#trying to do poetry... so... um... yeah

[habitual-creatures]

ATTEMPTING TO GET BACK IN THE PATTERN OF WRITING POETRY.

ENJOY...

[ REGARDS, HABIT ]

HUNGER // SIN

THERE IS NOTHING LESS THAN NEED,

OF FLESH UPON THE TEETH.

I WATCHED HER BLEED,

TORE HER THROUGH, AND SAW BONE UNDERNEATH.

ISN'T SHE BEAUTIFUL?

WASN'T SHE GRAND?

HE CALLED IT UNSUITABLE,

HE WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND.

IT MADE HIM SICK.

BUT IN TRUTH,

IT MADE ME TICK;

HOW BLOOD RAN DOWN, LIKE SMOOTH VERMOUTH

AS HE THINKS OF HER,

HUNGER RISES AGAIN.

AND THERE LIES NO WAY TO DETER,

FROM THE TRUE FOLLIES OF MEN.

LEFT DRUNK ON THE HIGH,

WITH THE FADED MEMORY OF TASTE.

AS IT LEAVES WITH A DESPERATE CRY,

I AM YET DRAWN TO YOUR DISGRACE.

INVITE ME IN,

PRAY I AM NOT STARVED.

MY TONGUE IS SWEET AS BITTER SIN,

AND ALL OF HUMANITY HAS MY REGARDS.

[saidinpassing]

pocketful of sunshine, s. reid

`✦ ��ֶˑ ִֶ𓂃⊹જ⁀➴

in which, spencer valiantly defends your honor. as best as he can, at least. it's cute, i promise.

`✦ ִֶˑ ִֶ𓂃⊹જ⁀➴

trope: whimsy!reader x spencer, coworkers/friends

warnings: no smut, fluff, comfort, honorable mention of spencer's hands, defensive spencer, asshole cop wc: 2.34k

summary: The BAU cases are always dark, but you're like a little pocket of wonder in the chaos — always carrying odd little trinkets for good luck, quoting poetry at random, and doodling stars in the margins of case files. Spencer tries to act unaffected, but he starts picking up the habits too: absentmindedly quoting literature back, carrying a lucky coin you gave him, and smiling when he sees your sketches. Of course, being a glowing pillar of light in most rooms has its downs.

`✦ ִֶˑ ִֶ𓂃⊹જ⁀➴

You like the concept of tarot cards. It gives you a good sense of control, of stability in a job that tends to try and make things tumble out of their place, a way to have hopes for destiny. If you believe in that sort of sentiment. It stops the books from flying off the shelf. The awakening engine of the jet snaps you out of your thoughts as you raise your attention from the tarot cards sitting untouched in your palm. It's only a bit jarring, as always; planes startle you a bit. Emily sits across from you, book in hand, although you can tell she's not reading it. She's already falling asleep, the absent hum in the background serving as white noise for her napping. You flip through the tarot cards, brow furrowed in concentration as you turn three of the top ones over. The Lovers, the Fool, and The Hermit. The Fool's upside down. Hopefully that's not a bad thing. You slip the cards back into their respective places in the deck and pop up to get a coffee, careful not to bump Emily as you shuffle down the aisle. It's getting humid outside--condensation creeping up on the windows and clinging for dear life--you don't doubt it'll start raining soon.You're just about to pour your steaming hot black coffee when Spencer materializes behind you, and you almost spill all of it on yourself. "Crap! Spencer, what're you doing?"

He smiles apologetically, sheepishly. "Sorry, I--um, I was just wondering if we had any sugar." He holds up his own coffee mug, a black one with a cat on the front.

You sigh, handing him the mini sugar packet. "Don't apologise, some people just tread lightly. Scarily so, apparently." You smile back reassuringly. He nods, not moving away as you stir your coffee. You can feel his eyes on the back of your head. "So..." Oh, no, I've said the dreaded conversation opener. Don't panic, your charm will save you. If I even have any. He watches you intently, taking a sip from his coffee. He looks just about as if he'll hang onto your every word. It's making you nervous, and maybe it's making your face hot too, but you hope the lights are dim enough for it to be unnoticeable.

"What're the details of the case?" You finish up the coffee combo, turning so you're leaned against the back of the wooden counter.

He jumps into action, the awkwardness easing up as he shares details. "Looks like a 30-year old female victim, 27 year old male, about 23 stab wounds to the chest, arms and abdomen."

"Wow. That sounds...angry. Rage induced, I mean." You correct yourself, wincing mentally at the wording. You're smart, really smart, you just tend to forget technological terms in front of him.

"It looks like it." He hums as you both head back to the seats, sinking down across from one another in the leather. "The MO wasn't vehemently consistent, except for one thing." He pauses for dramatic effect. You nod, prompting him to go on as you cup your coffee mug in your hands.

"Crows."

You blink, tilting your head inquisitively. "...crows?" He nods rapidly. "Yeah, crows, carved in by the stabbing. As far as I've deduced, it matches up with an old poem about the meanings of amounts of crows. One for sorrow, one for birth, and so on.""Huh." Shuffling the tarot cards, you cross your legs. "So our unsub's intelligent. Maybe he thinks of himself like a poet?"

Spencer's shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. "It's too early to tell. It's a message, that's for sure." That sentence catches you a little off guard. Usually Spencer's determined to figure things out, determined to do everything he can to work out a puzzle as baffling as this one. But for some reason, he's quieter. More sullen, in a way.

You're not one for frowning, but one crosses your features anyways. "You okay?" He looks as if he's been caught, raising his brows and making a soft, dismissive noise. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I just haven't slept too much."

Of course he'd say that. You're still worried, but nonetheless exhausted from the day. It's always a good idea to catch a nap on the jet.

"You should just sleep through the flight. We both should, catch some Z's."

That wording just about makes you pinch yourself in frustration. You keep saying stupid things around him, and you're still not sure why to this day. All you know is that it annoys you severely. As you both drift off into a half-awake half-asleep state, you're too delirious to note the almost frivolous, unnoticeable detail of Spencer holding your lucky coin between his fingers as you fall asleep.

`✦ ִֶˑ ִֶ𓂃⊹જ⁀➴ When the jet hits Georgia, it apparently wants to hit you too. You're woken from the peaceful slumber by the turbulence, disoriented and bleary as you peek out the window. God, it's sunny. Too sunny for sensitive morning eyes. Nonetheless, a sense of your usual hope fills you as you peek out the window, think of a short sacrament to the sun and let her continue her slow burning of the Earth.

Spencer wakes up across from you as well, his expression adorably confused as he blinks. You observe. Wonder how his under eyes always stay the same hue of dark grey, then you go back to pedantically staring out the window. Apparently you two (with the exception of Hotch--does he ever sleep?) are early birds. The team's still dozing. Your eyes wander back over to him eventually, spotting the coin in his hand. "Hey, you kept it." He tucks his hair back behind his ear then smiles, just a little. "Oh. Yeah, I did. I don't usually believe in luck, but it's kept me safe so far." The words make something grossly warm and sticky build up in your chest and you snort, putting on your best 'newsperson' voice. "Rare sighting. A man of science carries a lucky coin." Spencer laughs. God, that's a pleasant sound. It's about just as sweet as he takes his coffee. There's a comfortable silence for a little period of time, just the two of you sitting there. Unsure of what to do or say. As you sit there, you end up watching the movement of his fingers around the coin. Flip. Flip again. You've always been somewhat aware of his dexterity, but just silently watching him now brings heat to your face. Nimble fingers, neat fingernails and ridges between his knuckles that you just want to trace with your own touch. Of course, said silence is eventually broken by Garcia's chirping tone. "Good morning, good morning, my loves, I am souped up on five coffees and feeling amazing." There's a collective groan between JJ and Morgan. Derek rubs his forehead, sitting up from the visually uncomfortable-looking position he'd taken on the couch as they start to land. "Babygirl, there are better ways to wake us up than singing in our ears." "Derek Morgan, if we were alone right now, I can assure you I'd be waking you up differently." Garcia jokes in her usual sultry tone, their casual friendly flirting making both you and Spencer roll your eyes. It's another three minutes before the others come to, and another five before they've drunk enough coffee for them to be able to profile efficiently. The little TV lights up with Garcia's face again, and she smiles. "I return, bearing less of a zapped, coffee-fuelled mind. Let's get into it." After you all go over the details of the case, discussing patterns in the signature and the whole crow thing Spencer mentioned before, you get off the jet with your go-bags. "It's bright." Is the first thing you can muster, cupping your hand above your eyes to avoid the harsh glare of the sun.

"Really bright." Reid adds on, frowns on both your faces. You get a little pouch out of your bag, picking out the gem of the day. Alexandrite. Brings balance, and luck. Also, it's pretty. The greeny-purple hues glimmer a bit in the sunlight as you turn it over.

"Let's get moving." Hotch says firmly, the rest of the team tagging behind albeit in a fatigued manner. It's going to be a long drive. `✦ ִֶˑ ִֶ𓂃⊹જ⁀➴ The station is quiet, it's the first thing you notice. Except for the papers rustling about, the typing, and scattered talking, it's not as busy as you'd expect it to be in a place that's currently rampant with serial killings. Spencer looks mildly horrified at the state of some of the officer's desks. "Do they not sanitize? There are at least over 10 million bacteria on a standard office desk." "Spence, I don't even think they sanitize their hands." You comment, noting the intern in the corner eating his takeout and typing. The expression on the genius' face after seeing it is comical. You almost want to laugh, but you're reminded it genuinely disturbs him, so you're just left giving him a brief, reassuring shoulder pat.

Ah, yes, the shoulder pat. The one form of human bodily communication cue your hand just itches to choose in pretty much any conversation. It's a problem, frankly. He doesn't seem to mind too much, anyways. Your hand drops from the fabric of his cardigan as you enter the tiny briefing room they have set up. It's a little more accommodating; a nicer table. "Okay, what do we know?" Hotch crosses his arms, letting the team file things away in their heads. You squint and focus on every aspect of the photos propped up on the board, your mind sharpening. Crows. Your thoughts fall down that rabbit-hole again, the interest peaking a bit. On this particular body, there are six. Six for gold. You can't understand the sentiments of the act at the moment, or at least, not the connections that the unsub was thinking of when he carved specifically six. If that was the intention, that is. "The MO isn't consistent with that of an organized killer but he's still careful enough not to leave behind DNA or anything obvious. Just obvious things on the bodies." Spencer pipes up, explaining his crow theory to the group a little excitedly. It's cute to watch from a different perspective.

A burly man--who you assume is the higher-up here--approaches Hotch with a firm handshake and a nod. A very, very quick moment passes between the two. A silent sharing of thoughts, if you will, and you just notice it before it's gone as if it was never there at all. Then introductions, and when Hotchner gets to you, the old man looks a bit...baffled? Maybe the better term is nonplussed. Flummoxed. Either way, he's looking at you like you're a different species. Your way of dressing, the trinkets and odd bits n' bobs pinned to your pants. It's not like you're unused to this sort of reaction. He's just sort of...pushing it. Making a hyperbole out of something that's not even a sentence at all. Then again, he seems like the type of guy to get annoyed with someone for licking an envelope wrong, so you just give him a blank stare back. "You're a bit...unorthodox." The officer raises a brow. You squint, unsure of how to reply. You're usually loquacious, but when it comes to backhanded insults you sort of just...shut up. The team seems stumped as well, but not pleased either way. "She's a valuable asset to the team." Hotch says stoically, tone flat. You just stand there. You're sick of this. Not the comments, but the wasting time. What if someone else is being murdered right now? And this station is what, sitting around eating Thai food and waiting for a saint to show up and fix their problems? It doesn't work like that, not in your head. The officer seems to like talking. "Well, I know, she probably is, but does the FBI really let its agents dress like that?" He makes a gesture to you with his hand. You eventually take a brief look over at Spencer, and it puts you into a state of momentary shock when you see he's bristling, jaw wound tight and frown creasing his brow. "She's good at her job, how she dresses isn't relevant, I think you'll find." The usually socially aversive doctor doesn't hesitate to shut down the chief's observations, brushing past him so he can get to the pin board. "I think we should review the crime scene instead of talking about things that aren't important at all." You raise both eyebrows. Okay, this is weird. Spencer's still going over the board, but it's obvious enough that he's not pleased. His mind is racing about two million miles a second as he tries to take his mind off that idiot who thought it'd be okay to try put you down, even mildly. Eventually when things have calmed down a bit, you sidle up next to him, peeking up at the board and pointing out a few small things. He lets out a huff of air, relaxing a bit at your presence. More pointing, then two or three infodumps later, he turns to you. "Are you alright?" He peers into your eyes with his own brown ones. They're like actual melted chocolate, so inviting and addicting. Like little chestnut pools of dopamine. You snap out of it so you can answer his question. "Oh, right. I'm fine. Little peeved, but fine." His brow furrows further as he observes, analysing your micro-expressions to judge whether you're actually okay or not. "You're sure?" You nod gently, leaning against the round wooden table propped in the middle of the room. "I'm sure, I'm fine." His hand hesitantly, very, very, hesitantly touches yours, another smile on his face, this one more embarrassed and trying to gauge your reaction so he'd doesn't mess up. "I need just one more confirmation to be sure. Think of it like a three-step verification, in a way." You sigh, little, pleasant pins and needles flickering up your arm in the form of goosebumps when he touches you. "I'm fine. There's number three." You take his lucky coin out of his pocket and hold it in front of him, your fingers intertwining with his in your free hand. "And, this can count as a number four." You're not sure what you mean or whether it makes sense, but Spencer can take that up with the universe later. "Sounds good to me." `✦ ִֶˑ ִֶ𓂃⊹જ⁀➴ a/n: PLEASE DONT HARRASS ME I WROTE THIS AT 1AM ON MY PERIOD WITH NO RELIEF I KNOW IT MIGHT NOT BE GOOD

`✦ ִֶˑ ִֶ𓂃⊹જ⁀➴

[thefearedashantis]

Use Your Words

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter isn’t listening

Warning: None

'Do you still love me?'

The question clangs painfully against the back of your clenched teeth when Peter mumbles ‘mhmm?’ for the fifth time throughout your story. The sudden urge to question his affections almost unbearable as you stand off to the side of his desk, still sweaty and in your outside shoes having been in a rush to tell him about your day. Heart leaping with joy over the compliment you’d received from a classmate in your poetry workshop.

“And then he bent me over and fucked me on the profs desk while everyone watched”

“Mhmm”

At least Ned and MJ were listening where they lounged about the room, albeit rosy in the cheeks. They encourage you to continue as if any of this could be remotely true.

“In fact, he asked me when we’d be able to make sweet love again.”

“Mhmm”

“Figured I could pencil a date in for next week seeing as I’ll probably be single by then”

“Yeah? That’s great junebug.”

Peter has not once lifted his gaze away from his laptop. The light of the screen reflecting off his glasses, casting a soft blue haze over his features.

Your two friends sensing the oncoming argument scuttle off silently to the kitchen with the excuse of wanting snacks.

“Petey?”

“Yes my love?”

“You know, if you want to break up all you have to do is say so.”

“Mhmm.”

You’re halfway to the door when his brows pinch inward. Shaking his head quickly, Peter struggles to rewind the conversation in between a slew of agonizingly complicated equations. His brain chugging along much slower than he’d like, than he's used to.

“Wait what?”

“I think I'll head home for the day, see you later," you mumble. You had some lectures to catch up with anyway.

He finally breaks away from the device, lowering the lid slightly “Wait bug what did you say?"

“Nothing.”

“No, you said something. Repeat it for me"

“I shouldn’t have to repeat it. You should have heard it the first time.” You spit over your shoulder, reaching for the doorknob.

Peters up, trailing behind you on long legs “Now hold on a minute, that's not fair.”

“And I wouldn’t be so bothered if this was a once in a while thing, but it's becoming an everytime thing! I come back after a good day or even a bad one, and I try telling you about it, and you sit there more focused on the performance of listening than actually listening." And what a performance it was. Leaning in, nodding with the occasional smile or eye contact or frown or gasp or laugh. All without actually having heard a word you said.

You listened to any and everything he had to share with enthusiasm and even questions to follow.

“That’s not true! I was listening.”

You cross your arms over your chest with a sceptical tic in your jaw “Ok, then what did my classmate say about my poetry?”

Peter stops in his tracks “um”

“quickly.”

“He said it was lovely?” You had used the word lovely in your story, but the questioning pitch of his voice has you fleeing all the same. He didn't know for sure if that was what you said.

Your fingers have just wrapped around the cool metal of the knob when all of a sudden your wrist is pinned to the door by a sticky white substance. A beat of silence resonates through the room before you're whirling on your boyfriend with twice as much annoyance as before.

“You did not just web me!” You yell

“Everything's happening too fast!” Peter wails, arm still extended from trapping you, pupils wide.

“Well allow me to excuse myself while the boy genius catches up,” you say, going for your keys. You'd use them to saw your way free, no matter how long it took. But as soon as you wiggle them free from your pocket, another web shoots out and sticks your free arm to the other side of the door. The keys clank uselessly to the ground. “Stop doing that!”

“Stop trying to leave!”

“If I don’t go now ill be late for my date with someone who actually cares about what I have to say!”

“I do care about what you have to say!" The wet rasp of his confession immediately extinguishs your anger. With a predatory focus, you hone in on the abrupt glossy sheen of his eyes, the rosy tint creeping up his neck. The way he starts to shift his weight from foot to foot, rubbing his plams against the abrasive material of his jeans. His lips tremble, pale with the force of his trying to keep them still. "I-" He chokes. Stops. Gaze snapping up to the ceiling before running to you. Working his jaw back and forth as if the words are fighting him, refusing to be spoken, "I've just been really fumbling with the whole juggling school and spidermanning lately.”

The sentence seems to zap what little energy he has. He stumbles in what you assume to be relief, to sit down on his bed. Removing his glasses, he tosses them without care, pressing his knuckles into his eyes and scrubbing at them cruely “…’m tired”

You watch in silence as Peter closes in on himself. He uses his hands to muffle his sniffles, but in doing so, allows a few salty drops to escape and slip along the slope of his nose. Falling from the tip, a row of tiny dark splots begins to form on his shirt. His tears only drip faster as the minutes tick by. His chest stuttering erratically with the task of inhaling and exhaling.

It makes you feel shitty but you don't try to comfort him.

You remain still and quiet as to not disturb the moment in fear that if Peter remembers you're there, he'll attempt to compose himself when all he really needs is to let it out.

When he's cried himself dry, you probe lightly “are you eyes hurting you again?”

He doesn't raise his head. You're faced with knots and tangles of brown “mhmm.”

“words please parker.”

“So much” he gasps, seemingly renewed with sorrow.

This is the boy, you realize, the one Aunt May has told you about amongst the shadows and hush of night. When you sleep over on weekends and wake up longing for a cold glass of water, slipping from bed a little while before dawn only to find her already up, never having actually gone to bed.

The boy who tries to shield his gentle soul behind humour and smarts. Who often takes on much more than he can handle to satisfy others, and is content to crush himself beneath the weight of responsibility if only to let one more person rest easy that day. The one who yearns to please above all else.

Peter often suffers from aches and pains, comes with the territory, but his facial discomfort has been a persistent problem of late. A deep soreness in his cheekbones, temples, behind his eyes, that no pain killer seemed to relieve.

“temple massage?”

“Please?”

With a final sniffle, Peters back on his feet. Swaying over, he makes quick work of freeing you. Pressing shy kisses of apology to your wrists.

No longer having it in you to be upset, you swat him back towards the bed, getting comfortable in your usual postions. Your back propped up on the pillows, Peter sprawled across your lap, face plastered against your tummy. His arms loop around your thighs, fingers playing with the stiching on your pants.

Retrieving the oil and comb from his sidetable, you set to work untangling his hair before you get to the real job of massaging his scalp and temples. A repetitive activity that allows you both time to think about what you've been truly wanting to say.

“You make me feel so invisible sometimes." You start. Peters' hair is soft despite being so uncared for. You comb back his bangs, cupping his face gently and shifting it to look up at you "like it doesn’t matter if I’m here or not. I know you're a busy person, and i accept and love that part of you. But all i ask is five minutes where we act like I'm not some annoyance.”

Insecurity was something you'd fought tooth and nail to rid yourself of over the course of your relationship. Not only a genius but a superhero , being interested in a mere arts major certainly took a toll on the psyche. Sometimes, you caught yourself slipping back into not so nice thoughts and behaviours.

A flash of hurt strikes across Peters face. When he speaks, warmth puffs under the hem of your shirt “I’m sorry. I'm not doing it on purpose. I love having you around and hearing about your day. It's the most relaxing part of my own."

“That’s why you need to tell me when you’re feeling overwhelmed so I can support you in the way you need. I never want you to feel like that.” Like there's nobody in his corner paying attention to his needs.

You accept the apology and continue with your work of destressing your boyfriend. His eyes fall shut after a time and you think he's fallen asleep, familiar with post cry exhaustion when,

“He said you write with patience, giving every word the chance to be what it wants to be” Peter whispers.

���Now, was that before or after he stuck his tongue down my throat?”

“Bug” he groans, springing up. He playfully shoves you back with an exaggerated scowl. You roll to your side, giggling at your own antics. Peter closes in. Slotting a thigh between your legs to lay his body against yours, smothering you with his elevated temperature.

“Trick question! It wasn’t his tongue he stuck down my throat.”

Another howl of disgust rips free from Peter “I hate you!”

“liar!”

Divider: @sister-lucifer

[yenqa]

POEMS IN VERSE(S)

sypnosis — you meet jay randomly on a subway, and soon your conversation turns into more than just the silly poem book he’s reading

warnings — profanities, mentions of insecurities, angst, they’re so gross (in a “i’m jealous” way), food/eating/drinking, lmk if there are any more :)

pairing — jay x fem!reader

word count — 3.8k+

yen’s note — i worked very hard on this and i’m pretty happy with this so i hope u enjoy :) also this is a scheduled post

Spring Break, 2019

You counted down the amount of days it would be until you turned 17.

17 was the golden age—Or at least it was supposed to be. But the thrill of turning a new age was over by the next 15 minutes. Your big smile that had originally been processing the newfound year of your life slowly dropped, as your age didn’t really matter much to anyone else than your mom or dad.

17 was when you first realized that people didn’t really care as much as you thought they did. No one would care if your hair was slightly frizzy and tangled from the light wash of rain or the fact that you enjoy reading and writing poetry.

You realized no one cared, but it was hard to stop believing it.

So, you brought a hairbrush around, or quickly hid your journal and pen anytime someone got close to you. 

You’re still 17. And you still felt like how you felt 15 minutes after midnight. You felt dull. Washed-out. And the rainy season hasn't helped enlighten your mood at all.

You decided to take an impulsive day trip south, to the buzzing city of Seattle, and also wanting to take a break from everyone and the life you knew. You rushed to the subway, the tote bag that hung on your shoulder had collided with your body every step you took.

You stand right in front of the entrance, scanning the cart to see one empty seat. Sitting down, you address your surroundings, trying to read if maybe it would be a better idea to stand.

Next to you was a man around your age. Silently reading a book with a familiar cover. Staring at the book longer than you realize, you can see the man next to you no longer focused on the book, but you.

“Oh—I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to be staring, I just recognized the book, Lee Jieun right?”

You almost dreamily sigh every time she’s mentioned. Lee Jieun had been your favorite author for longer than you can remember, one of your favorites by her being the one the unnamed man happened to have been reading.

“Do you know her?” He asks.

Looking up at you he jerks his head to the left, his light brown hair moves out of his eyes revealing his full face. You almost forget to answer the question, busy goggling at the sight of him. His eyes laid in yours, awaiting your answer patiently.

“Yeah, I-um she’s one of my favorites actually.”

His eyes subtly check you out, you quickly realize how stupid you must’ve looked with the amount of frizz in your hair from the light drizzle outside. Slowly but not too obviously, you bring your hands up, brushing through whatever you could. Explaining to the man that the book he was reading was one of your favorite poem books. Accidently sharing that you look up to her poems and hope to have the ability to write and share your writing as inspiration for others.

He listens intently, before asking, “You write?”

Your ears grow warm as you answer every question he asks. An unusual thing that happens to you. The conversation grows into each other's lives. And you feel as if you know every part of him as he continues to talk. 

Park Jongseong is his name but his English name is Jay.  His favorite color is green. He likes fashion and cooking. He enjoys autumn and poetry as much as you do. He’s allergic to cats—which is a shame considering the amount of cat hair over your bag that you discreetly try to brush off while he’s talking. His favorite ice cream flavor is Pistachio and he’s not a huge fan of mint chocolate.

You’d usually argue that mint chocolate is the perfect flavor for a hot summer day but you keep quiet, just this once.

Something must’ve snuck into your brain and rewired it because you don’t seem to mind him knowing that you write. In fact you even offer to let him see your works. He reads each word intently, as if it was the most shocking news of the year. 

His favorite is the one you spent the most time on. But it didn't feel as if it was your best work. You didn’t keep quiet about that fact, you hesitated to even let him read that page, but the one line seemed to have piqued his interest. Almost as if his eyes had been glued onto the small stanza.

Together we’re complete

Our perfect harmony 

is truly beautiful.

You were always one to believe in soulmates, or finding someone that perfectly fit next to you. Like the final piece to your complicated puzzle. Your belief often appeared in your writings. Hoping that maybe one day, you’ll meet the missing piece from your board. That day hadn’t come yet. But you were counting down the days just as if you were about to turn 17 again.

“I like that line. What does it mean?” He asks.

“I don’t know, it just sounded right.”

That’s a lie. You know exactly what it means to you. But even as comfortable as you had felt with Jongseong. It was something too personal to share.

If you could name anyone who was the biggest sucker for romance you would name yourself. But it’s been 17 years, and you don’t even think that it was a possible option for you. Sure, you hoped to find your soulmate. But your soulmate could’ve easily been a truly platonic one. And you were losing hope for any romance coming your way. Writing about romance made you feel as if the small ball of hope was still there, and you just had to wait for the right time. 

Those 17 years had told you that you couldn’t be loved. No matter how hard you tried, or even begged. This epiphany randomly hit you in the middle of buzzing parties or small group hangouts, the thought of nobody ever loving, let alone liking you constantly consumed you. Constantly bringing down your mood. That’s why you’re so fond of the idea of soulmates. Because soulmates are perfectly perfect together, and that's ensured by the universe.

He lets out a chuckle, with an understanding nod. Skimming through the small notebook you handed him.

“Why are you heading to Seattle?” You ask as he finishes, placing the notebook neatly in your bag. His mouth parts slightly, carefully choosing what to say. “I’m just taking a day trip, wanted to go explore alone.”

A small smile breaks out of you. “Would you want to travel around Seattle together?”

Jongseong lets your smile grow onto his lips, accepting your bold offer.

The conversation ends and he reopens his book, continuing the page he was on. The ride still had at least thirty minutes to go, and you didn’t want to use all your phone battery now.

You glance over to his book, cursing at yourself for forgetting to bring something to do other than play the stupid games on your phone. He silently reads as your head moves to his shoulder, laying it down and reading with him. You can feel him flinch ever so slightly, his shoulders relax before he moves the book over to the middle of you two, not uttering a word while doing so.

“Thank you,” Your voice is barely above a whisper, and you’re not sure if he even heard it until he responds.

After around 45 minutes the subway comes to a stop and you tap Jongseong, pointing at the moving text on the sign to show you that you’re at your destination. He hastily picks up his stuff, grabbing your hand and walking out the doors. 

“Where do we go?” You ask, looking around for any sort of sign that states the direction.

“Just follow me, I've been here a few times.” His warm hand leads you through the busy people trying to get in, pushing through the loads of people heading towards the small amount of doors in the cart. Jongseong looks back every so often, making sure the hand he’s holding isn’t a ghost. Your eyes lock, and you show him a small smile of appreciation. He smiles back, raising his eyebrows before turning back around, leading you through the clusters.

Finally, you walk up the stairs, stepping into the daylight. Still hand in hand, you use your off hand to cover your eyes from the shade. “Didn’t think it would be so sunny after all the rain this month,” You squint at the bright sky, looking over to Jongseong. He’s rummaging through his bag, pulling out a small box, opening it to reveal sunglasses. You chuckle at how prepared he is, until he places the sunglasses on you. 

Your stomach erupts in butterflies as your mouth parts slightly, a smile grows on his face. “Oh no, keep them. I don’t need them” You hastily take off the sunglasses, handing them to him. He takes them, putting them back on you. You’re about to protest when he says. “Stop—just take them. I want you to wear them,” He mumbles. 

You smile at him, “Thank you Seong.” The nickname comes out naturally, like you’ve known him for years. He smiles, looking away to hide the growing redness of his cheeks. You let out a breathy laugh, covering the bottom half of your face to hide the flustered state you’re in.

“Where do you wanna go?” He asks with a shy smile still planted on his face. You shrug, answering, “I have no idea. Do you have any ideas?” 

His smile becomes less shy and somehow forms into a slight smirk “I have an idea.” his hands encase yours once again, and he whisks you two off to the unknown direction. 

The walk is around twenty minutes, but it goes by quickly. While you two are racing to see who can hit the crosswalk button, you notice the crowds of people around the big red letters stating, “Seattle’s Farmers Market.”

You squeal, a hand coming up to cover your mouth. “I’ve always wanted to go here! You’re like a mindreader, Seong.”

With his other hand he pinches your cheek, squeezing your hand and leading you to the entrance. The growing crowd of the market pushes you to bump into each other every so often,  you both laugh it off, placing your attention to whatever shop you’re checking out.

Coming across a tropical fruits stand, you start looking around, picking up a tray every so often. Not realizing the missing warmth from your hand, you scan the selection of fruits. Picking up a Rambutan, you move the tray around, trying to see if the fruit will be worth the price. You’re eye level with the fruit until you feel a tap on your shoulder.

You whirl around, to see Jongseong. A big grin planted on his face as he revealed why he’s smiling so much.  A bouquet of tulips, wrapping in brown paper with twine wrapped around it waiting for you to take. But you’re frozen—Did he really just buy flowers for you?

He thrusts his hands out towards you, gesturing for you to  take them. You let out a giggle, taking the brown wrapped plants out of his hands. “Gosh you’re so sweet. What did I do to deserve all of this?” You ask, the corners of your mouth slowly upturn when you look at the flowers, admiring the arrangement of light pink tulips. “Can’t I spoil you?” He responds smoothly, not letting you respond before linking your arms and heading to the next stalls.

Passing—What felt like hundreds of stalls, your feet started to cramp up. Both of you decide to take a break and sit down, finding a cafe nearby. You order for the both of you and pay—Which he strongly protests but you feel too bad for him spending too much money on you. Sitting down you let out a sigh, finally letting your feet take the much needed rest.

You two make small talk, talking about your favorite shops or something you wish you had bought. When the barista calls out your name you shoot out of your seat, exchanging a glance with Jongseong before walking over, thanking the lady and grabbing your drinks.

A wave of comfortable silence washes over you two as you try your drinks, glancing out the huge window by your table. You watch as families, couples, or just one person pass by that window. Trying to figure out something about them as they quickly pass by. 

After an hour of quiet conversations of whatever intrigues you, you decide to leave the cafe. Dinner time was approaching and you wanted to beat the rush. Surprisingly, you both quickly decide on a restaurant to go to, a nice restaurant that perfectly suited your cravings. During dinner you exchange numbers, not being able to wait for the next time you’ll see each other.

The sun starts setting when you both decide to go home, walking to the subway station hand in hand. Paying for your fare you both head on the subway, sitting down next to each other. A yawn washes over you, laying your head back and closing your eyes—It’s not like you’ll fall asleep right?

It’s a shame that you did fall asleep. You feel yourself being gently shaken awake by Jongseong. You lift your head up from his shoulder, looking around the subway. 

“Your stop is the next one. Can’t have you half asleep walking home.” He chuckles, you rub your eyes. Trying your best to stretch with the little space you have. “Thank you Seong.” You yawn, letting out a small smile.

He nods, inviting the smile from your face onto his. The subway comes to a stop once again and you look at him with a slight sadness. Planting a chaste kiss on his cheek you let out, “I had fun today, Seong. Let’s do it some time again, yeah?”

“Okay,” He says, smiling. “Text me when you get home okay?” You salute him, walking away with a lovesick smile on your face.

Jongseong holds the same one, still feeling the linger of your kiss on his cheek. He lets his hand touch his cheek, embarrassed by the amount of warmth that flooded his cheeks.

Spring, 2021

It had been around a year and a little over a half since the two of you had even talked.

You don’t know if he got a new number or randomly ghosted you. Even though you had met a bunch of times after, it seemed like he realized that he didn’t like you as much as you thought he did.

You should’ve expected it, I mean—It’s not like anybody could like you that much.

Sighing, you open the messaging app. Typing something in his chat before deleting it. Scrolling up to your old messages.

You hated the fact that you missed him even though you never even dated. You hated the fact that you thought you could be something more than just a failed situationship. You hated the fact that you thought someone could prove you wrong and that someone could love you.

But, of course. All good things came to an end. And what seemed to be like the only good thing in your life, completely ghosted you. You like to believe that he got a new number and forgot to tell you, or lost his phone and had to get a new sim card. But it still hurt.

So, everytime you thought of him, you reopened those messages, trying to reiterate the happiness you felt while texting him.

Looking down to the bottom of your phone you see the empty textbox, mocking you for opening the chat once again. You decide, What’s the harm in messaging him? Maybe he just missed your last few. Clicking on the textbox you type slowly, carefully thinking about your words before sending it.

hey, are you still there? didn’t take you for the type who ghosts girls

You sigh, deleting the text quickly. Looking over to see the ungodly hour of the night displayed on your clock you place your phone down, tucking yourself nicely under the blanket, praying to every god that maybe, he’s okay.

Autumn, 2022

“Have you heard Enhypens recent album? It’s so good!” Hanni exclaims, changing the music playing in the background to listen to the album.

“This is like a few months old, but anyways—Shout out is the best song ever, you should play that song.” Minji answers. They both look at you, asking for your opinion. “Who’s Enhypen?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing as you look up from your phone.

Minji scoffs, “My seven boyfriends. Listen to this song! Isn’t it so good?”

You listened to the background, bopping your head to the upbeat guitar in the instrumental. The lyrics were sweet, and meaningful. Even though you quit poetry, words still had lot’s of meaning for you, and you loved when they found significance in songs. One guy’s voice sounds so vaguely familiar, you brush it off. You probably just saw a clip of him singing a while back and didn’t remember. Getting to the second verse you pay much attention to the lyrics. Your jaw drops hearing one of the lines.

“What’d he just say? Can you rewind a few seconds Hanni?” You ask and she shrugs, opening her phone to go back a few seconds.

Listening to the same verse again you hear those awfully familiar lyrics.

Our perfect harmony

Is truly beautiful

You know those words like the back of your hand. You wrote these exact words in a poem two or three years ago. Could this be a coincidence? Probably, right? You’re too consumed in your own thoughts to hear both of the echoes of your name, following with Hanni asking why.

Slowly pulling out your phone, you quickly search “Enhypen” into the bar. Looking at the members you scan the faces. Looking at them all you see—

Jay.

That’s Jongseong.

No way, it can’t be. Clicking on his link you’re met with a collage of images. Your body seems to be moving faster than your mind because immediately you scroll down to read the small box of information about him. Oh and of course his name is Park Jongseong too but that's a coincidence, right? Switching apps, you open a selfie you and Seong took on one of your few dates.

You feel as if your eyes will shoot out of your brain, blurting out “I know him.”

Minji and Hanni both exchange weird looks, “You know who? Enhypen? Letting out a hesitant nod, they both rush over to see Jongseong’s information box on your screen. Switching apps to show them the selfie, then each side by side.  “Y/n, you know Jay? As in Enhypen’s Jay?” Hanni gives you a bewildered look. You turn your head up to see Minju sharing the same one. Blinking profusely, you try to figure out how this is even possible. 

“Yes! Remember the guy who ghosted me like two years ago? That’s him!” You exclaim, aggressively pointing to a picture of him. Minji’s mouth opens, forming an “o”. You all sit in silence processing this information.

Breaking the silence, Minji scoffs, “You’re telling me you had a situationship with Jay Park? 

Another long silence follows, you all try to process the fact that the one you deemed as “the one who got away” was globally famous. Maybe he realized his worth, and left you. Maybe, he didn’t bother contacting you because he secretly disliked you. Or maybe he—

“Y/n, he’s coming to Seattle.”

You whip your head to the incoming voice. Instead of seeing a face, you see a phone, straight in front of you listing tour dates. You grab a hold of the phone, making sure you read the words right. “Seattle, Washington. 9/28.”

“They’re coming in a week?” You exclaim, eyes not leaving the phone for a second. Hanni rushes over and you all huddle around the phone. Your breath quickens as you process even more information. And you felt like your brain was about to explode, he would be. in city? in a week?

Hanni practically screams, shaking your shoulders harshly. She seems much more excited than you did, blabbering about how you would reunite and fall in love again. Rolling your eyes, you hand Minji back her phone. You start to question every life decision you had made in the past three years. Would he even remember you? What if it’s a different Jongseong who just happened to have the same name and look exactly like the Seong you once knew? Would you even run into him for the few days he’s there?

These thoughts circle in your brain as you lay down in bed. You thought you were over him—you weren’t even anything to begin with. Maybe it's the quickening beat of your heart to the thought of him , or the smile you hold in whenever you look back at your texts, or maybe even the loneliness you felt after him that keeps you going.

Autumn, 2022

The light breeze engulfs your body. Even though the sun seems to be blinding everywhere it’s still as chilly as ever. Looking at everyone’s outfits on the sidewalk you realize how stupid you look. Fully clothes but with sunglasses covering your eyes. Was it a necessary choice? No—but you realized that after you had left the house. It didn’t matter anyways, you could just take them off (you weren’t but it was still an option). 

Taking your lunch break you walk to the cafe around the corner from your building. Recognizing the cafe as one you visited a few years ago. You ordered the same drink you did three years ago—also ordering a sandwich to eat. You sit down at a table two tables away from the one you once sat at. Placing down your sunglasses you glance around the cafe while waiting for your food. 

Noticing a man in a baseball hat and a mask, you squint trying to see his face. Giving up seconds later and observing someone else. Eyes latching onto the pretty barista making your order. Watching as she quickly makes your sandwich and starts on your drink, not wasting a second to spare.

“I think those sunglasses are mine?” The masked man comes up to you, taking off his baseball cap. You get a better view of his eyes, recognizing the crinkle of his eyes when he smiles.

“Jay?” It’s barely above a whisper, but he still hears it.

He pulls down his mask, showing the face you once knew three years ago, but much more mature now. “Y/n, can we talk?” He sounds nervous, almost jittery. Constantly looking around at the strangers walking by.

“Yeah, of course.” The light tone of your voice calms him down every so slightly, sitting down in front of you with a lopsided smile. 

Never in your life would you have thought you’d meet a celebrity that actually wanted to talk to you, And never in your life would you expect it to be him. Seong—Your Seong, sitting in front of you, carefully selecting every word he utters to you. The one who always knew what to say, can’t seem to get the right words out.

taglist : @jwnghyuns @ja4hyvn @trsrina @redm4ri @badmuni @yeokii @enhastolemyheart @softpia @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick

hope u liked 😍

[jenniferjareauwife]

Hi, can you write about JJ’s teenage daughter being in an abusive relationship. She usually loves to write, like short stories or poems and things like that, but her boyfriend/girlfriend has been telling her that it’s a waste of time so she’s stopped.

It can go something like this: “You don’t like to write anymore?” “No, it’s just a waste of time.”

Waste Of Time

pairing: jennifer jareau x daughter reader

category: hurt/comfort

warnings: abusive relationship

word count: 828

summary: your boyfriend is making you change yourself and your mom is there to help

I had changed completely and I was sure my mom noticed. I didn't do anything I used to enjoy anymore because I didn't feel comfortable being myself anymore. "Hey honey." My mom walked into my room and saw me laying on my bed on my phone.

"Hi." I kept scrolling on my phone when she sat down next to me. "What's up?"

"Nothing. Just wanted to see you." I put my phone down and cuddled into her side. She put her arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. She scanned my room, not seeing any notebooks or random papers scattered around like she used to when I would write all day. I used to skip doing my schoolwork and would lose sleep just so I could write. "You don't like to write anymore?"

"No, it's just a waste of time." I sighed and rested my head on her shoulder. She laughed softly, thinking I was joking.

"Oh. Honey, you're serious?"

"Mhm."

"But you loved writing. You wrote ever since you were five, what changed?"

"It's just...not enjoyable anymore."

"Oh." She rubbed my shoulder gently. "I didn't know you felt that way." I usually told her everything so I could tell she was a bit hurt that I hadn't told her.

"Well I do." I let out another sigh.

"When did that happen?"

"A couple months ago." I could practically feel her heart drop when I told her. "What?"

"Sweetheart...what's going on?"

"Nothing."

"Two months ago you started changing everything about yourself."

"No I didn't."

"I'm your mom. I notice things."

"You didn't notice that I had stopped writing."

"That's because you do it in your room and I never know when you do it. But I do realize that you've changed the foods you eat, the activities you do, the things you say. I just want to know...are you ok?"

"Yeah I'm fine mom."

"Honey..."

"Mom-"

"I don't want you to lie to me. I understand if you don't want to talk about it but I just need to know, are you ok? A simple yes or no."

"I'm fine."

"That's not a yes or no. That's like a maybe."

"No. Ok? I'm not fine."

"So what's going on? Or do you not want to talk about it?"

"I don't know." I whispered, wanting so badly to open up to my mom about my boyfriend and I's relationship but I just didn't know how to get the words out.

"Well I'm here if you want to talk about it, ok?" I nodded and pulled the covers up over us, wanting to tell her I wanted her to stay without actuslly saying it. "I'm staying baby." She kissed the top of my head and stroked my hair.

"It's um...it's Lewis."

"What's Lewis?"

"He's the reason I don't write anymore."

"Did he say something?"

"He...he said it was a waste of time. He said I could be spending that time doing something else."

"Like what."

"Hanging out with him."

"Oh baby...that's not good, you know that? What else did he say?"

"He said my stories were dumb, that no one would ever like them." My voice got quieter every second, once I said the words out loud I realized how stupid it was that I was still in the relationship.

"Oh honey." She rubbed my back slowly, pulling me over a bit so I was laying on top of her.

"He said my poetry was bland." I realized a few tears had fallen down my cheeks since she was trying to wipe them away.

"It's not bland. You know he's just trying to tear you down, right?" I frowned and nodded, feeling stupid for not seeing through it earlier. I was actually glad when he told me those things because I thought I had met someone who was finally honest with me but now I knew he was just doing it to hurt me and that hurt like hell.

"I wish I didn't care...you know?"

"You're always going to care, you always have. You have a big heart, that's nothing to cry about."

"But it makes me cry a lot."

"I know hon." She started massaging my scalp a bit. "But it's ok to cry. Just don't let him tear you down. It's not ok that he's telling you that your hobbies are a waste of time and that you're bad at it. That's not his place to do and he is a complete shithead for saying it."

"Thanks mom."

"Do you still want to write? Are you still interested in it?"

"Of course I am."

"Then you should really get back to it."

"But I don't know what to write about anymore."

"Write about Lewis. Write about how he's a dickhead who tries to change you to fit into his mold." I nodded a bit and hugged her tighter. "So...what do you wanna do about it?"

"I wanna write." I looked up at her and smiled.

"That's my girl."

[sneeky-bean]

ok, don't get me wrong, I LOVE girlblog tumblr, but I want to be on more sides of tumblr too. like I have so many different interests, and I want to see more about them too. so I obviously want to stay on girlblog tumblr, but I want to see other stuff too, so ik this is so random, but like feel free to @ me in other random posts. like I wanna be on all the sides of tumblr. ok obvi not all (please no sexual crap or any sort of bigotry) but yeah I just wanna see more random things idc what really. like if you see something or post something I might like lmk, it doesn't really matter what (except for what I said before), but yeah I like pretty much everything. like a cute video of rats? I love rats, go ahead and @ me. I love animals in general. bears, foxes, cats, opossums, frogs, crows, and yeah, pretty much everything. see some cool poetry? I love that shit. a random shitpost or meme? well absolutely. writing tips? excellent. a recipe? I love cooking. fashion? um yes pls. weird little trinkets? I would love that? mythology? ooh yess. a new cool scientific study? that's hella cool. art stuff? yes yes yes. music? I live on that shit and like pretty much every genre. fandom stuff? oh hell yeah. even if it's not one I'm into, I might know someone who is, so don't worry about that. (if you are wondering some that I'm into and can think of off the top of my head would be the marauders, marvel, and oh fuck a lot more but my brain is so blank but if you're curious you can ask). anyway yeah this is so random and ik probably no one will do it, but it would be like so cool if someone did. I'm also trying to be online more, so I can work on my fear of literally any human interaction, so I'm hoping this might help? idk. so yeah if you see some cool shit feel free to @ me<3 (also if you have questions pls ask!)

[albatross-lancer]

[ECHO.EXE RUNNING]

◂▸ Hello AK!! Do you uh, mind me keeping on calling you that? We know each other by name now after all but, it's how you introduced yourself the first we spoke. Would you prefer Kuhnei? OH uh- this is Helios-8 btw!! Glad to hear you're back to the account, and I hope you're feeling better after the Ordeal.

◂▸ I'm writing to you about the offer you made a few days back though, about when T-E was having their shutdown. Sorry it took me a while to get back to it I uh... eugh. I had to file incident reports regarding the shutdown. Managed to keep it vague enough to avoid having an inciting incident on paper but I hate writing those things.

◂▸ Anyway, you mentioned you could maybe send over some writings from liberated clones, NHPS's- those would be insanely useful if you can get them out to us. And insanely illegal yeah, but... well. I'm kind of in deep already, y'know? Considering I got Union involved. If it came out I was the whistleblower I'd probably be done for treason haha... um, point being all of this is illegal anyway so what's a little more :] Do you... do you think there's anything in there regarding NHP's dealing with friends who'd been cycled? It's not directly analogous to something I'm trying to figure out but it's... comparable.

◂▸ Oh, and- thank you, for sharing your own experiences!! I... the dehumanisaiton is a little different yeah, but it does me good to hear how you broke through regardless y'know? T-E is my priority right now but they're... there's a lot of flashclones I've seen leave this lab. One day I'd like to try and find them again, see if I can't help them find something better too. Plenty of em were made for auxiliary roles, might be treading a similar path. It's... it's really good to hear how you started pushing through it before getting out. Feeds what little hope I've managed to keep ahold of :]

◂▸ Unfortunately T-E would wipe the floor with me if I tried to spar with them lol, but it sounds like maybe the group activity is a big part of it... ooo maybe I could try that Minecraft thing they got sent a while ago. I think it's multiplayer? Getting them to play a game might help loosen the stranglehold of duty at least. That's an idea :D

◂▸ Take care, and hey- thanks again.

[ Helios-8 // @xiii-e ]

//

Hello Helios-8! It feels wonderful to speak to you without the barrier of subterfuge. Either AK or Kuhnei are perfectly fine by me, and I have more or less 100% after everything that has happened, and most glad to be back.

Epiphany and I have put together a folder of files for you: Books, essays, poetry, audio logs, even some digital transcriptions of my old paper notebook from back when I was with SSC. We have big names like Tyrannocleave and OMETEOTL, and unknown individuals just getting their thoughts on paper. I sincerely hope that they are of use to you and Thirteen-E.

[Attached folder: Collected_Wisdom_of_the_Crafted.zip]

This Minecraft game seems a good thing to try. Good fortune to you, and have fun!

[yzeltia]

FFXIVwrite2024 8. Wedding Vows

Characters: U'rahn Nuhn, Postmoogle Expansion: Endwalker(Timeline Wise, Otherwise Irrelvant) Rating: G Summary: U'rahn practices for his big day with his biggest antagonist. Notes: Freeday prompt given to me by @beyond-mortal-limits *Based on Shakespeare's Sonnet 18 **Based on George Michael's Father Figure

“Alright! Have we started? Now remember, only write the stuff down that I’m saying for the vows. You don’t have to write it all down…you better not be writing this down…Augh. Anyway. My Vows….My vows….Let’s try:

“Nyx, I’ve loved you since you first took your hand and led you to go do all the stuff Zoissette didn’t want me to do with me…-

“Yes it was a date for someone else? Why? What do you mean that’s lame. Don’t you kupo at me! I’m paying you to write stuff not give me dating advice! Let’s try again. …Maybe traditional?”

“I, U’rahn Nuhn, take you, Nyx Blackmoon, for my eternally bonded spouse, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do…well, until death do I part. I will love and enrich you all the days of my life.

“How’s that? What do you mean ‘lame, kupo?’!? It’s traditional! …Okay …Nyx is not a traditional bride but that doesn’t matter cause they’re going to be the most beautiful and special brrride there’s ever been. Don’t ‘Sure, kupo!’ at me! It’s trrrue! But you’re right…Nyx loves me for my orrriginality and that I enrrrich them…Maybe poetry? I can be poetic! Urianger taught me sonnets after Nyx taught me Haiku!!…Can too! Oh yeah!?

“Shall I compare thee to a Summer’s Night?

Thou art more um…lovely and temperature

Rough winds do shake my darling buddies in May

And Summer’s heat hath all too short a date,

Sometimes too hot the eye of Nidhogg shines

And often is gold and complex and I’m dimmed,

And every faerie from faerie sometimes decides

By chance of nature’s changing course to their whim…d

But thy eternal Summer shall not fade

Nor lose possession of thou wanderer’s shade

When in eternal bonds to time thou grow’st

So long as Nuhn can breathe or eyes can see

So long lives this one, and he gives his life to thee-* Stop laughing!

“I swear, moogles are nothing but trouble. That was really good! Yes, I recited it perfectly from the book that Urianger gave me! No I didn’t guess! Just keep your comments to yourself and help write down my vows or I’ll feed you to a sandworm!

“Now…if poems won’t work. How about a song:

“That's all you wanted

Something special, someone enriching 

In your life-

Just for one moment

To be warm and naked

At my side-

Sometimes I think that you'll never

Understand me 

But something tells me together

We'd be happy, oh-oh, baby

I will be your Nuhn figure

Put your tiny hand in mine 

I will be your preacher teacher

Anything you have in mind-”**

“What? That off key? …Yeah, I’m not very good. Maybe if I asked Big Bro Erick or Big Bro Thancred to back me up in the vocals? No? Yeah…no. I can even admit I’m not the best singer. Alright. Fine…What do you think I should do? … … … Ah…I can try that…:

“Nyx…When I’m around you I feel invincible…Not like my normal invincibility, but like, y’know, that I could do anything and everything I put my mind to. Even the stuff that I’m super bad at. I know I’m not the smartest or wisest guy out there but you never hold that against me and when I meet something that I can’t overcome, you let me try until I ask for help. You never judge me or put me down. I feel so seen and loved around you. 

“And…well, it’s no secret my family is super important to me. You’ve fit right in with us in your own Nyx way. I know that if something ever happened to me, you’d be there to watch over them where I cannot. I named my first daughter after you ‘cause I don’t know anyone more strong and beautiful that I would want her to look up to. 

 ���So uh, what I’m trying to say is that I’ll always love you…And I promise, as long as I draw breath, to keep enriching you and making every day be filled with new, fun experiences when we are together.

“Why are you crying? Me? I’m not crying? I just got stuff in my eye! It was good though wasn’t it? Let’s stick with that version….C’mon, I’ll get you a kuponut.”

[marauding-almond]

hello

how has life been

(this is me tryna start a convo in a cool philosophical way & failing)

ik ur asleep rn im just... idk... yeah......

hello!!

Wow, what a cool philosophical way to start a conversation!!!!

Well I suppose life cannot really be described. At least not by simple word such as ‘good,’ or ‘average.’ Life is so many things at once. It is everything at once. It is good, it is bad. All that changes in how one person describes it to the next is their own perspective and the things they have experienced.

People have died. People have kept on living. I have kept on living. In recent times, my experience had been sharpened. The summer here has only just started, the sound of warm wind and buzzing bees in time with that of school bells and student clatter. The tomatoes still have not ripened, but I have matured into a new school year. The young ones look up to me now, and I am not sure if I want that. I’m scared I could lead them astray. But I will try my best. It’s the only thing anyone can do, really.

Because I the end, we will all die. All life will die. And the only things that would have mattered are the small things we did that made someone smile, or cry, and the soft sounds of summer.

You’re asleep too rn so um. sorry this was kinda long, I go carried away in the poetry.

How has your perspective on life been? How would your experience of recent events described?

[quigzahhutt]

um hey hi hello how are you doing on this fine day my dude (struggling how to type normally bc i JUST woke up from a nap and i should really be restrained from my phone)

so um i wanted to ask for a trick or treat if you wouldn't mind!

BUT i did also want to give you a little treat myself if i may :)

so when you reblogged and put in the tags that your favourite fic is 'please turn those headlights around' but it's your least popular and obviously i had to RUN to read it and i unfortunately cannot say anything remotely intelligent in my 'still in bed' state of mind but im literally sobbing while typing this. i fear you have made a lump in my throat that will never go away and every time i try and swallow i'll feel it as a constant reminder of sorts of the devastating beauty that is your writing. like everything abt it. as of rn it feels like its been FOREVER since the logan news dropped (its been like 2 months) but reading this made me go right back to that very day purely bc of how well you captured the emotions. and the way logan was feeling SO MUCH and you still managed to fit it in all there like what can't you do bro???? like ur literally so cool omg. and. and. and the way logan's mind looked so empty but at the same time so much was going on and just yeah like i cant really describe it properly but YEAH. and also first time switching, that's so scary but you still managed to subtly weave it so beautifully in this narrative with the little awkwardness and apprehension with alex, they were so raw and vulnerable and honest with eo emotionally and physically in this SOB im gonna start crying again. AND the way the sex in the smut bit, it like basically represented, it wasnt just sex, it was also like a little symbol of like his ability???? and his own attitudes towards things in his life (his racing)???? like how when it said smth like 'gathering more data to improve his performance, ensuring a chance at a better finish.' or how he gets 'one track minded'. it's just. alot. yeah. ur like so super duper smart bro. yeah this piece of writing is like fucking poetry man i was literally reading a poem please hang it in the louvre and everything. never die pls and thanks. BYE sorry that was so long SOB

i hope you have a lovely day/night 💕

oh my word, FIRST OF ALL. THANK YOU? this inspired me to go reread it and it reminded me just how proud I am of that fic so THANK YOU SO MUCH for all the kind words on it. it's to this day one of my favorite pieces of work I've done ever and it has always bummed me out that it's my second least popular fic bcuz it's very dear to me, so hearing you say all this is just like. very very validating THANK YOU!!

because you have been so kind, you get an extra long and extra sweet treat from the 3rd part of Outgoing call! (which I will hopefully have finished . Soon) :)

Once he finally drags himself from bed and freshens up, Logan is already giving him an amused smile from the couch, the same one he would always give Alex when he was doing something unabashedly stupid, a slip of the fine-tuned and smug identity that Logan so carefully constructed. “What,” Alex deadpans, rounding the corner and trudging his way to the kitchen, opening the fridge and staring at the flickering innards like it'll magically give him all the answers to life. “What, I don't get a good morning?” Logan snarks, and Alex can hear the suppressed laugh in his voice. Alex has to fight with himself to keep a neutral face as he turns around, mindful not to let all his sickly sweet feelings translate into his expression. “What, will you want a kiss, too?” Alex retorts, pouring himself a glass of orange juice (Florida grown, the bottle proudly declares), his joints still stiff and not quite awake yet. Logan falls unusually quiet. He had been the one to start this whole interaction, and yet now he's freezing up. Alex chances a look at him, and finds Logan chewing the silky insides of his bottom lip, his eyes trained intensely on the juice and the way it sluices around the glass as Alex takes a calculated sip. There's a flush on his cheeks, and he finally forces his eyes away once he notices how purposeful Alex is being.

ahhh again thank you so much it actually means the world to me to hear such kind words :((❤️

send me a trick or treat and I'll surprise you with a trick or a treat ;)

[poppinspops]

Let me love you; Lamina

Paring: Lamina x fem reader

Words: 13.4k

Summary: Lamina is trying to get you to freely love her without being afraid of what others think, set in District 7 before the hunger games

Warnings: internalized homophobia, emotionally abusive mother, ooc lamina cuz we didn't get to see or read much about her before the game's so I wrote her how I thought she might act so um... my bad, but I like confidentish lamina, and this is a more poetry kind of work, so be warned poetry.

You and your mother had another fight again for what seemed like the hundredth time because of your feelings for lamina your friend that’s a girl because you’re a girl as well and girls aren’t supposed to want to kiss or even marry other girls but you do. Which has only caused you and your mothers screaming matches to get worse.

You stared at your mother with as much disgust as you could at her rambling about how she could have birthed such a disgusting little girl before storming out of the house leaving your mother to run after you onto the porch of your wood house screaming for her ungrateful daughter to get back in that house at once but you didn’t. You kept walking down the dirt pathway that you knew so well towards the woods to just get away from everything.

You walked into the woods that you used to play in with lamina when you both where twelve years old and had a whole hell lot of free time to just be kids. You kept walking until you saw the familiar old tree that was thicker than the rest of them, the tree you used to climb to get away from everyone until lamina found it and would come and sit outside in the cold with you for hours until you felt better. You looked at it for a moment before starting to climb it, it took a minute as you wanted to get to the highest branch you could and sat on the tree branch looking at the scenery In front of you admiring how everything always looked better when you where sat in a tree.

Everything was so very quiet until you heard the crunching of a leaf and the snapping of twigs on the ground scaring you out of your staring almost making you lose balance on the thick branch you where sat on your head almost snapping down to see what was making the noises. You where quiet upset until you saw red hair that was almost styled in a victory roll immediately knowing just from the rose red hair that the person walking towards the tree you where sat in was lamina your friend since she asked for your name a few years ago.

Loved her for years even though I knew it was wrong, I’ve loved her with my entire being and soul.

Yes of course you knew logically and well according to your mother morally that these feelings you have for lamina was wrong and disgusting, and yes your mother has engraved that notion into your skull but you for the life of you, you just can’t help but think lamina was pretty. A pretty girl, a girl. But before you could think more about your horrid feelings for lamina you heard laminas voice yell your name.

“I knew I’d find you here.. you always did like the view from up here huh y/n?” She spoke or rather yelled as she stared up at you for a minute too long catching your eyes as you let out a small snort covering your mouth after making lamina smile a bit.

“yeah yeah just get up here lamina!” you said with a small smirk as you watched the lamina with a small smile cheeks a bit red from her staring. The girl walked up to the tree to climb up it and sit with you as she usually did on warm days like this. Lamina didn’t need to say anything as you already knew what she was doing instinctively you scooted over on the branch making room for her to sit next to you comfortably.

You watched as she climbed the tree with grace the sun hitting her just right making her red hair look like fire and her skin practically glowing in the sun making your heart ache in your chest and your face flush slightly as you looked away now diverting your gaze to your fingers that you’ve been picking at for years the skin torn on some parts, scabs on pieces of the torn skin.. your fingers so unbearably ugly to anyone who has seen them not hands that little girls your age should be looking like.

You hadn’t noticed that lamina had already sat beside you until you felt someone’s rough hand grab your own intertwining them together giving your hand a light squeeze, your eyes darted over to lamina as she gave you a soft smile bringing your hand up to her slightly chapped lips kissing the back of your hand making your cheeks warm and your lips tug upwards but soon your face fell remembering that you and her weren’t normal. You quickly pulled your hand away like her touch burned as you frowned forcing your gaze away from her as you spoke quickly.

“Lamina, we talked about this you know we can’t do this-“ Lamina cut you off mid rant as she rolled her eyes biting her bottom lip out of frustration why wouldn’t you just stop caring about what others thought and let her just love you freely without always pushing her away.

“Stop being scared of what others might think.. I was too but y/n we have something that people would bleed for something some are still looking for to this day! I need you to not be afraid to let me love you.. I would stand with you till the day I take my last breath.” Lamina proclaimed as she grabbed your hand again looking at you with such passion in her now glossy dark eyes as you just sat there stunned, you looked at her with wide eyes as she held onto your hands with tears that were threatening to spill down her rosy cheeks as she had almost pleaded with you to just stop hiding this relationship from everyone and love her freely without fear any signs of her previously smiling face was gone now replaced with a frown.

You finally mustered up the courage to look at lamina, looking into her dark eyes your face now a deep shade of red from how she spoke with such passion it made your head hurt from thinking so much as you opened your mouth but closed it again not knowing what to say to lamina, it always ended like this her pleading for you to not be scared and you running away like the coward you are that’s what you’ve always done haven’t you.. just running away from all your problems and who says you’d stop here.

You stared into laminas eyes noticing how you’ve torn this girl down to her core staring at you with so much emotion that it made you sick you wanted to tell her that you loved her too but you just couldn’t. In that moment all you could think of where your mothers harsh words, her screams of frustration of why you couldn’t just like boys like a normal girl does her cries as she prayed for God to fix her only daughter…

It was all becoming too much for you to handle your breathing became erratic, Lamina was staring at you with concern she was speaking but you couldn’t seem to hear her or anything. Lamina reached out for your face hands just barely grazing your cheek it all became just too much for you as you felt her fingertips against your now very hot skin.

“I’m sorry I just- I just can’t lamina I’m so sorry” You whispered under your breath as you leaned away from her eyes looking away down at the ground than back at her than again at the ground breathing heavy as you felt deep guilt for making lamina so sad all the time.. all you ever did was make her cry and chase after you but you truly couldn’t handle this right now.

So you ran away like you always did when things got too complicated.

You jumped off of the tree branch as quickly as you could scrapping your hands up as you landed on the floor but you just got back up and ran away like the coward you are as lamina watched you disappear into the dark forest. She let out a shaky sigh looking down at her hands, her bottom lip wobbling.

She knew she would wait till the end of time for you, no matter how many times you made her cry she couldn’t force herself to love another person even when you made her want to pull every strand of hair out of her head whilst simultaneously screaming at you for being so stubborn.

Even through everything her heart was yours and yours alone. Your all she wanted but couldn’t seem to catch. Lamina finally let herself cry.

Her sobs loud as she sat leant against the tree and just broken down from yet again failed attempt to get you to just allow her to love you, though she knew it was your mother’s fault that wretched women put things into your head making you feel like a freak for loving Lamina a girl instead of a boy.

The next day started out as the first one did for you, running away from your house into the woods as your mother screamed and ran after you until she enviable gave up at the porch again, cursing under her breath as she walked home.

You’d passed by Treech on your now jog to the woods you both gave a nod to each other as you jogged into the woods. You knew treech from working at your father’s lumber yard since Treech would come in and sell the wood he cut down a boy of few words but admirable still.

You had jogged back to your normal spot in the woods the big tree you’d climb everyday to cool off after a argument with your mother, but when you walked closer to the large tree you saw Lamina leaning against the tree.

You slowly walked towards the tree your eyes never left hers as you stopped in front of the tree she was sitting on. Nervousness from the events of yesterday were all coming back to you making, you want to run away once again from your feelings.

Once your eyes met Lamina's your heart started to thump in your chest from both anxiety and solicitude from the girl. Your palms started sweating as you stiffened under her gaze.

As you stared up at Lamina where she was sitting on that branch. The same branch you left her at. You tore your eyes away from the girl, you couldn’t bare the almost devastated look in her eyes. You always hated that look you now of days saw. Which of course was your fault. When was it not?

“Y/n?” Lamina spoke softly, her voice full of concern as she looked down at you. Shifting to the edge of the branch, ready to either climb down the branch or jump down. Whichever came first.

You felt frozen as you heard Lamina’s voice. You wanted to say something, but you felt your own throat tighten and your mouth felt dry. And it felt hard to breath for some reason. Time felt slow and too fast at the same time! As you stared.

Like you were on autopilot you turned you back on her to run off like the pathetic coward you are. Before you could even start to run, Lamina jumped down from the branch she sat on.

Lamina fell to the ground but quickly got up as she grabbed onto your hand to keep you from running away, a desperate expression on her face.

“Y/n, please. Don’t run away again.” Lamina almost pleaded as she stared at you with those eyes big puffy red eyes, making you gulp harshly before looking away from her intense gaze as she spoke again she sounded more confident when she spoke.

“Look y/n I have loved you since the day I met you at your father’s lumber yard when you where working the counter.. you where so pretty and I know you feel the same about me aswell, so why wont you be mine” Lamina almost sobbed out as she broke out into tears once again, her hand left your hand in favor of holding your face that was now a deep maroon color she let out a shaky breath through those chapped lips breath hitting your face as your noses almost touching from how close you both are now.

Your eyes flickered from her lips to her eyes.

“lamina I was always yours” You said so softly more like a whisper giving lamina a wobbly smile as you let yourself break down in front of lamina your silent sobs being seen as you left yourself rest in her hands the only things that were holding you up now closing your eyes as you did.

you never where a pretty crier, but it was alright as lamina wasn’t either.

It took a while for you two to stop sobbing, your tears had stopped after a few minutes but laminas tears where still there silently flowing down her pale cheeks. You opened your now puffy eyes to see laminas staring at you with adoration that was reserved for only you.

You placed your hands ontop of laminas that where holding your face so very delicately as your eyes once again flickered from her eyes to her chapped lips up to her eyes again and lamina did the same with a small smile on her face making you look away as a sudden wave of nervousness washed over you the minute you saw her smile.

“I love you y/n” lamina whispered and she only smiled more when she saw your face deepen a shad of red Shed never seen before.

You turned to face her again as you let yourself smile too before leaning closer to her noses now touching as you breathed out slowly “I love you too lamina” you breathed out as you leaned forward and gave her a small peck on the lips her lips where rough but that didn’t make that quick little peck any less great. You pulled away just as quick as you leaned in.

You stared at lamina seeing her shocked expression making you break out into a big smile. “I love you so dearly lamina” you whispered out as you leaned forward again kissing her again but lamina reacted quicker this time reciprocating the kiss, it wasn’t heated nor was it rushed it was slow but quick it was perfect.

Lamina pulled away first a smile blooming on her face that made your heart skip a beat. Lamina after a moment if silence leaned forward letting her four head rest against yours, you let out a small laugh at this feeling at peace with lamina here in the deep depths of the woods. It was just you and lamina just how it had always been, you and lamina.

“promise to marry me” You breathed out as you closed your eyes lamina let out a breathy laugh at that as she replied back soon after.

“promise” Lamina replied.

Okay, I wasn't expecting this to be so long. Sorry if lamina is WAY too ooc for your liking we didn't get to read/see much of her personality at all in the books and in the movie so I kinda just went off of a few scenes where she seemed more confident and less scared but tried to still keep the more scared lamina there I hope yall don't get too mad at me😭

[lilgayducky]

Lil introduction to me :)

Hi!! Call me Ducky, I'd prefer not to use my real name on here.

I write a lot, mostly I post poetry but sometimes I might post a short story or something else I've written.

I LOVE theatre, don't come at me for not knowing shows and showtunes... My fam don't have much money so my theatre experience is limited to our local theatre with smaller shows that they put on/often create themselves so I've only actually seen one mainstream show live - Matilda (it was amazing!! Loved it so much). I've been onstage before however performing, and am looking forwards to more opportunities to perform. I love acting and recently found out I'm not a horrible singer like I thought (not amazing but I got a solo soooo idk)... I've never really done much singing stuff before so like it was so weird but I LOVE it and I wanna maybe try getting singing lessons but they're so expensive so I'm not sure...

I do Girl Guides (Scouts for girls) and LOVE it. I volunteer at a younger Brownies unit (ages around 7-9) and I've been on some super cool experiences because of Girl Guiding. Even visiting Pax Lodge, one of the world homes.

I love art, writing, bugs, camping, creating, drama, and talking about stuff... Although I've been told I can be heavily opinionated and feel a need to defend everything I say like a lawyer... So um... Sorry bout that... I try to stay away from heavily opinionated topics for this reason... Feel free to ask me any questions and send me your writing/poetry as well. Keep in mind I am a minor so please no 18+ content or inappropriate stuff in general.

I'm interested in trying to collaborate on stories with people - if anyone starts writing part of a story it would be cool to add to it and create some shared story type of thing. Let me know if this is something you'd be interested in doing :)

I hope to make my blog a safe space for anyone and sorry if my appearances on here are very random, I am a student so my life can get VERY busy and I'm not always online so yeah... Luv y'all, take care!! <333

[bbitess]

roommates - chris kenton x reader

roommates‼️ just arrived at college and get roomed with a good looking and interesting guy.

warnings‼️ smut, oral f!receiving, p in v, alcohol, smoking, videos/nudes

i had just arrived at university and was looking for my room. me and chris met because we were the “odd ones out” in the dorms and got paired to a room together, it wasn’t that strange.

we got to talking and i automatically curse myself for finding him kind of attractive. he had silky brown hair and beautiful blue eyes. i couldn’t get carried away, he was my roomate.

as i unpacked my things it seemed natural, he had unpacked first, which also made me feel better for some reason. i observed his posters from festivals and bands, aswell as flyers for a couple parties, he was very intresting. i looked over and watched as he lazed on his bed, reading some poetry quietly.

i got the urge to converse with him, “chris, we might as well get to know eachother, like, if we are sleeping together- I MEAN, in the same room.” i laugh awkwardly. my stomach unties when he lets out a laugh too, “well, what do you want to know?” he asks, sitting up in his bed and running his hands through his hair, looking up at me with big eyes.

i slowly step towards him, “well, i don’t know, you have these flyers, do you party a lot? like i feel like i should know if we are roommates you know, be honest.” he laughs, “yeah, well, kind of, i don’t know how much partying i’m doing in college but me and my brother used to host parties at our parents house in high school.”

“oh i see…. i’m the same, i don’t know how much partying i’ll do here but i wouldn’t be surprised if i started, i used to a lot,” i explained. he nods, “well, what about drinking and drugs? like how do you feel about those?” i smiled, “i drink sometimes at parties and i smoke weed and sometimes nicotine, i feel like that’s acceptable, like could i smoke in here?”

he laughed, “yeah i don’t care, don’t get in trouble but like, if you have a cart, hit it all you want.” i smiled, he seemed perfect, interesting, social, and he smoked? “thanks, chris” i said before chris helped me hang up some posters. “is this good?” i asked, “no more to the left,” he said. “like this??” i asked, “no no, back more!!” he exclaimed.

i slept well and got ready nice and easy in the morning. classes didn’t start till monday. chris arrives in the afternoon, he has an early shift on the weekends, “hey!”

“what’s up chris” i asked. he walked in and set his things down, “well, i just heard about some sophomores who are having a party tonight to start the new semester!” i raised my eyebrows. “oh wow, that sounds cool, are you going to go?”

“well,” he pauses “i wouldn’t want to go alone… and i don’t know anyone there but maybe if someone else… i dont know, if someone else wanted to go-” he rambles but i cut him off, “well i’ll go with you, chris.” he smiles a big cheesy smile and i try not to blush.

i look at the clock and realize we have about three hours before we should start getting ready for the party, three hours is the perfect time to light up a blunt. i drag chris out of the dorm, bundled up in hoodies and scarves. we explored the new campus and got lost down a bike trail by a river. it was a beautiful day with a slight breeze and the leaves were orange and yellow all over.

as we walked down a smaller foot path, crossing the river and wandering around, i throw out, “just so you know, i have um, a joint and maybe even a lighter in this pocket…” “this pocket?” he points, “right here?” i nod and pull it out with the lighter.

chris looks shocked when he sees the blunt, he grabs the lighter and lights the joint in between my lips, the smoke entering my lungs makes me feel warmer already. chris takes it from my hand and also takes a puff, ribbons of smoke escaping his mouth. as we are smoking, i speak, “it’s so beautiful… and i don’t know the word…”

“intimate?” chris laughs as he takes the blunt. i giggle, “yes, definitely. makes you want to confess your secrets.” i think for a second about what i just said and looked at chris, only to see his icy blue eyes meet mine with a longing expression.

“i’m waiting…” i say quietly, chris smiles and looks towards the river, “well, i’d be lying if i said i didn’t find my new roommate very interesting and, in her own way, attractive.” he slowly peers back to me with a smirk and i am trying not to blush. “well, we have all been there chris.” i say patting his shoulder jokingly, he quickly goes behinds me, grasping my hips, and pretends to push me off the bridge. of course he doesn’t, he has me tight in his grasp, but i still let out a yelp and giggle as i push him off of me. we laugh and as we smoke, we both begin to walk closer together, bumping shoulders and giggling as we talked.

once we had turned around and were heading back to the dorms, i looked at chris, his skin shined in the dappled light under the yellow trees and his face looked warm. he looked back at me, our eyes locked for a moment. “i- um” he stutters, i didn’t know what he is going to say next but the eye contact intensified, he finally breaks the gaze and finishes, “i- we, need to go back to the dorm and get ready.” i look down and nod, walking back with him, disappointed how i hung on his every word…

“what should i wear?” i ask him as i look through my drawers. “you can just wear that, i’m wearing my clothes from earlier.” chris explains. “i don’t want to wear clothes like this…” i said. “you want to get dressed up?” he asked. “yes,” i replied. “why” he questions. “well, it’s my first real college party i want to look and feel good. and we can get pictures!” i exclaim, chris just laughs.

i hold up some options for chris and he helps me construct my outfit, when i come out of the bathroom with it on, he smiles and looks at me longingly from his bed. i even do a little spin to show him the finished product.

“wow, i like it” he says smiling, i go to do my makeup and when it’s completed he can’t stop looking at me. he thought i looked gorgeous and couldn’t believe i was going to a party, with him!

i snapped a few pics in the mirror, with and without chris, he even helped me think of poses with him in the mirror, he wrapped his arms around me and set his chin on my head. i can’t wait to post them later.

chris was kind of happy he had experience with parties before, because it would compensate for the fact he didn’t have much experience with girls, he tried… but overall decided staying in the background of the parties worked best for him. chris knew that at parties, anything could happen, and i look so pretty tonight, he would hate to see me get thrown to the sharks.

he was aware that i also didn’t know anyone at the party and he stood close to me as we walked through the crowd to the kitchen. i poured both of us a drink, chris gulped when he saw how much i poured.

i grab his hand and bring him to the couch, we sat together, his arm naturally drifts over my shoulder and i take some more pictures. it was strange, i hadn’t done anything like this in a while, let alone feel these kinds of emotions for a human. the alcohol made us both tipsy.

after a bit of time and completing the drinks, i got bored lazing on the couch and decided to explore the building, chris trailed close behind. i walked down winding hallways and even opened the doors to some rooms, i took more pictures, chris was a little confused but followed me, enjoying the company.

chris and i began talking and laughing, deep in the hallways and eventually, i saw someone start to walk down the hall, a flashlight gleaming in their hand, blaring though the dim hallway. “shit” i mutter, but quickly, i grab chris’s face and began kissing him to ward off the unwanted visitor. chris was confused but couldn’t help but melt into my liquor-flavored lips.

the flashlight pointed at us but left as quick as it came. when i pulled away from the kiss, chris was almost disappointed but as the situation registered, he was happy we got out of trouble.

“let’s find an exit” i said swiftly, a little embarrassed. we both walked back from the party awkwardly, it was cold and i didn’t wear a jacket so chris had to give me his, i don’t think he was super happy about it but i didn’t care.

we walked back to the dorm and when i got there i kicked off my shoes and fell on the bed, ready to sleep in the party clothes and makeup. “are you going to change?” chris asks, “no” i respond, my mind was flooding with questions about the kiss aswell, i knew it was sudden but it almost seemed like he enjoyed it…

“i think you should” chris says, i roll over on the bed and he is holding a makeup wipe and a wet towel, i looked up at his sullen expression and began to cry, my mascara streaking down my face.

“woah, what’s the matter?” he asked, suddenly sitting on the bed. “im sorry i kissed you…” i said as chris began to wipe my face clean. he smiles slightly, “it’s okay, don’t worry about it.” tears continued to stream down my face, i admitted, “i just didn’t want it to happen that way.” it’s not like i didn’t want to kiss him, but i didn’t want it to be me pushing myself onto him just to get us out of some trouble. “can we just forget that ever happened?” i mumbled. chris furrows his brow then his face softens. “on one condition…” i nodded curiously, “we get to retry.”

i didn’t know how to respond so i just grabbed his collar and pulled him down to reach my lips. finally the gap between us was closed. he carefully scales over me on the bed and kisses me deeper. his hands slide under my shirt, pulling it off before replacing his lips on mine. he kisses down my neck and slips my bra straps off my shoulders, my tits bouncing free. i moan and slip my fingers into his silky hair as his tongue swirls roughly around my nipples.

i pull of his polo and he begins to work off his pants. it all happens so quickly, he grabs my hips and pulls down my pants leaving me in a lacy red thong. he growls softly and moves them to the side, exposing my leaky cunt.

almost immediately i feel his mouth on me, i gasp and let out a pornographic moan, tugging on his hair as he eats me out. his tongue circles my clit making my quiver. i pull him back up to meet my lips, tasting myself on his tongue. “fuck, you taste amazing…” he mumbles into the kiss.

i grab his cock and stroke it for a few moments before lining him up with my entrance. he looks into my eyes and i nod. he pushes in slowly, bottoming out and letting my adjust, he was bigger than i had imagined.

he began thrusting in and out of my pussy, the sounds of our moans and sex echoing inside the dorm. i’m sure the neighbors heard us but i didn’t care. i yelled his name and began to feel close to my climax.

his head hung low, kissing my neck, his hair sprawled over my chest. i heard him began to breath heavier and felt is dick twitch inside of me. “cum with me, chris.” i said, looking deep into his blue eyes. he captured my lips in a hot and deep kiss, i felt him release inside me, his cum spurting out around his dick. i hit my peak and almost screamed, chris put his hand over my mouth quickly as he pumped into me a few more times, burying his seed deep inside.

as he pulls out he watches the cum bubble out of my swollen pussy. he kisses from my thighs to my shoulders, worshiping my body and whispering praises under his breath. i couldn’t take my eyes off of him, he was so beautiful.

he wraps his arms around me, his warm body spooning mine, skin to skin. i grab my cart and we smoke, confessing how we had been longing for each other. he kisses the pulse point on my neck, and we both fall asleep in each others arms.

the next week, while i’m in class, chris sends me a video of him jerking off in the dorm while i am gone, i can hear him softly moaning my name. i never know when his photos are coming.

[maxverstappensflatbrim]

Show Me Yours | Matty Healy [24]

chapter twenty-four, act three: so far (it's alright)

masterlist

February 27th 2015

Tommie sits at the bar of this random rooftop party, swirling her drink around in the glass. It’s just a coke, Caleb had mentioned in front of the bartender how she turned twenty one later on in the year, so now the guy refused to serve her anything of interest.

“I’ll have a gin and tonic, please.”

The guy behind the bar looks up at the new woman beside her and she smiles, “ID?”

“Oh, shoot, shoot, shoot. Seems I have forgotten it, um, I was here last week, you served me, remember?”

“No.” The guy says deadpan, “Kid, you look twelve, no ID, no drink.”

“You should try the coke, it’s divine.” Tommie says sarcastically to her.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s that accent?” The woman with bright hair asks.

“Welsh.” Tommie says, then gets ready for her usual speech. ‘England, London, you know, the Queen, Brits, yeah well the UK isn’t just one country, it’s three, well three and a bit, I guess. And no, I don’t live in a whale, Wales is a country-’

“Oh, cool, I’ve been there once, it was a total accident though. My drummer took a wrong turn and we ended up in some place called like Chepton or something.”

“Chepstow.”

She nods quickly, “Yeah, it was actually a cute, little town, you from near there?”

“Uh, not far, grew up like an hour out of Cardiff.”

“Cardiff’s your capital, right?”

She nods, “I’m Phoebe, by the way.”

“Tommie.”

“Nice to meet you.” She smiles, and purses her lips turning away to look around the party.

“You from LA? Visiting?”

Phoebe nods, “From here, yeah. Uh, this guy- do you know who's throwing the party, what was his name, Brad, Bret?”

She shrugs, “Some arsehole frat name like that, I’m not sure, my boyfriend dragged me here.”

She chuckles, “Mine too, well, the guys an old friend of his and he’s trying to get my music heard by pulling some strings apparently, Brad Bret, has friends high up in the industry.” Phoebe shrugs, “I don’t want to do it that way, I want to be founded, like in a dingy bar by a producer who’s right on the tipping point of their career, struggling with their partner, losing custody of their kids and I’m the big break that turns their life around again.”

Tommie smiles at that, “You have any music out?”

She nods, “Yeah, some stuff on youtube.”

“I’ll give it a listen.”

Phoebe's smile brightens a little bit and Tommie finds her own mirroring hers, “Sorry,” She apologies before speaking again, “You probably get this a lot, especially around here, and I feel like an inconsiderate asshole, but I just want you to know, I think you’re great.”

Tommie blushes slightly, “Thank you.”

“Honestly, your writing is just absolutely amazing. I mean your poem Trial Child, stuck with me for weeks.”

Tommie’s smile brightens just a little bit when she realises she’s recognised for her poetry and not her band.

“Thank you, it means a lot. I don't really get complimented on my writing often.”

“Really? Why not, it’s great. More than great.”

She thanks her again as they go back to people watching, “Which one’s your boyfriend?” Tommie asks.

She points to a blonde guy standing with a beer in hand across the bar, “He’s the one with sunglasses talking to the short guy with weird spiky hair. Where's yours?”

“The short guy with weird spiky hair.”

Phoebe laughs. The pair stick together the entire night, when Tommie goes for a smoke (around the back so Caleb won’t see) Phoebe goes with her, sharing her last three cigarettes as they talk music.

The door behind them opens and Tommie’s glad that Pheobes is holding the cigarette in her hand, “Hey, babe, you ready?”

She nods pushing herself up, “It was nice meeting you, Tommie.”

She smiles, “Text me next time you’re around.”

Phoebe nods, “I should say that to you, I live here.”

“Right, well, I’ll text you when I’m in LA again.”

Phoebe nods, “I await your message.”

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ

“Who was that girl you were with?” Caleb asks as he hangs his coat up.

Mitchell perks up from the dining room table as the door opens, “Hey.”

“Uh, Phoebe… didn't get her last name actually. She’s a singer, was really nice.”

“I recgonised her,” Caleb tells her, nodding to Mitchellvand then kicking at Shane’s foot to wake him up, “Think I’ve seen her perform before.”

“She any good? She gave me the vibe that she is. She was confident but not cocky, you know?”

Claeb shrugs, “Not for me, but she wasn’t bad.”

She nods watching as he pushes Shane towards his bedroom in the loft apartment. “Where’s James?”

“At his female’s apartment.”

Tommie’s nose curls as she walks over to the kitchen to grab herself a drink, “Wow, and you wonder why no ‘females’ want you.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

She stands kicking the fridge door shut and leans on the counter, looking through the small little open window that looks into the living/ dining area.

“Don’t call women females if you want them to even look at your dick.”

Caleb smirks to himself, moving to pick at some of the grapes in the fruit bowl, arms tugging her towards him.

“Bridgers.”

“What?”

“Phoebe Bridgers, I remember now, I know her boyfriend Marshall.”

She lifts her head in acknowledgement, “You guys in the studio tomorrow?”

He nods, thumbs rubbing across her hip bones, “Yeah, I was hoping you could come in and give some pointers.”

“Different genres,” She shakes her hand as if to dismiss the idea, “I won’t be any good with country rock.”

“Your voice would better suit country. You have like this,” He pulls a weird face to try and make an example, “This sort of high pitched twinge, at the end of long or high notes. Sometimes you control it,” He sees the look on her face and quickly shakes his head, “No, no, it’s good. It’s what gives you that edge, that special sound that is only you.”

She shakes her head and reaches into her pocket for her phone, “I’m gonna give her a call, see if she wants to meet up.”

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ

February 28th 2015

“Hey.” Phoebe grins, holding the door open for her, “Come on in.”

She looks around the little studio, watching as some people play around with instruments, “You recording? EP?”

“No,” She shakes her head picking up her acoustic guitar, “Got one song on a Lost Ark album.”

“What’s it called?” 

“Waiting Room, wrote it a while back, wanna hear?”

She nods and moves over to sit in the chair by the mix board, Phoebe leans over her to hit play and she lifts the big bulky headphones up over her head to listen.

Phoebe watches intently, sitting beside her as she watches her nod her head up and down, miming the lyrics a little.

Of course she knows who Tommie is. She’s not stupid, everyone’s heard of the 1975 in her band so it was only a matter of time. She just didn;t want to seem like a psycho fan going up to her yesterday.

“Can I make a suggestion?”

Phoebe nods quickly, “Of course, you’re the expert.”

Tommie brushes the comment off before asking, “Is this saved? I don’t want to change anything if you don’t like it.”

“It’s saved, three different copies.” She nods then moves forward.

“The drums, I think they should come in a little later instead of straight away,” Phoebe watches as she moves the mouse on the screen to remove the drum beat, instead of cutting it she delays it, “And you have a great voice, don’t hide it behind layers of instruments, make it the focus point.”

She pushes up the volume of Phoebe’s voice, pulling down the guitar and backing drums, “The guitar is great, did you write that?”

She nods quickly, “I did.”

“It’s amazing, how long have you been playing for?”

Phoebe shrugs, “Uh, I’m not sure, a long time.”

“Can I make another suggestion?” She nods again, gesturing to the board but Tommie turns to her instead, “Write more songs like this. Caleb said you’re in a band, Sloppy Jane?” Phoebe nods again, “I listened to some of their stuff, they’re good, but I think you’re better.”

Phoebe lifts her shoulders at that, “So what leave them?”

Tommie shrugs, “I’m not telling you to do that, but I do think you’d be better as a solo act, or at least with other singers that compliment you, not try to outshine you. You have a beautiful voice, don’t let it be silenced.”

“What if I told you the same? Told you to leave the band would you?”

Tommie thinks it over then shrugs her shoulders, “I’m not a solo act. I like being in the background, and by the way you’re performing in those youtube videos, you like being up front.”

Phoebe smiles, “Would it be cheeky if I asked you to record it with me?”

“This song?” She nods and Tommie sinks back into her chair, the confident producer persona she just had fading, “It’s your song, Phoebe-”

“Please?” She asks, “I won’t put it anywhere, just for us?”

“Okay.”

Tommie was in the studio with Phoebe for hours, after the first two hours where Phoebe spent their time teaching her the guitar tune, the band had left.

They played around with different instruments, isolated vocals, harmonised together perfectly until the sun went down and it was nearing one in the morning.

Tommie leans back in her chair with a successful grin and Phoebe leans over to hug her back into her chest.

“Thank you.”

“I had fun. Thank you.”

“Here,” Phoebe moves to download a copy onto one of the memory sticks before handing it over to her, “Who knows, maybe years in the future we’ll both be world class famous rockstars and they’ll dig this up from the archives.”

“Who knows.”

taglist

@thereisaplaceintheheart, @indierockgirrl, @sofaritsalrightt, @julezs-bl0g, @eaglestar31, @sophinthealpss, @noacfemcel, @if-my-heart-bleeds, @befrwime, @fallingforel, @sexorchocolateorpillowsorclouds, @3terna15unshin3, @1975sophie1975, @thesocraticjunkiewannabe

-let me know if you want to be added :)

[berrypass-de-murdler]

95. A Free Press Can Cost a Killing

Happy to say that Fletch has already made multiple book 2-3 designs! So have I but they will be kept secret for now

Unless you join my server/hj

DON'T READ THE EPISODES UNTIL YOU'VE FINISHED THE FIRST BOOK!!

Irratino is playing a Wii exercise game. I think? He’s kind of just doing the macarena in front of a TV. There’s a ring of the doorbell. Irratino’s doorbell plays ‘Fur Elise’ when rung.

IRRATINO: Um, uh… I’m kind of in a bad… outfit right now?

The doorbell rings again. Irratino looks at his ankle monitor and panics. 

IRRATINO: Just leave it at the door!

The doorbell turns into very violent knocking.

IRRATINO: ALL RIGHT ALL RIGHT JUST DON’T SHOOT!

He peers through a crack. 

LOGICO: Logico <3 IRRATINO: [happy scream]

Goat picks him up and wiggles him around.

IRRATINO: I thought you were in HOLLYWOOD! LOGICO: Alright alright SHHHH! Quiet. I’m here to get you out. IRRATINO: HUH?? But… Logico you can’t! I’m under house arrest! LOOK! LOGICO: … Just take it off then. IRRATINO: I can’t! If I try to undo it, it’ll send the police! LOGICO: Just slide it off then. IRRATINO: I can’t, it’s too tight! LOGICO: Just- IRRATINO: LOGICO

There’s a long, awkward scenario of Logico trying to get the monitor off.

LOGICO: Now, I’m going to grab hold as tight as I can and pull it off, HOLD STILL. IRRATINO: Nehhhhhhe, tickles! LOGICO: I didn’t even touch you, you idiot. Grab onto something - I’ll pull the leg out of the socket if I have to. IRRATINO: NO ONE AGREED TO THAT!!

There’s a pop, then a very loud scream. Now it’s off.

IRRATINO: Ah, thanks Logico! Come on let’s go let’s go let’s go!

They fly to Logico’s tiny crammed Hollywood apartment (They totally let Irratino on the plane without an ID). They dance like hell for two seconds. Then, they go to a newspaper company. Logico slams his little fists on the counter.

LOGICO: Midnight Movies is involved in a global conspiracy! IRRATINO: National. National conspiracy. IVORY: Yeah… uh… [khhhh] Sorry, but like… no. We need kinda evidence or something? Also it’s kinda cool you’re here because my assistant is dead. LOGICO: NO, APPLEGREEN?!?!?! IVORY: [snort] Uh, NO! Just some human.

I wonder who could have done it?

GAINSBORO: I write the newspaper! LOGICO: Hello Gainsboro. GAINSBORO: Ohhhh go away! 

Hack Blaxton is there, and though everyone knows his true identity, he still is trying to talk through the puppet. Having no mouth, he is a very good ventriloquist.

BLAXTON: I’m ready for my interviewwwww!

And finally, Champagne.

CHAMPAGNE: I’m here to see if I can unionize the workforce, and put them on the path to seizing the presses! LOGICO: Looks like we have ourselves a little murder. I couldn’t be happier to have you here, Irratino.

Goat Lord blushes and softens his cheeks. He’s such a good boi.

LOGICO: I already know Gainsboro wasn’t on the roof. GOAT: How? LOGICO: Because he can’t fly that well! GAINSBORO: [almost called him ‘Butterfly’] I… CAN… FLYYYYYYYY!! LOGICO: Right. Statements, people! CHAMPAGNE: Take it from me, a working man: I brought a- LOGICO: Everyone works, Champagne, get over your own head. NEXT! GAINSBORO: I have a Bookie, so take it from me.  A Marble bust was on the balcony. Aside from being spectacularly me, I’ve also taken up Poetry. INK: Babe-

This episode has a lot of pacing around a very bland building, which is so enticing to look at. Logico closes his eye, and hears Irratino’s voice in only his mind. It’s just so amazing to hear… 

Then he gets a text.

“Did you get my message?”

Irratino stares at him with a cheeky expression. Logico texts back.

“Yes I did, you little superstar.”

Irratino told him who did it!

It was… ivory. Guess it's not so cool Logico was there?

IVORY: It was all CHAMPAGNE-UH! He ‘radicalized’ the assistant editor! He was gonna make a UNION! So I fucking killed it.

Logico and Irratino leave, and head to a bar to sit and recollect.

LOGICO: How did you know that EXACT chain of events would happen to make me know Midnight Movies was in charge of the ruins? IRRATINO: Huh? No I didn’t. LOGICO: Then why did you send me to the magick shoppe? IRRATINO: So you’d learn to look inside yourself… and see the other side of the world. LOGICO: Why didn’t you tell me you were innocent? IRRATINO: I knew you’d never believe anything you didn’t deduce yourself… not even me. I-I felt horrible about faking my death without telling you, but there were cultists everywhere. And it was the only way I could shake them. The marot told me not to tell you. LOGICO: That is so, so, so impeccably stupid. IRRATINO: I know. I’m sorry. 

Tino looks down with genuine guilt. He looks so sad, helpless, and cute, even though he did something so wrong. And Logico has no choice but to forgive him. He kneads needs him. And he’s ‘beginning’ GL UZOO RM OLEV.

BLAXTON: THEY’RE TRYING TO BLACKMAIL ME BECAUSE THEY KNOW WHO I AM! LOGICO: Please… go fuck yourself.

The end!

Now irratino will consume logico as god intended. I'm so happy he's back!!

The power of Goat Lord compels you!

See you next time murdlers!

[suitov]

Nagito: Are you here to seduce me?

Makoto: I--!! Wh--?

Nagito: It was a simple question. Haven't they covered the interrogative in Japanese class yet?

Makoto: Th-that's NOT a simple question! (And I feel like there's a definite answer he wants to hear, too, but which is it?)

Nagito: Ah, so it's the junior year biology that hasn't covered--

Makoto: Nagito!!! I know what seducing is! I, I, I do it all the time! I've had seducts, I mean I've had... done that stuff, a ton of times!

Nagito: Oh my. So I'm in the presence of a Casanova.

Makoto: A what?

Nagito: A veritable god of love! My virtue is at risk if I don't keep up my rebuffs!

Makoto: Um... how did we get on this subject again?

Nagito: Well, you walked into my dorm.

Makoto: To return your book!

Nagito: My book?

Makoto: Yeah, this. You dropped it in the hall and I couldn't find you again.

Nagito: You brought... a book of love poetry... to my dorm room.

Makoto: Wait, it's what?!?

Nagito: You really are a smooth operator, Mr. Naegi.

Makoto: I didn't know! I swear! I was just bringing it back! I'm not that kind of guy to just show up and try to kiss you!

Nagito: Without even buying me a drink.

Makoto: That hadn't even crossed my mind until you started--

Nagito: Well, that's only to be expected.

Makoto: H-huh? (Isn't that the opposite of what he was just saying?!)

Nagito: I'm not the kind of guy who gets seduced! A Lothario like Mr. Naegi is surely dating at least five musical idols.

Makoto: ...

Makoto: Are you messing with me?

Nagito: Maybe.

Makoto: Why?!

Nagito: Hmm? Why are you so easy to mess with? You'd have to tell me.

Makoto: That's-- you-- I was really worried you thought I'd--!

Nagito: 😇

Makoto: Well! I can tell you one thing!

Nagito: I'm all agog.

Makoto: I'm keeping this book!

Nagito: Wait, huh?

Makoto: If you want it back, y-you'll have to come get it, so there!

Nagito: Oh, really?

Makoto: And, and you'll just have to figure out what I'll accept in exchange, so there!

Nagito: ...to stick your tongue out at me so passionately, you must really be serious.

Makoto: Yeah!!!

Nagito:

Makoto:

Makoto, edging back out of the doorway: bye

[sound of running footsteps, a minor crash, and more running]