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#what if i made a bag but the bag is good omens inspired
eliraillustre · 1 year
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"Look at you, you're gorgeous"
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plutoswritingplanet · 2 months
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Vicarious (Homelander x Female!Reader) pt.4
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a/n: a short conclusion for the last chapter, before i finish a more story-heavy one, deeply inspired by "Two Against One" by Jack White
Warnings: Masturbation (again, wow), Explicit Language, Alcohol Use, Very Creepy Behavior, Plus Sized Reader, Inappropriate Relations With A Marble Wall, Suggestive Themes
Summary: Both you and Homelander get increasingly confused about what you truly are. None come out unscathed.
Pt. 1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.5
The vulnerability of drunkenness looks good on you. 
At first, you're none the wiser. As your limbs uncurl from around Homelander, your feet hitting the polished floor of his penthouse. Stomach flipping around, you fight with all your strength not to fall to your knees, as the shock of being shot out through the air slowly subsides. Homelander starts pacing around the living area, an excitable spring in his steps, as he makes his way towards the rather well-stocked liquor cabinet. Were you more vigilant, perhaps you would've read this action for what it truly was, but as it stands, the realization is postponed for a few seconds more. 
Glasses clink somewhere behind you, but you're too focused on steadying your breathing to notice. Your vision is swimming, the blurred outline of a gigantic American flag, hanged on the wall in front of you, makes you want to jump out that stupid window. The repetitive pattern twists your brain around.
- Ugh... Jesus - you throw the offending piece of cloth a withering look.
- If you're going to be sick, do it in the bathroom - Homelander barks, keeping himself out of your field of vision. 
- I'll be fine, don't wo... - okay, you cut yourself off because maybe you're not fine after all. 
A second passes, as you try to identify, if the feeling inside your chest is an omen of oncoming vomit. 
No, it's good, you're okay. 
Your eyelids are so incredibly heavy, it almost feels like your lashes are tangling together every time you blink, trying to force your eyes to stay closed. There's this strange taste in your mouth, a ghost of drinks past, mixed with some other, much more worrying substances you've enthusiastically consumed, and you smack your tongue against your pallet, running it over your teeth, as if to test if they're all set in place. Adrenaline gathers at the tips of your fingertips, and you shake your hands with a frown, fighting to rid yourself of this energy. Instead of helping, it only serves to make your stomach churn harder.
Traumatic experiences, such as being flown through the air at ungodly speed, should technically sober you up, but right now you feel like you've been funneling alcohol through a tube the entire night. Not entirely untrue, but you've never been a lightweight, so this sudden change of pace surprises and worries you. And there's one more thing. As your hands flail at your sides, checking your bearings, a sudden wave of realization hits you like a truck. 
Your bag. You forgot your bag at the party, and as such, your phone is lost too. Which wouldn't be so bad, if you didn't have the combination for the door of your room in the Tower saved in the notes. Your head starts to hurt, eyes closing shut, as you try to will the numbers into your brain. They were funny, you made them into a joke, you just don't remember which one. 
- Fuck... - you sigh, scratching at the back of your neck, where your sweat is rapidly cooling in the conditioned air of the penthouse. 
Which was it? Four numbers, significant ones. You chuckled to yourself when you first typed them into the lock, but it's so hard to focus on anything other than staying upright.
- You okay there? - Homelander asks, and suddenly you're reminded that he's still here, with you.
Alone. 
It's not dread that climbs up your spine at the realization, not excitement either. What you feel, clawing its way through your insides like a feral beast, is a profound sense of acceptance. Blue and red invade your vision, as he moves to stand in front of you, pushing a chilled glass filled with amber liquid into your hand. On instinct, your fingers curl around it, but you can't seem to raise it to your lips, wondering, if this move will signal your defeat. His chest rises and falls evenly, as he stands so close to you, you can practically feel the heat coming off of him, along with that rich cologne, that surrounds you from every angle. 
There's a geometric pattern all over the blue parts of his costume, and your eyes fight against its movements in front of you. The padding on his chest and stomach is truly ridiculous, even in your sorry state you can realize the unnatural movements of his fake muscles over his skin. Really, you can't be the only person that's noticed this. 
- I forgot my phone from the party - your voice is so quiet, weak, and you can't seem to pinpoint, if it's Smirnoff's or Fireball's - I don't...
- I know - he interrupts you, inclining his head as if he's trying to entice you to look at him - You left it on a chair in the kitchen. 
You don't give yourself the luxury of confusion, because you should've known. You should've figured it out, the moment he fell from the sky, catching the vulnerability of the moment, and crushing it in his teeth. Of course, he was looking, listening in as well, most likely. Wouldn't be the first time, would it? Who else would've known to leak the contract information, mere hours after you've complained to your friend over the phone, by an open window no less? There's no allowance of betrayal for you, you knew from the start, and yet you've allowed yourself to be put in this situation. You placed your own hand into the maw of the lion, and now you're supposed to expect him not to snap his teeth?
 His hand comes up into your field of vision, those red, leather gloves creaking, as they wrap around your fingers holding the glass. You don't resist, when he guides your hand up, towards your lips, tips the glass against them, until the bitter liquid pours into your mouth, past your teeth. 
- Very good - he murmurs with a patronizing tone, watching your throat work, as you swallow around the burning sensation - Take it all in, champ.
And you do. You down the drink, until there's nothing left. His hand retreats, and your fingers relax, letting the glass fall onto the plush carpet. You need to lock Smirnoff, stuff her back into that box, hidden from sight, before anything progresses. But she just won't let go. She claws her way into your brain, screaming at you to do something, anything, before it's too late. 
This isn't you. You're not here. 
The familiar mantra falls short, as Homelander slowly starts to take off his gloves, one finger at a time. His hands are strong, pale, with slender fingers, that curl and uncurl around air, as if testing the tendons working under his skin. Your eyes glide over the movements, heart stopping for just a moment, when he holds out his right hand in front of your chest, just shy of touching. Wetting your lips with your tongue, you watch, as his fingers tremble with tension. He wants you to feel it, the anticipation of the inevitable. He wants you to break, he's only ever wanted a reaction out of you.
- Please, I don't... - your voice cracks like a window. 
You don't what? Want it? You're convinced there are no words in the world, that would stop him right now, and the muscles in your face twitch. The American flag behind his shoulder stares at you, the stripes suddenly becoming a flurry of motion, as he pushes his hand against your chest. You don't fight it, letting him guide you all the way across the room, until your back reaches the wall, slamming into it with a dull thud. Despite that, the unrelenting force behind his movements makes you acutely aware of his true strength, the sheer lack of humanity inside this man in front of you. 
As soon as you're pressed against the wall, Homelander lurches forwards, his arms encircling your form completely, his face diving into the juncture between your neck and shoulder. Your entire body sways in place, as he takes a long, shuddering breath, his palms mapping the softness of your flesh under the flimsy t-shirt. Cotton tears under his ministrations, and cold air hits your back, your sides. A deep, low hum reverberated through his chest, as he exhales, immediately sucking in another breath through gritted teeth. 
- You... - he huffs, his exposed hands fitting themselves under the tears in your shirt - I've never known something so cheap could smell so good.  
There's a jolt of something, running through his body, as his hips press into you with barely restrained force. He'd fit nicely between your pliable thighs, but not now, not ever. The hardness digging into your stomach finally solidifies, what you dreaded would come.
- We can't - you don't recognize your voice. 
This isn't you. You're not here. 
But Fireball is not here either, so what is this third, strange person, who raises their hands and pushes against his chest, against the metal eagles on his shoulders? The flag still watches you struggle, those impassive stars mocking you at every turn. Truly, the American Dream come true, being humped like a dog by the strongest, most Yankee Doodle Dandy superhero to ever exist. This is exactly, what your parents were chasing, when they moved to the States, searching for a better future for their soon-to-be-born little girl. Will he stick a flag pole in your cunt, and sing the fucking National Anthem, after he's done using you? The thought almost makes you laugh, makes you remember the combination to your room, but all dark amusement flies out the still open window, because suddenly, his arms straighten out. 
He pins you to the wall, pulling back all the way, so he can stare at you with those cold, dead eyes, full of freedom for his own, heinous actions, and none left for you. There's tension in his face, as his lips press together into a condescending, tight smile, and his fingers flex on your shoulders, testing the durability of the stitches of your t-shirt once again. 
- Can't? - there's a tilt to his voice, a barely contained sliver of anger seeping through his teeth - I'm the fucking Homelander. I can do whatever I want. 
Ah, so that's what you're dealing with.
 The box rattles, the lock you've so carefully placed upon it bursting open like a cracked egg. And as Smirnoff takes her rightful place, scraping both Fireball and that elusive third thing from the surface of your brain, you look up at Homelander with utter understanding. What stands in front of you, is not a symbol of hope and peace. You're looking at a spoiled, invincible brat, who's never had to work for anything in his life. 
This is you. You're here. And you're so fucking disappointed.
Once again, you shape-shift right in front of his eyes, and with a shuddered breath Homelander realizes, that finally, he's looking at the real you. Not the bored, wreck of a human being he's met weeks ago, not the corporate product Stillwell has carved out of you, but a secret, third thing. An intoxicating cocktail of your true, hidden feelings floats to the surface, from underneath layers upon layers of masks, and he wishes to tear every single one, if it means you'll keep looking at him like that. Like you know him, like you can see behind the curtain of his performance, just as he sees behind yours. It's been such a long time, since someone made this discovery, and remained impassive.
When he thinks about it, this is the first time, he's met with such levelled response. And, fuck, the thought is better than drugs. The ghost of your scent tickles his nostrils, and he wonders what would stick to his tongue, should he taste you right now. Not fear, not desire, definitely not admiration. The expression you're wearing is eerily familiar, but so strange at the same time. Stitches at your shoulders tear under his fingertips, when he squeezes harder, hoping to extract the answer from your skin, from the softness of your flesh, the caverns of your bones. 
You don't even give him the luxury of a flinch.
- Just because you can, doesn't mean you should.
Who said those words, you're both unsure, but they shoot through him like thousands of spikes, drilling themselves under his impenetrable skin with ease. He blinks, and finally realizes the familiarity of your gaze. He's seen it, back in that lab, back home. Disappointment. And with that realization comes a myriad of familiar feelings, of patterns he's been continuing over, and over again, like a compulsion he's unable to rid himself of. The need to be feared, respected, loved, it all mixes with one more, treacherous thing. Make it right, make it better. 
Slowly, his fingers uncurl from around your shoulders, the t-shirt hanging onto your frame on a couple of strings alone. Surely, he'll regret this sooner, rather than later, but for now, he lets you go. Homelander takes a step back, his eyes unfocused behind a dazed cloud, as he regards you with scrunched eyebrows. It's evident, by the way his breathing quickens, the way his movements are tense, still ready to pounce. The desire to tear, to get what he wants is strong as ever, and the darkness in his eyes should be terrifying. Would be terrifying, if you were anyone, but yourself. 
And still, there's nothing. Your hearbeat is steady, your breathing even, your blood lacks any familiar chemicals, which would indicate your dishevelled state. It's as if you're looking at his through the windows of a passing bus, like he's a fucking traffic sign stuck into concrete. Insignificant, a piece of the landscape no one thinks twice about. But then, before he has the chance to get offended, you shift again, knocking him off his rythm once more. 
When did your eyes start to sparkle like that, he's none the wiser, but he drinks up the sight like a man parched, his mouth opening just a little, tasting the air of you on his tongue. The ghost of a smile on your lips might as well be a trick of the light, but he wants to believe otherwise, and as you take a step closer to him, pushing yourself off the wall, his heart stops for a millisecond. 
- Thank you - you whisper, your breath hanging in the space between the two of you - For saving me.
He blinks. And then, you're gone, leaving his penthouse like nothing has happened, like this is exactly how the night was supposed to end. The click of the door behind you sounds so distant to his ears, as if he's being held under water, and he's left standing rigid, staring at the empty space on the wall, where your body pressed into just seconds ago. A myriad of emotions swirls within him, one darker than the other, and as if pushed by some invisible force, he approaches the wall, closing his eyes with a shudder. Images of you, your body, the softness underneath his fingertips, flood his mind, and one question still fights for an answer in his mind. He needs to know, needs to feel something, lest he follows right behind you and forces the solution right out of your lips. 
Your scent lingers long after you've left, and with the concentration of a mad scientist, he places his cheek against the cold marble, where your shoulder was mounted. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back, and with a groan of unresolved tension, Homelander lets his tongue slip from between his teeth, laying flat on the polished surface. He licks a long stripe across, from one imaginary shoulder to the other, and can almost feel the ghost of you under each taste bud. 
Why did he let you go? What sort of a spell did you put on him, that he let you slip past his fingers, while he's still here, burning up with need? 
His hand tugs at the belt buckle, until it snaps off completely, clattering to the floor. Saliva smears down the surface of the wall, as he yanks down the lower part of his suit, immediately starting to hump his hand like a wild animal, mind clouded with what he wants, but can't seem to take. The marble wall steals the boiling heat right out of his body, and he presses harder against the unrelenting surface, fucking into his hand with reckless abandon. Words leave his lips in a messy jumble, nonsensical and broken. His eyes sting under his eyelids, and as he feels his peak come closer and closer, the heat inside his head becomes unbearable. 
With a frustrated, wanton growl, he comes hard all over the wall, his eyes snapping open, letting the deadly light out in full force. It collides with the marble, burning into it with ease for just a second, before he blinks it away, his body shaking from the intensity of his release. Pieces of rubble fall to the ground at his feet, dust covering the red leather of his boots. He's outgrown shame a long time ago, and with lips pursed in deep thought, he examines the demage he's done while lost in the moment. Placing his forehead right at the edge of the hole in the wall, he gathers his release on the tips of his fingers, pressing it further into the cracks in the marble.
This might be a bit harder to explain in the morning, he thinks to himslef with a huff of laughter. But, out of all the things he could've done, he guesses Stillwell would be happier to call for a renovation team, than have to explain to the higher-ups, and later the world, what happened to that bright-eyed Sidekick of his. 
A small mercy. A present, if you will, for both you and her. He shakes his head, finally stepping away from the destroyed wall. After all, it wasn't any spell, any sort of influence that made him let you flee back to the supposed safety of your room. It was his benevolence.
 Of course. He's the hero after all.  
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enaelyork · 5 months
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Hey girlie! I got a Coop request for you!!!
May I please please have a Ghoul x fem reader where Cooper gets badly wounded in a gunfight (or maybe a deathclaw encounter? Whatever takes your fancy lol) and she's gotta take care of him, despite his protests?
Thank you luv uuuuuu xoxox
Hey sweetie !!
Thx you so much for this request ! I like the idea, so, let's go.
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Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x Reader/ No Restriction/ A little piece of tension/ English is not my first langage.
My ask for Cooper Howard is OPEN
He hadn't come back.
Several hours had passed since he decided to go alone to the other side of the valley. Night slowly began to bathe the sky and a touch of bitterness pierced my abdomen. Obviously, I let him go, he gave me no choice. We don't negotiate with Cooper. It's always take it or leave it, and when I said that his idea was bad he made me understand by force that nothing would make him change his mind about the need to search the building. But he hadn't killed me. Because I understood, during these long days walking alongside him, that he needs me as much as he is useful to me. Something is literally stopping him from killing me with every passing second, and that gives me some leeway in how I respond to him. So obviously, I allowed myself some liberties when he asked me to be quiet, for example, by reminding him that I had no orders to receive.
But it was a bad idea.
When I heard Dogmeat's distant barking, at first I thought I was wrong to think so. That they were finally back and that I was going to have to admit my mistake. But when his lone figure finally appeared in my field of vision, then I understood the gravity of the situation. Dogmeat had returned without him. He was barking because he needed help.
Or even worse.
My heart jumped in my chest without being able to explain it to myself. I didn't have time to think about what the idea that he might not have survived provoked in me. Grabbing the backpack at arm's length, I slid down the sandy slope to meet Dogmeat and all the bad omens he brought with him. I followed each of these steps in an interminable wait where my fears and my desire to finish him off if he was not already dead jostled.
Then I saw it.
Not him. But the monster lying on the ground, not far from where he was going. His corpse was still warm and his blood soaked the surrounding sand.
A deathclaw.
I recognized this species by its terrifying skull and sharp claws. It was worse than looters, worse than anything I could imagine. There was no longer any doubt about...
-Cooper?
Dogmeat barked inside the ruined building, drawing my attention to the still-intact corridor that someone seemed to have rushed into.
- Oh no.
The words died at the end of my lips when I discovered him there, lying on the ground. I thought he was dead for a moment before I noticed his wheezing. It wasn't good, not good at all and quickly I threw myself on top of him, gently tilting him onto his back.
He breathes. Wrong. But he breathes.
- I said it was a bad idea.
He didn't have the strength to do anything to me anyway, so I might as well take this opportunity to remind him that he was wrong this time.
- Leave me here.
- That's a bad idea too.
I had to act quickly if I didn't want to lose him. And I refused to let that happen. So, without even listening to his protests, I grabbed the inhaler from the bottom of the bag and presented it to his lips.
-Inspired. I said coldly. And you better do it if you don't want me to shove that thing in your mouth.
He no longer had the strength to protest, which made the situation profoundly dramatic. The animal had scratched his side heavily and, without his care equipment, it would not have taken very long for him to stay there.
When I finally felt his deep breath, I understood that I had won the first round.
- I'll carry you to this room and we'll see what we can do, okay?
- No way. His voice was shaky, hesitant, not very credible. So I didn't pay any attention to him, or even to the way he tried to push me away. Without success. It was pathetic to be there: on the verge of death, but too proud to ask to be let out.
- I have to see.
- No.
Unceremoniously, I cleared a bench of the few utensils that occupied it to place Cooper there, too weak to move, he wanted to stand up and lean his back against the wall. There was such determination in the look he gave me that I struggled to maintain control.
- I'm afraid that's not a question.
I looked down at his chest, the idea that I was going to have to remove some of his clothes making my hands numb with impatience and anxiety. A particular mixture that I had never had the opportunity to feel and not only due to the idea of ​​discovering his injury.
There was something in his irises, still burning despite his weakness: fear? Anger ? Something else ?
My fingers had delicately slipped over his jacket, seeing no resistance on the horizon, I helped him get out before noticing the damage. It wasn't pretty. Not pretty at all, but treatable with a lot of resources.
- I have excellent news. You are not going to die today. I only had a loud breath in response, his head fell against the wall while I worked with the bag to find the survival kit.
- What don't you understand? His hollow voice attracted my attention, I waited for the rest of his sentence which did not come. Perhaps he wanted to know why I was trying so hard to keep him alive when he had repeatedly tried to kill me.
- I wouldn't get there without you. I said, grabbing the treatment equipment. And you have to go there too, don’t you?
Why was I talking to him that way? What was this hint of heat radiating down my throat? The band I was trying to wrap around his bust went around it several times before I cut it and fixed it for good. For the rest, he would have to be conciliatory. I was captivated by what I was doing, too much to notice the eagerness with which he grabbed my hand.
But nothing came out of his mouth. Nor mine. We both stayed there, the silence that hovered around us took on a stormy air. I was way too close to him. He too, moreover, was approaching me very dangerously.
My hands struggled to accept the idea of ​​no longer touching him, constantly trying to check if the tape was placed correctly, but when his hand grabbed my wrist, this time, the trend was reversed. It was he who hesitated. He was hesitant to push me away or to pull me towards him. This is what was happening. It was incredibly violent, deliciously violent.
- I'll stay up tonight. I finally said before things got out of hand. Dogmeat will watch you while I prepare something to continue the treatment.
I healed his body while he destroyed my mind.
This is what I was reduced to, trembling, on the forecourt of a ruined building trying to control what was happening inside me. He had refused my help before finally keeping my hand close to him. And, now that I knew he was out of danger, I didn't know if the joy that arose in the depths of my soul was solely due to this idea.
- Janey…
His voice had emerged from the dark night and caught my attention. Worried at first, then reassured to see him sound asleep, the spectacle he offered me tightened my heart. His voice rang out again, weakly proclaiming that name.
A host of questions came to mind, but the evidence was there, in the hollow of this curious moment. He had a heart, and it beat for this person.
So yes, he had to survive, whatever the cost.
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Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Inspired Christmas Wishlist
I've been watching a lot of Christmas gift guides recently so I thought I'll make one for the Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Fandom! I will add why I have some of the items on my list but feel free to use your own reasonings!
Captain America Shield lego set - Phil Coulson being a Captain America fanboy is something that the fandom still holds up even if the show strayed away from that characterization. Coulson would totally have this displayed in his office.
Golden cross necklace - Hopefully this one's not a doom omen.
Hair chalk - Daisy Johnson changes her hair style and coloring every season, and I'm one of those people who want to look like her without making a commitment to permanent changes.
Daisy hair clip - Of course Daisy changing her name to her birth one is an important part of her character.
Telescope - Biochemist Jemma Simmons has several.
Astronomy books - Or any biology book really. Science is an important factor on the show, and astronomy/space is something FitzSimmons often discuss.
Renegades book trilogy - This trilogy is VERY Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. energy, and I won't stop recommending it! Currently on the second book, but the first one is so good!
Doctor Who full series - because we know FitzSimmons are fans, and I think they make several references in show? I don't know, but the majority of S.H.I.E.L.D. fans I know are also Doctor Who fans.
Leather jacket - Get it in black. There are also cosplay ones designed to look like the ones on the show that are great if you can afford them.
Ghost Rider chase lego set - This set's Ghost Rider has Robbie Reye's charger instead of Johnny Blaze's motorcycle.
Fingerless gloves - Something Daisy Johnson or Robbie Reyes would wear.
Monkey jellycat - So maybe Fitz might not be able to get a really monkey, but this one is the best monkey stuffed animal I could find.
Secret Warriors comics - Remember to post long essay comparisons about what they changed for the show.
Gym bag/Gym equipment - You can get a gym bag with the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo on it on Redbubble. Fight like Daisy Johnson!
Redbubble stickers - Support independent artists (post made by an independent artist) <3
Tahiti postcards - It's a magical place.
Red convertible hot wheel - Don't touch Lola.
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sisididis · 1 year
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Day 2 of @hetaberia-week
Prompt: Summer 
Antonio and João’s friendship is in danger. 
Or at least Antonio thinks it is. 
After their accidental kiss on the football field, which João had shrugged off as Antonio being Antonio, the Spaniard knew that he had to make it up to his childhood best friend. How? By kissing him a second time in the pitch-black parking lot of a drive-in theater. 
Inspired by this adorable animation.
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧ ──────────────────‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧
“What movie did you say that they were rolling tonight,” João asked ten minutes into their uncharacteristically quiet drive to the neighborhood theater, which was a shy distance from Antonio’s childhood home.
July 1st was a summer night like any other in that it made the young restless and the old reminiscent of their olden days. Everything felt suspended in time, and as far as Antonio was concerned, summer break was nothing but an infinite stretch of heat and cricket song.
Except for the humming of the convertible’s wheels and the wind whipping wildly at their hair, the boys sat in stilled silence – João, bored in the passenger seat, and Antonio, lost in thoughts that seemed to evaporate at the older boy’s question. 
“Casablanca,” Antonio chirped cheerfully, and chanced a glance at João to gauge his reaction. 
It was an old crowd pleaser that habitually attracted dozens of couples after sunset. Under the cover of darkness, boys and girls became braver, and their hands and mouths more curious. Sure, there was always a slight chance that the warden would shine a flashlight into your car and tap on your window to leave, but right now there were worse scenarios tugging at Antonio’s mind. Like him losing his best friend over an accidental kiss.
“Hm,” João hummed, content with Antonio’s answer, as if he had picked the movie himself. 
Antonio exhaled softly. 
He took that as a good omen for the rest of the night and began to slow down as the entrance to the drive-in theater came into view. A split second later, they spotted the queue to the ticket booth and gulped, taking in its length. 
“You’d think that they were giving out free tickets,” João whistled, and Antonio nodded in agreement, clutching the wheel tighter. 
It took all his strength not to hit his head against it. 
In the week that followed their kiss on the football field, Antonio sensed that something profound had shifted between them. Unlike before, he found himself torn between craving and dreading João’s company. His chest felt tight with nerves, and something else that he did not dare voice.
He’d decided that it would be best if he kept his distance from João until he made sense of the war waging within, but the older boy was quick to catch onto that. He’d wasted no time in assuring Antonio that the kiss had meant nothing to him, and that he’d shrugged it off as Antonio being Antonio. But knowing João as he did, Antonio could tell that he didn’t believe that. Neither of them did. 
In a desperate bid to save their friendship, Antonio suggested that they paid the old drive-in theater a visit. 
“Finally!” João sighed. “We’re getting close.”
And a visit they paid.
After moving up the queue with a slowness that put their Iberian patience to the test, Antonio stationed in front of the ticket booth just long enough to pay for two (he had rolled his window shut just in time to avoid João’s insistent bills) then drove to the refreshment stand, where he ordered a bag of popcorn twice the size of his head and two cans of soda. 
As they made their way to their parking space, the Spaniard silently pitied the person who had to pick up all the empty popcorn bags strewn around the parking lot.
“The movie is about to start,” the warden announced, and darkness fell all around them. From the corner of his eye, Antonio noticed how the projector’s beam illuminated the top of João’s dark hair. 
I want to kiss him, he thought, then promptly tucked his hands under him, horrified at how easily the thought crossed his mind. 
He’s your friend, he scolded. 
Your friend. 
He continued to fidget in his seat while João remained seemingly oblivious to his discomfort, pouring all his attention elsewhere. 
“Where were you last night, Rick?”
“That was so long ago, I don’t remember,” drawled the protagonist.
“What a fool I was to fall for a man like you!” Annia cried, and Antonio realized that João and him were almost shoulder to shoulder now. He did not remember his convertible to be so cramped before. His heart hammered in his chest and he wet his lips for the tenth consecutive time. Loudly. 
That tore João’s attention away from the movie, and as he turned to him, there was a touch of a smile in his eyes.
“Just drink already if you’re that thirsty,” he said and handed Antonio his drink.
The drink was cold and tasty, but fizzy. Antonio’s nerves were fizzy, too, bubbling and surging up, up, up, before he forced them back down. He tried to swallow, but the lump lodged in his throat was more stubborn than him. And that said something. 
From above, the voices of the characters rang out again, dripping with sarcasm. 
“Rick is completely neutral about everything, and that takes in the field of women, too!” 
The crowd laughed.
Perhaps a bit of butter could make his throat work again, he thought. A heartbeat later, Antonio reached blindly inside the popcorn bag propped up next to João, and inhaled sharply when he felt something warm against his fingers. 
He froze.
Oh my god. 
That’s his hand, he thought. 
Despite himself, goosebumps sprang on his skin. He was torn. If he drew his hand back suddenly, then that would arouse João’s suspicion, but if he pretended to be absorbed in the movie long enough to let his hand linger on João’s, then…
What to do, what to do?
Sweat began to bead at his temples. 
“Is that cannon fire,” Ilsa whispered against Rick’s embrace, “or is it my heart pounding?” 
Seemingly confused at Antonio’s immobile hand, João turned to look at him.
And green met green. 
Although it was dark, Antonio recognized the startled look on his friend’s face, the blush dusting his cheeks. An unspoken question flickered in João’s eyes. And an unspoken answer flickered in Antonio’s. 
I love you, I love you, I love you, Antonio wanted to yell, but no words passed between them. 
He could see João’s pulse quicken just above his Adam’s apple, and he knew that his did the same. As João began to lean closer, Antonio closed his eyes. His heart was rabbiting wildly in his chest, wanting nowhere but out and inside João. He could feel the older boy's warm breath on his face, almost feel his soft lips on his—!
“Booh!”
Then both of them jumped like two cats drenched in cold water, sending the popcorn bag between them flying and landing on João’s lap.
“You should be ashamed of yourselves,” someone shouted.
Antonio’s face suddenly flushed red, and he swiveled around to face the anger of the movie watchers, who must have surely seen them. 
“We want our money back!” 
A chorus of approval soon joined the clamor. 
As the red faded from Antonio’s face, it dawned on him that the crowd’s anger wasn’t directed at them, but at the newly-blank projection screen. He’d forgotten that the older movies would cut right in the middle sometimes, and by the looks of it, João had forgotten it, too. 
After a tense minute of waiting, during which neither João nor Antonio dared to breathe, the projectionist got the movie working again and the whole parking lot exhaled with relief. 
“Madre mía,” Antonio whispered and João echoed his sentiment.    
For the remainder of the movie, neither of them spoke or looked at each other. Instead, under the protection of darkness, Antonio cradled his hand that burned with João’s touch, while João licked his unkissed lips in consolation.    
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧ ──────────────────‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧
After what felt like an eternity, after the crowd had clapped their approval, dried their tears and  started their engines, Antonio finally turned to João and searched his face. He’d expected to see a disappointed João in the passenger seat. Instead, the older boy looked relieved. 
He puffed out a laugh.
“Thank god that’s over with!” 
Antonio frowned. That wasn’t the reaction that he had hoped for. He chewed the inside of his mouth and looked away, but João was quick to notice and touched his shoulder. 
“It wasn’t all bad,” he lied. “I liked the movie.”
You didn’t even watch half of it, Antonio would have retorted had his throat worked. They fell into an uneasy silence.
I want to go home, Antonio thought. He didn’t know how so many things could go wrong at the same time. Before he could continue that thought, João’s voice brought him back to the now empty, street-lamp lit parking lot. 
“What’s that shining in the back?" he asked.  
Antonio followed with his eyes the direction to which João pointed. From a distance, it looked like a man standing behind a ticket booth. As they drew closer and closer, the fortune teller inside the box belted out: 
“Come let Zoltar tell you more!” 
Antonio wondered if the machine was an old carnival attraction that the warden refused to part with. That’s why he must have hid it in the back, he thought, then broke the silence. 
“You like this sort of things?” he asked João.
“Just as much as I liked getting popcorn all over my pants,” João smiled sarcastically. 
That’s right. The popcorn. He’d forgotten. Antonio ducked his head and kicked at the dust. He made to apologize, but the older boy interrupted him before he could. “Come on, ask it a question,” he prompted.
Antonio couldn’t tell if João was joking or not. He exhaled and thought about it for a second, his face illuminated by the crystal ball caressed by the animatronic. João watched the blue light dance on Antonio’s face. Knowing Antonio as he did, he was ready to tease Antonio mercilessly. He could almost hear him.
Zoltar, will I become a famous football player some day?
Zoltar, will I own a farm of turtles? 
Zoltar, will I ever win a lifetime supply of olive oil? 
In reality, Antonio settled on none of those.
“Does João like me, too?” Antonio breathed softly.
And the world stopped. 
Whatever it was that João had wanted to say immediately died on his lips. Antonio felt the older boy stiffen up, saw his mouth part in surprise. He certainly had not expected that. Not even Antonio expected his sudden bout of bravery. But he would not deny himself any longer. He would not fool his heart any longer.
He waited and waited and waited. The entire world was left suspended between his question and João’s answer. Time and its passage had ceased to exist altogether. Even the crickets had stopped their song to listen. 
When at last João’s eyes flickered to meet Antonio’s, Antonio saw that João’s expression had gentled, and his lips had quirked into one of his smiles that he reserved only for him.
You idiot, it said endearingly.
You idiot.
When João stepped tentatively towards Antonio, Antonio was ready. He could feel João’s warm breath on his lips, feel the air in his lungs escape, rush out and leave him empty, craving for João, only João. João brushed his lips softly over Antonio’s, barely there, but close enough for them to know that it wasn’t nearly close enough. Then, leaning in fully, thumbs pressed against Antonio’s cheeks, João kissed Antonio.
Somewhere inside him, everything was exploding at once.
João, his João, loved him back, every inch of him sang. His heartbeat thrummed in his ears. 
Antonio responded eagerly to João’s kiss, gripping his shoulders and twisting his fingers into his long hair. They stayed like that until they grew breathless, and remembered that they needed to breathe just as much as they needed each other. 
Soon after they parted, Zoltar spat out a card. It was Antonio who unfolded it as João looked on from behind his shoulder. 
Love is right around the corner, it said, and Antonio laughed. 
João found the sound light, airy and wonderful. 
The Iberians kissed under the moonlight until the crunch of the scattered popcorn under the warden’s boots was but a distant sound, drowned out by their heartbeats. 
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elisysd · 9 months
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51. Heaven knows I should let go, it’s nothing that I don’t already know
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Masterlist - Previously - Next
Chapter soundtrack: Bad Omens - 5SOS
She was not used to triple headers anymore. She had barely the time to rest when it was already time for Zandvoort. It was always a peculiar atmosphere. People were always very passionate there. She had arrived on Wednesday, to work a little on the side, away from the whole show that would start the next day. She wanted to work on a few documents about the next car sent by Maranello at the beginning of the week. She could have done it in her hotel room but she preferred to work in the atmosphere of the garage, surrounded by the smell of burned rubber and metal.
She sat on the floor and pulled out her laptop from her bag and started to read through the documents, taking notes and writing questions that were popping into her mind. She chewed on her pen. Some data from the testing were not correlating the data from the sim. And it was not as if the gap was minimal which worried her. For a moment she feared that they were going in the wrong direction in the development. A brief vision of a certain USB stick popped into her mind and she briefly regretted not having it near her… She promised herself she wouldn’t use it to work on the current car development but, after all, there was no wrong finding inspiration in a car that was performing really well for the next one. It was not cheating. It would not be the exact same anyway. And a lot of cars were getting inspiration from other teams for their development, there was nothing wrong with it.
As she was focusing on her screen, she heard footsteps coming in the garage. She looked up her laptop. It was weird. No one would come here unless there were mechanics that needed to set up the car and she had checked with her dad, they would only arrive during the afternoon. She stood still, listening to the sounds made by a person who clearly didn’t want to get caught as they seemed to move slowly and tried to stay as quiet as possible. She put her laptop on the side and got up to find herself almost face to face with a man in an elegant black suit.
“Julia? What are you doing here?” asked Carlos, clearly surprised to find her there and could she dare to say, a bit uncomfortable.
“I’m working. I could ask you the same thing.” she replied.
“I’m… going on a trip down memory lane.”
“Reminiscing on the times my dad was kicking your ass back then?” she smiled.
“He was not. We were equally talented teammates.” he scoffed.
“Sure… If you want a full trip to reminisce on your time as a driver, I can get my dad. I’m sure he still has a few videos of you both on tracks.” she was about to take out her phone when Carlos stopped her.
“No! I mean… you don’t need to bother him. So how does it feel for you to join the team?”
“Nice. I’m still getting used to everything.” she said, a bit defensively.
“It’s brave, you know. To stay on the side. To not help the team developing the current car when you could as you’re always near and in Maranello. To wait. I don’t know how you do it. I would sneak around, I wouldn’t be able to help myself. You’re definitely better than me. You follow the rules like your dad and you’re wise like your mom. They must be so proud of you. Their perfect daughter.” he said in a calm voice, slowly turning around her like a lion toying with its prey. She felt a shiver down her spine. “But anyway, I should get going. I have people to meet.”
“Carlos?” she called him out as he was leaving.
“Yes, Julia?”
“Remind me again how many championships you won?” she smiled
She saw a brief glimpse of anger in his eyes as he stared at her before finally leaving. She knew she shouldn’t have said that, that it would only irritate him more and it would come to bite her in the ass. But she hated what he implied, the implicit threats. She should have gone straight to her dad to tell him that Carlos was lurking in the garage but nothing had happened, it was all good and when she came to her room she was caught off guard by Martin standing in the middle of the bedroom, a huge teddy bear in his hands.
“If you don’t want to go to the fair, it’s the fair that comes to you. There is one a few kilometers away from the track and we went there with a few people from the team. I knew you would find that boring so I didn’t ask you but… yeah. I won that for you.” he explained, blushing as she was staring at him not knowing what to say.
“Oh well, that’s a nice gesture… thanks.” she awkwardly smiled.
“You don’t like it.”
“No! I do… it’s just… I don’t even know if I’m supposed to tell you anything.” she sighed.
“You know you can tell me anything.”
“It’s about the car and data. It’s not matching. I’m trying to understand where the gap comes from but I fear we are making a huge mistake in the development. And Carlos was there for no reason and that worries me…”
“Hey, breathe Julia. I trust your judgment and I trust your skills. Whatever the problem is, you’ll find it, I know it. And as for Carlos… maybe he wanted to see Elijah? It wouldn’t be surprising, he is one of his sponsors.”
“I don’t know. I have a bad feeling about this weekend.”
Martin forced her to sit on her bed as he got behind her and tried to appease her by applying slow massages on her neck and shoulders.
“You have to relax. Nothing bad will happen, you’ll see.”
She hoped he was right.
Ethan hated Zandvoort and what it meant for him. It was always a very tense weekend where every single one of his moves were scrutinized. Everywhere he was going, the shadow of his father was looming above him. He could see it in the eyes of the fans, in the eyes of the race stewards who were looking at him and of course in the sea of orange he was welcomed with anywhere he would go. He didn’t consider him as his own homerace, too much history, too much weight on his shoulders with the feeling he had to have a good result there. But still, he had a special helmet for his dad adding a gold lion, the five championships he had won with the years associated with them. It was simple but with a strong meaning, a way for him to embrace his lineage, hoping it would help him to make peace with it.
The qualifying had been great, far from the pole he had been on the week before, with a nice sixth place, behind his teammate. Kyle was on pole and able to race, making Ethan feel relieved. He knew how racing was Kyle’s everything and he hoped it would go well for him. On Sunday morning, when he arrived, he immediately found his dad and mom talking to Charles and Julia. Max had a hand on the girl’s shoulder and was laughing with the Ferrari team’s principal. He rolled his eyes. If only he could find a way to avoid them… but he knew it was useless and he was a better man than that. Or at least was trying. He straightened his posture, put a nice smile on his face and went to the group. He put his arm around his mom’s shoulders, kissing the side of her head as he shook Charles’ hand and winked at his dad. He didn’t want to ignore the brunette who was staring at him but he didn’t know how to act around her anymore. So he stared, in a very awkward way as he saw her blushing and looking at her feet.
“We have to go on a run as soon as you’re back in Monaco, Leclerc! It’s been so long.” said Max.
“Eager for me to beat your ass?” replied Charles with a smile.
“Julia? Care to join us, so you can be the referee.”
“I’m not sure I can keep up with you…” she grimaced.
“Enrico said you made great progress, I’m sure you could, Ju’.”
“Maybe Ethan can come. So you have company while you’re dad and I are fighting.” added Max.
“Dad… I hate running!” whined the blonde.
“You need to work on that cardio, son. It’s important.”
“Oh, don’t worry I’m sure Ethan’s cardio is doing more than okay. His girlfriend is taking good care of it.” Julia snorted, arching an eyebrow.
“Girlfriend? What do you mean?” said Max, caught a little off guard.
“She is talking about Sofia.” Ethan explained.
“Sofia? Are we talking about the same Sofia?” Max repeated.
“Because he is screwing more than one Sofia?”
“Sofia is my therapist.”
He saw Julia’s mouth open and close, before blushing of shame and for a moment he felt like an idiot for having played her. From the corner of his eyes he saw Charles and Max leaving and he quickly apologized to the girl.
“So… you’re seeing someone.” she said when they finally were alone.
“Yeah. It feels good. I’m starting to understand myself a bit more. She helps me feel more grounded, focus on my races. It’s nice.”
“I’m glad. I… I hope you’re not doing that for me? You don’t change for me, I mean.”
“I do that for me. I needed it. I do that for me, then for the sake of my family and the unresolved issues I have with dad… and you. I want to understand where and why we went wrong. So I can be better. I want to be a better man.”
“Don’t change too much, though. I like it when you’re a little asshole.” she smiled, nudging him in the shoulders.
When he got back to the hospitality, he was grinning. His interactions with Julia were still awkward but it started to go from weird awkward to nice awkward. They had still a long way to go before even considering being friends. Somehow, it was still hurting him. He missed her. A lot. Even if it was just her screaming at him, it was still something. He hated her indifference more than anything else and it had always been this way ever since they were kids. If back then  he wanted nothing more than to make her frown, now he wanted her smile. But he would take everything she would give him.
He arrived in the hospitality, right on time for the pre-race meeting. He sat down next to Chloe who was already there, reading her notes. She smiled at him giving him a high five as he started to do the same. They went through the procedures and the strategy one last time and when they finally got out of the meeting room, Ethan wanted nothing more but the peace and quiet of his driver’s room. But when he opened the door, he didn’t think of finding Louis there, reading on his sofa.
“Louis? What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to hang out with you before the race. There are too many people in the Ferrari’s hospitality.”
“Do your parents know you’re here?”
“Yeah, I told mom.” he shrugged.
In fact, even if Louis had indeed told his mom that he was going to find Ethan, Lyanna had not heard him and was now freaking out, in the arms of her husband who was on the verge of sending a search party for his son. Julia had tried to reach him but quickly stopped as he had left his phone in the hospitality.
“He can’t be far away.” tried to reason Martin who was rubbing her back to appease her.
“You don’t know my brother! The last time he ran away, we found him alone, sitting in the middle of the woods.” Julia harshly said.
“Is there a place he would like to be in the paddock? Maybe a quiet place?” Martin ignored her.
“He hates attending races… I know he said he was going more to see Ethan than to support dad.”she sighed.
“Maybe he is with him? Do you think he could have gone to Ethan, to wish him luck?”
“I mean…. Maybe? It’s a possibility that is worth trying.” she said, putting on her coat and walking towards the exit.
“Go, Ju’, we'll stay there in case he comes back.” her dad told her.
She ran to the Maserati hospitality as fast as she could, Martin following behind, but was stopped in her tracks by the security officer.
“I’m sorry miss but you don’t have the badge to enter.”
“I know but… I have reasons to think my brother is with Ethan and…”
“Sure. That’s a new one. Get the hell out of here.”
“But mister…”
“Julia? Is everything alright?”
“Chloe, oh my gosh I’ve never been so happy to see you! Have you seen Louis?” Julia asked.
“Well, no… but I can ask if Ethan saw him.”
“Please do.”
They waited a few minutes before Ethan arrived, Louis right next to him and Julia ran to her brother, not without glaring at the security officer. She hugged the young teen as he didn’t really understand where the sudden burst of affection was coming from.
“But I told mom!” he complained when Julia explained the whole family was freaking out.
“Next time make sure she listens to you, Louis.” Julia replied.
“How did you find me this fast, though?”
“Martin thought you would be with Ethan, since you like him…” Julia explained.
“Saint Martin coming to save the day once again…” Ethan commented with a half smile.
“I mean, Louis loves you. I just thought that if someone could at least help us out it would be you.”
“Next time he does something like that and tells me he warned someone, I’ll text you. To make sure.”
She smiled at him, running her hands in the hair of her brother as he was making an annoyed face.
“We should go… you have a race to focus on and so does Martin.” Julia finally said when the silence became too awkward.
As they were leaving, Ethan screamed at them to wait a moment and ran to the hospitality, before coming back to them, a Maserati’s cap between his hands which he put on Louis’ head.
“I need my number one fan to wear it so it brings me luck.” he smiled, hugging him.
Seeing Ethan acting all sweet and genuine around her brother never failed to make her feel fuzzy and warm inside. She joined her mom after Martin left her at the hospitality. She didn’t even remember if he had kissed her. She was surprised to not care that much.
“Ethan is great with your brother.” Lyanna said after Julia told her everything.
“He had always been.”
“You know, I saw how Louis changed around Ethan. He is more open towards people, more expressive, less in his own bubble. It’s great. I never thought I would see him like this. You know what Louis told me yesterday?”
Julia shook her head as her mom was clinging to her mug of tea.
“He said he wanted to go to university when he would be able to. He doesn’t feel ready for high school but he says he wants to study more outside, in the library. And he wants to take guitar classes. When I asked him why guitar, he said that Ethan told him it was the way to get girls. I laughed because he said it in such a casual tone, you should have heard him… Ethan helped him so much and I don’t think he knows it. I want to thank him. Would you be okay if I was inviting him for dinner, maybe when the season will be over?”
“No, of course not. You’re right, it’s a great idea. Louis will be happy.” she replied with a lump in her throat.
“What about you?”
“Mom… I think I made a huge mistake.”
Ethan felt calm in his car. The orange army of fans wasn’t phasing him anymore, his dad watching him wasn’t giving him any added pressure, really he was okay and ready to race. So when the lights went out he confidently maneuvered his car through to avoid any overtakes. In front, Elijah was already fighting with Kyle for the lead of the race, something the American was not ready to give up on so easily. As for Ethan he was following Chloe closely. The strategy was simple, since she was in front, he had to protect her until the team would tell him otherwise.
The laps went on one by one and for the first time in months Julia found the race boring. Each car was following each other without anything interesting happening. No crazy overtakes, no strategy mishaps, no scary move from anyone. Julia even had to admit that she got so bored that she had started drawing to take her mind off things. The more she was thinking about Martin and their relationship, the more she started to come to terms with the fact that she had jumped into it blindly and stupidly. It would never work out no matter how hard she would try. It had been sweet and lighthearted, it had helped her heal a little and get her confidence back. But that was it, they wouldn’t go further than that. It was doomed to fail from the very start, she had always known deep down. She had been too stubborn to admit it. She hadn’t been fair to Martin either and even less to her. Now, she had to find the courage to tell him.
“Fuck, Ferrari is ferrarying…” swore Lyana, making Julia jumped, not used to hear her mother swear.
“What is happening?” Julia asked, looking up from her drawing.
“They screwed up Elijah’s pitstop. He is now P15…”
“He is going to come back in front.” Julia commented, focusing more on the race.
It didn’t take long for him to regain his position, behind Martin this time. They were both aggressively fighting for the P3 and Julia was surprised to not hear any team’s orders asking them to bring both cars home safely. Elijah was pressuring Martin and Julia knew better than anyone how prone to mistake he could be under it. She hoped with everything she had that nothing would happen. The team didn’t need that after the comeback in the standings they had managed before the summer break.
Julia anxiously started to bite her nails until she heard the whole hospitality gasped before she saw the images. They both had crashed. On the replay, she could see Elijah going for the inside and overtaking Martin but as he drove past Martin, his rear slightly touched Martin’s front and as he tried to stay on the road he slipped and took Elijah with him in the gravel.
Both drivers were getting out of the car angry and Julia swore she had seen Elijah pushing Martin in the shoulder. For a moment she wondered if she should go to him, to comfort him but now Ethan was in the fight for a podium as well as Ludwig, Kyle and Chloe and she really wanted to watch her friends. Martin probably needed time to cool down.
When he had seen the Ferrari’s out, Ethan had smiled inside his helmet. Now he was in the fight for a new podium and nothing could stop him, this time he would stand on a step and he wouldn’t have any doubts of where he was supposed to be.
“You’re faster than Chloe, we are switching positions.”
“Copy.”
And indeed his teammate slowed down a little in the long straight line to let him pass, giving him full permission to go and catch Ludwig to take the P2. He managed to do so in the penultimate lap and when he finally crossed the line after Kyle he let out a scream of joy, quickly followed by his race engineer.
“Second P2 in a row, let’s fucking go!”
“You know what they say, Ethan. Never two without three.”
“No, next time I want a win. I’m tired of being second place.”
Julia was clapping her hands in front of the race results. She was so happy for her friends but most of all happy for Ethan. She knew how underpressure he must have felt during the weekend and seeing him achieving a podium in a race he was more than dreading, she was proud of him. Whatever his therapist was doing with him, it was working. She got out of the hospitality to face a journalist that cornered her and shoved his camera right to her face.
“And we are with Julia Leclerc, future member of Ferrari’s engineering team. We all saw the crash that happened today between your drivers. Is that a lack of communication between Martin and Elijah or a lack of communication inside the team? We were all surprised to notice no team orders.”
“Well… I mean.. I don’t know, that’s a question you should ask to their team principal.”
“We also saw a very nice battle towards the end, what did you think of it?”
“Of course, Kyle is an exceptional driver. It shouldn’t surprise anyone to see him win another race. He is the kind of guy who, when he starts on pole, nothing can stop him. But I’m really astonished by Ethan’s driving lately. It’s so calm and precise, he always had an amazing racing intelligence but I feel like he improved a lot on it. And his overtakes are one of the cleanest of the grid. It’s just a matter of time before he stands on the highest step of the podium. Truth be told, if I were a team principal I would try my best to sign him and give him the car he deserves because the car he is in currently is not made to fight for pole positions and podiums. That’s how talented he is.”
She didn’t know where it was coming from but she couldn’t have helped herself to spill her guts to the journalist. And it felt good. She smiles and thanked him before running to the podium's celebrations.
She made her way to the front right in time for the trophies to be given. Ludwig, Ethan and Kyle had a huge smile on their faces and when the champagne popped, she had never seen them being this happy to spread it. They were drenched and Julia was sure that the hug they were giving to one another would be on the front pages of newspapers.
When she came back to the hospitality to find her boyfriend, his race engineer told her that he had left straight after the meeting. He didn’t even bother to send her a text to tell her he was already back at the hotel. When she arrived in the room, he was scrolling on his phone, barely looking at her. She laid down next to him, trying to catch his attention.
“If I were a team principal I would try my best to sign him and give him the car he deserves because the car he is in currently is not made to fight for pole positions and podiums. That’s how talented he is.” he said in a bitter tone.
“Martin..”
“I don’t even want to talk about it, Julia.” he cut her.
“I’m sorry… he asked me about the race and…”
“No matter what it will always be him. You always come back to him. Always! When I’m right here. I could give you the world Julia, I want to but you don’t let me!”
“I’m trying! You said it was enough for you!” she argued.
“Maybe I lied! Maybe I was wrong! Maybe it’s not enough. Maybe I thought I could make you forget him, I could make you happier, I could be better than him. But I can’t fight against your feelings Julia! He is not physically there but he is everywhere!”
“What do you want me to say?” she asked.
“I don’t know? Fight for me! For once, stop running away and fight for something! Choose me.”
“You can’t ask me that! That’s not fair!”
“Because you’ve been fair with me? That’s rich coming from you.” he laughed, looking at her like a mad man.
“Do you think that I decided to still love Ethan? I can’t control it! And I’m tired of fighting it! I know I’m not fair, and maybe I never was. I know you didn’t deserve it, I know it was selfish to ask you to love me when I can barely look at myself in the mirror. That’s twisted and wrong. I know all of that! But you can’t ask me to choose you. I can’t lie to you. I can’t lie to myself. Not anymore.”
She was about to leave the room, when he called her out and what escaped his lips made her heart sink in her chest.
“I love you, Cecile!”
“Cecile?” she repeated in disbelief.
“I meant, Julia. Gosh, no… I’m so sorry, I don’t know what happened, I…”
She let out an emotionless laugh.
“I don’t want to hear it. It’s useless. We know that this, whatever it is, will never work out. It was stupid to try and I’m sorry if I led you on. Truly. You deserve better. We both deserve better.” she said through the tears.
“So it’s over…”
“It never really started.” she stated, leaving this time for good.
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Author's note: So Martin and Julia are over! Finally! And no it doesn't mean that she will run straight into Ethan's arms... you know me now.
What do you think will happen next? Let me know your theories, I love to read them.
Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.
Taglist:
@herondalism @aundercover @musingsbyshreya @karmabyfernando @reengard @mycenterfold @smoooothoperator
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storiesfromvenus · 14 days
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First Light - day 12: Post-Apocalypse
this was inspired by Hozier, he almost made me cry today. day 12 for scifi september by the @thepromptfoundry !!! i'm not sure if i should be proud of this one but i hope everyone enjoys <3
Dear diary, 
 Today’s date is November 27th, 2043, and it has been snowing for almost fifteen years since The Great Storm. Dad tells me it’s important to keep a logbook, he says it’s to help me organize my thoughts and keep up with dates, anyways, my name is Juniper Cahill and I live in Vancouver, Washington. I am turning thirteen soon. Dad says he’ll be able to get me something nice this year when we leave. 
 He says it’s gotten too cold to live here, that we need to leave some place warmer. I like it here in Washington, you get to see all the magpies. When I was real little, my mom used to sing the magpie rhyme. She said her mom used to sing it to her too.
 Anyways, when I grow up, I want to become a biologist. My dad has given me a lot of biology books this year. I hope I can attend college soon. 
 I’m gonna miss Washington, but my dad says it’s no longer safe to live here anymore. I guess he’s right… I always have to wear extra layers because he’s worried I’ll freeze up. He's also worried about the older kids here too, they always seem to mess with me, especially the boys. I’m not sure why.
 Anyways, I gotta go now, me and dad are gonna go to the store to get some dinner and firewood, Alofie is coming with us.
 Alofie is my dog by the way. He’s an Irish Wolfhound, lots of townsfolk don’t like him.
 Goodbye!
***
It somehow always gets colder in the fall.
 An omen of what winter would bring, something even more detrimental, freezing temperatures dropping lower and lower. You’d be surprised just how many manage to survive the winter the more it gets heavier and heavier.
 Down here, there isn’t a concept of warmth, the sun is practically nonexistent, the skies are always a dull, drab gray color, no longer the limitless blue the world was once used to. Spring and summer are nothing but myths here, water that isn’t solid is a luxury, and heaters, of course, cost way too much.
 People have no choice but to try to buy as much wood as they can for winter. 
  Resources are sacred, never waste them.
 Boots are common footwear here for this climate, good for trekking down the snow-covered sidewalks, sometimes they hurt to wear but… one gets used to it.
 Casey sometimes wondered what it was like, to feel the sun on his skin, to experience summer again way, way back. When he didn’t have to constantly cover himself in layers upon layers just to keep hyperthermia away.
 He remembered the sight of the sky, the clouds forming after that bomb hit. The look of it, it felt like a dream. A horrible, horrible dream. He shivered, not sure due to fear or the frigid air.
 And he remembered the storm hitting just days after, thinking it’d just go away soon and everyone would start to recover.
 What a lie that turned out to be. 
 Casey looked behind him, seeing Juniper struggle to trek through the snow-caked sidewalk. He held out his arm, letting Juniper cling onto him as if her life depended on it. Things would only get worse, Casey realized as he held the shopping bags close to his chest as if they were a newborn. If they didn’t leave soon before December came over, chances are they probably won’t survive.
 And there was no way Casey would ever let that happen.
 “You alright, sprout?”
 “I’m fine, dad…”
  Casey helped her keep steady, and together they trekked through the frigid air.
 “Dad,” Juniper’s soft voice said in the clearing, “what will it be like when we leave south for the winter?”
 Casey looked down for a moment, seeing nothing but snow he stepped on, hearing the soft crunch of ice underneath his boots. “Well… for starters, there’ll be no snow… second off, the sky will be clear, sunny, bright, warm. You’ll be able to play in the grass without having to wear a coat, or a scarf, or a beanie. You’ll be okay…”
 “Dad.” 
 “Hm?”
 “Will there be flowers?”
 “Oh, of course… all sorts of flowers, just for you. Okay?”
 “Like the wildflowers I've seen in books?”
 “Mhm.” 
 “Dad, is there a reason why you named me Juniper?”
 Casey stayed quiet for a moment, he wrapped a shoulder around Juniper, holding her close for warmth. He felt her shaking, they needed to get home, he realized, and soon enough.
 “Well, before you were born, I had visited Ireland for my twenty-fourth birthday, I saw these juniper trees,” he began, in the distance, he saw the faint glow of a porch light in the wintry fog. Hope. the light. The first light. “And… I thought that, if I ever had a daughter, you know what I'd name her?”
 “What?” Juniper asked, as though she hadn’t known. A curious glint in her tired, weary eyes.
 A soft smile, and a whisper soft as the snow, comforting as warmth, “I’d name her Juniper, and one year later… you were born.” 
 His first light.
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Alright apparently someone had to tell me “if you want to talk about witchcraft on your witchcraft sideblog, do it!” So guess what? I’m gonna do it.
So I was inspired by this post from @breelandwalker, but I’ve always wanted to make my own runes/symbol system for casting since I learned how to use Norse runes. I already had a symbol system, actually, because of course I did (it’s been incredible useful for making sigils).
So here they are!
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They’re organized by element in rows, because if you know anything about my practice you know its gotta involve the elements. At the top is fire, then earth, water, and wind at the bottom. I made an effort to balance out the symbols with positive, negative and neutral/complex meanings, so that each element had both good and bad omens, though I think wind and fire are slightly more positive and water slightly more negative.
So, the meanings! (Left to right, top to bottom)
Fire (symbol of the whole element): the core, the spark, the energy source, the physical/mundane realm, encompasses the whole of the element (much like an ace in tarot.)
The Quilt: generosity, protection, warmth and rest, home, a safety net/supportive community
The Candle: ritual/routine, an observance/vigil, duty, hope/faith, diligence, memory
The Key: power, privilege, authority, safety, opportunity, secrets, ideas/knowledge, choices
The Cake: gathering, love, an achievement, celebration, reward, intimacy
The Bag: responsibilities, stress, overwhelm, burnout, emotional baggage
The Brick: Institutions, foundations, building; but also, destruction, disruption, conflict.
Earth (symbol of the whole element): the social sphere, kindness, connection, wonder, gratitude, passion, other people, the whole of the element basically.
The Sprout: Spring, youth, vulnerability, innocence, empathy, growth, new life
The Firefly: Summer, vitality, color, passion, expression, community, wonder, fertility
The Acorn: Autumn, luck, knowledge, an opportunity to invest/prepare, harvest
The Branch: Winter, barrenness, regret, loss, peace, forgiveness, death
The Felled Tree: think the tower card in tarot. Chaos, misfortune, expulsion from comfort zone/a sanctuary, disaster
The Woods: distance from civilization, adventure, getting lost, nature, wonder and strangeness, possible danger
Water (the whole element): the spiritual, intuition, mental health, relationship to the self, fluidity, patience, mindfulness
The Well: creation, wishes, renewal, healing, a source of life, creativity, inner life/world
The Umbrella: an mental shield, a listening ear, peace amidst emotional turmoil, disconnection from emotions, mindfulness, avoidance
The Mirror: Reflection, judgement, redirected energy/projection, meditation, self-image
The Eraser: start over, frustration, cleansing, practice, low-stakes, mistakes
The Mug: “not for you”, toxicity/addiction, hostile environment, broken dreams, perfectionism
The Hourglass: time, cycles, mortality, “start now” “time is limited”
Wind (the whole concept): imagination, change, progress, wishes, magic, the mind, immaterial things, concepts, the “beyond” or the external/opposite of the core
The Patch: independence, grit, resilience, self-expression, controversy, weirdness/counter-culture
The Dice: luck, fortune, risk, laughter, games, levity, arrogance, superstition
The Book: intellect, knowledge, challenge, lessons, passive methods of learning, seeking
The Lightning Bolt: sudden change, clarity, direction, energy, motivation, an exclamation point
The Mosquito: annoyance, life-draining, conflict, grudges, “scratching makes it worse”
The Feather: comedy, convenience, avoiding consequences, freedom, escape, a favor owed
They are SO FUN, I highly recommend making runes like these. Having picked personal symbols, there was nothing to memorize (I made this whole post without looking at my reference) and after a few readings, they seem really accurate and easy to understand!
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blush-and-books · 2 years
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Top 5 all-time favorite ships?
TEA!!!
Warning - this list is literally just the same m/f couple in different fonts. A lot of these were more formative and influential in my childhood or were from series that are from a couple years ago. I am naming these as my top five because of how insane I went over them/how hard I hyperfixated on them.
When I made this list I was disappointed to realize that there hasn't been a wlw couple from a series or movie that has influenced me this powerfully, but I hope to find it soon and if you have any recs lmk! :) Will also include honorable mentions!
1. Kirsten Clark and Cameron Goodkin, Stitchers (2015-2017)
This is tied with Julie and the Phantoms for one of my biggest hyperfixations ever. Kirsten and Cameron were a slowburn that was done really beautifully and nobody was doing it like them. I watched this show at a very pivotal developmental point in my life, and I think these two taught me a lot about the work that a relationship takes and the fact you have to be willing to put it in - they were a healthy relationship example for me at a time that it was necessary for me to see it. They have a lot of character development over 3 seasons but grow together in healthy ways, and the writers kind of bake it into the plot that they're meant to be lmao. They also are just a great example of loving someone for everything that they are. They definitely made me a little mentally ill but also inspired me to be a writer, so...
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2. Julie Molina and Luke Patterson, Julie and the Phantoms (2020)
I don't know how long you have been following me anon, but if I've been on your dash at all in the past couple years, it was most definitely related to Julie and the Phantoms, and probably related to Julie and Luke. In one season, they had insane development and beautiful chemistry. The way their characters were written made them naturally fit together, and made me cry "soulmates!" quite often. I will forever mourn what they could have been, and be grateful for some of the most stellar works of fanfiction I've ever read that were produced in their name.
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3. Anne Shirley Cuthbert and Gilbert Blythe, Anne With An E (2018-2020)
Technically they're from the whole Anne of Green Gables Universe but AWAE is one of my Shows Of All Time ™ lol so I'm crediting them to the show!!! Just everything about them..amazing. Definitely gave me unrealistic expectations for love tho bc who tf assaults a man and still bags him in the end!??? Anne. She's that bitch and I haven't reached that yet but I'm working towards it.
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4. Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy, Pride & Prejudice (2005, dir. Joe Wright)
This is another one of those ships where I'm like if you've followed me long enough you could have seen this coming lol. These two are from the general Pride & Prejudice Universe, first created by the lovely Jane Austen, but P&P 2005 is by far my favorite movie of all time, and it is still breathtaking every time I watch it. Keira Knightley and Emmy Award Winner Matthew Macfadyen are really a perfect pair and their adaptations of the characters are so genuine and whole. Everything I do, I do for them.
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5. Nina Martin and Fabian Rutter, House of Anubis (2011-2013)
My original Ship of All Time. Was very mentally ill over them. I rewatched this show last year and I expected to be like "oh god this is cringe how did young me like this so much" but instead I was like "oh god this is so well written how could anybody hate this show." Yes it has its silly moments but I could write essays on how well it was written. The foundation of trust between Nina and Fabian was more powerful than any "do you trust me?" YA teen fantasy movie moment of the 2000s. Fabian was the blueprint for every fictional crush I have had since.
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HONORABLE MENTIONS:
Kaz Brekker and Inej Ghafa, Six of Crows Duology and Shadow & Bone TV series
Aziraphale and Crowley, Good Omens
Su-hyeok and Nam-Ra, All Of Us Are Dead
Joyce Byers and Jim Hopper, Stranger Things
Zoya Nazyalensky and Alina Starkov, Shadow & Bone Trilogy and TV series (yes I am a Zoyalina truther sorry)
Dan Humphrey and Blair Waldorf, Gossip Girl (will I receive hate for this one? to be determined)
Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson, Stranger Things
John B and Sarah Cameron, Outer Banks
Ethan and Sarah, My Babysitter's a Vampire
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nellasbookplanet · 11 months
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In other news, it’s spooky month and I accidentally watched a christian horror movie (yes, that is apparently a thing that exists) and didn’t fully realize until the demon started spouting anti-abortion rethoric, and this has once again made me think about how so many (western) supernatural horror movies are somehow simultaneously very secular and extremely christian to the point that it’s hard to even notice when they start to slide into propaganda because most of them present christianity as this natural and obvious status quo. You use a crucifix against vampires. Call a priest to deal with demons. No one in-narrative ever has any actual conversations about what this means, despite featuring largely secular characters who should by all rights be experiencing existenial crises at the face of all this proof of not just the supernatural but of god almighty himself. Christianity is just the Obvious Tool. Calling a priest is like calling a plumber and requires no reevaluation of one's world view. A crucifix is no different from a bag of garlic.
Despite being mostly an atheist myself, I strangely often find myself prefering stories that lean more into the christian aspect: angels show up, maybe god has a few lines, the devil personally makes an apperance at some point. You know, Supernatural and Good Omens and Constantine and Lucifer type christianity. At this point, it stops feeling like an assumption of One True Religion and starts feeling like any other mythology, not dissimilar to Rick Riordan writing greek gods. It’s just another fantasy element inspired by real beliefs. I really wish more supernatural horror leaned this way, or alternately in the complete opposite way where the monsters and demons are completely removed from christianity. Give me some pre-christian demons, get a bit creative with the concept instead of just copying the exorcist's homework, c'mon you can do it!
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ackalice · 1 year
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So... I wrote something...
long story short, Meelu's oc posts inspired me to make one of my own! I felt awkward posting something from the very middle of the story so I wrote a tidbit from the very beginning!
I hope you enjoy what my brain scribbled down at 10 pm last night- lmao
~tags~
@meeludrawz @4-the-streets @mono-chrono
First Encounter
Adelaide swung her legs over her windowsill with a slight huff, frowning at how her backpack strap slid down her shoulder. She shoved it back up with another frown. Then she scooted off the windowsill and landed on the fire escape as quietly as she could. Which wasn’t too quiet. It was actually very loud. Though after a few seconds of standing still as a plank and listening for any noise from beyond her bedroom door, Adelaide determined that no one had heard it. Or had a second thought about the clambering.
She wasn’t about to fumble the opportunity either way, so she scrambled to climb the metal ladder and make her way to the roof.
The full moon was out tonight, shining down on the girl from far above. Adelaide gave it a glance and a smile. She wasn’t exactly sure if that was a good omen or not. Regardless, she appreciated it and continued on her way across her building’s roof.
Once she reached the edge, she made a quick hop from the concrete and onto the gravel of the next building over. The structures weren’t too far apart, so it didn’t take a master to do. Just someone with good joints. Lucky for Adelaide, she was still young enough to constitute for those.
On she went, stepping between roofs without a care in the world, listening to New York City’s nightlife all the while.
A dog’s bark, some car horns in this corner and that, a most likely drunken man’s cheerful shout, and, of course, a far off police siren. Never a dull night. It made Adelaide sigh contentedly.
Which was odd, but she didn’t think about it too much.
 Finally, she reached a building only a few away from her own and decided to take root. Adelaide set down her backpack and pulled out her phone (She never trusted her pockets in fear of dropping it when out at night. Again..).
For a few minutes, she just sat up there, fiddling around on her own and taking a minute to relax herself. The day previous had been less than stellar for her and her siblings so it was a deserved rest.
No projects to work on at the moment, no need or want to listen to music, and no ideas for blueprint sketches, she relished in the moon light instead.
Adelaide took a seat beside a large roof turbine. That lengthy braid of hers was laid in her lap being fiddled with as she closed her eyes and took in the sounds around her. It was so peaceful. She probably could’ve fallen asleep right here.
Ironically it was just then that a large thud to her right startled Adelaide out of that thought.
With her fight or flight coming into play almost immediately, she ducked down with wide eyes and scrambled around the turbine, yanking her backpack with her. Her hiding spot wasn’t exactly ideal- hell it was shabby at best but that wasn’t Adelaide’s first thought in the moment. Another lighter thud was heard behind her. She set her bag in her lap and held her braid tight to her chest.
“Can we just think about this plan for a second??” What sounded like a teenage boy said, almost frantic.
Two more thumps sounded out on the roof, footsteps indicating they were getting closer to where Adelaide was. She was sweating bullets.
“What is there to think about? We’ve got the bugs and we’ve got the perfect way to dispose of them! I propose we think more about Leo’s apparent arachnophobia.” Another boy said, quickly followed by a few chuckles in different voices.
The boy from earlier seemed to groan. “For the last time- I don’t have aracno-whatever! I just don’t trust a woman that we met yesterday!” He exclaimed. Adelaide could imagine him throwing his hands in the air for some reason.
This gave her the insane idea to turn around and get a tiny peak of whoever had snuck up on her. Who else would be up on the roof at this time of night?? She didn’t usually see anyone else up here. With how hard they landed she could assume they jumped down from somewhere. Who would do that and not break an ankle!?
A deeper voice broke her out of her rabbit hole. “Listen- It’ll be fine! Like Donnie said, this is probably the best way to get rid of so many bugs at once! It’s a win-win.” He spoke as he walked around a bit.
Adelaide could feel his footsteps through the concrete.
This was making her even more curious. Maybe she would take that quick peak-
She stifled a yelp at the pain that spiked up through her scalp. After taking a few seconds to pause and make sure they hadn’t heard her (They were still bickering), she followed her hair down and right into one of the openings on the turbine. Damn it. A few tugs told her it was definitely stuck. She couldn’t even turn her head all the way!
The seemingly irritated boy scoffed. Then, a much younger sounding voice joined in. “Raph’s right, Leo! We’ll just drop off the bugs and be out of the Nexus before you can say arachnophobia!” He said semi-reassuringly.
“Even Mikey can say it!” That second voice said offendedly, the bigger one starting to cackle at them very loudly.
Adelaide had been listening and simultaneously trying to pull her hair out of the turbine in silent panic. But then she heard the word ‘Nexus’. Wasn’t that the name of that weird hotel a few blocks away? She had taken note of it on a few of her night walks.
“I still don’t trust her..” One of them grumbled, Adelaide imagining him crossing his arms.
The gruff voice groaned at him, taking a few steps to what she assumed was the edge of the building. “Whatever, Leo. Let’s just get home and make sure pops isn’t worrying about us. We’ll meet up with Big Mama tomorrow night.” With that, there was a big whoosh and then a thud further down, seemingly on a building lower down.
A few more shuffles followed. The same process of a jump and a landing happened two more times. Then there was the sound of a jet starting. The curious thrum faded down and away after a few quick seconds.
Adelaide looked either side of her without any movement. The four figures had left just as soon as they arrived, leaving Adelaide in a confused and oddly intrigued state. Oh, and her hair was still stuck.
Rather irritated about it, she decided to undo the large braid holding her hair up and slipped the strands out easily after that. Adelaide then stood up with tired knees. Those peculiar people were nowhere in sight.
Adelaide turned around to look up at the building with the neon ‘NEXUS HOTEL’ on the front. It was pretty easy to spot, actually. And not too far away.
She should be free tomorrow night.
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savedpeople · 10 months
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4. If you’re single muse, what other characters would like to do in addition to the muse you have now? 5. Do you make it up as you go along, or do you plot and strictly stick to the plot? 8. Have you lost any friends since you started roleplaying? 9. If so, do you miss them? 12. Roleplaying pet peeves? 13. Where do you get inspiration? Music, memes, books, games? 19. Crack roleplay: yes or no? 21. Ever gotten hate for your characters or your writing?
Random questions for the mun | Accepting | @wexarethewalkingxdead
So because of how hard it is for me to write right now, I'm not looking to RP any additional muses. Hypothetically, if I had the time, energy, and motivation? I'd first want to fully bring back some of my past muses (namely Levi from Attack on Titan and Ted from Bill & Ted.) As for new characters, if I could, I'd try writing Crowley from Good Omens or Gojo from Jujutsu Kaisen.
It depends on the thread, but generally I like to loosely plot something but otherwise make it up as I go, and just check in with my partner and plot further when needed.
There are friends I've made through RP that I've since lost, yes. In some cases we just drifted apart, other times there was a falling out, or they did something that made me too uncomfortable to continue following them. Others just stopped logging in one day and I have no idea what happened to them. Some of them I miss dearly, some I have no interest in ever speaking to again.
My RP pet peeves are the usual. Godmodding, metagaming, trying to force things onto me (ships, headcanons, etc.) Expecting my muse to feel or act any certain way. Partners making everything about their muse is a big one as well, and I also don't appreciate my muse being treated as anyone's punching bag.
I get most of my inspiration from the source material and from music, but I can also get ideas while watching movies and other media.
Crack roleplay can be fun! It can be an easy way to break the ice since there's no real pressure for it to be good, you know? But I can only do so much of it and generally don't want it influencing any of our real/serious interactions.
And yes, I've gotten hate for my muses, my writing, and even my ships. Not a lot, thankfully, but it happens every once in a while. I usually just delete and block when I can.
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vernahateclub · 8 months
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All post-wedding dialogue
I married Amirah and here are all the NPC lines after the wedding sequence
(captured during EA, might have changed since then. Also no Haru/Logan)
Andy: Nice shindig, Builder. Course, if it was me; organ music is a bit corny. I woulda done rock guitars! Twenty minute drum solo between vows! Dancers explode out of the cake, they're wearing- wait a sec, am I seriously talkin' about my own wedding right now? Get it together, Andy. Get it together...
Arvio: Anyone who doesn't believe in true love... well, it's a pity they missed this ceremony! Even one with a heart of stone would have melted after hearing your wedding vows...
Banjo: Meow!
Burgess: "Though you met in darkness, your souls are on in the Light..." Pretty good, huh! Heh, well. Not mine. Deacon of Meidi! But it totally reminded me of you two! You shine brighter than like... all the stars combined!
Catori: If your marriage was a business, I'd invest every last penny! Here's to wishing you many years of happiness.
Coco: Coo! Coo!
Cooper: Welcome to the club, builder! The marriage club! Now, it's not an official organization. We don't have membership cards. I mean, we have marriage licenses, which, I reckon for all intents and purposes could suffice as a membership card, but, well, to me that just wouldn't feel right. First thing you're gonna wanna get straightened out in your marriage is who sleeps on which side of the bed... (you realize there has probably never been a better time to slowly back away.)
Dan-bi: Congratulations, congratulations! And now, as this monumentous ceremony nears its close: time to get down to business... that's right, I'm talkin' about babies, baby! Good chance our kids'll be the same age... then they can have a best friend right out the gates! Well... you think about it...!
Deputy Captain: Meow meow!
Elsie: So what was it like standin' up there? Was it more... beauty of this miracle called life? Or more... Warmth of the Bright Sun in the form of finding true love amongst those closest to you? Ooh, I can tell the way you're lookin' at me, it's both!
Ernest: If I ever need to write about the perfect wedding, I'll always be able to draw upon this moment for inspiration. Congratulations, Builder
Fang: I pray for you to be forever... as two swans
Grace: You're going to have to give the rest of us dating advice at some point, Builder. It's not easy to bag a keeper like you did, eh?
Heidi: What a wonderful ceremony... Hey, extended family means expanded homestead, am I right! Just come by Construction Junction anyti- oh, shoot, I just did an ad spot at your wedding. Sorry! And congratulations again!
Hugo: Nothin' like a good start as a good omen for a happy marriage. Steer the course, Builder. You've got this.
Jasmine: Your wedding has been super fun, Builder! I love the flowers, too! I just wish there was someone here taking pictures... maybe that's what I'll do when I grow up; take pictures at weddings. Then you can relive this moment anytime you want!
Jensen: Hey, with this wonderful ceremony coming to an end, it's time to start thinking about your honeymoon! Why not take a train to Lucien! I hear it's nice this time of year.
Justice: Dang, Builder, you're a lover and a fighter! Not many people get to say that! Hence... you know, the whole nature of the phrase revolving around the idea that one must choose one or the other...
Krystal: Ah, shoot... I was really hopin' we could have someone from the Salvage Co. Who could make it through the ceremony without cryin' but... aw, here it goes...! Waaahhh!
Mabel: Oh, Builder. You two are like peas in a pod. Like bread and butter. A real match made in heaven! Oh... I can hardly contain myself...!
Macchiato: Meow!
Matilda: I must say, in all my years, I have never read for a more earnest and unwavering couple. I wish you the best, but can say you hardly need any thoughts or prayers; your love is one that will surely last a lifetime.
Meerkat: Squeak! Squeak squeak!
Mi-an: You two look amazing together! And just think, all of this started with you hopping off that train platform oh so long ago... we've come so far and built so much... some of us building even... relationships!
Miguel: Keep your wedding vows, Builder. Take them home, put them somewhere safe. If ever things are hard, look at them again and try to recall the splendor of this moment. Congratulations.
Mort: Congratulations, Builder. You know, I always say my greatest achievement was convincing Martle to marry me. I wish you two the same happiness.
Nemo: Ruff! Ruff ruff!
Owen: Whew... I said I wasn't gonna cry... Oh, who am I kiddin', here come the waterworks... wahhh...! You two... are just so beautiful together... sniff...
Pablo: Love the outfits! You two match in just about every way possible! Seeing you two... oh... it makes me want to almost think about maybe considering having thoughts about one day... thinking about getting married.
Pebbles: Marry! Marry! Marry! When my ma and my pa gon get married...?!
Pen: Heyyy, you actually went through with it! I was kinda hoping to see someone get left at the altar, but... this while 'magical moment' thing kinda works, too. Congratulations!
Qi: Excellent work, Builder. Though, new to the sport, I'm quite confident that you're winning at wedding-having. I can honestly say I have never seen anyone so skilled at weddings before.
Rian: Hey! Me an' Dan-bi got married here, too! I guess not that much of a coincidence, it's the only place in town... but we've got that in common now and uh... I dunno, maybe gettin' married here is good luck or somethin'.
Rocky: Aw, man... I'm gettin' all warm and fuzzy inside... I... nah, Riast, I ain't cryin'... I'm just... talkin' in a really high voice for some reason...! Congratulations...!
Trudy: The family is the foundation of our society. It makes me proud to see someone like you putting down roots in our humble town. I'll keep trying to make our town a better place for you and your loved ones!
Unsuur: Wow, this wedding is great. You should get married every day.
Venti: I was clapping for you guys so much my hands hurt. Clap clap clap. Ow!
Vivi: I am just so glad with how the attire turned out, you two look absolutely to die for. Riast, it really has been an honor to be here and to be able to contribute on your special day. Congratulations! Now go and enjoy yourself, your grandma said so!
X: I want a brother! I want a sister! More birdies! More birdies!
Yan: Heyyy there newbie! Thanks again for the invite! Say, you're out of shrimp cocktails. And those tiny hotdogs. Aaaand... well, pretty much all of the hors d'oeuvres; I stuffed 'em all in my pants for later! So yeah, very happy for you la dee da dee da, go get us a re-up on those hors d'oeuvres! I'm starvin'!
Zeke: I used to be the guy to pronounce couples. Saw a lot of 'em stick together, a lot of 'em fall apart. Sometimes, only way to know if a shoe fits is to slip it on. Here's hopin' to many comfy walks for ya, Builder.
(I don't know what Amirah says as a wedding guest, but here's what she says as a bride)
Amirah: My only regret is that this moment couldn't have come sooner. Today, I feel our love emboldened by a new spark... I love you more than I ever thought possible, Builder. Thank you for this day..
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rcreveal · 9 months
Text
In a cow byre a deal is struck: England 1124
Summary:
Prompt a week challenge combining prompts: weather and how we began again-with an illicit bargain When they last met as a knight of the Round table and the Black Knight, Aziraphale and Crowley had argued about Crowley's suggestion that they were canceling each other out and were better off staying home.  They haven't spoken since, but are both still working in medieval England. When and how did "The Arrangement" start?
Notes:
(See the end of the work for notes.)
Work Text:
1124 England
Sheets of water pushed by gale force winds slapped into the lonely figure staggering through the night and storm blackened countryside.  It fell into a ditch and cursed.  It fell into a bramble and cursed.  Smelling wood smoke, it made its way purposefully towards a tiny, hesitant glimmer of light before finally standing in front of a cow byre with an animal skin for a door.
“Hullo? Harmless woodcutter here, just looking for a place to get out of the wet.  No threat to anyone at all,” the figure, dressed as a medieval woodcutter called out with a little miraculous force behind the words to make them believable.  Hail rattled on his coat while a gust of wind carried off some of the smaller stones on the top of a nearby wall.  What he wouldn’t give for a seat by that fire!
“Do come in!  Just a poor friar here with nothing to steal!” a strangely familiar voice called from inside the structure.
“Hold on a minute…” Crowley stuck his head into the part dirt, part stone, part wood, but at least roofed structure.  “What are you doing out here, Aziraphale?”
“Crowley! Goodness, it’s not fit for man nor beast out tonight!” exclaims Azriaphale dressed as a medieval friar sitting next to the cozy fire.
“I guess that means it’s perfect for a demon like me .  Right, I’ll push off then,”  Crowley turns into the storm with his teeth gritted, fairly gutted with disappointment.  Figures.  The only vaguely habitable shelter for miles around would already have him in it.  And he had made himself perfectly clear about what he thought about them working together the last time they’d run into each other as knights during Arthurian times! 
Crowley, too busy deciding if he should make for the stand of fir trees or just keep plodding through the night, doesn't expect the warm grip on his wrist that tugs him at the same time a blast of wind, sleet, and hail fairly pushes him into the byre.
“No! That's not what I meant!  Get in here you idiot!” scolds Aziraphale, unintentionally banging the demon’s head against the low door.
“OW! What was that for!?” Crowley holds his head and takes a deep breath to further bless the angel out, but the cow byre doesn't so much have a chimney as it has a more porous section of roof and he gets a lung full of smoke instead.  Coughing he collapses in a heap by the fire, holding his head and glaring at the angel.
“I'm not going to turn you away on a night like this!  You're wet through and it's not showing any sign of letting up,” Aziraphale looks at the grumbling, dripping, muddy, bramble-torn demon, and says more plaintively, “At least dry off before heading out again.”
Crowley groans in frustration but moves closer to the fire.
“Fine.  What are you doing up here in the back of beyond?” asks Crowley as the leather bags tied to his lower legs as footwear start to steam.
“Oh, I'm supposed to meet a young second son of the local lord and inspire him to be more caring of the local serfdom.  You?” Aziraphale remarks lightly.
“Funny thing is, I'm meant to meet the second son of the local lord and tempt him to be more harsh with the local serfs,” Crowley just looks at Aziraphale from hooded eyes as he tips water out of his cap and shakes it out of his sleeves.
Aziraphale huffs, “The same old argument! Again! We're canceling each other out!”
Crowley scrubs his face, “I didn't say anything!  You said not to speak of it again, so I'm not speaking of it!”
Aziraphale opens his mouth to argue, closes it, opens it once more only to look up at the roof shaking in the gale.
“Right, you didn't.  Sorry.  Jumped to conclusions there.  May I make it up to you with a drink and some dinner?”offered the angel.
“You've got food and drink in here?  You said you had nothing to steal!” accuses Crowley, to the angel’s raised eyebrows.  “Fine! Yes! I'll happily take food and drink off of you!”  Aziraphale smiles delightedly and hands over a leather pouch of wine and scoops porridge from an earthenware pot in the coals of the fire.
“Where'd you get this wine? ‘s good.” asks Crowley after a long pull.
“Well, when the robbers accosted me, I explained that I was from a really strict order that was all about poverty and fasting and work.  They were so taken with my pitiful state that they pointed out the location of this cow byre and gave me the wine and food!” Crowley had stopped eating with the spoon halfway to his mouth.
“Lovely lads, really,” said Aziraphale.
“This happens to you often?” Crowley comments mildly.
“Yes! All the time! Robbers used to be so tiresome until I learned to talk with them.  Don't you?” explains Aziraphale.
Taking another long pull of the wine, Crowley looks over at the angel with something like respect. “I think I've been doing this all wrong for ages,” he murmurs.
“How do you deal with robbers then?”asks Aziraphale curiously.
“I make ‘em think I'm too much trouble and they turn away.  Sometimes I have to manifest the demonic face to scare them off.  Occasionally they drop some loot in the process, but I've never gotten helpful lodging suggestions!” Crowley comments with grudging admiration, passing back the wine.
The silence becomes a bit more companionable as Crowley tucks into the porridge and warms up further. He takes off his sheepskin coat and lays it on a pile of hay to dry giving his tunic and leggings a chance to steam.  Trying to find a safe topic of conversation, he says, “Rotten weather we've been having.”
Aziraphale, however,  has something on his mind, and hopes Crowley will understand the change of subject, “I've been thinking about the problem of Home Office checking up if nothing happens. So both parties can't stay home,” he takes a measured sip of wine before passing the pouch over.
Crowley accepts the wine and without looking at his hereditary adversary comments, “It turns out that a demon can perform a…blessing,” before taking his own measured sip and passing the pouch.
Arizaphale is staring at Crowley, “You….!”
“Nnnngh!  Not me, not me!” Crowley hisses and rolls up on his elbow from the nest of hay he's burrowed into to glare at Aziraphale.
“So if an angel could do…the other thing…” Crowley starts to suggest, but stops in the face of the angel's stubborn set of.face and shoulders. Aziraphale starts to make an angry retort when the storm shakes the little structure so fiercely that the fire gutters and the walls seem ready to fall down.  They both stare around waiting for the last moment to perform some protective miracle, not wanting to expose their current location.  The wind settles and the warmth returns to the little space.  
Over the crackling of the fire, Aziraphale reconsiders his words, making careful eye contact with Crowley, “Really, this weather isn't fit for anyone to be out in.  We should wait until tomorrow to find the lord's second son so he can be  tempted to do good,” Aziraphale points to Crowley, who's sitting up with a look of surprise on his face, “and tempted to do bad,” Aziraphale's face looks pained as he points to himself.
Crowley smiles, it only took 500 years or so for the angel to think maybe one of them should get out of the rain from time to time, progress!  Plus travel really was abysmal since the fall of the Roman Empire.   Hand out, he challenges the angel to go through with the plan.  Aziraphale rolls his eyes skyward, shakes his head, mouthes “what am I thinking!” drinks the rest of the pouch of wine and shakes Crowley’s hand, sealing the deal.
The next morning they'd bickered while Aziraphale handed over the friar's robes and a blackthorn staff and Crowley had parted with his woodcutter's cap, tunic, leggings and ax.  Their medieval clothes were so voluminous that they could swap relatively comfortably.  
“You lost the toss, old boy!  Temptation first,” said the angel nervously, “so the blessing has a more lasting effect.”
“Yes, then I won't meet you back at the cow byre,” Crowley rolled his eyes at the pantomime, maintaining eye contact until the angel nodded.
Aziraphale was hard at work chopping up a small tree that blocked the young lord’s path when the youth rode up.  Glancing up the steaming nostrils of the horse, Aziraphale notes the youth appointed in finely woven wool, and brightly dyed coat trimmed with fur.  Mostly he notes how perfectly balanced the boy is, neither tipping towards good nor evil and the potential in his life is huge.  His choices will significantly impact the people of these lands.  No wonder both Home Offices want to influence him.  Oh dear, should Aziraphale keep his word and tempt the lad, trusting in Crowley to bless him?  He was an angel, could he even do the wrong thing?  Then his eyes dropped to the boy's hand casually sitting on the hilt of his sword.  ‘I did that, I brought war to humans.  Or at least I brought weapons, so I certainly can do wrong.’
All this passes through his mind in a flash as he makes the proper obeisance to the boy.  He endeavors to somehow be cheeky about it.  
“You bow well, man, but somehow it seems me false, like the felling of this tree across the path seems poorly chosen by one otherwise prudent,” the lad challenges.
Aziraphale looks up, surprised at the youth’s keen discernment.  
“Pardon me, my lord, but I was only felling the tree where it would be most easy to get it moved up to the castle.  The quick ‘n easy way! Isn't that what the great lords do? Find the quickest, easiest way and lead us to it?” Aziraphale lops the branches so the horse can jump over the tree and bows again.  
“Have this ‘easiest way’ cleared by the time I come back!”
“Yes, my lord,” and Aziraphale turns to clearing the log as the boy rides away.
Shortly the boy comes upon Crowley gathering herbs in the forest.  Crowley bows, receiving the lad’s hail, “Father, what are you doing in the forest?” 
Crowley sees the potential in the boy, and the thoughts of how he might serve himself set off by his talk with Aziraphale.
“I'm gathering the bounty of the storm, my lord!  These galls make the most wonderful ink and these mosses make a tisane that eases headache, but they only grow high in the trees.
“Ah, good Father, then I have your solution! Have the wood cutter cut down the trees and you can gather what you need! “
“Ah, my lord, that would give me what I need for today, but the tree would be dead and I couldn't gather from it for the next person's ailment. Like killing your sheep for the wool, rather than sheering them and caring for them when they're cold and keeping them from harm.  I've found that there are too many unintended consequences to the quick path.  It's only easy in the short run, with respect, my lord.” Crowley bows and feels the good and evil in the boy swirl back to a wavering balance.
“Your words are as the sermon and well received, Father! Fare thee well!”
“And blessings be upon ye, my lord,” says Crowley as the boy rides away.
Aziraphale smells something wonderful as he walks back to the cow byre,  “That smells delicious! What did you make?” 
“Snared a couple of conies, gathered some things in the forest to add to the porridge pot,” Crowley ladles the stew into wooden bowls.  “How'd it go? Seemed successful when he got to me.  How was he when he got back your way?”  Crowley didn't sound upset or surprised that Aziraphale had checked to make sure he kept his word.
Aziraphale touched the cross Crowley had left behind.  It didn't burn him.  He’d tempted the lad and he wasn't Fallen.  “Our efforts balanced out.  We can both report, truthfully, that the deeds were done.”
Crowley touched the cross and smoke started to curl from his fingers.  Even doing good didn't offset simply being a demon, but he hitched a smile on his face and held out his hand.  “Right, then.  We can do this… thing,” he vaguely indicates the role reversal they pulled off, the forest, the cow byre, ”from time to time… to stay out of the weather, as it were.”
Aziraphale clasps Crowley's hand, “The arrangement seems sound to me.” Crowley grinned hugely then, causing Aziraphale to bluster, “only on very rare occasions!”
“I'll drink to that!” Crowley chuckled, bringing out another flask of wine.”What? Those bandits are really a soft touch.”  Aziraphale just laughed and laughed as the sun shone over the forest and fields.
Notes:
I didn't have lots of time to research the methods of addressing second sons of local lords or Friars as part of the prompt challenge. If you know the correct wording, I'd be happy for the corrections.
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damselofblueroses · 3 years
Text
The Name of the Rose
Summary: Your study-buddy Doh Kyungsoo comes with you for a long-awaited trip to Tokyo, Japan. There is a tension between you, however both of you decided to build a friendship instead of a relationship.
Content: Unestablished relationship, AU, Hurt/Comfort, Anger, Slight Violence, Emotional Complications and Healing.
Warnings: Well, the story contains NSFW/Smut, please minors do not continue.
Note: This story was inspired by D.O.’s album, Empathy, the album of 2021 in my opinion. It is an ongoing mini project, I planned to write it as a one-shot when I started, however I realized there are a lot to say about Empathy Era and I cannot stop shut my mouth, or prevent myself from writing… So, here we go.
Second chapter, the Hunter and the Goddess is out :)
Word Count: 3.6k
Chapter 1: The Hunter and the Gazelle
Stat rosa pristina nomine, nomina nuda tenemus.
You were excited.
No, it was not the correct word to be used. You were hyperactive, more than your usual self, and God knows that everyone could testify on how hectic your personality was. According to your family and very close friends, you were a walking catastrophe, funny but a fucking tease and potentially dangerous for environment.
And now, as you had been waiting for your flight, you could not manage to even stay still. Your hands were everywhere, you proved yourself again by dismantling your tote bag as poor thing was on your lap and you were playing with it unconsciously.
“Enough.” you heard your companion’s baritone voice tone. “If you will continue like this, you have to buy your belongings again in Japan. Do you have that much money?”
He reached to you and took the bag from your lap. For a second, his fingers brushed your thighs, and you lost your concentration during that fucking second.
Focus! you told yourself.
“I can always lend some money from you.” you cocked one of your eyebrows. “What? Will you bare me from some bucks?”
“Yes.” he was always plain and simple. On the contrary of you. “Unless if it is not a necessary. I am not a guy of sharing.”
What type of guy you are, can you give me a demonstration?
Your trip to Japan made you very excited, but you had to confess at least to yourself in the depts of your mind. What made you frenzied was the presence of your companion.
Doh Kyungsoo.
Your long-term study-buddy. Actually, he was more than a study-buddy, he was a kind of your comfort zone, even though you never express your opinions about him. You have known each other for almost 7 years since the last year of bachelor. Both of you continued your ways in academic world and you were currently being Ph.D. candidates.
To be honest, he never lose his impacts on you. You had a sweet spot for him since almost the beginning of your friendship which made him more than a study-buddy. It did not mean that you were restraining yourself from having dates time to time, but all of them were ended up with the same result.
They were clever and handsome guys, but they were not Doh Kyungsoo.
Sometimes you could not help but wonder, how it would be if you did not meet him as a friend? Could you two manage having a relationship as your best friend, Baekhyun, supported like a bloody zealot? Or one of you would give up as your brother, Jongdae, always believed?
“Hey!” you heard Kyungsoo’s voice and jumped off from the bench. “Come back to your senses or we are going to miss the plane.”
“And you are going to take its money from me.” your murmured inside of your mouth but obliged to what he said by starting to walk. He was generally quiet during flights, but you knew his mouth will not be shut when you will visit the restaurants he wanted to try.
He does not come for Tokyo, he comes for fucking eels, octopuses, or crabs. Kyungsoo and his appetite.
“Naturally.” he approved your words on money, but there was a ghost of smile on his lips. “Since you are the one who became a sleeping beauty.”
Do you think I am beautiful?
This was another problem you had. With Kyungsoo, you were so relaxed, and you felt extremely safe, so you did not need to control yourself as you generally did. Of course, it was a good omen for your friendship, as much as you were sure Kyungsoo never lied to you, it was also a disadvantage on your part, because sometimes you wanted to ask some questions that should be remained in silence.
“If we would be fairy tales,” you smirked. “I would be Belle while you are the Beast.”
“Fine by me.” he shrugged his shoulder. “He is a very good guy. I am happy for Belle; she understands the assignment. You would not most probably.”
“Sweetheart, you are slow to catch the signs.” you playfully smacked his shoulder when you reached to the control point. You thought he would be annoyed, but he stopped and seriously gazed at you. You shivered and wondered why he was looking at you like he wanted to say something.
“What?” you inhaled.
“Since when I am slow to catch the signs?” he pressed on every word of his sentence, and to your dismay he used that voice tone, almost a whisper but goddamn strong. “Give me an example.”
You shuttered down, and this was the last problem you had with Kyungsoo, he was the only one who could make your brain stop working especially in times when the occasion calls for full-speed devilish progress. You just stared at him and shrugged your shoulder.
“Eh Soo,” you murmured. “You missed a lot of beautiful girls, right?”
Your response was so weak even to your ears. If Chanyeol, number two best friend of you, could hear your words, he would burst into laughs by hitting everyone beside him. You could imagine Junmyeon’s disgusted face as a plus.
“I did not miss anyone, my dear.” he chuckled. “Let me rephrase, anyone I want just one exception, but exceptions do not ruin the calculation in your famous mindset.”
When he chuckles, you can feel your blood tension rocks your body. His heart shaped lips does something to you, and you do not want to name it.
“Exceptions run the world, Doh.” you tried to push him to elaborate his words a little bit more. “Who is that lucky girl who run away from you?”
“That’s my secret.” he smirked and put his hand onto your waist in order to led you the controller lady. “Show your passport, I do not want to wait here forever.”
Who was the girl he mentioned? You could not help but started to feel anxious, how much you tried to press your instincts and feelings, whenever he mentioned a girl, there would be a dire need of crying in the pit of your stomach. You took a deep breathe and followed his instruction. While you were walking into the inside of plane, you struggled with the sudden sadness. You wanted to tear that off yourself, so you reminded yourself the splendid trip ahead you. You found your place and processed to sit down.
“May I help?” Kyungsoo asked you but he already fetched your belongings and placed them correctly. You smiled to him and sat down.
How could you meet someone like him? He was a little bit grumpy sometimes, a person who could give unexpected reactions, but he was reliable, kind, lovely and always thoughtful of his environment. You did not want to lose him. You never want to lose him, on the contrary, you want to keep him in your life until the very end. You could not think a life without Kyungsoo, you always desire him to stay your side.
You were pretty sad, you had to admit, and there was regret. You were regretful on your decision to not go further with him, you wished you could be braver and tell him about your feelings for him. How much you were confused because of him, how many days and nights you spent sleepless because of him. To make the things more complicated, you had zero idea about how he would be responded your confession if you pull yourself together and manage to do. For once, you heard his cousin Minseok talked about you by saying you were very important for Kyungsoo, however you did not know in which extent you were important for him.
You two were always closed to each other, you spent almost 3 or 4 days together, you were living in the same campus, your departments were close to each other. He was a huge part of your life, that’s one of the reasons why you were hopelessly trying to conceal your inappropriate feelings for Kyungsoo. The idea of losing his extremely valuable presence was the only scenario could make you sob.
“Am I the only one who is very uncomfortable?” he whispered to your ear and made your stomach twisted. You could kill him for this, but he was not aware of how he affected you. “You are deadly silent.”
“No, I am just thinking.” you run away from him like an Olympic athlete. “About the trip. I am very excited.”
“If you are,” he flinched your forehead. “You have to talk non-stop. You are silent when something bothers you, what are you hiding from me?”
“Nothing, Soo.” you found a smile from somewhere and presented to him. “You know I never find the chance of visiting Japan; I am really overwhelmed.”
“So, speak to me.” he grunted. “Do not act like I am not here.”
“Okey, okey.” you raised your hands to air. “Sorry for that.”
“I start to feel like I am disturbing you.” he turned his head to the Name of the Rosethat he was reading. Umberto Eco, he had a taste for everything of course. “I asked you twice if you are okey with going to Japan with me.”
You could laugh if you were not so tense since he mentioned girls.
“And I told you this is okey, Soo.” you pinched his upper arm. “You are a good companion for trips.”
“Only for trips?” he asked. What the fuck was wrong with Kyungsoo today? He was behaving weird, and his questions made you more baffled. “I thought I am good companion for everything.”
You bit your lips in order to send back the sudden answer you wanted to give. Instead of declaring your ignorance about his performance on everything, you refined your words.
“You are a good friend, Soo and sorry for making you feel unwanted. I am happy you are coming with me.”
“Hm.” he hummed but he did not look like he was satisfied with your answer. You decided to not think about what the heck he wanted to hear, you also turned to your book that you were supposed to read since the departure. At least Pavese helped you to collect your mind till the plane landed in Narita Airport. He helped you while you two took a cab for the way, he was acting like his usual self, so you accused yourself because of searching hidden messages in his questions. You were such an idiot.
“I will be seeing you at dinner.” he waved his hand when you finished the registration process of the hotel you would be staying for the week. You were in front of the elevator. Both of you already decided to take a nap before dinner when you were planning the trip, so you approved his words and took your keys.
“See you.” you smiled and walked to your room. When you opened the door, your smile widened, the room is so light and minimalistic as you really liked. There was no crowded furniture, crazy designs, or unnecessary modifications. The walls were light blue, the furniture was white, and all looked very harmonious. There were plants and flowers, you immediately run to the flowers as you loved them more than anything else. The hotel staff managed to place even Sakura blossoms into the room that made your heart flattered and smoothed your nerves.
And there was only one blue rose, which was your favourite flower in the world. Just one, between a bouquet of daisies and it looked magnificent. You leaned to smell it while smiling as a little freak. You did not have to see your face; you knew how you looked like. Chanyeol always said that when you see a blue rose, you lost your shit. Another creature made you drunk in happiness was white butterflies. You had a sweet spot for blue roses and white butterflies.
And for Kyungsoo.
You grunted to yourself in your mind, and you headed to the bathroom by tapping your feet to the ground harshly. You were done with your obsession with Kyungsoo, it became something out of control, and you were tired of yourself at this point.
You had to live your goddamn life, you had to stop fucking fantasizing about your study-buddy.
You stripped out from your clothes and jumped into the shower. Cold water helped you to take the control of yourself, both as physical and emotional. You were okey, you were in bloody Japan as you always wanted, and you were going to fucking enjoy it. After shower, you threw yourself into the bed, tucked yourself inside the blanket and set the alarm for one hour later.
After one hour, you were swearing at yourself with your very glorious vocabulary because the only thing you did was fantasizing about Doh Kyungsoo.
“Did you rest?” he asked to you while you were leaving the hotel. You held your growl inside. “Did you take a nap?”
“I did not sleep but I leaned down for a while, so it was good. You?”
“I slept like a baby. It was very interesting when you think I am more like an insomniac.”
“I guess, your insomnia is rubbing on me.” you grumbled. “Where are we going now?”
“Eh, at least something about me can rub on you.” he rolled his eyes, your chin was dropped due to his response. “There is a tiny noodle restaurant in Ebisu, but they are very famous. We are going to there.”
“Okey.” you nod and walked beside of him.
“You look very pretty.” he turned to you. “That dress looked very good on you.”
You instantly took a look on your navy, long dress. It was very comfortable, but also elegant and your fashion freak cousin persuaded you the colour and style gave you a
“Thank you.” you replied. “Sehun chose this for me, you know he is the chef kiss when it comes to fashion.”
“He did well.” he smiled. “How is Sehun by the way, I did not see him since ages. Did he come back from France?”
“No.” you pouted. You really missed your noisy cousin. “He just came to visit for a week, then came back to school. I am not sure if he will come back to be honest, he got some important invitations from European universities.”
“Very good.” Kyungsoo’s face was lit up. He was proud of Sehun. “I know you miss him, but he has a bright career ahead of him.”
“Yes, I know.” you also smiled. Thinking about your successful but extremely playful cousin made you happy. “I just worry about him.”
“Stop babying him.” Kyungsoo punched your arm as half serious half joke. “How old is he, 27?”
“Yeah.” you laughed. “I know I baby him very much, but we all do, Kyungsoo.”
“You are just one year older than Sehun.” he smirked. “Who is going to baby you?”
“Chanyeol.” you exhaled. Kyungsoo looked at you for a second, then both of you burst into laughs because it was well known that you also took care of Chanyeol and Baekhyun as well as Sehun. “Jokes aside, I am a strong and big girl, Kyungsoo, I do not need someone babying me.”
“Maybe you can start looking for a sugar daddy to baby you?” he cocked his eyebrows to you. “Before it is going to be too late?”
“Actually, I had some candidates in my pocket.” you devilishly beamed to him. “You have no idea.”
“Beg your pardon?” his face suddenly transformed from joy to deadpanned seriousness, and his smile was disappeared immediately. “I was joking.”
“I was not.” you blinked your eye. “Some people really proposed to me.”
“For being your sugar daddy?”
“I know I am very little in your eyes, Kyungsoo” you took a deep breathe before continuing. “But here the breaking news: some people could find me attractive.”
“We are not talk about usual dates or men.” he held your arm and turned you to himself. “If you receive this kind of proposes, you have to tell me.”
“Next time, I will report you so we can decide who is going to be my sugar daddy.” you poked his ribs while he burrowed his eyebrows and radiated a strong sense of discontent. “Come on Kyungsoo, I am not going to say yes to this type of proposes, what do you think about me?”
“We are always joking about this issue,” he looked like he was cursing beneath his breath. “But when it comes to you and Baekhyun, I always suspect if you are serious or not.”
“Sugar daddy is a joke.” you hissed. “Of course, it is a joke, I have no interest in having a sugar daddy.”
“What about the proposes? Are they real?”
“Well, they are.” you murmured. Suddenly, you felt like the table was turned and you just played your ace card too early. You felt like Kyungsoo’s eyes investigated your soul to the bits.
“How many?”
“Three.” you gave up. “One from faculty, two from outside.”
“Unethical son of bitches.” he lowly cursed and caught you off guard because he generally preferred to use more polite words, even if he was cursing. “Keep them away from yourself.”
“Oh really?” you teased him by hoping to break the strange tension between you and managed to put a little smile on his face.
“Stop mocking me.” he warned you but now he was smiling widely. His mouth became a heart again, this time you averted your eyes from his face.
“Who I am to dare mocking you?” you squeaked but it was fake.
“Oh, you mock me more than even that walking noisy machine Baekhyun.” he flicked his hand. “We have to stop at this station, Ebisu Garden Place is on the way.”
He put his hand onto your waist again, and you felt like electrocuted again. Every time he touched you, and unfortunately, he sporadically did, you felt like you are dying for more. More what? You were not sure what you really wanted from Kyungsoo, but you were certain on you were desperate for more of him.
More of him.
The bus was crowded, Kyungsoo led you to a little corner, and stayed in front of you. He could be a little bit protective when it came to crowded places since you were clumsy, he generally insisted to keep you close to himself in order to catch you, if you would lose your balance, so you did not surprise when he held your wrist.
What made your heart to do a perfect all kill type of somersault was his next move, his fingers did not stop on your wrist, on the contrary they moved into your palm and grasped your hand tightly. You raised your eyes to him, he never hold your hand, never ever.
“I want to be sure.” he whispered by catching your question before you ask. “Since both of us do not know the way, and the bus is full of passengers, this is more secure.”
“Ah.” This was the best of you at the moment. You quickly realized what the heck you said but Kyungsoo sometimes can be quicker than you.
“Why? Are you unsatisfied with the reason?” His dark brown eyes were shining, his perfume smelled fucking good and the proximity between your faces did not help you.
“Why should I be?” you had to be back to play as soon as possible. “I grant you the chance of holding my hand, that’s count as charity.”
He looked at your hand for a moment, and you saw a smile formed on his lips and instead of a sarcastic reply as you expected, his eyes shaped like a crescent and shined as the fucking moon itself during a cloudless, navy night.
“Thank you, your highness.” he genuinely smiled. “May I continue to hold your hand?”
“Why?” the tone of your question was full of surprise, sounded exceptionally strange.
“Because I want to feel you.” he simply answered, and he squeezed your hand a little bit more. “For once let me feel you by my side.”
You knew that your eyes blown up, your mind was playing some tricky and dangerous games with you, you lost your shit, and you were sure about you finally made yourself mad because of your platonic interest in Kyungsoo, but even if God himself would appear in the bus in order to stop you, that would be a fruitless attempt.
You held Kyungsoo’s hand.
If he wanted to feel you by his side, you could not refuse.
You never refuse Kyungsoo.
How could you?
He was the protagonist of your secret dreams, fantasies and your goddam powerful imagination.
He was your gazelle and you were chasing him since the first day you met.
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willowgast · 3 years
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tag game time!
i was tagged by the lovely @contre-qui, with the aim of tagging nine people to learn about their interests - i'm unlikely to find that many people myself but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it! going under the cut because this is a pretty long(ish) one.
music!
fave genre a little bit of everything but right now especially medieval folk & pop rock
fave artist a strange mixture of måneskin, kraftklub, siames, cavetown, and rainbow kitten surprise
fave song hard choice, but probably 'brothers' by siames & eddy capparelli
most listened to song recently either 'coraline' by måneskin or 'king orfeo' from the child ballads
song currently stuck in your head 'happy pills' by weathers
five fave lyrics oh boy, this is gonna take some thought.
"called to the devil and the devil said / hey! why you been calling this late? / it's like 2a.m. and the bars all close at ten in hell, that's a rule i made / anyway, you say you're too busy saving everybody else to save yourself / and you don't want no help, oh well / that's the story to tell" ('it's called: freefall' by rainbow kitten surprise)
"today i coo, today i caw / i have a pistol party and i kill 'em all / i think i might be scared / of the man and the men with their hands inside / and the women, oh, the women all they do is cry / and i, well i lose my mind" ('little pistol' by mother mother)
"so did you pack your bag, or did somebody pack it for you? / take me to the sad, sad party that you're bound to / whether you're a 'have-not' or a 'have', i got a question / are you living dead, or is this some kind of possession?' ('blast doors' by everything everything)
"but what if i run out of fertiliser? / what if the clouds run out of rain? what if lemon boy won't grow no longer? what if beaches dry of sugar cane?" ('lemon boy' by cavetown)
"now they tell you that you're their muse / yeah, they're so inspired / but where were they when they called your name / and they lit the fire? / when the voices came, you cut your hair / but you're stilled confused" ('joan of arc' by arcade fire)
books!
fave book genre fantasy all the way
fave writer bernardine evaristo, leigh bardugo, madeline miller
fave book oh dear, here we go. 'circe' by madeline miller, 'six of crows' and 'crooked kingdom' by leigh bardugo, 'girl, woman, other' by bernardine evaristo, 'good omens' by neil gaiman & terry pratchett, 'the raven cycle' series by maggie stiefvater, 'oranges are not the only fruit' by jeanette winterson, and a whole lot of old norse literature of dubious authorship (but especially 'gisla saga' and 'hrafnkels saga freysgoða', and pretty much all of the eddic poems in the volsung cycle)
fave book series it's a tie between leigh bardugo's grishaverse novels and maggie stiefvater's 'the raven cycle'
comfort book 'the secret kingdom' by jenny nimmo
rainy day book any of my norse books, sagas or poetry
fave characters nina zenik in the grishaverse, ronan lynch in 'the raven cycle', gisli in 'gisla saga' (not sure if that counts as a character or historical figure, dependent on perspective...?), and circe in, y'know, 'circe'
five quotes from your fave books?
"i thought once that gods are the opposite of death, but i see now they are more dead than anything, for they are unchanging, and can hold nothing in their hands" ('circe' by madeline miller)
"'spreader of swords, it is your own sons' / corpse-bloody hearts you've chewed up with honey, / proud man, you've consumed dead men's meat, / eating it as ale-dainties, sending it to the high seat' [...] with the point of a blade she gave the bed a bloody drink, / with a hel-keen hand, and set the dogs free; / she woke the servants, and in front of the hall-door / she flung a burning brand: she paid them back for her brothers. / to the fire she gave everyone who was inside, / who'd come from myrkheim after murdering gunnar and his men; / the ancient timbers fell, the temples smoked, / the buildings burned of budli's kin, and the shield-maids inside; / their lives stemmed, sinking into hot flames." (gudrun avenges her brother in 'atlakviða', a poem in the old norse poetic and elder eddas)
"you aren't a flower, you're every blossom in the wood blooming at once. you are a tidal wave. you're a stampede. you are overwhelming." ('crooked kingdom' by leigh bardugo)
"from the passenger seat, ronan began to swear at adam. it was a long, involved swear, using every forbidden word possible, often in compound-word form. as adam stared at his lap, penitent, he mused that there was something musical about the ronan when he swore, a careful and loving precision to the way he fit the words together, a black-painted poetry. it was far less hateful sounding than when he didn't swear." ('the raven cycle' by maggie stiefvater)
"but where was god now, with heaven full of astronauts, and the lord overthrown? i miss god. i miss the company of someone utterly loyal. i still don't think of god as my betrayer. the servants of god, yes, but servants by their very nature betray. i miss god who was my friend. i don't even know if god exists, but i do know that if god is your emotional role model, very few human relationships will match up to it. i have an idea that one day it might be possible, i thought once it had become possible, and that glimpse has set me wandering, trying to find the balance between earth and sky. if the servants hadn't rushed in and parted us, i might have been disappointed, might have snatched off the white samite to find a bowl of soup." ('oranges are not the only fruit' by jeanette winterson)
hardcover or paperback | buy or rent | standalone novels or book series | ebook or physical copy | reading at night or during the day | reading at home or in nature | listening to music while reading or reading in silence | reading in order or reading the ending first | reliable or unreliable narrator | realism or fantasy | one or multiple POVS | judging by the covers or by the summary | rereading or reading just once
tv and movies!
fave tv/movie genre fantasy, travel/road trip & comedy
fave movie the secret life of walter mitty, supernova, any and all ghibli films, scott pilgrim vs. the world, lord of the rings, the how to train your dragon trilogy
comfort movie the lion king (original), how to train your dragon, from up on poppy hill, kiki's delivery service
movie you watch every year elf, howl's moving castle, love simon
fave tv show she-ra and the princesses of power, skam, bee and puppycat (i guess more of a web series than a tv show?), adventure time, the it crowd
comfort tv show adventure time
most rewatched tv show skam, every october without fail
five favourite characters catra (she-ra and the princesses of power), sana (skam original), marceline (adventure time), moss (the it crowd), inej (shadow and bone netflix adaptation)
tv shows or movie | short seasons (8-13 episodes) or full seasons (22 episodes or more) | one episode a week or bingeing | one season or multiple seasons | one part or saga | half hour or one hour long episodes | subtitles on or off | rewatching or watching just once | downloads or watches online
tagging (absolutely no pressure, this is a pretty long one!): @crowcaves, @the-obsidian-soul, @natscbi, @somehowmags, @gabrilearnelle, @clockwords, @starsspace... and that's it, that's as close to nine as i'm getting, but if anyone else just feels like doing it then feel free to consider yourself tagged!
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