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siempre-bucky · 2 years

Note

ahhhh yassss Kristiiiiiii congrats on hitting 8k, you deserve it and the absolute world! I love you so friggin much!!

okay okay so for your lil autumn celebration (which I am in love with the idea btw) can I please request prompt 11 from the the third list "did you bring a jacket?" / "no" / "here, take mine." with my husband ofc, I just need that man’s jacket to swallow me whole ya know

thank you bby, ily, and I can’t wait to read what you write!!!

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

summary: it's supposed to be hot in Texas so it completely blind sighted you when you got freezing cold during your sunset horse ride with Jake. Good thing he always comes prepared.

wc: 677

a/n: Hope I love you with every fiber of my being! thank you for always being there for me

It was still hot in October. At least, when the sliding doors opened in the airport you stepped out into a simmer instead of a rolling boil. You could tell it was still daylight in Austin as you napped, the golden light pouring in through one of the windows in the guest room, little beads of sweat forming on the back of your neck yet you still refused to remove the burnt orange duvet.

“Darlin,’” Jake whispered, his strong hand on your hip gently shaking you awake.

“I’m up,” you yawn. The bed dipped as Jake climbed in, jean-clad knees creating creases into the leaf-patterned sheets. Augusta Seresin loved a theme, every room (if she could help it) in the Seresin Ranch was decked out for the fall season. His nose dragged along your jaw, followed by his warm lips.

“Ma wants us to take Dolly and Reba out,” he told you in between kisses. Rolling over, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss. His skin was as warm as the room, only certain spots on his face were cooled by the blasting air conditioner.

“One more,” you mumbled.

Jake rolled his eyes and kissed you again, stifling your giggles, “One more.”

—

You were confused when he opened the front door, cool air caressing your face as you walked out onto the porch. This was Texas? Or you assumed it was supposed to be hot all the time. The t-shirt and jeans you wore would be enough, you didn’t think it would get any colder.

Jake lovingly prepared the horses, talking to them as if they were his kids as he placed their saddles on their backs, sneaking them the extra sugar cubes his mother disapproved of. “You’re gonna wear that?” you chuckled as you mounted Reba, getting comfortable. Jake had grabbed his thick jean jacket, the sherpa inside always kept him warm in the winter.

“You gonna wear that?” his eyes darted teasingly at your lack of layers.

You rolled your eyes and headed out of the barn, the sun beginning to set. “Come on, cowboy,” you hummed.

You rode in comfortable silence, his jade green eyes looking over at you once or twice while you were busy looking at the trees and their changing colors. He wished he had that camera you had gotten him for his birthday, able to capture the prettiest person he’d ever seen in the place he loved the most, with the horse he loved the most.

“I feel you staring,” you said evenly, hiding the smile.

“Do you blame me?” He retorted. You looked over and shook your head, no longer trying to hide the childlike smile.

The air had gotten colder as you got further down the path, the cool caress turning into a chill nipping at your nose. The cold created goosebumps on your skin, making you shiver. You let out a little grunt of discomfort, Jake looked over at you instantly. “Cold?”

“No,” you huffed, lying through your chattering teeth “This is Texas. It’s not supposed to be cold here.”

“We’re not a desert, sweetheart,” he snickers. “Did you bring a jacket?” he asked, it was more for his satisfaction. He knew you didn’t bring one.

“No…” your words trailed off.

“Here,” he passed you the jacket, resting it in front of you, “take mine.”

He pulled a little on the reins and got close beside you, letting go to shrug off his jacket. “You need this,” you tried to decline.

“Baby, you need this more than I do.”

“Jake.”

“It smells like me.” You paused, body stilling as you looked down at the coat. Damn, he got you there. You didn’t look at him as you put it on, the warm fabric shielding you from the cold. Pressing your nose into the sherpa-lined collar, you inhaled his scent: spicy, warm, with just a hint of hay. “Better?”

You hummed and turned your attention to him, “Much. Thank you.”

The aviator winked and clicked his tongue, Dolly moving on ahead.

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin blurb #hangman x reader #hangman x you #top gun #top gun maverick #siempre buckys 8k blurb weekend

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sprayio · 2 years

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How Genshin Boys tuck you in P2

Including: Albedo, Kazuha, Venti

Pairings: Gn!Reader x character (seperate)

Warnings: None! SFW fluff <3

Genre: Fluff,comfort, tiny bit of crack?

Music recommendation: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gJgHSLAxXYc&list=RD9YgmMJJ34k4&index=6

A/N: dedicated to my lovely chimken @galaxytastes who always supports my artistic/writing endeavours. If you’re ever feeling apprehension at night-time and cannot sleep, I hope this reaches you and you think of me. Ily 🥺

Albedo

“but it’s for an experime-”

“No Albedo, you’re not bringing a frog into bed with us.”

“:(”

After he’s done sulking, he likes to stroke your hair

Kiss each and every fingertip, with delicate, princely kisses

Bed time stories? Nah, never heard of those. Albedo only does ‘random trivia no one knows’ in this house

Before you know it, you’re drifting off to his theories on giant, Liyuean mice, and mutant friendly slimes

Smooths out the creases in your forehead, eases out the tautness of your temples

You can feel the smile on his lips as he kisses his forehead, and fits the comforter just above your neck

“Goodnight, my wonder.”

Kazuha

everyone on the alcor HATES you guys

y’all will not shut up 💀 it’s 3am and you guys are still talking

fr put teenagers at a sleepover to shame

But when you’re with Kazuha, there’s so much to talk about

In fact, there’s never enough time you could be spending with him <3

drowsy, bed time haikus, where you guys are just taking turns adding words😌

games of 20 questions are common!

Just silly questions. “Can you do a cartwheel?” “Have you ever found a four-leaf-clover?”

He gives you a sleepy laugh, tucking your loose hair behind your ear

“Dove, we’ve already long past 20 questions.”

He kisses your eyelids shut, and draws you into his hard chest- fitting like a puzzle piece. Sneaky mf 🤨

“I’m not going anywhere, my dove. So shut your eyes, and in the morning, we’ll talk, laugh, and be together, all over again.”

Venti

I wish he would just stfu for one second, silly bastard never lets you get any sleep 😩

some days he POUNCES on you like a feral rat

Or some days, he clings to you like a littol koala

ahjjajjdhahah he’s totally not letting his apprehension of nighttime manifest as hyperactivity wdym wdym <333

Archons aren’t designed to sleep. He can choose to, but of course-

everytime he sees your eyes close before him,

and you still to silence,

he can’t help his heart beating inexplicably fast

the only reason you know is because you caught him holding your hand to his forehead one time, and you have never seen him look so distressed🥺

So before bed, from now, you have to give him a lot of kisses and reassurance (he’s none the wiser you caught him like that).

Forget this title, YOU’RE doing the tucking in.

He may be years of experience ahead of you in the musical arts, but rest assured you will be the one singing him to sleep everyday

“mm...come here, windbloom... night..”

☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇ Support me on Kofi ❤️

If you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or commenting! Reminder my asks are open :)

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deerixiie · 4 years

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description: one by one, love stole the people oikawa cared about the most. it stole him, too.

pairings: oikawa tooru x fem!reader

w/c: 1.6k

genre/warning: angst, hanahaki au, major character death, mentions of blood, body horror?

a/n: this is a one day late birthday present for the wonderful @wanderynn!! rae ily don’t kill me for writing oikawa angst for your birthday

Oikawa was nervous.

Which was odd, because he had been in situations like this before. Interviews required being asked questions he was expected to answer, after all.

But those were interviews. This was a therapy session.

Oikawa’s gaze dropped down at his hands, slightly worn from years of slapping a volleyball with his entire strength. Those same hands that had slapped a ball with spine-chilling intensity were the same hands that gently caressed your cheek, the same hands that easily intertwined with yours, the same hands that tilted your chin up with every kiss he placed on your lips.

Oikawa’s eyes started to burn.

The therapist seated in front of him continued to tap away on the computer, her face devoid of any emotion. She seemed to be satisfied with whatever was behind the screen and swiveled around to face him, a disgustingly fake smile on her face.

(Oikawa would know, his smiles were fake as well. Slightly strained, a little too bright to be genuine.)

“So, Oikawa-san,” the therapist said, making eye contact with him.

“Oikawa is fine.”

“Oh, alright. So, Oikawa, how are you feeling?”

Tired. Numb. Odd. Guilty.

“Fine.” The fake smile came easily.

“Ah, okay. Is this your first experience with Hanahaki?”

No, of course it wasn’t. He was told that being well-known meant people will fall in love with him. “It’s not your fault, Tooru,” they said. “Some people fall in love very easily.” Oikawa remembered snorting, thinking that no one could possibly fall in love with him just because he was charming and good-looking.

He was wrong.

(It started with Ume, the bubbly girl in his second year of middle school. Then Riko and Akika in his first year of highschool, one other girl he didn’t remember the name of in his second year, and Mizuki in his third.

Only three of them had settled on getting amnesia and forgetting Oikawa entirely instead of dying. The adoring gazes he was once plagued with became empty stares.

But Riko didn’t. Oikawa couldn’t bring himself to her funeral; he knew the only stares he would get would be accusatory ones.)

The therapist continued. “And I mean, not just from being a celebrity, but with people close to you.”

Oikawa suddenly found it difficult to breath. He saw the flash of spiky dark hair, of rude nicknames and harsh shoulder slaps.

(“I’ll be alright.”

“Iwa, you’re dying!”

“I said I’ll be alright.”

Oikawa was in Argentina when Iwaizumi died. “He had a severe coughing fit on the street that made him pass out,” they told him. “He was dead before they could put him in an ambulance.”

Oikawa cried for hours.)

“Yes,” Oikawa said quietly. “A close friend of mine died from it.”

“Oh.” The therapist’s smile faded away. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“It’s fine,” he said, flashing his brightest of smiles.

The therapist’s expression became more serious. “Dealing with that much loss must be hard.”

Oikawa didn’t respond. What does he even say to that?

“Do you want to tell me about them?”

About Iwaizumi? No, about you. Oikawa’s smile was smaller, obviously less genuine. “No, not really.”

“Well, uhm…” the therapist drummed her fingers against her thigh. “Were you two close?”

“I’m not sure.” It wasn’t a lie. The lines between the two of you had been gray and blurred. Were the intoxicated kisses at two in the morning really love, or just drunken lust? Being tangled up under the covers as you lazily slept on top of the other wasn’t necessarily romantic, was it? You held his hand because you were afraid of losing him in the crowd, not because you loved him, right?

(Wrong.)

“Even if we were friends, we were closer than most friends were.”

“Ah.” The therapist typed something on her computer. “How did you find out?”

“Come again?”

“When she was diagnosed. How did you find out it was you she was in love with?”

“Oh.” Oikawa looked out the window. It seemed to be on the cusp of fall and winter, bare branches and freezing temperatures but no snow.

He found himself smiling. You hated the snow.

“She told me a couple hours before she died.”

The therapist sucked in an audible breath. “What was that like?”

Oikawa swallowed slowly. “We were sitting together, watching a movie or something like that. She had a coughing fit.”

(He remembered how weak you looked pressed up next to him, your knees drawn to your chest, your eyes hollow and empty, your body thin and frail. Your coughing fits were violent, more violent than most. Tissues and handkerchiefs followed you wherever you went, stained with shriveled, bloody petals.)

“She told me it was me. I didn’t understand her at first, but she was saying it was me over and over. And then I understood. Six hours later, she died.”

“Is that all?”

No. “Yes.”

“So you didn’t really have much time to think about it before she passed, but it must have made you feel guilty. That’s why you’re here today.”

Oikawa nodded.

“You shouldn’t blame yourself, Oikawa.”

That’s what they all said. But he couldn’t help it, could he? He saw you sprawled on the ground in a pool of crimson, serene white petals decorating the floor like it was some sort of aesthetic arrangement. You looked so unbelievably peaceful, finally freed from the death vice of your unrequited love for him.

Love for him.

Oikawa was blind. He was desperate. He was so desperate for affection that he accepted your kisses and touches with open arms, disregarding the fact that you could be in love with him. Pure, inhumane lust drew him to you, trailing his hands down your arms, pressing his lips against your skin. He was a monster.

“Oikawa, I take it that you’ve heard of PHH?”

(PHH - (Purple Hyacinth Hanahaki) A branch of hanahaki originating from guilt over the death of a loved one; usually one who had died a hanahaki-related death from being in love with them.”

Oikawa’s nose had wrinkled reading the definition off of his health textbook. “That can happen?” He asked, glancing over at Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi shrugged and continued to fill out his homework. “Love is confusing.”

“If it’s this confusing I’m never going to fall in love!” Oikawa huffed. “Love is stupid!”

“That’s what you’ll say now, Stupidkawa. I bet you’re falling in love first.”

“Hey, Iwa-chan, not true!”

The world was an ironic, cruel place.)

Oikawa’s heart pounded in his chest, an ominous countdown. (Countdown to a diagnosis? Countdown to his death?) He nodded once. “I know about it.”

The therapist drums her nails on her desk, echoing his already racing heart. A sympathetic look passed on her face. “You might be at risk for that, Oikawa.”

Oikawa found his eyes drifting over to the window once more. He spotted a lone orange leaf clinging to the end of a tree branch, persisting even as the wind violently shook the branch.

(Your body shaking violently as you clung to Oikawa’s arm, whispering “it’s you” over and over, a mantra that would haunt him even in death.

Death. It was coming sooner now, wasn’t it?)

Another violent shake, and the leaf spiraled to the ground.

(Ghostly empty eyes, mouth slightly parted as blood dribbled from the corner. Your arms were wrapped around nothing, as if in those last moments of life you were holding something tight to your chest, a last connection to the mortal world.

Oikawa wished he was there. No—no he didn’t. He wouldn’t bear to see the light fading from your eyes as he held you in his arms.)

He closed his eyes. “I know.”

He found himself back on the court two days later.

“He always finds a way to come back to the court.” His coach had said that once. Highschool Oikawa had reveled in the praise, reveled in his devotion to a sport.

Now it felt shallow. How dare he be more devoted to a sport than the own two people who motivated him to even start playing? How dare he be blinded by the rush of dopamine a successful serve gave him? How dare he not support his closest friend when he was nearing his end? How dare he not notice your unyielding love for him? How dare he how dare he how dare he-

Oikawa swiveled on his heel and threw the volleyball onto the wall. It bounced off with a satisfying “thwack” and landed back into his hands.

Oikawa sighed.

His thumbs traced slow circles against the leather. Soothing. Calmi-

(His thumb rubbed a gentle circle into your cheek. “Thank you,” he murmured, his breath hot on your face.

Your lips quirked into a smile. “For what?”

“Mm,” he moved forward and closed the distance between you greedily, encapturing you in another kiss. “It doesn’t matter.”)

Oikawa threw the ball up and took a step forward, shifting his weight into his feet for the jump.

A violent cough tore itself from his throat.

Oikawa collapsed onto his knees, his hand pressed into his mouth. The coughs were aggressive, sending violent tremors throughout his entire body. His throat hurt.

(“Yeah, it hurts,” Iwaizumi muttered, quietly rubbing his throat. “It hurts like hell.”)

(“It hurts.” Your voice was a ghost whisper in the quiet hums of the night. “Tooru, it hurts.”)

The coughs subsided, leaving behind an eerie sort of silence. Oikawa removed his hand from his mouth.

Ah, he thought. I should’ve expected this.

A vivid purple petal dotted with crimson sat in the palm of his hand. He closed his fists around the flower petal, his eyes stinging with tears.

Love was harsh words and sore throats. Love was drunken lust in the ungodly hours of night. Love was confusing. Love was stupid.

Love, it seemed, was everyone’s demise.

-purple hyacinths represent sorrow or regret.

-white tulips represent forgiveness.

taglist: @joliechuchoter @pablopascal @yn-tingz @vannerz @strawberriimilkshake @sunarashi @hajiimes @tttournesolll @hajibee @semiis @kageyuji (send an ask/dm if you want to be removed, fill out the form here to be added!)

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angst-fairygodmother · 4 years

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Okay I’m currently moving and going through old trinkets and stuff to see what to get rid of and I just now really would love a Ben Hargreeves x reader fic super fluffy going through old things of yours or his and just generally being super cute 😭 ily!

A/N: So this is a Ben didn’t die AU because that was the only way I could think of for “cute” not “sad.” Also, as someone who just moved herself, good luck on your move darling, may it be as smooth and frustration free as possible. I hope you enjoy it! :) Word Count: 1702 Content Warnings: Major cheese-factor? But other than that nothing

“I’m glad we decided to get a place together,” you said, leaning against Ben’s shoulder, looking around your empty apartment.

Yours, the two of you. When you had started discussing moving in with one another, maybe a year into your relationship, you considered just adding him onto your lease, which still had several months left on it (he did not consider asking you to move in with him, because he’d been living with Vanya, and Klaus when he showed up and couldn’t wait to get out). But eventually, you two had settled on starting fresh, somewhere you had picked out together, a place for both of you to build your lives together. It had been a challenge at first, but in the end, you knew it would be worth the effort to create a home together instead of merely adopting one of you into the other’s preexistent reality.

“Me too,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple and smiling. “And I’ll be even more glad once we get some stuff in here.”

“Y/N, what about these?” Ben called to you, pulling out a battered black shoebox from the back of your closet. “You didn’t put this pair with the rest of your shoes?”

Confused what he was talking about, you set aside the plates you had been wrapping in newspaper and made your way to the bedroom.

“What are you talking ab—oh…” your eyes fell on the box in question and you felt a hot blush creep across your face and down your neck. “That’s um…”

Ben’s confusion at your discomfort only grew when the box rattled slightly, producing sounds of rustling paper rather than shoes.

“You can just ignore that. It’s just some old…I don’t even know why I kept…” you sighed in defeat as his curiosity got the better of him and he opened the box.

The box, which had laid buried in your closet for long that you’d nearly forgotten about it, was full of old newspaper and magazine clippings about the Umbrella Academy in their hay-day.

“I, uh, I can explain that?”

Ben laughed, grin wide and surprisingly nonjudgmental as he picked up the faded pages in gentle fingers, particularly when he came across one of a teen magazine quiz which said your soulmate was Diego and you had drawn frowning faces around it and marked it ‘WRONG’ in blue sharpie.

“Aw, babe, I had no idea you were such a fan,” he teased. “My brother will be so sad I stole his soulmate.”

“Yeah, I mean I guess I was into the whole Umbrella Academy thing as a kid…lots of people were…” you shrugged, hoping that your nonchalance would keep him from pressing further. “It’s nothing to make a big deal of.”

“Aw, hey, Y/N, I’m not trying to embarrass you,” he said, setting the box aside to come over and rest his hands on your shoulders. “I think it’s cute.”

You shoved his chest lightly, hearing the laughter in his voice. “Shut up.”

All of your things finally packed, you and Ben made your way to the apartment he shared with his siblings, which they had cleared out of for the day so you could have more space to work.

“Hey Ben,” you said, gesturing to an old-fashioned hatbox on one of his shelves. “I didn’t know you were a hat guy?”

You wished you could reach the box yourself so you could take him down and tease him properly for the contents the way he had had for your shoebox. Instead, you had to wait for him to come and be tall for you.

“Oh that. I took the box from the Academy. Although I think the hat was as likely to have been Pogo’s as it was Dad’s,” he explained.

“So if it’s not a hat, what’s in there?” you asked, practically vibrating with curiosity.

The box tucked under one arm, he pulled you closer with the other into a hug and pressed a lingering kiss to your cheek, before moving to sit in on the corner of his bed (piled high with the books which had been hiding this mystery box and which you were supposed to be packing at the moment), motioning for you to join him. Eagerly, you bounced across the small room to flop next to him on the floor, making him laugh as you nearly collapsed into his lap and he had to quickly lift the box above his head to keep you from crushing it.

“Well, it’s not quite the same as yours, but it turns out we were both hanging onto some things,” he explained almost shyly, carefully wiggling off the snug lid of the box.

“Oh really?” you couldn’t help the smirk that crept across your face.

The first thing he pulled out was a photobooth filmstrip. In the four little boxes were your smiling faces, your silly faces, and one where you had leaned over and kissed him, his eyes wide with shock, all in sepia, perfect moments frozen in time.

“That was our first date,” you said with surprise. “Our first official one anyway, unless you count you refusing to let go of my hand until you had escorted me safely out of the building when those lunatics decided a coffee shop was the best place to hold up for quick cash.”

“Well I couldn’t let them catch wind of priceless treasure that slipped through their fingers, and my siblings had everything under control.”

You rolled your eyes at his corniness, leaning your chin on his knee to see what else was in the box. It was full to the brim, practically overflowing with little bits of memorabilia from your time together: a newspaper clipping about the day you met, ticket stubs for concerts and movies, pictures you had taken together or of each other with his polaroid camera, love letters you’d sent each other and notes you’d left when one of you had to leave before the other woke or had something important coming up that you might need a little extra encouragement for. It was like your whole lives together so far were in that hat box and you felt your eyes welling up at the thought. It was so much better than your embarrassing childhood crush.

“You know, I thought you had only agreed to go to that carnival with me because you felt like you owed me for saving you or something,” he added softly as he leafed through.

You rolled your head to one side, cheek against his leg, so you could look up at him, sensing the insecurity in his voice.

“Ben, baby…” you sighed.

Even now, after all of this time, he still seemed to think that part of you was only there out of pity, seemed to expect you to flinch away in horror at his abilities. You knew that it had nothing to do with you and everything to do with the way he and his siblings were raised and exploited by Reginald Hargreeves, but still your heart ached every time you sensed him withdrawing into those dark places.

“I know, Y/N, you don’t have to say it,” he said, guessing at how your sentence was going to finish based on your repeated past conversations about it.

“I don’t think you do,” you lifted your head up, sitting back to better look him in the eye. “I was stunned that you even noticed me let alone asked me out, because you are incredible. And I don’t just mean the superhero thing, although that is pretty sweet,” you face scrunched up and you grinned at him before sobering. “If I was only in it for pity or for fame or because I owed you, I would have bailed a long time ago, not be getting an apartment with you. You’re stuck with me. Because I love you Ben Hargreeves.”

He set the box in his hands aside, pulling you close so that he could kiss you, tender and sweet and so rawly, desperately full of love that it threatened to overwhelm you. You folded your arms over his shoulders drawing him in even more. When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, gently carding your fingers through his hair as he nuzzled his nose against yours.

“We should really get back to packing,” you said after sitting like that for a moment, more than a little regretful that you had to break the moment and return you both to reality.

“Wait, there’s one more thing I wanted to show you from the box,” he said sheepishly, pulling out a generic looking crumpled piece of lined paper.

“What’s this?” you asked, reaching for it.

Nervously, he handed it to you and you began to read. Almost immediately, your hand came up to cover your mouth as tears welled up in them. This wasn’t a letter, so much as the draft of a speech with words and lines and entire paragraphs crossed out, some scribbled over completely and others with a single mark through them and new words squeezed into the cramped space above them. Finally, at the bottom, circled in blue ink: Y/N, you’re incredible. Will you go out with me?

“Oh Ben,” you murmured, clutching the paper carefully to your chest, trying your hardest not to cry.

“I was so nervous to ask you out,” he explained, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “And Diego kept giving me shit about how you were way out of my league, which definitely didn’t help. But for some reason you said yes, and I thought I might die, I was so happy.”

“So I was thinking…” you said one night, wrapping your arms around Ben as he stood in the doorway of your new living room.

“Uh-oh,” he laughed, mirroring your hold.

“We have that big open wall-space over the sofa, right?”

He nodded, looking at you, eyebrows knit together in curiosity and confusion.

“We also have two boxes of stuff that would make a really nice collage…we could maybe put them there? Sort of a wall of memories?”

His eyes sparkled as he turned to you fully. “I love it.”

#listen with me you get angst or you get sap #I hope this meets what you were looking for #Not-dead Ben is hard to write for...#Ben Hargreeves x reader #The Umbrella Academy fic

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girlofmanyfandoms · 4 years

Text

The Angel and The Siren

A/n: Based off of anon prompt that I’ll post separately so y’all can see that! Ily anon, that prompt was just *chef’s kiss*. Also I got a lotta stuff to do, so idk if this is good or not (it’s not)-

Word count: 2000

Warnings: idk mate, executive dysfunction kicked in and this happened

Writing taglist: @everyonehasthoughts @imaramennoodle @bookwyrminspiration @holesinmyfalseconfidence @percabetn @an-absolute-travesty @linhamon-roll @holesinmyfalseconfidence @linhamon2 @a-lonely-tatertot @loverofallthingssmart @vibing-in-the-void @clearlykeefitz

Linh dozed off to the side before jolting back to life. Marella shot her a concerned look, but she waved it off to the side. She had to fight through this. Sophie’s lips were moving, but all she heard was the distant calls of the wind mixing with the cries of dawn. Off in the distance, she saw a flareodon glide from the forest to the ocean, it’s beak gracing the water just enough to cause a beautiful rippling effect. Yet still, the colors blended and blended together, the world nothing but a watercolor painting fading away.

“Linh!”

“I’m alive,” she blurted out.

“Yeah, I almost couldn’t tell,” Tam muttered, grunting as he helped her up from her near-fall. “You nearly passed out.”

“I’m fine,” Linh reassured him, putting a great deal of her weight on her brother’s shoulder. “I just... need a breath of fresh air.”

“You should probably head home,” Tam suggested, though it was obvious he was restraining himself. “I’ll update you when I get there.”

Linh had an amused look playing on her face. “Tam, I’ll be alright, I’m just tired. I’ll take a walk and see how I feel, okay?”

“But-”

“I’ll go with her,” Marella offered eagerly. She flushed, and began to correct herself. “Just to make sure she’s safe.”

Linh’s face lit up and she grabbed her hand, grinning from ear to ear. Her guardian angel had arrived. “We’ll be safe!” Marella called before dragging Linh out of the house and down the porch of the vacation home.

They drew closer together, Linh examining Marella’s features in full. Oh, she was an angel alright. Her eyes held a sort of fiery determination that dared anyone to approach her, yet showed the upmost sympathy for those who struggled like her. For those who were weak and beaten down before they were strong and built up. Sunlight cascaded onto her, making her blonde locks swirl through the air like flames from a newly made campfire, warming everyone around her. Like a halo.

Marella blushed and glanced to the side. “Is there something on my face?” Linh shook her head and leaned on her a bit, pulling her into a side hug as they approached the shoreline of the tropical island hideout. “You just have a pretty one.”

Marella scoffed. “You’re talking?”

“Yeah, I am.” Linh waded into the water, letting the tides bring her underwater, just to the point where her face was above water level, hair floating around her like thin sheets of sea foam. She sat up slowly, and started swimming farther from shore, stopping to beckon Marella. Follow me, the gesture called. The beautiful siren waited patiently, a strand of hair in her face with her head at a slight tilt making her look both shy and innocent, and sly but deadly. The angel was entranced, so she kicked off her boots and followed without hesitation.

When Marella got close enough, Linh held her by the waist, ordering the water to surround them like walls. She pulled Marella close and guided her in a sort of slow dance, letting the tides carry them. Linh’s movement were fluid, and Marella followed her lead, trying to focus on mimicking her movements rather than her heart threatening to explode in her chest.

Deep breaths, she thought to herself. She’s just doing this to keep Tam and the others off her back. Linh hummed, resting her forehead on Marella’s shoulder. “I wish there was something we could do about this.”

Marella panicked. She couldn’t have meant what she thought, or rather hoped, she meant. “This meaning...”

She broke their link, bobbing up and down with the waves, gesturing around her in a vague, fragmented manner. “All of this. The Neverseen, the Treaty with the other Intelligent Species, my parents, the matchmaking system. Everything. I didn’t ask for this. I just wanted to live my life, just like everyone else. But now the adults are cowards and force a group of teenagers, two of which were banished from their society for years, to save the world. I just-” She paused, her voice cracking as she looked towards the sky to blink back tears. “I just want to be a kid. Is that too much to ask?”

Even Linh, with her sweet and innocent front, was breaking. She was crushed, and broken, and in pain, and it tore Marella’s heart into pieces. “I’m so sorry. I-if you don’t mind me asking, what was that like? Like, what happened before you got banished?”

“I was a kid,” Linh smiles sadly in reminiscence. “An unhappy one, but a kid nevertheless. But when I got to Exillium... I became a monster.”

“You’re no monster.” Marella frowned. “And didn’t the group say that they feared ‘The Shade’ because he was protecting ‘The Hydrokinetic’?”

She chuckled in response. “That’s what they wanted you to think. The others were scared of Tam, definitely, but not before they were scared of me, and not for the same reason.”

Marella raised her eyebrows, daring to swim a little closer and lean on her a bit. “Care to elaborate?”

“I guess it would help to let something out.” Linh bit her lip in thought. “And... if there’s anyone I would want to tell first, it’d be you.”

She breathed for a moment, her action syncing with the swells of the ocean. “I got banished a week after the floods. We were going to Councillor Terik to see if there was any potential that would ‘save us from our fate.’ Terik said that he wanted us to meet with Quinlin and Livvy first, to view our records and check if we had any medical issues. We also had to go shopping for clothes, makeup, accessories, anything to make the two of us look different, like we were born separately. But since we both manifested relatively young, and we hadn’t gotten into Foxfire yet, we couldn’t control ourselves.”

“And that’s when the flood happened?”

“No,” she laughed. “If it were that simple, we wouldn’t have been banished. No, what happened was a combination of neglect, stress, panic, and misfortune.”

“So...”

“So something wasn’t supposed to be there, and we freaked out, and our powers crashed together and ripped the barrier open even further than it was getting.”

“It was already breaking?” Marella asked.

“It was old,” Linh shrugged, though from the way she was examining her damp clothes for lint, it was clear that the siren had told a white lie. She crossed her arms and looked down, presumably in guilt and shame, though most likely to fight off the wisps of pain and trauma that clung to her with a vengeance, like a ghost of who she once was.

The angel was conflicted, but decided to take up her own strategy. She extended her hand. “Let’s get farther away from here. See what the jungle has to offer.”

Linh hesitantly accepted it, the walls descending slowly, soon at peace with the rest of their surroundings. A pulsing of emotions ran through her, a symphony from a past life. It confused her, but despite the vapor clouding her mind, she was able to make one clear thought.

Her hands fit perfectly in mine. Linh shook her head vigorously to clear it of those irrational ideas. She’d learned the hard way what getting close to someone cost. “What are you thinking then?”

“You said you’re stressed, right? Like you can’t be free?”

She nodded, eyes narrowing.

“Let me show you what freedom looks like.” Marella let Linh guide the two of them to shore, releasing all of the water trapped in their clothes and hair back into the environment. Doing an awkward hop to get her boots back on, she raced into the jungle, using her momentum to launch herself onto the nearest tree, managing to get her arms around the lowest branch. She swung her body up and let one arm hold her, using her other hand to aid her in letting out an ear-piercing summoning whistle.

In a moment, the flareodon that had been circling the island landed on Marella’s arm like a hawk. Marella waved Linh over as it preened. “See? He’s free to go wherever he likes and do whatever he likes when he wants to do it; he’s got no calls of the sea binding him to a workbench and no looming duties of the hearth to dedicate his life to. And what does that make him?”

“A freelancer.”

“Free, Linh. That’s the key word. He’s free. And you will be too. You just have to have faith.”

“I wish I had that.” She sunk down against the tree opposite to hers, fiddling with a ridiculously large leaf that had fallen from a nearby plant. “And maybe there is some for you. But I’m a twin, and a previously banished one at that, and my life will be dictated by some stupid matchmaker trying to match me up with a stupid ‘powerful’ man that I’ll never love!”

The flareodon was startled by the quick escalation of her volume and took off. Marella, however, drew closer. “Is there a reason you know that you’ll never love that man?”

Quit the wishful thinking Marella! But still, her heart held hope.

“It’s based purely off of genetics,” she whispered, her voice betraying her.

“Linh, come on, I know it’s something deeper,” Marella insisted, bringing the girl to her feet. She diverted her eyes, refusing to even look up. “Answer me, please.”

“You know, you’ve got a lot of fire in your soul, Mare,” Linh murmured. “It’s admirable. But I think back and I analyze and there’s not a single thing like that about me. All I do is pretend to be an innocent little girl just to drag people down with me. There’s nothing admirable about that.”

“Hey, no one talks about my Linh like that, got it?”

My Linh? their minds screamed in unison. On one end, Marella’s cringe scorched at the edges of her mind. On the other, Linh was drowning in the overwhelming feeling she never dared to feel. Hope. Yet again, in the distance, she heard the wind throwing itself upon the raging waves. Though they weren’t raging anymore. They were systematically crashing together, a docile beat not so foreign to her combining with the whistling of the tree leaves to form the melody she longed to sing all along. Home. This is it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable-”

Linh tossed her leaf to the side, standing up with newfound confidence. “You didn’t. You don’t have to apologize for anything. In fact, I should thank you.”

Marella laughed nervously. “There’s nothing to thank me for.” She looked around for a change of topic. “It’s getting late, you should head home. Tam said he’d check up on you, he’ll get worried if you’re not there.”

“Tam worries no matter what.” Linh shook it off. “And besides, I don’t want to go home alone. I like... being around you.”

“I like being around you too,” Marella flushed. She glanced to the side and picked up a fallen hibiscus that was still intact, quickly braiding it into Linh’s hair. “There. Now you can have a piece of me wherever you go.”

Linh smiled sweetly, pulling Marella’s collar towards her and pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. “I think I’d rather have all of you,” she breathed softly, before stepping back and holding her crystal up to the Sun.

“Thanks, babe!” she called, a smirk proving her pride as she stepped into the light.

Marella touched her cheek, in shock from the confession, as goosebumps travelled up her arms. Her other hand frantically searched her pockets for her leaping crystal. Biting her lip, she glanced to the side, having to squint as the sun began its journey to the other side of the world. Surely the crew wouldn’t mind if she slipped away too. Besides, there was something more important. The siren called.

#*bouncing up and down* didja like it?#probably not #but i can dream ☺️#Cade’s writing #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #marella redek #linh song #tam song #marellinh #linh x marella #linhella

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constablegoo · 3 years

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@astralglam filed a report .

mint: does your muse view themself as virtuous & moral? what do these words mean to them?

OHOHO. hey hi ily. this is, of course, one of odo’s deepest ongoing battles, and the moment he stops questioning it is the moment he becomes a founder.

the founders grant themselves god status. GOD! status. they just reach out and pluck it. Within their range of power, the founders become unquestionably Just and Virtuous and Moral, their Word becomes Law, it becomes “the way things are” and “fact” and they create their own reality stemming from thousands of years of intense xenophobia. they’re above it all. gods don’t make mistakes, right? sure, maybe changelings were hunted and feared ages ago but they still fear it, and that drive for Order and Control over the galaxy is now encoded into their genes and they place a companion structure into the genes of every other species they control, subjugating them to the founders’ own cozy position as Gods, or-- ‘gods’. the founder (i rly don’t like saying “female” founder so she’s THE Founder. she speaks for the link.) makes it quite clear on many occasions that the founders are not here to negotiate. they fully intend to control EVERYTHING at any cost. it is absolutely chilling when she cuts garak down with: “they’re dead. you’re dead. cardassia is dead.” and draws the line between the dominion and everyone else miles deep into the sand.

that same genetic coding is one of the first semi-concrete things odo comes to understand about himself and, horribly, he’s landed into conditions under the occupation that very easily could have taken advantage of a less meticulous or stubborn changeling. no, odo says initially (and incorrectly), i am not bajoran** and i am not cardassian and i stand apart from either side of this conflict and so i am bound to PURE Virtue and Morality because of it. he can’t be bribed or bought or won over, and he won’t allow for anything less than a kind of incorruptibility. this effectively wins him allies (and enemies) on both sides, however -- that’s just not how the universe works. the truth of it is that no matter how much he tells himself he is not a part of their regime, his working with the cardassians makes him a collaborator in that he has then recognized their authority and ultimately upheld their legitimacy, even if he never agreed with the cause, even if he was also on some level a casualty of it. at some point when he moves past ‘contract’ investigation and begins to work permanently, he falls into the trap of thinking Order is the same thing as Justice... huge yikes. in that moment he becomes a true and apathetic villain, but he’s subsequently haunted by the resulting execution of innocents. it shakes something up in him. years pass and he still wonders, what other mistakes has he made? what other less direct consequences of his ‘neutral’ arbitration exist? he (and everyone around him) has to live without really knowing, and it’s a constant reminder to him of the power he holds and it informs his understanding of what Real (and imperfect) Justice Means.

**sidenote but later in s7 he introduces himself as ‘from bajor’ and AAAAAA. its good. very good. yeah, you’re bajoran, odo. he gets it now.

Mirror odo is really the ultimate example of an odo having taken those instincts to extremes in an environment that rewarded him for them -- there is no guilt there, and even a sadistic kind of pleasure in it. i’d argue that gaia!odo is another, less extreme example of an odo who’s been alone too long and lost sight of things when he single-mindedly (and against kira’s wishes) chooses her (one person) over 8000. like holy shit? NOT ok? uhhuhhhhfff. anyway. very fortunately, neither of these are OUR odo, but act as great foils to reflect on the worst (bastard cop) qualities or potential qualities of our goo pushed to highly visible extremes, which star trek just loves to do all the time.

but regular/prime odo isnt exactly a rule-follower, either. throughout his life, he frequently takes things into his own hands, uses his abilities to his advantage, spies, wiretaps, eavesdrops, and yes, harasses [quark] sometimes -- he develops his own set of values and personal rules and follows them; even starfleet comes in wary of him and how he operates and hes on thin ice. but because of possibly his most redeeming quality, odo is able to adapt those self-ordained values toward something increasingly honest: for how rigid he can be in personality, he is HIGHLY influenced by the world around him, listens hard to what his friends and allies have to say and adapts that feedback; this allows him to evolve and grow and take important matters to heart. he becomes more flexible and better able to hold onto what’s really most important after locking into a decision, because above all else, he is passionately committed to doing the Right Thing. he PLEADS with himself in things past, “your job is to find the truth, not obtain convictions.” by his tendency to push back against what is laid down as ‘law’ (something he becomes more and more aware of and effective at doing) as not always being good or right, or necessarily even creating Order (the thing he’s driven genetically to want), he prepares himself to challenge the most deadly voice of authority -- that of his own people.

so... yes and no. odo’s role and persona as ‘your average security chief’ might dictate that he be virtuous and moral, but he so obviously can’t fit the same exact mold as others in his position -- he has these insane abilities and this mind-consuming nature and it requires he tread with extra care, but he also has a potential for more adaptive, more nuanced morality. he has to build up his own definitions to the words, constantly examine and tease and test them, or else he risks straying too far from what he really wants to achieve -- harmony, honest justice. he has to accept that he’s a part of the system he operates in (not, in fact, alone or isolated! something he actually wants), and know that he is not exempt from making the wrong choice, just like anybody else.

carnation: what is your muse’s relationship with their gender? how do they express or not express this relationship?

ODO AND GENDER!!! i love odo and gender. let’s take this one step at a time. he starts out as an amorphous glob -- he has no gender. there’s no basis for assignment, no culture of difference, and all the goos are goo. odo takes on the shape of the first living thing he sees / the thing he sees most frequently: dr mora. he adopts an image of masculinity from mora and he adopts the hair. that’s about it, and it’s pretty much arbitrary. (maybe the hair is simple enough for his skills, too?) the next people odo meets are also these very masculine, military, cardassian leaders, so again -- this is all he knows! this is neutrality. i imagine it takes him some time to work out what the differences in gender are, and sex, and orientation, romantic vs sexual stuff, all of that. it’s all got cultural baggage he knows nothing about and does not experience, and he’s also dealing with multiple, clashing cultures to boot. since he doesnt have any strong inherent leaning, he simply opts out. he/him becomes his default because thats where he started, thats what he’s been able to successfully present and how people know him, and, terrifyingly, under cardassian rule, it probably offered a bit of safety, too, which was obviously something he needed at the time.

way way way way way down the line in season seven, odo asks kira to (paraphrasing) look at me. what do you see? [i see you.] but this is NOT me, this is only a shape ive assumed in order to fit in. she says, yes, i know that. but this is who you have chosen to be. “a man. a good and honest man.” (i knowww shes not really talking abt gender here BUT) its hard as a trans person not to read the metaphor. he’s chosen to express SOMETHING. he’s chosen something other than what he was given (neutrality) and although he doesnt personally buy into what ‘masculinity’ “should be” (ie the ferengi, smh) / would certainly not argue he doesnt feel non-binary, this is how he has presented all his life, its how hes been treated, and it is what he has chosen to adhere to. there’s a choice in that, kira’s right, and now it reflects something about him.

parallel this, i’ll mention the “female” founder again bc of course there is no discernable reason for her to have a gender -- other than to appeal (im not talking sexually here although there’s,, obviously weird shit happening with the link... yike) to odo in the sense that until that point odo has lived with “gendered” individuals and, i think importantly, kira is with them when they first meet. i think its safe to say the founder saw her, figured she was a friend/ally to odo or at least familiar to him, and took her general representation to appeal as a friend/ally.

otherwise... why, honestly? the founder’s got NO love of humanoids lmao why would she bother.

anyway i’d like to see odo experiment a bit. because when hes safe, he can!! aside from his own doubts and insecurities about shapeshifting, at some point he really has no reason not to, at least a little bit. really, it should just be another thing to practice, much like becoming a convincing rock or a leaf, its just that there are other significances in the cultures around him. i’d just like to see him loosen up a little. have fun. grow ur hair out a bit, odo, why are u still looking like ur terrible dad.

#astralglam #geez ok anyone who reads these are gods #thanks for letting me let some frogs out of my brain #like a lot of frogs #⌀ EVERY SIXTEEN HOURS I TURN INTO A LIQUID! [ about. ]#⌀ YOU HAVE NO SECRETS FROM ME. [ asks. ]#long post /#long as hell post /#sorry hopefully everyones asleep i dont wanna do readmore bc im a nuisance asjdfa

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lveclouds · 4 years

Text

shy (1)

pairing: (jungkook x you)

genre: fluff, just tooth rotting fluff, slightly cliche, (oh who am i kidding it’s very cliche) university/college au.

a/n: hi! so this is my first bts drabble! pls be patient with me, as i am not the best writer and this is my first time posting any kind of story on my blog. hope you guys like this, even if this will be v shitty. also this may have multiple parts i haven’t decided yet lol

*note: lowercase intended and the gif above is what he looks like in this drabble, minus the flashlight?)

word count: idk but definitely over 100? I think?

“just talk to him.” tessa, your best friend, would keep saying, nudging you in the side with her elbow. you’d refuse every time, no matter how much she got annoyed with you. “are you seriously just going to pine after him from afar like some kind of lovesick loser?” she’d asked one day during lunch, stabbing a salad leaf with her fork. “yup.” you replied,which earned an exasperated groan from tessa. “i swear, i am going to fucking lose my mind with you.” “you really need to just go up and talk to him. it’s not that hard.” it was easy for tessa. she was confident and outgoing and extremely beautiful, with her long, midnight black hair that fell in perfect waves down her back and stunning bright blue eyes that all the guys on campus would gush about. she was also extremely smart and artistic, all the things you wished you were. you were more of wallflower, always blending into the background as if you were a chameleon, busying yourself with assignments. you were extremely shy and tended to keep to yourself most of the time. you sat in the back of most of your classes and barely interact with anyone. you breezed through your day with little to no interactions. people thought you were a bit strange, but you didn’t mind. you’d always been the loner type, and the only friend you really had was tessa. college was boring, or, at least, nothing special, until he came into your life.

jeon jungkook. the quiet and shy boy who had transferred from busan a week into your second semester. you were taking a fine arts class, and the professor had asked him to sit next to you. already, half of the girls in your class were whispering and giggling about how attractive he was. and, while the high pitched giggles irked you, they weren’t wrong about him being insanely handsome. he looked as if he was carved by the gods themselves,with adonis like features. a strong jaw, black hair with blond highlights that seemed to be always falling into his eyes, sharp cheekbones, gorgeous chocolate brown eyes, perfect eyebrows, and his lips were pink and always looked so kissable. in your opinion, his smile was the most devestating thing about him. the corners of his eyes would crinkle and with his somewhat endearing bunny like teeth, it was a sight that always made your heart flutter. looks aside, he was also extremely talented. jungkook had won your university multiple awards just from the drawings he’d submitted to the annual art exhibitions alone. he had also led your football team to the championship and won first place in the yearly talent show that your university held during the winter and fall. he had sung a cover of lee hi’s breathe, and it was the most beautiful rendition you’d ever heard. his voice was absolutely breathtaking, and every note he hit sent a shiver down your spine. jungkook was also one of the nicest guys on campus, always willing to help anyone out with an assignment or a project, or even give them workout tips if they needed any. he went to the gym nearly everyday, and it was evident in the way that the fabric of his shirts would cling to his toned arms, as if they were holding on for dear life. he had prominent veins in his neck and hands,which were thin and covered with tattoos. the tattoos made him even more attractive, if that was even possible.

you had a few classes with him and you usually spent them stealing casual glances in his direction and wondering how someone as gorgeous as him existed. you’d barely spoken a word to him, mostly because you knew that if you did, disaster would ensue. besides, someone like you wasn’t supposed to be talking to someone as beautiful as him. you were able to get through an entire day without having a single interaction with him, which is what you wanted. as long as i never talk to him and he knows i don’t exist, it’ll be ok. you’d think. until that fateful friday after arts class when he’d approached you in the hallway. “hey,sorry to bother you, but could i talk to you for a second?” he asked, and his oh god, his voice was deep yet soft and it made your heart race. “s-sure.” you managed, keeping your eyes on the gray carpeted floor underneath you, too shy to meet his gaze. you followed jungkook outside, muttering a thank you when he held the door open for you, quickly walking past him. you were now standing right of the fine arts building, rocking back and forth on your heels nervously. the air outside was crisp and clean and there was a slight breeze that gently ruffled the trees, their leaves swaying peacefully.

“so, do you hate me?” “what?” your head practically snapped up at the sudden question, forgetting that you were talking to jeon jungkook, the guy you’d been secretly crushing on for a few months now. he looked almost sad, and you quickly shook away the thought. that’s impossible, you thought. “i don’t hate you, jungkook. why would you think that?” he shrugged. “i don’t know, i guess i just got the feeling that you hated me since you never talk to me and you purposely avoid me at all costs.” you winced. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to.” “so, why are you avoiding me then?” he pressed. you sighed. there was no point in trying to avoid the topic now. “i- i might’ve been t-too s-shy to talk to you.” “why?” you wanted to groan in frustration at how persistent he was being. “because i l-like you.” your heart was beating a mile minute at this point, and your face was probably as red as a tomato. you braced yourself, waiting for the rejection to come. what he said next nearly made your mouth drop open in shock. “i like you too.” “w-what? come again?”

“i like you.” jungkook declared, that gorgeous smile appearing on his face. “since when?” “since you sat next to me during art last semester.” you could feel your face turn an even darker shade of red. “are you sure i’m not dreaming or something? if this is a prank i will be very disappointed.” jungkook laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and you had never seen something so beautiful. “i promise you this is all real.” you felt a smile spread onto your face. “so would you like to grab a coffee with me sometime?” “i’d love to.”

a/n: so this was part one! idk if there will be a part two or not, i haven’t decided yet. hope you guys enjoyed this. i am not too fond of my writing here but hopefully it’s tolerable lmao 😂 ily guys and let me know if you want a part two or not!

s/o to: @sweetheartjeongguk @jungkooksmoon @moonbeamjk @jksmoongf @artjjk @jjksangel @jjksthghs @guktual @gukwluv @jinsjjk @wthkook @jeonangels @jeonsdear @aikosjeon @gukscene @mercurygguk @sketchguk @lomlkook @ggukshii @gguksbby @gukkism @jeonsbun @utopiajeon @yoonseok (i know you’re not jungkook biased but your icon is kook so) @kookscrescent @kooksmos and all of my jungkook mutuals for being the cutest and sweetest people ever!!!

also special thanks to: @kendreys @honeylovecult for always being so supportive of me!! ily both so much 😘🥺😔💕!

#this was my attempt at writing #it sucks but i hope yall like it!!!#lmk if you want me to do more of these!#mine

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andryuska · 5 years

Note

Oo odairing and alleviatiion for the url ask !

SEND YOUR URL TO HEAR // @odairing & @alleviatiion

( FINNICK )

MY MUSE’S OPINION OF YOUR MUSE: hOO andrei loves finnick to the moon and back, and in a way that he cannot even describe sometimes, he loves him in such a deep way that he’s not fully sure how to understand it himself : it, for him, feels like a very deep, significant connection that is also very real, and that’s a new thing for him ---- he doesn’t feel that way of a lot of people. he admire’s finnick’s strength, and how much he cares for andrei, and though he sometimes get frustrated with fin preventing him from doing things, it would never make him love him any less. andrei thinks the world of fin

MY OPINION OF YOUR MUSE: i love one violent boi who definitely did not die in his canon!! honestly i love fin and his complexity in general and even more i love how you write fin bc u give him so much depth and complexity and im just wdfgSDFGH im LOVE

MY FAVORITE PART ABOUT OUR MUSE’S INTERACTIONS: everything ?? all of the things ?? i love when they love each other and when they get soft and intimate and when they make me WEEP honestly im just ?? i love when they are together ,, i especially love when they love each other tho , i love them saying ‘ily’ and sharing soft kisses and holding hands and just being at peace together , that’s exactly my kind of wholesome shit

A WISH/PLOT I WANT TO WRITE FOR OUR MUSES: ooo i think it would be interesting to do a crossover in andrei’s canon ?? maybe fin could be someone in a lower class in moscow and andrei could take him in and they could be in forbidden love and just be soft bfs in the 19th century. ghost fin and ghost andrei would also be a fun time !!

A WAY YOUR MUSE HAS MADE MINE BETTER: heck fin has made andrei better in a lot of ways; he’s made him more able to access that caring nice part of himself and to be able to care for someone else thru caring for fin, he’s really started opening up andrei’s ability to communicate his feelings especially when they’re bad, and he’s just made andrei a lot softer in general , being in love does him so good

( LUKE)

MY MUSE’S OPINION OF YOUR MUSE: asdfgvf ANDREI LOV LUKE !! HE LOV HIM SO HE CK I N MUCH !! tbh in both their modern and thg verses luke saves andrei’s life in some way and tho it’s Unhealthy , luke is andrei’s reason for living for the most part , he needs him really bad and cant feel happy when luke isnt around , he doesnt wanna be apart from him. them being together ad doing their soft things and just taking it easy makes andrei feel so happy and at peace and even tho he’s being eaten up by ptds and depression , being with luke gives him some relief from that and it is super important to him

MY OPINION OF YOUR MUSE: AAAAAAAAA I LOVEEE LUKEY LUKE !! IM HEART EYES!! luke is such a good bean , an amazing oc , a soft boi , and i love him so much he makes me smile a lot and every time i see something pure and good i think about luke and smile a bit :)

MY FAVORITE PART ABOUT OUR MUSE’S INTERACTIONS: i love how soft and good they are together !! i love when they just go on walks and hold hands and luke give andrei leafs and aaaa it’s just so pure !! their angst also makes me cry a lot heck !!

A WISH/PLOT I WANT TO WRITE FOR OUR MUSES: anything tbh Anything ,, i would love some more rebellion and post-rebellion thg threads for them especially , when they have to deal with their trauma from everything and all

A WAY YOUR MUSE HAS MADE MINE BETTER: aaa luke helps him a lot with dealing with his ptsd and mental illness in general , luke has made him so much better at self care and not neglecting himself and just paying attention to how his mental health is , tho andrei still has a lot of work to do , luke has made him a lot better than he otherwise would have been

#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASDFGHYTGRFD I LOVE U BITCH !!#answered #queue #odairing

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ritingsandwramblings · 7 years

Text

Tom and Jerry: a story told by Jess at modnght when shes fucking losing it

so to give you a taste of what happens when i write late at night, heres what happened last time i turned off autocorrect and wrote at 2 am.

*backstory: my friend asked for an essay prompt so i said “prostitute falls in love with her recent customer: a pineapple” bc i was already tired and losing it and she was like “ok essay on pineapples” and said something in her essay for class “my friend jess is currently writing a story about a pineapple. it is very good” anyway i daid “what if the pineapples the prostitute” and she said “DUCK” bc typo so i decided the customer would be a duck named tom (bc we decided the pineapples name was jerry lmao) so here yall go look forwsrd to the pen15 fic tomorrow morning when i wake up and reread and remember what i did lmao

••••

“Who is Jerry to you? To some, he was just a pineapple, one you would skin and eat with other fruits yum yum slurp. But jerry was more than just a pineapple to m to me he was my friend my besyest friend. jerry was a kind souk. he was the sweetest pineapple i ever darn did meat lol. it all started the many years aho when i first met jerry…

"hey bois wanna prace of this sweet poneapple ass i make ur cum taste like gods piss you knownyou want that bby” jerry called to various passerbys on the bussy street. he didnt want his life to come to this knviously but he was a poor lil poneapple dude and needed the money somehow and in this day and age mobody would hire a pienapple like him everybody wanted to hire bananas and grapes these days. jerry was just happy the apples were off the market man did he hate competing against apples. they aalways thought they were so perfect because they were round amd shiny and a pretty dark shade of red or sometimes they were a pretty shiny green and yellow and the green snd yellow ones tasted discisting but they didnt care they thought they were the shit. they were so happy about theyre lil botch ass woden stems and made fun of jerry bc of his big ass leafy stem. it hurt jerrys feelings and he wished that he wasnt distantly related to the apples they wrre like second cousins twice temoved or some shit but still he shared a name woth them. he wished hcould be pinekiwi instead man the kiwis were hella cool unlike the bitch ass apples. suddly, a duck walked by. he was walking to a nearby lemonade stand to buy some grapes bc he was stuck in 2011 when he noticed jerry selling hid hot ass pornapplr body on the street cornee. he was instantly distracted from his previous missio of getting some hot ass grapes when he saw jerry. his spikeh yellow spokes. his long hreen leaves. everything about jerry made this duck wanna cross the streey so he did.

“ay tou walkin or workin baby” the duck called to the pineapple. the pineapple turned and blished.

“im working but i guess i could walk for you,” jerry giggled ad twirled a leaf making a seductive seg deg face at the duck, “whats your name bby?”

“im tom, and you are?”

“jerry. but you can all me big papple. its like pineapple but just the p and then apple and it sorta looks like papi get it lol”

“oh yeah i got it baby, how much you charge?”

“no charge for tou, for now bbay”

“in thta case lets fo”

jerey followed tom back to his place the two amking out once they got there with lots of tongue idk how kissing works bc im megavirgin™ but go with it. tom quacked in excitement as jerry ruffled his feathers literally. tom ran his beek through jerrys leafs, the two noth groaning ar the action. the two had logs of fun ifyaknowhatimean for a while and laid there happily. tom fell asleep and jerry looked lovingly at him but then was sad bc he was just a prostitute and he couldnt sgay with tom he needed money. so he left without a note or goodbye and cried as he walked to a new dtreet corner hoping tom wouldnt find him again.

jerry had many more custmers since he left tom. jerry hadnt seen tom since but tom watched jerry from afar bit it wasnt creepy he loved jerry and watched him bc he wanted to slirp his yum yum yummyness. one day jerry started to look worn down and tired after being a prositute to some scummy cucumber. tom risked everything and walked up to jerry askig ifmjerry was okay.

“jerry?”

“t-tom senpai!?” jerry stutterdd and di a anime gasp like “uh-hUH”

“yes its me jerry im sorry i couldnt just let you goni had to know youre safe are you okay baby”

“mo bby im sorry i got the hiv from a rotten old cucumner but he paid good morny but im not gonna libe so take the money tom ily”

“oh shit ilyt jerry” tom said. he leaned in for a kis agter taling the money when suddenly jerry droped his lesfs hitting the floor. he was ded he died from the cucumber hiv.

“NKOOOOOOOOOO” tom yelle as passerbys watched and slowly sang.

“mmmmmm watchaa sayuyyyyy mmmmr hat you only meant weellllll” they sang…

jerry and is love was short but it was meaningful. i may just be a duck and he may be a pineapple but together we were the romro and hulejt of modern times man and ill never get over losing my papple" jerry wiped a tear from his eye and ran from the cuneral service quaking about the loss of his papple.

chapter 2 coming soon…

*edit this was copied and pasted straigt from my notes so idk if midnight me will write a chapter two lmao

#pen15 coming soon #oc #short story

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