly.

“He didn’t glare at me. (Y/B/F), he genuinely looked worried.”

She hummed to herself, opening the shop’s door. You both sat in our regular booth and she didn’t speak until she was settled.

“Okay, so he’s a human.”

You rolled my eyes. She wasn’t hearing you. 

“No! He didn’t look at me like I did anything wrong. You know all the rumors that went around last year. He looked at me like he never heard any of them before.”

She sighed, looking at you. “Honey, no one cares about those rumors anymore. It’s all in your head.”

This angered you. She knew that wasn’t true. You were still treated like you didn’t belong anymore. You were still the outcast and no one cared about how you felt. This was an overreaction, but you couldn’t get his gaze out of your head. 

“Wait,” You said suddenly, pulling yourself away from your brainstorm. “he’d been staring at the clock. He nearly knocked everyone out of the way trying to get out of the classroom. Don’t you find that the least bit odd?”

She nodded, sipping at the coffee that the waitress had just sat down in front of her. “Ask him about it?”

You almost choked. “Me? Asking someone? About themselves?”

“(Y/N), it’s about time you get over the isolation. You partially do it to yourself.”

She was right, you never corrected the rumors. You just let those people roll your over and stab you in the heart. You build up an insane amount of walls, impossible to knock down. Only few had a key. 

“Hey, I gotta go. Think about it though, yeah? He could be a good thing for you.” 

She got up and left, leaving you alone with your thoughts. The sound of the front bell rang as the door clamored shut behind her. You hadn’t noticed the boy walk in after she left.

You turned to scurry out of the booth when your heart leaped in your chest. He turned away from the counter, catching your eyes once again. You didn’t turn around fast enough though, he began his trek over to you.

“Hey,” he said, a smile glued to his face.

Your heart was pounding. “Hi.”

His hair was messy and he looked amazing. He was wearing a loose tee with a pair of jeans. You smiled slightly at the science joke printed on his shirt.

“Nice one,” you chirped, your voice almost failing you as he sat in the seat across from you.

“Thanks. Mind if I sit here?”

You shook your head, indicating that it was okay that he sat there. This was so odd. He seemed so quiet in class. The nerdy type, never the one to have confidence enough to come up to a complete stranger. Especially a stranger with rumors flying around their head. The Devil.

“How come you sit in the back of the class all the time?” he questioned.

You shrugged. “I like to know who’s around me. Can’t see them when they’re behind me.”

He smiled at this. “Smart, always keep your enemies at your front.”

You stared at him. “I didn’t say anything about them being my enemies.”

He shrugged. “You seem to never want to speak to everyone, so I just assumed you weren’t a fan of people.”

“Uh huh, so that’s why you decided to come sit with me?” The Devil.

“Everyone could use a friend.”

You cackled, a short, mocking laugh. “I have friends. You don’t seem like such a people person either. Why’d you run so fast out of the classroom today? Did I really scare you that bad.”

This time You received a full laugh from him. “No no, I really hate school. I had things to do as well.”  

“Like what?”

He looked panicked at the question, but immediately came up with something to say. “I have an internship with Mr. Stark.”

You were taken aback by this ridiculous remark. “Mr. Stark? As in Iron Man? Richest man in the world?”

He swallowed. “Ah, maybe not the richest, but yes.”

You thought about this for a second, contemplating whether or not the smartest kid at your school was telling a lie. He could very well have an internship with a billionaire genius, he was a genius himself, but it seemed so bizarre. 

You opened your mouth to say something, but he interrupted you. “I’m sorry I have to go.”

He didn’t give you the chance to respond before he raced out of the coffee shop. He was nearly sprinting. Such an odd person…

“He has an internship with Mr. Stark and he ran out of the shop like it was on fire. Just like in school today. What kind of internship makes it so you randomly rush out of places?”

You were laying on your bed, facetiming your best friend. 

“I don’t know honey. Sounds a little off to me…..Oh my god!” 

“What?” You asked her, staring at her through the screen as she paused to go look at something.

“Look at what I just sent you. We have a superhero on our street!”

You pressed the notification at the top of my iphone and stared at the image of a guy in red a blue spandex. Spider-man. 

“Spider-man? What the…?”

Your friend nearly screamed. “He’s gotta be cute, don’t you think?”

You shrugged to yourself, not really caring. Why would we need a super hero? 

“Can we get back to what I was saying?” You asked, still stuck on Peter. He was so cute. You couldn’t get him out of your head. 

She sighed heavily, reappearing on the screen. “Yeah, okay, but I’m so doing more research on this guy when we’re done.”

You laughed. “Alright you do that, but anyway….”

“WAIT! Did you get his number?” She asked you. 

I shook my head, but then a twitter DM notification appeared. 

‘Peter Parker followed you!’

You sucked in a breath as he almost immediately DMed you.

“No, but guess who just messaged me on twitter.”

She laughed on the other end of your screen. “Damn, get some.”

You shook my head, the smile never leaving my face. 

“I’ll let you speak to your lover boy. I gotta go stalk this secret hero.”

You didn’t pay any attention to her as she ended the facetime call. 

‘Can we hang out again sometime?’

You didn’t hesitate with your response. 

‘You seriously wanna hang out with me again? I was for sure that the sudden outburst had been out of fear.’

You were already joking with this boy, your walls slowly falling as you felt your heart swell when the read check mark appeared underneath the message you had just sent. 

‘Stark internship. Movies at my house?’

Your heart stopped. You haven’t been to a boy’s house since the night that ruined your life. Your phone vibrated again before you could think of a response.

‘Or we could go to yours? Or go out to the movies? I know some people like going out before they get to know someone….’

You smiled at that.

‘Movie night sounds great. We could do it at your place if you want…’

You weren’t sure if going to his place was the best idea, but you missed movie nights. Your friends never had them anymore because you hadn’t wanted to leave the house. Besides, Peter seemed like a nice boy. 

“His place this soon?” Your best friend asked.

You nodded. “I figured it would be fun.”

“Yeah….it’s just. What happened the last time. I mean, Peter is Peter, but what happens if….”

You shook your head. You didn’t want to think about it. Peter was Peter after all and although you didn’t know him super well, you knew he was different. It was going to be okay.

“You’re going to suffocate….he’s gonna suffocate you, (Y/N).”

Your eyes narrowed. “What does that mean.”

She shook her head at you. “You always fall way too hard too fast.”

You sighed, staring at her directly. “I know, but I can’t quit him. I’m already addicted, he won’t get out of my head. I need to know him.”

[themousai]

Q+A: LAULIA

Your new single ‘13/7’ just got released ahead of ‘Outcast Kids’ which luckily, we only have to wait until this Friday to hear when it’s officially available as a double A side vinyl through Rose Coloured Records. How are you feeling about having these songs out in the world? We couldn’t be more excited really. 13/7 was the first track that for us snowballed very quickly, Ollie sent me over a demo and I was instantly inspired, I finished writing my part that evening and ever since then we’ve been raring to get it out. If it were that simple, we would have released it that day if we could. We just wanted people to hear it. So now, having been sat on these tracks for a while whilst we organised promo, videos etc, it’s been like dangling sweets in front of a kid and telling them not to eat it. It’s been hard to keep things all to ourselves, so finally releasing the single is gonna definitely be a buzz for sure.

What made you put ‘13/7’ out first? 13/7 isn’t actually officially out yet, we just released it on Soundcloud for people to get a sneak preview of whats to come. This is purely because for us, we felt the music speaks for itself, and by giving people a preview of it, we hoped that that’d be all they’d need to feel the same excitement we do. It’s a powerful song, and I just think it says it all really. I don’t think we wanted any gimmicks or PR stunts, it was more just about sharing a track that we were insanely proud of and hoping that listeners would connect to it, and want to be a part of the release.

Do the two tracks have a similar idea or story behind them? Both tracks are about toxic relationships, but coming from very different angles. 13/7 is about monotony and habit within our relationships. We often feel it’s our responsibility to take care of the people we care about, but sometimes their self-destructive, co-dependent habits can really take a toll on our lives. 13/7 is about coming to terms with the fact that it is not our job to try and fix somebody who isn’t interested in fixing themselves, and that sometimes we must accept that taking care of ourselves is more important. This may mean stepping back or walking away from a relationship that we care about, but at times this is the best decision we could make for ourselves. / Outcast Kids relates to this, it’s a narrative about a very self-destructive & codependent relationship. The bond these 2 people share is extremely honest, and pure. The pair are inseparable, bound by their flaws. They both have extremely self destructive tendencies, but find comfort in knowing that the other is doing the same. It almost gives them reassurance and helps them justify the negative choices they are making. Essentially, the relationship is doomed with this dynamic as they are constantly feeding off each other, but being the destructive people they are - that’s what they love about it. 

What do you hope people feel when listening to these new songs? For me, music is about connection. These tracks are an expression of how we feel, musically and lyrically, and so however people choose to see themselves in these songs is up to them. If they connect with the stories and the lyrics, or just vibe with the music and wanna jam out with us, that’s all we want. For people to connect and feel whatever they choose to. Music is so subjective, and people enjoy listening to music in different ways. We don’t want anyone to feel 1 particular thing, but to feel a part of something and see themselves in what we’re creating. Our listeners are as much of a part of our music as we are. Having signed to Rose Coloured Records for the release of the Double A Side Vinyl, can you tell us a little about how this experience has gone compared to when you independently released your ‘Burning Out’ 7″ earlier this year? Andy from Rose Coloured Records has always been a good friend, and supporter of the band. We love what he’s doing for new bands/artists and always wanted to work together with him on a release. Joining forces to make 13/7 / Outcast Kids a reality felt like the right step forwards for us, we love working with new people and this whole experience has been something totally different from what we’re used to. It’s nice to have some guidance, and whilst we’ve still maintained control of our creative output, having some support with the PR, planning and distribution side of things has made a huge difference. We’re all extremely grateful to Andy for his hard work and support, as a genuine music fan, his intentions are nothing but what you’d want from a label. We’re lucky to have him on our side.

Do you write more often from a third person perspective or from personal experience? Why do you think you lean more towards one than the other? I don’t usually write with an intention, my writing is almost always an expression of my emotions. I often feel a certain way, or have experienced something that’s left a sour taste, and writing is my way of processing and dealing with it. There’s nothing more therapeutic than shouting about how you feel from the top of your lungs, or turning pain into something beautiful. There are times though, when my mind goes into overdrive, and I get inspiration purely from my imagination. Stories, ideas or things I have witnessed turn into narratives and I love running with those ideas, but I would never confine myself to writing a particular way or about a certain topic, it’s an expression and I think containing that achieves the exact opposite of what it’s meant to.

What are your musical influences like? Do you each bring very different ideas to the table when writing or are you quite similar in this aspect? We all take inspiration from different music, having been shaped by different bands/artists as we’ve developed our personal love for music, this is why our songwriting process is so interesting - we draw inspiration from different genres and styles and sorta merge it to create our own. Of course we have mutual loves, and our inspirations cross over a lot (I mean, that’s why we’re in a band together), but we’re all very individual in what drives us, and that’s where I think our sound comes from. 

You were included in Blood Records ‘Girls Against’ compilation last year in the great company of Courtney Barnett, Dream Wife, PINS and many more - how did you feel when you found out about that? Do you think it helped put your music out to a wider range of listeners? It was crazy, especially since the opportunity came to us so early on, we’d barely been a band for longer than a few months so it was very surreal. Being a part of a record alongside bands/artists that we all admired was like a massive wake up call, it sorta gave us an insight into what we could achieve with this band and the potential that it had. Knowing that our music could exist alongside names like that, I think was the catalyst for us, we just wanted to go full speed ahead from that point on. It also sorta laid some groundwork for us, we were introduced to fans of the exact kind of music we were looking to produce, whilst supporting a cause that we so heavily believed in, so yeah it was a total blessing - we couldn’t be more grateful. 

Ahead of your release show in London, what should we be expecting from your live set? Performing live is easily my favourite part about being in this band. The stage is our home, and we feel comfiest up there. It gives us the chance to fully immerse ourselves in what we’re creating, and there’s no other feeling like it. Our set is filled with highs and lows, expect ethereal moments of emptiness, followed by immense soundscapes, grungy riffs and lots of throwing ourselves about & hair flicking haha. 

Lastly, what does LAULIA have in the works for the future? The coming months are gonna be pretty crazy for us I think. Once we’ve come out the other end of celebrating this release, we wanna get straight onto working towards another record. The next step for us is putting out an EP, we’d love something that really introduces us to the world and shows everyone what we’re really about as a band. We’re still very new and we’re still kind of shaking the hands of everyone at the moment. The next coming months I think we really want to start breaking the ice within the industry, and with our supporters as well. We want people to know who we are and what were about, and feel a part of that. So plenty of shows, tours, and connecting with people is what we want to work towards. That and getting an EP out are our main focuses. Oh, and Glastonbury of course.

Stream 13/7 / Outcast Kids on Spotify and Apple Music now and be sure to purchase the Double A Side 7″ Vinyl here!

Quick Fire:

The one song I wish I wrote is... Lauren: Hmmm, either ‘Formidable Cool’  by Wolf Alice or ‘No Care’ by Daughter. Ollie: ‘She Changes The Weather’ by Swim Deep. Harry: ‘Jet’ by Wings. Kurt: ‘Electric Feel’ by MGMT.

Three things I can’t live without are... Lauren: Yoga, laughter, and obviously hummus with pitta. Ollie: Garlic, Electroharmonix Memory Man & Rome total war. Kurt: Lucky charms, Dr Pepper, Drums. Harry: Ginger tea, Labradors, Sports Socks.

Phones out, or phones away if you're watching a band live... Lauren: Phones away always, gotta live in the moment. Harry & Kurt: Ditto. Ollie: Depends if they’re good or not.

Three adjectives that describe my life are... Lauren: Hectic, Fulfilling, Vibrant. Ollie: Umami, Comfortable & Accelerating. Harry: Cosy, Wholesome, Exciting.  Kurt: Organised, Busy & Energetic.

If I held a world record it would be for... Lauren: Fastest person to finish a bottle of wine. Ollie: Most words incorrectly spelled in a single message. Harry: Most unimpressed facial expressions made in one day. Kurt: Longest time to answer a quick fire question.. Still waiting.

My first memory of loving music is... Lauren: Dancing to MTV as a 2/3 year old and stealing every dance floor I could no matter where my parents took me. Ollie: Playing ‘Parklife’ on repeat whilst bouncing on my sisters bed at the age of 5. Harry: Listening to style council records in my uncle’s kitchen. Kurt: Trying to play along to the radio on my dads suitcase with sticks that I found.

The song of mine that I am the proudest of is… Lauren: Bloody Knees or 13/7, both for very different reasons. Ollie: Wide Eyes. Harry: Gloe. Kurt: The Collectors.

My favourite venue I've ever played is… Lauren: The Facebar in Reading. Ollie: BLove because I loved playing a huge stage, and my mum came along. Kurt: The Boileroom. Harry: The New Cross Inn.

The ideal environment for me to create music in is… Lauren: Whilst I would love it to be on a scenic beach or waterfall somewhere, it tends to be alone in my bedroom. Kurt: My home studio. Harry: My shed. Ollie: With my pedal board and people I trust.

If I could tour with any two bands, they would be… Lauren: Idles (easily my favourite band to see live), and Cherry Glazerr. Ollie: Pulled Apart by Horses and S club 7. Harry: Gurr and Queens of The Stone Age. Kurt: Marmozets and Foals.  

Follow LAULIA on Social Media!

FACEBOOK | SPOTIFY | TWITTER | INSTAGRAM

Interview by Scarlett Dellow, photo by Fraser H-N

[singlespiritinthecity]

The Dry Janners

Right guys, I’ve got some good news. I’m in a much, much better place than I was pre-Christmas. Happy New Year 2019!

I’m also a Dry Jan dating convert. There are SO many benefits to it... no foggy head the next morning, no drunken kissing (occasionally sex) regrets, I don’t eat loads of crap post-date (or order an Uber Eats McDonalds so it’s there by the time I get home) and it’s SO much cheaper (did you know soda limes are actually only about 20p?!) Not to mention the fact that I actually get a vague idea of whether or not I genuinely fancy the person with a sober perspective.

I’ve been on Dry Jan dates with four separate boys and I’m about to tell you about them now. 

The first one was with someone who’s from the same neck of the woods as me. He also sounded quite funny over messaging, but... he was a teacher. Normally this is one of my dealbreakers (there’s a few reasons for this, the main one being that I just don’t think I could handle the amount of holiday they get. Jealousy would turn to resentment, I’m sure of it) but we got on well enough so I tried to push that to the back of my head.

The date itself was good as far as dates go - we had a hot chocolate at the Southbank market (trying to soak up the remaining Christmas cheer) but he had a lot of opinions. We ended up talking about gender fluidity, Brexit, “kids of today”.. it all got a bit intense. He feels very strongly about things, and I didn’t agree or disagree with anything he said, but I just didn’t have that same passionate views he did.

We ended the night with a kiss, made reference to doing something for a second date but I never heard from him again. I was a bit bothered by the lack of effort, but not about never seeing him again.

My second sober date I’m going to call ‘Comeback Kid’, the name my best friend gave him. 

We started speaking between Christmas and New Year, and had a good back and forth conversation for a day or so. After which, one of us said goodnight and then we didn't speak for a week. I obviously assumed this meant our date we had arranged was no longer going ahead, until...

And that is why he’s the Comeback Kid. He managed to turn it round from that, put no pressure on me to rearrange, carried on chatting to me and left it up to me to rearrange for when I wanted/felt comfortable to.

So we went on a date, I drank a lot of orange juice and I would have said it was an all round great date (blocking out him shushing everyone around us when someone who’s 30th it was wanted to make a speech and also a small dose of him imitating me) and he’s a very good kisser.

We’ve actually been on a second date since - a very wholesome walk around Wimbledon Common. 30,000 steps and 1,150 calories burnt later, it ended the same way as the first one with a kiss. The only thing that was bothering me was that over WhatsApp and sometimes in person, I felt like he was on the defence a bit. So when I tried to say something nice, it wasn’t often acknowledged or replied to with a joke of some sort. I tried to address this over WhatsApp...

He read the last message and just didn’t reply. Bearing in mind it was his birthday the next day, I just wrote again and said the typical girl thing “forget it” followed by a happy birthday. The waiting was excruciating and seeing he was online the whole time and completely ignoring me, I couldn't take it any longer.

The next day he messaged me but didn’t make any reference whatsoever to what I had last sent or what I was trying to have a conversation about...

I didn’t reply on his birthday (I was still disappointed, angry, upset about him ignoring me when I was trying to speak to him the previous night) and was planning on calling him to chat about it but knew he was in Paris for work so it was going to be a busy couple of days for him. He wrote to me again yesterday asking how my week was going, so I thought I’d try and readdress the situation again

He never ended up calling me, said his day was too hectic, but suggested a walk and talk on Saturday (tomorrow) which I’ve agreed to, even though we had originally said we’d do something Friday night (tonight) but he’s probably got the hint I’m not too impressed. I appreciate the effort (although some may say too little too late) so let’s see if what he has to say makes him Comeback Kid x2.

My third date this month won’t take me long to tell you about. I had regrettably got my hopes up a bit about this one. He was quite beardy (there was me thinking that was a guaranteed sign he was going to be cool) and had dark hair, blue/green eyes, my type all over. But in person, he was a bit awkward, a bit geeky (but not in an endearing way) and I got the impression I sort of intimidated him at times. This was an absolute milestone of a date because... for the FIRST TIME EVER... I told him on the date that I wasn’t feeling it. The thought of heading home and having to send the cliched text that makes me die a bit inside every time was enough to make me go for it, there and then. So I told him I was feeling more of a friend vibe, which he said he was disappointed about but took well. However, he still pulled me into him to say goodbye and gave me a lingering kiss on the cheek... lucky escape, there.

My fourth and final Dry Jan date was just a few days ago. He was attractive, definitely my type, but I sensed he was quite nervous and maybe wasn’t quite himself because of that. He seemed so confident over WhatsApp I was expecting someone who was going to fully take the reins on the date, but I didn’t quite get that, I felt I probably steered most of the conversation. After about an hour and two pints (for him), he started to settle into the date a bit more and told me lots of personal things which I really appreciated him sharing with me. I would consider myself a pretty open and straight forward person (could you guess from the blog?!) so warm more towards those who can be open with me, so felt the date definitely improved with time.

He was very sweet and complimentary (basically said it was game over for him after we matched), and we kissed (even though it was on the tube platform, the worst possible location for a first kiss). He said he was going to send me through suggestions for our next date which I could pick from, an idea I LOVE (oh the effort!).

I’m not sure I’ve found my future husband just yet, but dating sober has been an eye-opening experience that’s for sure. And one I would actively encourage if you’re ever feeling a bit insecure and down on yourself. It doesn’t feel like a waste of money, time or effort because, let’s face it, there’s only so many pints of soda lime one can drink in a sitting! 

[frostedkookie]

limerence | pt. 1

(n.) the state of being infatuated with another person

pt.1 | pt.2

Words: 4,124

Genre: G-Dragon x OC, Friends With Benefits AU, smut, some fluff/romance

Summary: “One more drink won’t kill you... I promise I’ll take care of you.”

A/N: I started this last year, and decided to finish since GD has been hitting me right in the feels lately

“Would you hold still, please Chen, for the love of all that is good in the world? I am trying to finish this last bit of eyeliner,” Noelle hissed, waving her hands around in frustration as Chen narrowed his eyes.

“It’s not like it’s going to look good anyway,” he replied tartly.

“I swear, boy. One of these days I am going to take this eyeliner pencil and jab it so far into your eye that-“

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s really going to happen.” Chen cut Noelle off. After a moment of the two staring harshly at each other, Chen finally sat back in his seat, arms crossed, and held still so Noelle could finish his eyeliner.

“Those two can be so annoying sometimes,” Chanyeol laughed from the seat below me, where I had my hands tousled in his silver-colored hair. Chen and Chanyeol were the last two members of EXO Noelle and I had to make over before we accompanied the band to the Mnet Asian Music Awards that very night. However, Chen was not making the completion of Noelle’s task any easier.

Noelle and I had moved to Seoul six months prior, and shortly after, we’d gotten jobs with one of the largest music companies in South Korea, SM Entertainment. We’d been lucky enough to have been paired together as a make-up and hair team for the same band: EXO.

“I still have to get ready myself, Chen. So please, try to cooperate,” Noelle pleaded, mixing together a palette of eyeshadows.

“Who’s the star, though? Me or you?” Chen smirked, making Noelle’s knuckles turn white against the make-up brush in her hand.

“I give up,” Noelle groaned, causing Chanyeol to snicker in his seat. I gave his hair a few more tugs, and then finished it off with a little mousse.     

“Thanks, MaKenna. See you at the show,” Chanyeol said, giving me a quick one-armed hug and walking out of EXO’s main hair and make-up room.

I gave Noelle one last wave, although she barely glanced up from her near death match with Chen. I wondered towards the dorm room Noelle and I shared, where I would spend the last hour of my time getting myself ready for the awards show. I quickly slipped out of the gym shorts and t-shirt I’d been wearing while I’d styled each member of EXO’s hair, and in to a one-shoulder deep green dress covered in sequins. The dress ended towards the middle of my thighs, and was the color of a lush forest after the rain.

I briefly saw Noelle enter the room in a flurry of red hair and purple dress while I was styling my hair, and when my whole look was finally complete, she met me in the corridor that lead towards the parked cars EXO would take to the awards show.

“So, I’ll take M tonight, and you get K? Although, I don’t know if I’ll be able to ride in the same car as Chen, even if the venue is just a short drive away,” Noelle grumbled, more to herself than me. I smirked, knowing that the reason Noelle would be up with a ride with Chen came in the form of EXO-M’s leader, Kris.

“Well, I guess I’m alright with riding with K tonight,” I faked a heavy sigh, speaking in English as I climbed in the car to await the arrival of the band members. Noelle and I, painstakingly, had learned Korean in just a few short months before moving to Seoul, and although our language skills were fairly adequate, we still frequently spoke to each other in English.

“Aren’t you just a doll?” Noelle smirked, closing the door of the car. I watched her strut away in her long purple dress and short pumps until she’d ducked into EXO-M’s car and disappeared behind the closed door.

I sighed, straightened out my dress, and laid my head back against the car seat, anticipating our arrival at the awards show.

“Ladies and gentlemen, give it up one last time for our final act of the night, EXO!” The crowd went absolutely wild as the first few beats to their song started, and the dim lights suddenly outlined the faint figures of the twelve EXO members.

“They’re such talented guys.” I glanced over towards my left, where the leader of BigBang, G-Dragon, was sitting beside me. For the most part, he’d kept to himself that night.

“Yeah, they’re really something,” I smiled, nodding at him. He smiled back, his bright orange bangs falling down in his eyes.

“Do you work for SM?” he asked after a few minutes, interrupting my concentration on Kai’s hair, which I was praying would stay perfectly styled throughout his whole choreography.

“Oh, yes. I’m EXO’s hair stylist,” I replied, not taking my eyes away from the lanky dancer as he swung his way around the stage. His hair didn’t move an inch, much to my amazement. After a few minutes, G-Dragon spoke to me again.

“Your Korean is very good.”

“I’ve only been speaking the language for a year, maybe a little longer,” I said. “So, I don’t think it’s very good at all.”

“It’s good, I promise,” he said, flashing me a genuine smile that made me stop and stare a little longer than appropriate. The only times I’d seen BigBang’s leader, he’d seemed extremely standoffish. However, sitting beside him, I was able to see a small part of the humorous guy that everyone talked about. G-Dragon was all the rave between Korean music businesses, but talking to him, even for just a few moments, made me see a piece of the celebrity that no fans got to see.

It was one of my favorite parts about working with celebrities. Not being able to brag about the fact that I hung out with some of the most famous people in Asia, or even that I got to be around people with a ton of money. My favorite part was that I was able to see the true parts of these celebrities, even if I was only able to see that part for a few moments at an awards show. I was still able to converse with a person who would otherwise have been untouchable to me before I’d gotten my job.

EXO’s performance ended, and Kai’s hair stayed perfect throughout the whole thing. I stood up, straightening out my dress as I prepared myself to leave. 

“MaKenna, I’m going to go meet the M boys around back, so we can try and leave first, alright? I’ll see you back at the complex.” Noelle grabbed my arm from the side. I waved to her, and watched her once again disappear into the crowd. I turned back to where BigBang was sitting, waving at the members and turning to leave.

“Wait,” a hand snaked around my wrist, causing me to stop. Exiting bodies weaved and pressed in around me, and for a moment, with a hand clamped around my wrist and the sound of a thousand conversations roaring in my ears, I felt trapped in the giant arena. I whirled around, coming face to face with G-Dragon.

I snatched my hand away from his grasp. Apparently, a little too forcefully, since he glanced down at his now empty hand with the smallest fraction of shock on his face. He wasn’t much bigger than me, and the heels I wore put me just a few inches above him. His deep, tanned skin and chocolate eyes contrasted intensely with his bright orange hair and white teeth, which were showing immensely now that he was smiling at me.

“Come have a drink with me,” he said, full of confidence. I raised my eyebrow, questioning this man whom I’d just met.

“I have somewhere to be. My boys are waiting for me,” I said briskly, turning to go. I actually needed to find Chanyeol and Kai, who were supposed to wait for me before we headed back to the SM complex.

“I think the EXO boys will be able to handle themselves just fine without you for an hour or two. Come on, my group just won one of the biggest music awards given. I need a beautiful girl to celebrate with.” He was still smirking, and I was finding it very hard to resist the way his bangs flopped down perfectly into his eyes, making him look younger then what he actually was.

“No,” I replied.

“Please,” he kept begging. I crossed my arms, giving him a look that dared him to keep begging me to go along. “My band has already left me to celebrate on their own. I’m all alone, unless you come out with me. I know a great private bar we can go to.”

“You’re charming, you know that? I’m tempted to actually accept your invitation,” I said, glancing at my phone. I panicked a little when I saw that I had four missed calls and three text messages from Kai alone, and Chanyeol’s count was double that.

“I think you should accept my invitation. What do you have to lose?” G-Dragon asked, raising his eyebrow and running his tongue along his teeth.

I thought about it for a few seconds, leaving his unanswered question hanging between us. The arena was slowly clearing out, leaving just the two of us near our section.

“One drink, that’s it,” I said, finally.

“You’re not going to regret it,” he said, grabbing my hand. I was nervous about going out alone with BigBang’s leader, but I’d also heard nothing but great things about the group. Not to mention I was a bit of a fan of them, and I was even a little exhilarated to be going out the infamous leader.

“So, have I got to call you G-Dragon throughout my drink?” I asked as we made our way towards the exit. I sent a quick text to Chanyeol, telling them not to wait and that I would be back later than expected.

“Of course. That is my name, after all,” he laughed at my confused look and shook his head. “I’m just kidding. My name is Kwon Jiyong.”

“I’m MaKenna,” I replied.

“It’s very nice to meet you.” Jiyong laughed, bowing playfully towards me as we made it outside of the arena and into a parked cab. He gave the driver the address, and leaned back into his seat. Our drive was silent, consisting of me staring out the window of the cab as Seoul passed by. I was a little in love with the city, and any chance to get out of SM’s complex was a thrilling experience for me.

“We’re here,” Jiyong said, jumping out of the cab after handing the driver the won we owed. He held the door open for me as I slid towards his side and stepped out of the cab onto the curb. We walked quickly inside the glassed in bar, keeping our heads down. This form of disguise wasn’t even technically necessary, but it had become instinct for me any time I went out with EXO, and obviously it’d become that way for Jiyong as well.

“What’s your poison?” The bartender asked as we got settled into the stools. The whole place was washed in blue light and glass, giving it an ice-like appearance. The ambiance was appealing, and even though there were other people in the place, it was clear that the high end bar was only for the highest paying consumers.

“Tequila and tonic, please,” I said. The bartender took Jiyong’s order before disappearing to fix our drinks.

“So, tell me about the musical genius that I’ve heard so much about,” I said, placing my chin in my hand and glancing over at him. He smirked kindheartedly before shaking his head.

“I’m not a musical genius, no matter what the magazines say. I’m merely doing what I love, and sometimes I’m halfway decent at it.” The bartender placed our drinks before us, and I took a large swig before replying.

“Seriously? That’s what you’re going for? No offense, but you’re a genius. The boys talk about you all the time. They love you.”

“Oh, really? I’m quite the fan of EXO myself,” he laughed.

“I’m serious. I basically know all of your songs and everything about you just because of them.”

“You know everything about me?” He asked with a smirk, raising his eyebrows suggestively. I took another large swig of alcohol, letting the burn in my throat overshadow Jiyong’s irresistible smirk.

“Something like that,” I said, not managing to look back at him. I could hear him chuckling and taking a sip of his own drink.

“Another, miss?” The bartender asked, motioning towards the glass I had clutched in both my hands. I glanced down, realizing the cup was absent of all the amber colored liquid I’d ordered. I sighed, shaking my head.

“I really should be going.” Jiyong placed his hand on my arm, preventing me, gently, from getting up.

“You’re really going to leave me here to drink alone?” he asked, his chocolate eyes searching my face. I sighed again, placing my hand over his.

“I’m not the best drinker, and you don’t want to have to deal with a drunkard,” I said, realizing I didn’t actually want to leave Jiyong at all, much less so I could make the journey back home alone. It was a sudden feeling, most likely brought on by the alcohol I’d consumed.

“I’ll take care of you,” he smirked, and I found my heart fluttering in my chest, much to my disgust. Jiyong motioned for the bartender to bring me another. “Also, one more drink won’t kill you.”

I sighed and settled back in to my seat, the promise of more alcohol dulling my need to go home. "I guess it won’t hurt me that much.”

Three more drinks later, I was very tipsy, and in need of a bathroom. Jiyong led me towards the ladies room, making sure I didn’t topple over in my heels. The tequila made my head feel fuzzy, like everything was coated in a layer of felt. I was hyperaware of Jiyong’s arm wrapped around my waist, and my body pressed closely into his.

“I had five tequilas,” I giggled, covering my mouth with my hand. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing’s wrong with you,” Jiyong said, opening the ladies room door for me. I ventured in alone, relieving myself and washing my hands in what seemed to take hour.

“I think you’re really cute,” I slurred, taking Jiyong’s hand in mine. He chuckled, leading me towards the exit. “Like, I think you’re really cute.”

“Can you not speak Korean when you’re drunk?” Jiyong asked, his own English heavily accented. Before that moment, I hadn’t even realized I’d switched my languages.

“English is so much easier when everything is so fuzzy,” I groaned, grabbing my head as Jiyong hailed a cab. “I could speak Spanish for you, but that ability went away two drinks ago.”

When the cab finally pulled up to the curb, Jiyong helped me in and gave the driver a new address. "Where are you taking me now?”

“Back to my place,” he replied.

I narrowed my eyes, reaching instinctively towards the door handle. “I knew this was your plan. I need to get out of here right now!”

“Hey, I’m not going to try anything, I promise. I’ll take the couch, and let you lock yourself in my bedroom for the rest of the night. I just wouldn’t feel right taking you back to SM in your state. Hell, I don’t feel comfortable sending you there sober, but much less drunk.” Jiyong said, pulling my wrist gently away from the door.

“Ughhh, talk in English. You’re hurting my head,” I complained, grabbing my ears, where his Korean words were bashing inside.

“My English isn’t very good,” he said back, but he spoke my language anyway. We made it to his apartment without any problems, and he immediately showed me into his bedroom, which was huge, spacious, and full of vibrant colors. Exactly what you’d expect from someone as vibrant as Jiyong.

“Here’s advil, water, and some hot tea for you. Hopefully you’ll sober up a little soon, and won’t have such a terrible hangover in the morning.” Jiyong brought a tray in to the room and set it on the side table. He pulled a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt out of his dresser, laying it on the bed beside where I was sat. “Those are for you to sleep in, you just have to lock the door once I leave.”

“Thank you,” I said, pulling the clothes from their folded position and heading towards the bathroom to change. I heard him leave the room, and once I’d pulled on his clothes, I made my way towards the side table to swallow the advil and hot tea he’d provided. I could already feel the hot liquid settling in my stomach, and just a little bit of the dizziness had subsided. I was a little bit more aware of how awkward and astonishing my situation was by the minute.

I settled in to Jiyong’s large bed, suddenly engulfed by the scent of him, which hadn’t hit me fully until that moment, dressed in his clothing and cocooned in his sheets. It was a spicy scent, and sent my head into more dizziness.

As I listened more closely, I could hear him rummaging around in his living room. I tossed and flopped onto my side, but it was clear I was nowhere near sleepy. My mind was racing, trying to wrap itself around the fact that I was actually here, laying in the G-Dragon’s bed. But more prominently, my mind keep replaying the feeling of his hand wrapping itself around my waist; the way his smirk tugged up one corner of his mouth and made his eyes twinkle.

Before I even realized what I was doing, I’d made my way to his bedroom door and entered the living room, where Jiyong was settled on the couch, wearing nothing but a pair of sweat pants. My breath hitched just a fraction in my throat, taking in the sight of his tanned skin detailed in the slightest bit of muscles and tattoos.

“Are you okay?” His brow creased in concern. I quickly made my way over to where he sat, leaning over him.

“I couldn’t sleep,” I mumbled, glancing down at him.

“Do you need me to… uh… get anything for you?” he asked, staring up in to my eyes. He was still speaking English for me, and his mumbling made his accent even thicker.

I stared at his face, my gaze travelling away from his deep chocolate eyes to his mouth. I spoke in Korean, my voice heavy from the atmosphere in the room. “Kiss me.”

Jiyong hesitated, his own gaze lingering on my lips. I could still feel traces of tequila pulsing through my veins, making me a lot braver than I would usually have been. I slowly poked the tip of my tongue through my mouth, running it along my bottom lip slowly.

Jiyong groaned, suddenly grabbing my face in his hands and crushing his lips on mine. His overwhelming scent surrounded me, even stronger than when I was in his bed. His lips molded in to mine, making my heart thump noisily in my chest.

I was aware of nothing but Jiyong’s lips pressed deliciously against mine, his hand threading its way in my hair. He stood up suddenly, never breaking our kiss. At this height, he was taller than I, and his mouth pressed aggressively down on mine as his other hand gripped my cheek.

I fisted a handful of his orange hair, tugging on the roots gently. Jiyong groaned lowly into my mouth, pushing his tongue past my lips to entwine with mine. I ran my other hand down the length of his chest, brushing past the ink that was permanently embedded there; feeling the faint outlines of his abdominal muscles etched into his chest.

“We should stop,” he said huskily, his mouth still pressed into mine. I shook my head, pulling his head closer to mine.

“Please don’t,” I begged, tugging on his bottom lip with my teeth. He moaned, clearly battling ideas inside his head. The battle only lasted a second, before he lifted me up by the waist. I wrapped my legs around him, clinging to him closely as he continued to kiss me.

I wasn’t aware that he’d brought me into his bedroom until I felt the silkiness of his sheets beneath me. Jiyong hovered over me, moving his mouth from my lips down to my jawline. He continued to my neck, nipping at the tendon that stuck out as I turned my head.

Suddenly, I was extremely, uncomfortably hot. I panted, pushing Jiyong away just a tiny bit; enough to rip away the t-shirt he’d only just given me to put on. He sucked in a sharp breath, staring down at my exposed chest. Just as quickly, I unhooked my bra and threw it to the side.

Jiyong roughly grabbed me, running his hands up and down my sides before finally finding a permeant stopping point. Suddenly, without thinking, I twisted my legs around until I’d managed to quickly flip him over on to his back. I straddled his waist, proud of the smirk I’d caused to grace his lips.

I kissed down his chest, paying special attention to the large words written down his right side, and the two ‘X’s etched above his navel. He groaned loudly as my mouth travelled the length of his body, running his hands once again through my hair. I smiled smugly against his skin, outlining the waistband of his sweats with the tip of my finger.

Eventually, Jiyong managed to flip me back over under him, while simultaneously managing to remove both of our remaining clothing pieces. I was so hot and cold all over, my body against his felt as though I was drowning in a lake of fire and ice. Everywhere his fingers were placed, my skin responded by bursting in a ripple of chills and excitement.

Jiyong took his time, nipping and sucking at my flesh, driving me absolutely wild. Nothing about us was hurried, and yet everything seemed to pass by in the blink of an eye. I stared into his beautiful, striking eyes as he brought me closer and closer to him, feeling as though there would never be any other people in the world besides us.

Jiyong entered me swiftly, pushing inside and letting me adjust for only a brief moment. I relished in the way he felt, the pressure he provided so deliciously, as he stayed still inside of me. I heard small curses, some English and some Korean, spill from his plump lips as he began to drag himself out, to the tip, and then crash back inside of me. I was too focused on staring into his eyes to bother emitting anything more than a small whimper.

His body moved in sync to mine, bringing me up and then back down. He snaked his arms around me, switching our position so that I was sitting in his lap. He arms moved up and down my back, pulling me closer than possible while I cradled his cheeks in my hands, steadily placing unaimed kisses on his exposed flesh.

I was on fire, everywhere. Every nerve ending felt as though my nerves were trying to burst from my skin. I felt weightless, and yet heavy at the same time. I was soaring, flying closely to the sun, growing hotter and hotter. I barely felt Jiyong’s skin against my own as I burned and burned, finally bursting into full flames. My nerves seemed to sever their connection to every inch of my body, and suddenly, there was nothing. No sun, no bedroom, no Jiyong. I was simply floating in a sea of bliss and happiness, icy blood rushing to every crevice in my body in an attempt to cool me down. His release was fiery against my cool skin, he’s moans and curses into my neck like music.

Jiyong swiped a few beads of sweat from my upper lip, cradling me closely into his chest as he fitted the sheets around us. The clock read only an hour ahead, but I felt as if Jiyong and I had escaped Earth for years, only to find ourselves back on the planet in a bed of silk. My body felt so heavy, and I drew myself closer towards Jiyong’s chest as I let the heaviness, finally, take me under.

[5hfanfiction]

Dope (Lauren/You) — Chapter 4: Inevitable

A/N: Very minor thing, but just remember Y/F/A means your favourite animal. Also if you’re reading this on tumblr a certain part may not make as much sense if the image doesn’t upload.

(Your POV)

My thoughts were screaming one thing solely: I needed to leave.

And that’s exactly what I did, I got in my car and kept driving. Not a single moment was spent hesitating or looking back. When I arrived home, my parents heard the door shut and a plain “I’m back” sufficed. I didn’t want them seeing me in this state, it would only make me cry ten times harder. Damp clothing and puffy eyes would be difficult to explain.

I didn’t have the energy to discuss tonight’s events.

I went through what seemed like a routine, one that would hopefully bring some sort of comfort. My brain ordered me around in steps. Go upstairs. Grab some dry clothing. Take a shower. Dry my hair. And last but not least, fall asleep.

I had the whole weekend to let my emotions boil back down, and to block out this embarrassing night. Compared to what’s happened to me before, this was nothing; in fact, it was trivial. But don’t get me wrong, that doesn’t mean I won’t hold a grudge.

It wouldn’t make much of a difference avoiding Lauren, it’s not like we talk on a regular basis. And strangely, I was grateful for that fact. I used to find myself wanting to start up a chat with her, yet now, I’d rather pretend we never talked.

Why did my school experience seem like a set of strategy plans? It was supposed to be a new beginning here. I was stupid for thinking like that. Not every person is genuine, and not everything is trouble free. I had learnt that quite a while back, but sometimes it slips my mind.

My bed was warmer than usual tonight, and it became the only good constant I had. My back moulded into the mattress while I snuggled my toy Y/F/A tightly. Quickly, my eyelids became heavy and began to flutter more frequently.  Tiredness tugged at my body as it lulled me into a steady breathing pattern. The comforting feeling of sleep had took over… I was exhausted.

* * *

*3 days later*

It was Monday, and I really felt like the weekend helped me feel better. I just needed a little while to get over it, that’s all. What worried me now was avoiding Lauren and praying she wouldn’t bring it up again. If I really have to, I won’t say a word to her. That would save the awkwardness for both of us.

I only had math class once today, which shouldn’t be too hard to endure. I slumped down in my seat near the back, flopping further into it like I usually do. Lauren wasn’t here yet, I realised. It wasn’t unusual though, she rarely arrived on time.

Five minutes later, she strolled through the doors as casually as ever. Today Lauren was sporting a light, rose pink hoodie, black ripped jeans, and dark combat boots to match. The hoodie was oversized, yet she still looked adorable in it.

Her eyes momentarily connected with my Y/E/C orbs when she made her way over to her seat. I looked away immediately, although I could have sworn I saw her smile at me in the corner of my eye. Regardless, it wasn’t returned.

My earphones were plugged in a few moments later, and the sound levels were put higher than my normal preference. It made me flinch a little, but I decided to keep them that way. I purposefully became accustomed to the high sounds; it served as a relaxation method as well as earplugs. Allowing the music occupy my thoughts, I started to disassociate from my environment.

For majority of the lesson I didn’t talk and only ever looked Lauren’s way a few times. Each time I glanced over she had an unreadable expression on her face, and her gaze was constantly locked on the desk. Maybe she had read my body language and realised I didn’t want to talk. Good. Something is finally going my way.

At last, the lesson was over and I could leave. With my bag in hand, I rose from my seat and advanced out the door. I could tell Lauren was close behind from her signature perfume, which smelled like gardenia, and I clenched my jaw. Why was I suddenly so nervous? I did nothing wrong. Her perfume became stronger, and I heard footsteps nearing me through the hallway.

“Y/N, can we talk?” she asked, trying to keep up with my pace.

I continued to look forward and sped up my tempo, not saying a word. If I walked any faster, it could be mistaken for jogging. She sighed audibly when I blatantly ignored her, and I made my way to lunch. After some time, Lauren gave up and slowed down, leaving her behind me.

I made my way to a lunch table that included three familiar faces. For two weeks I had been sitting at the same bench with a few people from English; they all seemed relatively nice and funny.

We weren’t best friends (after only a month, who would be?) but we all sat together in lesson. Since I joined this school at the start of the school year, it meant that the classes were all jumbled around. It was nice not feeling completely new.

Hallie, Evelyn and Lyla acknowledged me with various nods and smiles as I slid into a chair alongside the long haired brunette.

“Sup, loser,” Evelyn chimed, sticking her tongue out at me.

“Not much, weirdo,” I quipped back.

Lyla laughed along at our banter whilst she unscrewed her water bottle, and Hallie continued eating her food.

“How was that party on Friday?” the blonde questioned curiously.

“It was… eh.”

“Just eh? That bad, huh? Surely the cute guys would have made it more enjoyable,” the short haired girl said.

Yeah, there were cute guys, but I didn’t find myself wanting to spark a conversation with many of them. I only wanted to talk to Lauren at that party, she used to make me feel relaxed.

“I didn’t stay that long. It would have been better if you guys came, though,” I told them honestly.

“Well, we would have, trust me. But this one over here,” Lyla rolled her head slowly in Hallie’s direction, “wanted to have a horror movie marathon.”

Hallie looked up at her with a fry in her mouth and sent her a wide grin.

“Yeah, she basically forced us. But hey! You survived,” Evelyn joked. But in a way, she was right.

Hallie still hadn’t said a word which made her friend throw a scrunched up napkin her way, hitting her on the forehead.

“What was that for!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up.

“Woah, she actually speaks,” Evelyn announced over dramatically, followed by a fake gasp from Lyla.

“Leave me alone,” Hallie pouted, “I forgot to eat breakfast, and these fries are more important than you hoes.”

“Oh my bad, I forgot she turns into a mime when she hasn’t eaten,” the blonde began. “Food does crazy stuff to her, it’s been the same since middle school.”

I chuckled loudly at their interactions, and spent the rest of lunch discussing the party and what they got up to — except for the parts I wanted to leave out. Of course, they teased me about Luke, but I didn’t take it to heart. It wasn’t him who I was interested in.

I had only known them for a month, yet these three girls felt like the closest things I had to friends here. Each week that passed seemed like a month I had known them; there was no doubt we had clicked instantly.

Usually Monday lessons are a drag, but having English last made it pleasant. After lunch had ended, we made our way to lesson and took our seats next to each other. Evelyn was at my right side with the two other girls further down, and the seat to my left was empty.

Mrs. Banks greeted the students and was about to register everyone, but then another teacher knocked at the door.

“Sorry to interrupt. Can you step outside for a second?” the other teacher queried.

“Of course. Everybody, please get out your books while I’m outside. I’ll be back soon,” our teacher announced, dismissing herself promptly.

Shortly after she left, I felt my phone vibrate and whipped it out. I opened the group-chat notification to see Hallie sending sneaky mugshots, ones she had captured recently of Lyla. We all glanced over at each other and laughed whilst the blonde attempted to shield her face from Hallie.

Mrs. Banks walked back in as I tried hiding my phone under my desk, but I was still looking at the group-chat messages. Without looking up, I giggled to myself lightly.

“Everyone, we have a student who has changed to this class. Please make Lauren feel welcomed,” our teacher spoke up, directing her to the seat to my left.

My smile dropped instantaneously when I gazed up. Her intense, verdant eyes were already locked with mine, and she subtlety winked at me with a smirk on her face. You’ve got to be kidding me.

A/N: Hi again, so I think I’m finally getting the grasp of writing the amount I want. My Wattpad

Also, I changed the cover slightly but tried keeping it similar. Hopefully you like it better, idk. And I may or may not have added the picture of Lyla, Hallie, and Evelyn because I was too lazy to describe them… You’ll never know. (It’s bc I’m hecka lazy lol)

Thanks for reading if you did, love you. If you didn’t like this chapter then I’ll try make the next one better.

‘Til next time, stay well lovelies ❤️

[ecotone99]

[MF] Uber Driver Testimonial

I signed up to be an Uber driver after I heard Jimmy H––– speak about an opportunity for people unemployed, underemployed and between careers. What’s great about Jimmy’s program is that when I hit my 500 rides he gets a payout. What’s also great is that for every person I sign up, coach, and track on the Partner Dashboard, I get a payout when that person hits their 500 rides. I don’t take a portion of my protege’s money so it’s not a pyramid scheme. I encourage all new Uber drivers part of Jimmy’s system to journal their experience driving for Uber. Email your testimonial to me for a chance to win a nice prize and be featured on Jimmy’s website.

I used to be self-conscious when driving college students. When you drive Uber you are either a driver who drives nights and weekends (you might have a day job) or you are a driver who drives during weekdays (you probably do not have a day job). When I drove college students during the weekday I often imagined saying to them “don’t be like me kids” or “I have a degree but you never know where life will take you”. It occurred to me I should be able to express a good and noble reason for driving Uber to myself and students or young professionals that press me. I settled on telling the truth: I was a disabled veteran who drove to get out of the house.

One time I drove a couple to a hip-hop concert at the Great Park. While we were in the car the guy said I was the best Uber driver he ever rode with because I checked my blind spots. Since I started driving for Uber I have greatly improved my driving skills, reinforced good driving habits, and developed Standard Operating Procedures (SOPs). These are driving rules that I follow by default and only alter if there is a special circumstance like an emergency. Some basic examples of my SOPs are: 1) stopping at yellow lights unless the abrupt stop would jar my passengers, 2) making a full stop at every stop sign, 3) checking both ways twice, 4) using owl vision through intersections, 5) driving a bit slower than normal, 6) knowing the exit before getting on the highway, 7) driving with the windows up and the A/C on, 8) driving with no radio on, 9) only talking when spoken to or when asking follow up questions.

I’m wondering if I will still be able to drive for Uber after December 31st because of these new laws California passed. I don’t know about you, but I’m taxed like a contractor and not an employee!

Like an airplane pilot going through their pre-flight checklist, I have SOPs that I go through before I start driving, when I pull up to the pickup point, after I drop someone off, etc. First I make sure I can stop somewhere close to the pickup point out of the way of traffic. I park the car and turn on my blinkers. Next I unlock the doors. I make sure the dome light turns on when the doors open. I roll the windows up and turn the air conditioner on. Last I text the passenger using the app telling them that I have arrived. While I wait I keep an eye out for hazards and the passenger. If I notice the passenger has bags I pop the trunk, get out, and help them.

On the road I’ve noticed an increase in a phenomenon I call Honk Backs. Let’s say that one driver lingers after a light turns green and the car behind them honks. A Honk Back would be that first driver honking back in indignation (after they were honked at). I have yet to do a Honk Back and feel it is beneath the dignity of most drivers.

Not too late one night I drove an inebriated Korean man home. I had the strange desire to convince this guy that I had Korean friends and that I liked Korean food, which are both true. We talked about some Korean dish being real good and the best place in South Korea to get it. Later in the conversation I named my three Korean friends. I even got into how I liked Korean women a lot. He asked me to clarify. That’s when I knew I had talked too much. He then went on a polite tirade about how stupid the Chinese were and how they were buying up all the land and making prices go up.

When I started driving for Uber I believed I needed to get to the pick up point as fast as possible and that people wanted me to drive as fast as possible. Neither beliefs were true. People want to be driven safely. People appreciate slower, defensive driving when they have never driven with you before. I tend to show up earlier than expected at the pick up point and I often arrive safely at the destination ahead of time.

My father brought up to me today that the founders of Uber did something lavish with the money they got from their IPO. He said that it wasn’t fair while the average Uber driver struggles to make minimum wage. I told him that if it wasn’t for Uber I would be unable to pay my bills and it was great it was so easy to be legally employed by them.

I always thought the best drivers on the road (aside from racer drivers, stunt drivers, etc.) were truck drivers. Truck drivers are the titan sentinels of the road. Their driving skill is a testament to the number of hours they have behind a wheel. The legends of the Uber road are drivers with over 10 thousand rides. Can you imagine someone who has driven more in the last 3 months than you have in the last 3 years?

One night I drove a big Indian guy from one house to another. The whole ride he was on the phone talking in a low, deep voice, very slowly, in that Barry White style, but in Hindi. I imagined he was talking to the woman I was driving towards though I never saw who was in the house. I thought this dude had some game and was good at talking to the ladies. A few days later it occurred to me that what made this guy sound so smooth was talking slowly in a deep voice. Now I speak in a deep low voice to people that ride with me and I have received more pats than average.

Uber sent me a message in the App saying that I am covered by insurance as soon as I turn the App on. I’m sure it’s just for car insurance and not health insurance. I doubt they would cover me in a crash but it’s nice of them to cover damage to my car. It’s likely just liability coverage in case I maim or mangle.

One day I took a Black woman to the train station. She was older than me, but gracefully aged, and she wore a long dark dress with a floral print. She was the talkative type, which seems to be about 1 out of 25 people. By this I mean she was the type of rider that talks the entire drive. I’m happy to oblige and make smart conversation with people like this. She told me a story about how Condoleezza Rice lived back in the day when racism was really bad and her dad had to protect his family from attack by Klan members with his shotgun. My passenger said that she liked the idea that people in a country should have to serve in the military, that way they could learn to use guns and know more about what it means to send citizens off to war. She lamented that people in the government were tying to takeover the presidency. She also told a story about how her older relative was welcomed into the home of a family that wound up showing them an emerald green cloak and hood worn by certain leaders of the Klan. When we got to the train station she thanked me for the ride and I told her I would share her Condoleezza Rice story.

Tips make up about 10% of my Uber wages. Keeping my car washed and vacuumed, dressed in slacks, dress shoes, and a button shirt, freshly showered and shaved, helps increase my tips. It seems that people treat me based on the quality of my clothing. I would guess that tipping is done out of a sense of obligation (I tip you because you have earned my respect), and secondarily out of genuine thankfulness.

I don’t understand why gas prices are high in California even though we are energy independent thanks to Donald Trump.

I noticed some passengers give directions and make requests of me, and some passengers are quiet as a mouse though I drive miles off route in the wrong direction. I noticed the former tend to be from affluent neighborhoods and the later from poor neighborhoods. Meekness and humility seem to be more prevalent in Santa Ana while assertiveness and disagreeableness are more prevalent in Newport Beach. This reminds me of an article I read saying there were two types of parents that took their kids for a checkup: 1) parents that encourage their children to ask the doctor questions, 2) parents that tell their children to be quiet in the presence of the doctor.

I picked up a Muslim family and dropped them off in a nice gated community. There were two women wearing hijabs and an elderly man who had a speaking impairment. He seemed to make grunts of varying range and timbre to communicate. It was an unfortunate ride because along the route I made a left turn when I should have gone straight (it was a bizarre intersection foreign to me). The elderly man began grunting, confirming my mistake. I needed to make a U-turn at the next intersection to get back on track. It turned out it was illegal to make a U-turn at this intersection. I was already in the left turning lane though. I felt I owed it to this family to risk the illegal U-turn even though getting pulled over would be the absolute worse thing that could happen to me or my passengers, aside from a crash. Sometimes we succumb to the rush of the moment. After scanning for cops I made the U-turn when the light turned green. The truck behind me honked. When we got to the guard house at the entrance to the community I rolled down the windows and presumed to talk to the gate guard and give the guard the home number that the app had as the destination address. It turned out the house number I gave was not correct. The female passenger behind me told the gate guard the correct house number and had to give a name repeatedly. That day I learned to just roll down the windows and let the passengers talk to the gate house security.

It’s January 2nd and I am still able to drive for Uber. I guess they satisfied whatever requirements they needed with the state. I know that the future of Uber will be driver-less cars. I know that when I drive I am helping program Uber’s AI. I know that my function as a driver for Uber will be obsolete one day and that I am helping to expedite that goal. I do hope to drive for Uber in my old age when I’m retired so that I can get out of the house and stave off Alzheimer’s.

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https://chasedmandes.com/uber-driver-testimonial/

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