#sorry about the essay but as someone who has 'peace' in the title of my master's degree....... i had my Thinking Cap shoved forcibly on | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

marknee · 1 year

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bts fanfics i think shakespeare and queen elizabeth i would’ve gossiped about.

chapter ii. ✷ chapter iv.

KEYS ON SEVERITY OF SHAKESPEARE’S STATE:

( ✮ ) — you can’t lie, shakespeare’s got a mouth on him.

( ♬ ) — they’ve ordered everyone out the room. peering through the window as we speak.

( ✎ ) — someone tell him to put that poor teacup down.

( ♛ ) — her majesty royally gasped. she’s clutching her pearls, bless her.

THE SHAKESPEARE SERIES.

WARNING: keep in mind, some of these authors are very strict on the rule that no minors should read their work if they’re underage, and i will honour that. but, at the end of the day, i am not your parent. so, there’s that. but heed my warning wisely. any smut or 18+ content is highlighted in bold.

NOTE: we’re on part three already? damn, times flies. if you’re new here, welcome to the shakespeare series where i write essays about fics that would absolutely annihilate shakespeare — hence the name. if you haven’t read the past two chapters, you can access them in the masterlist above! let’s get into it.

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( ♛ ) MATILDA — by @babystrcandy

!! yoongi x reader | 141.8k !!

brothers best friend au, angst, fluff, eventual smut.

my therapist would absolutely adore this fanfic. maybe i should recommend it to her. or just send her the link. she’d be thrilled.

this series is dedicated to anyone who felt like the second choice, the one always forgotten about, the so-called disappointment, the people pleaser, the perfectionist, the one whose family has let them down over and over again.

reading this, alike reading anything else, transports you to another world. however, the difference between this one and all others, is this makes you feel safe. secure. a safe place. a sanctuary you never realised even existed, where you feel accepted and loved. it takes the idea of home and really drills it in.

if you find yourself relating to this story, like i did, i want to you to know i see you and i truly hope one day you find everything you were deprived of growing up. you deserve peace. you deserve love.

while you’re at it, go give this author some love for seeing us, listening to us, and validating our experiences. and for writing such a beautiful story.

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( ♬ ) DILF JK — by @venusiangguk

!! jungkook x reader | 85.5k !!

strangers to lovers, dad!jk, friends with benefits, smut (18+), fluff.

if some army’s weren’t such delulu’s and so consumed by the imaginary idea that they’ll one day marry a bts member and live happily ever after, this is the type of shit we’d actually get. but no, we’re forever plagued by fiction because of a few overly obsessed wankers.

rant aside, dilf!jk is a concept. one that needs to be studied and researched for my own personal needs. because i thought dilf!namjoon was dangerous (and he most certainly is), but dilf!jk is a whole other… thing? being? story? i’ll leave that to the researchers.

personally, i love when authors mould fiction and reality into one body. they blend the two concepts together to create something beautiful, and this was duly noted within the topic of the age gap. deciding on something real for the benefit of both parties in a fictional story is so fucking applaudable. or perhaps i’m just an angsty fucker, sorry.

most definitely worth all the tissues and all the cheek aching. talking from experience.

i mean, it’s got ‘dilf’ in the title, is that not enough? it’s what made me click, anyways. i’m a dilf lover through and through.

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( ♬ ) A SERPENT’S FLOWER — by @jimlingss & @dovechim

!! jimin x reader | 34.2k !!

fluff, smut (18+), lil angst, hogwarts!au.

realistically, you knew at some point in this series there would be a harry potter!au thrown in somewhere, didn’t you? i mean, come on now. and i’m so happy this is the first one.

this two-parter and it’s sequel both are both due the respect they deserve. the perfect opposites attract trope? enemies to lovers? with a quick-witted slytherin reader and an even wittier hufflepuff park jimin? fuck me, don’t mind if i do.

i never say a fanfic has everything. but this fanfic has everything. character, romance, humour, angst, wit, the list goes on. it’s a fanfic buffet: it’s got it all, and you just help yourself.

and i realise some people don’t read the sequels to fanfics (i know), but i beg of you. read the sequel too. if anything, i think the sequel was my favourite bit. and i know some people don’t like the pregnancy trope, but i’m telling you there definitely is a time and place for it. and this is the time! and the place! trust me.

did i cry at the end of this fic? i can’t remember. but the probability is higher than i’d like it to be.

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( ✮ ) ZERO GRAVITY — by @luxekook

!! namjoon x hoseok x reader | 11k !!

space!au, poly!au, angst, smut (18+), crack, fluff.

if someone doesn’t drop me on a spaceship with two of the hottest men on the planet in the next fortnight, i’m suing. don’t know who that’ll be yet, but some poor sod will have his hands full, that’s for certain.

i love space!au fics with my whole heart and ass. honestly, every time one comes up on my page, i have to save it. it’s a reflex at this point, they’re just too good. you know what is also too good? the built up tension within this fic. jaw-dropping.

i’m not giving out any spoilers, but the author really said, bonk— here is the nastiest smut you’ve ever read in your life. take it, or get fucked. and of course, i took it. but nothing really prepares you for that atmosphere change. not even the sex club was remotely ready. and it’s a sex club.

not going to lie, before writing this essay, i actually went back and read it again, just to make sure i was in the right mind the first time i read it. and yep, sure was. it’s just shocking how insane this fic is.

btw, anyone fancy a visit to throbbing disco sticks? i need a word with the person who came up with the name. and perhaps a kiss too.

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( ✎ ) NO CHOICE (NEXT TO YOU) — by @gukyi

!! yoongi x reader | 13k !!

college!au, frat boy!au, neighbour!au, enemies to lovers.

miscommunication. my lover in fanfics, my worst enemy in real life. hence why i love this fic so much. because it’s not real life. (unfortunately).

we’ve all done that thing where we’ve accidentally eavesdropped onto something we shouldn’t of and one thing leads to another and boom, you find yourself misreading the whole situation. and you’re lying if you say you haven’t.

well, that’s this fic for you. times a thousand. honestly, enemies to lovers fics never do me wrong. they’re always a joy to read — the thrill and the very, very prominent sexual tension keeps you excited, waiting on the edge of your seat to see how everything plans out.

my point? this fic never bores you out. read it a thousand times and it still feels like the first. and not a lot of fanfics have that power, i’ll tell you that. a few, yes. but not a lot.

don’t take reading this for the first time for granted. wish i had that privilege. jealous.

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( ✎ ) THE PRINCE’S CINDERELLA SYNDROME — by @jimilter

!! jimin x reader | 39.4k !!

cursed!jimin, supernatural!au, strangers to lovers!au angst, smut, fluff.

this fic altered my brain chemistry permanently. there’s no going back. i’m officially ruined, you guys. i don’t even know who i was before i read this. it was just- bang, clean slate.

to begin with, i thought ‘this bitch saw him twice and her knees buckled. what the fuck.’ but then i realised that bitch is me, and the so-called him is referring to thee park jimin, so really. i got it. who wouldn’t absolutely power move it after seeing such a sight? i might just jog a little. sprint on a good day.

i would happily write a five thousand word essay for you on how fucking good this plot slash idea was, and an additional ten thousand on how sad, but i don’t think my fingers— nor my mental state would be able to go through that. not again. please.

but as i mentioned in the last fic above, do not take reading this for the first time for granted. however, only because you will lose all rationality.

shakespeare most definitely plagiarised this fic. he wrote it down and her majesty knows. that’s why he looked so proud of himself at tea. the sneaky fucker. just he wait until i tell @jimilter.

sobbing. again. or is this the fourth time?

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( ✎ ) ALWAYS IN MY DREAMS — by @kookskingdom

!! namjoon x reader | 15.4k !!

soulmates!au, fluff, angst, minor character death.

i mean, i already sleep too fucking much. only being able to meet my soulmate through my dreams would just make me comatose. you’d never hear from me. ever.

and yes, you saw the tag. it’s another soulmate!au because everyone knows how much nini loves her hopeless romance. but! who doesn’t. they’re too good to scroll past. so when i finally read this, i knew it was going in the series.

the unknown certainty between the pair of when their next encounter would be with each other, causing them to cherish every single second, that. that’s what i want please. someone who drinks up my existence knowing we will soon part from each other. i cannot.

i love, love, love the concept of soulmates, fate, destiny, whatever. the whole shabang. i bathe in it. so, of course, this fic was a big hit with me. and if that too is your thing, and you love the idea of two souls being intwined inside and out, this is your golden ticket.

@kookskingdom is mentioned in this chapter twice. but can you blame me? you find a ticket to the chocolate factory, of course you’re going to hold onto it as tightly as possible.

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( ✮ ) VOICEMAIL — by @joonary

!! seokjin x reader | 7k !!

fluff, humour, friends to lovers, college podcast!au.

you know those dramas where both the two main characters are so completely smitten with each other to the point you’re practically screaming at your screen for them to “just kiss already!” but won’t because they’re hopelessly oblivious, even though everyone is telling them how in love they both are? yeah, that’s this fic. in a nutshell.

though in their defence, i feel i would definitely do the same. but still, does it stop me from getting frustrated with them? no. i was absolutely raging.

this cute story was so, so sweet i was practically clutching the phone for an emergency appointment to the dentist. my teeth were rotting with all the added sugar, like hello? my teeth? but just like chocolate is, it’s addicting. and you can’t stop yourself.

perhaps i’m just a sucker for friends to lovers fics, but this one particularly caught my attention. it’s 5k of pure infuriation, and 2k of fluff.

but so worth the impatience.

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( ♬ ) FALL IN HATRED — by @jimlingss

!! seokjin x reader | 20k !!

divorce!au, angst, fluff, smut (18+), marriage!au.

first bullet point is just the thought of fuck me, ‘cause where do i start with this?

separation — in some ways — is the easy way out. you just get up and leave. walk out, whatever. boom, just like that. but the emotional repercussions are what make it so distressing. making that daunting decision to leave something— someone in our past, may be one of the hardest things we humans ever have to do.

this fic goes through the rough battle of what it means to be committed to a person. the battles of finally giving up on someone you once thought the world of. and honestly? that may be my worst fear. for someone to love me so deeply, and then lose that over time to see me as nothing more than an inconvenience of their past.

never been through divorce. hopefully you, nor i, will ever have to. but after reading this, i don’t think we have to experience it.

this amazing, yet painfully angsty fic does it for us. and a fucking incredible ending.

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( ♛ ) THE ROAD TO RADIANT — by @kookskingdom

!! jungkook x reader | 25.9k !!

gamer!au, streamer!au, fluff, angst, smut, rivals to friends to lovers!au.

this got a crown on the shakespeare state chart purely for the fact i have never played valorant in my life, and single-handedly managed to impress my friends — who are obsessed with said game — about my newfound knowledge of gaming, purely from this fic alone. felt like a fucking genius.

i was going to add this to part four, but i genuinely had to swap some fics around to put this baby in. i found space for her, so she’s here. and deservedly so. why wait?

this fic does a very good job of highlighting the deep misogyny and sexism that runs within the gaming community towards women. like, can women not be good at gaming too? do people really believe gaming is purely a man thing? is this really the society we live in? yikes.

and if you do happen to read this fic and reach that argument scene with jungkook, please let me know. i want you to know i, too, was absolutely fuming. phones were thrown. naughty words were said. angry voice messages to said best friend were recorded.

final special mention for the smut scene. had me sweating like a sinner in church. lord have mercy.

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( ♬ ) BRASS AND STRINGS — by @jimlingss

!! namjoon x reader | 113.7k !!

slice of life!au, fluff, slow burn, college!au, music!au.

take a shot every time this author is mentioned within this series. you’ll end up blackout pissed. it’s a shame they left this platform, but i hope they’re doing well. their fics have really left an impact on me. and i’ll forever be grateful.

ah, yes. the cheesy clichéd trope of the mean girl and the nerd. a mix of two completely different personalities and flavours that supposedly fit together like two broken pieces of a puzzle. the very foundation of a 2000’s romcom. an iconic pairing that has been hammered into us by the media since day one.

it’s the opposites attract that lured me in initially, but it’s the character development throughout the story that nestled itself into my heart, and got me to stay. this fic holds dear to me still.

i have gatekept this fic long enough, and i am trusting you to bear it with love and extreme care. like you’re holding a small, fragile baby in your arms. do not let me down. please.

one more thing, don’t share this with shakespeare. every time he’s brought it up, i’ve told him it was a really weird dream and he’s only just started to believe me. yes, i feel shit about it, but it has to be done. the man’s a menace.

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( ✮ ) TANGLED WEBS — by @ughseoks

!! jungkook x reader | 14.1k !!

spiderman!au, soulmate!au (yup), angst, fluff.

if any of you say a word about the second tag, i will fight. i will never stop recommending them. me and the soulmates!au are soulmates. irony at its finest.

i genuinely wish spidey!jk was a real adaptation. because even though andrew is my favourite spiderman, i fear there is a large difference between the pair that separates them. andrew can play peter parker. jungkook can (re: could) play peter parker. but could andrew play jungkook? no.

in this fic, the whole characterisation of both jungkook as spiderman and the soulmate!reader is so well written. you can perfectly picture jungkook being that awkward high school boy by day, and secret superhero vigilante by night. i mean, fuck me. how is he not knackered all the time?

mixing in that final zest of soulmates!au everyone (re: me) loves, you’ve got yourself a hell of a plot line.

romeo and juliet were not soulmates, shakespeare. they were children. why aren’t you taking notes? stop talking to the queen. she’s tired of all your bullshit. and so are we.

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esther-dot · 2 years

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“The things he has told us time and again over the course of years that he told D&D? The things the fandom wants to believe are strictly their fuckery? Like say, Stannis burning Shireen, King Bran, Dark Dany?”

Can you share where George told us ‘time and again’ that he told D&D about Dark Dany? Because from what I know, the three things George RR Martin confirmed he’s told D&D were Stannis burning Shireen, King Bran and the Hodor moment. I don’t remember him saying anything about Daenerys’ ending, I’d be happy if you enlightened me, I’d love to see the interview/post.

Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t careful enough there! Martin has said many times over the course of years, that he has known his main endings and plot points for years/decades. He has also said he shared these with D&D, that he expected the show to have the same endgames, and before and after s8 he has spoken of how faithful an adaptation of ASOIAF Game of Thrones is. Obviously they have huge divergences, but I think those are in the how the endgame is reached, less the what. That’s the part of “he told us time and again” that I meant, not that I have heard him explicitly say, “Dany dies a villain.”

But, he did say this of the infamous Meereenese Blot Essays:

Then he went on to add that sometimes there's an essay or even a series of essays that "really gets it right". He specifically cited the difficulty he had with the Meereenese sections of ADwD, trying to figure out the POV, and he called it the "Meereenese Knot." He admitted being annoyed when some turned it into "the Meerenese Blot", but someone made a series of essays with that title. "I read those when someone pointed them out to me, and I was really pleased with them, because at least one guy got it. He got it completely, he knew exactly what I was trying to do there, and evidently I did it well enough for people who were paying attention." Of course, he added that some other essays depress him when people get everything wrong, and when people get everything wrong, well, whose fault is it? It could be his fault because he didn't write it well enough, but who knows? (link)

Here are some quotes from those essays:

But when you look past the unreliable narrator and POV-character bias, Martin’s aim becomes clear. The whole plotline is designed to maneuver Dany into a mental place where she’ll decide to sideline her concerns for innocent life, and take what she wants with fire and blood. Martin’s triumph is in handling this character development in such a natural and organic way. He gives Dany as much agency as he can — her hand is never truly forced by the Harpy or slavers. He presents her with incredibly difficult situations, places her core values into conflict, and makes her choose. Her choices first go one way — then another.

Now, the transformation is complete. The Dany we knew at the end of ASOS is gone. The one who reaches Westeros will be a very different person. The dragons are now unchained, and the gloves are off. (link)

and

In parts I-IV of this essay, I’ve laid out my main argument that Martin has designed Dany’s ADWD plotline quite deliberately to focus on her struggle within herself. She tries to be concerned for innocent life, and fears unleashing her violent impulses. Eventually, she sacrifices a great deal for peace, and achieves it. But she turns out to hate it, and in the end rejects it, in favor of “fire and blood.”

and

In contrast to Daario, Martin tailors the traits of Hizdahr zo Loraq to represent the path of peace through political compromise. Dany’s feelings toward him are exactly how she ends up feeling toward the peace — like the peace, Hizdahr is unsatisfying, frustrating, not what Dany truly wants, and cannot make her happy — and instinctively, she wants war more.

and

Dany’s sexual satisfaction is a metaphor — the reality of peace can’t truly satisfy Dany, only war can (link)

So, no, Mr Martin didn’t look into a camera and say, “Dark Dany is real and everyone who says so isn’t a hater or partaking in a ship war.” But I’m not sure how you read the essays and what he said about them and deny that’s the path she’s on?

I also think the way he regularly included “the major beats” in his discussion about endgames being the same in the show and books indicates the burning of KL was always in his mind, but even if he didn’t say so, I don’t think it’s a weird conclusion to come to. Not if you relate Dany entering a funeral pyre because she is blood of the dragon and emerging with her dragons to the later quotes about Aerys wanting to turn KL into a giant funeral pyre so that he could be a dragon. It’s just not much of a leap at all to realize, oh, the author is building to something here. (link)

My words could have been clearer, but I think Dark Dany is just like Stannis burning Shireen. It makes sense, it’s foreseeable, but fans like Stannis so they refuse to believe it without seeing the words on the page. Fine. But it doesn’t mean it wasn’t where Martin always intended to go. His quote about Feldman’s essays is from 2015.

The other Martin quote that seals the deal for me regarding Dark Dany is the fact that he called her a threat and compared her to the Others:

MARTIN: Well, of course, the two outlying ones — the things going on north of the Wall, and then there is Targaryen on the other continent with her dragons — are of course the ice and fire of the title, “A Song of Ice and Fire.” The central stuff — the stuff that’s happening in the middle, in King’s Landing, the capital of the seven kingdoms — is much more based on historical events, historical fiction. It’s loosely drawn from the Wars of the Roses and some of the other conflicts around the 100 Years’ War, although, of course, with a fantasy twist. You know, one of the dynamics I started with, there was the sense of people being so consumed by their petty struggles for power within the seven kingdoms, within King’s Landing — who’s going to be king? Who’s going to be on the Small Council? Who’s going to determine the policies? — that they’re blind to the much greater and more dangerous threats that are happening far away on the periphery of their kingdoms. (link)

I just don’t think he accidentally called her one of “the much greater and more dangerous threats” if in his mind she wasn’t, ya know, a threat to the people of Westeros. That quote is from 2014. There’s also the oft referenced the dragons are the nuclear deterrent quote which I can’t find the original source for at the moment, but I take the above as confirmation of what Dark Dany enthusiast have long argued. Martin reading this quote:

“the reality of peace can’t truly satisfy Dany, only war can”

and saying, He got it completely, he knew exactly what I was trying to do there…well, it feels like an answer to the Dark Dany question.

#ask dot #anti burning people alive #anti daenerys #anti daenerys targaryen

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cacoetheswriting · 3 years

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chasing a feeling pt. III - spencer reid

Warnings: mild cursing, implied smut (nothing explicit), kinda angsty, kinda fluffy Word Count: 2.3k Summary: this is part three: Spencer has a habit of showing up at your door in the middle of the night. A/N: italics are memories/flashbacks. also sorry this took so long omg!!

| PART ONE | PART TWO |

The case concluded a couple of days later. Days which consisted of ignoring Spencer; unless absolutely necessary. Days spent trying not to look at him, days spent pretending you weren't thinking about him, his touch, or that night you spent together.

It was incredibly hard to concentrate on quite literally anything.

The night you got home from the work trip was a sleepless one. You tossed and turned, anxious about seeing the brunette doctor the next day. You couldn't help but wonder how the two of you will act around one another now that you were back on common ground. How your dynamic will be now that you weren't working a case.

It shouldn't have come as a surprise that you weren't the only one feeling restless. A knock on your door caused you to hop out of bed and wander towards it. Letting a yawn escape your lips you looked through the peephole to check who was on the other side. Spencer.

Quickly, you opened the door. The young doctor looked up from the ground and greeted you with a timid smile.

“Spencer, what are you doing here? How did you know where I live?”

“I’m sorry Y/N, I know it’s late but-” He cleared his throat. “-can we please talk?” He asked while staring deep into your eyes. You nodded after a brief moment and stepped aside, allowing him to enter.

Spencer sat down on the couch, glancing around your apartment in the process. The place wasn’t fully decorated yet. A number of cardboard boxes were stacked on top of one another in the corner of the living room, clearly still full. The TV lay on the floor, cables tangled, and beside it was a half-opened suitcase with your go-bag thrown hastily on top.

You asked if he wanted a coffee, or anything else to drink, but he politely shook his head ‘no’ so you situated yourself on the opposite end of the couch and waited for him to tell you why he was here.

Silence enveloped around the room. Suddenly afraid to say anything, in case it ended up in another argument, the brunette doctor nervously fidgeted with the bottom of his shirt. You were slightly taken aback by his nervous demeanour, it was completely different to the way he acted around you the last week.

It reminded you of when you were younger. The shy, awkward, slightly closed-off Spencer. The guy who wouldn’t hold your hand or at time was afraid to meet your gaze, the guy that didn’t understand the sarcastic jokes you made. It made your heart ache a little.

Finals were approaching and they were approaching fast. Everyone said law school would be hard. Long hours, extensive curriculum, sleepless nights, projects, essays, case-studies. The list goes on.

It didn't help that you were a lot younger than your fellow classmates. Being an ambitious and driven kid you managed to skip a few grades and get an undergraduate degree in psychology at a very young age. Law school seemed like the logical next step although now you were thinking about giving up.

With junior year coming to an end, you constantly wondered whether this should be the end of your law career. Perhaps there was something better out there for you. Something easier, and not as draining. You weren't a quitter, far from it, but this was too much for a single person to handle.

It was Friday night, and yet currently you were curdled up on the library floor rather than at some frat party. Piles on piles of books and encyclopaedias formed around you as you worked away on your end of term paper.

A not so quiet yawn escaped your lips. Followed by another. Leaning back against the shelf behind you, you closed your eyes. Honestly, you could fall asleep here, now.

It was in that moment of silence you heard a shuffling sound approaching your location between the aisles of books. Slowly, you flushed your eyes back open to analyse your surroundings - see who it was that disturbed your peace.

A scrawny boy stood just a few feet away, deeply focused on the collection of titles in front of him. The boy was around your age. Tall. You could see remains of gel in his short brown hair; which was now quite messy. He was dressed in a slightly oversized sweater, underneath he wore what looked like a neatly ironed shirt, and a dark bag was draped loosely over his shoulder.

“Hello.” You said. His head instantly snapped in your direction.

“H-hi.” He replied sheepishly. “I-I didn’t mean to wake you.” His soft demeanour made you smile. “Oh, I wasn't actually sleeping. Just resting my eyes for a second.”

The boy nodded. You waited for him to say something but he didn't so you reached out your hand.

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

His gaze travelled to your hand before moving back up to meet yours. He didn't move any closer, and you could sense he grew a little uncomfortable, so you let your hand fall down to your lap.

“I’m Spencer.” He cleared his throat. “Doctor Spencer Reid.” Your eyes widened a little at his esteemed title. “Doctor?”

Spencer’s nose twitched gently.

“I have Ph.D’s in mathematics, chemistry and engineering.” He retorted causing your mouth to part in shock. “Holy shit.” Pause. “Wow, and here I thought I was the resident genius having one silly undergraduate degree.” You joked; but the young doctor didn't laugh. He simply stared at you, a kind look spread across his face.

“W-what are you studying now?” Spencer asked, motioning to the stakes of books around you.

“I’m in law school.” You replied. “Failing miserably to write my stupid end of term paper.” Sigh. “One of many actually.”

Spencer took one step forward. “M-maybe I can help?” He offered. “That is really kind of you but unless you have a law degree you haven’t mentioned yet, I don't know how you would be able to help.”

“I don’t have a law degree, but I have an eidetic memory.” He said, nervously tugging at the strap of his bag. “I-if that’s of any help to you.”

The smile on your face grew wider. “Well Spencer, now you’re just showing off.”

It was at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue with such ease, the brunette doctor finally smiled. And holy smokes did he have a pretty smile. Your heart skipped a beat as his face illuminated.

“But you convinced me.” You added while getting up on your feet. You picked up your things along with as many books as you could carry. Spencer shuffled toward you, and while keeping his distance, he bent down to pick up the remaining items.

“Why are you here Spencer?” You finally asked breaking the silence.

The brunette agent tilted his head in your direction, eyes locking with yours once again causing the air to catch briefly in your chest.

“I wanted to make sure you knew that what happened between us the other night, that wasn’t some ploy to get you to stay.” He stated. “I tried to explain that to you but you never really gave me a chance.” Pause. “Y/N, I want you to stay. Not for me but because you deserve to be a part of this team.”

“I appreciate you saying that Spencer. Truly.” A small smile graced your facial features. The brunette doctor smiled down at his hands. “But you didn’t have to come here in the middle of the night to tell me that. It could have waited.” You teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Spencer smirked before clearing his throat. He glanced up, his eyes meeting yours. “I guess I just wanted to see you.” You bit down on your bottom lip the second he said that, your heart skipping a beat. Spencer shifted closer to you. Without really thinking about it, you also moved in his direction. Your knees now touching.

“You know, communication was never our strong suit. For two people with psychology degrees you would think we’d be better at it.” You muttered making Spencer laugh. The smile on your face slowly faded. “Maybe we’re too similar, maybe that was our downfall.”

Spencer lifted his hand, reaching out for yours which was currently placed on your lap. He intertwined his fingers with yours. “In reality, opposites don’t attract.” The brunette doctor noted. “You’re more likely to be attracted someone who thinks the same as you do.”

In the space of a heartbeat, without giving you a chance to reach, Spencer leaned in. His lips brushed against yours; electricity shooting through your body. His free hand found its way to your face, and he cupped your cheek. As seconds passed you pushed yourself into him more. Fuck. Should you be doing this?

You hurried through the halls, slaloming between the groups of students making their way peacefully to class. A feeling of excitement filled you from head to toe; excitement you only wanted to share with one specific person.

Spencer was sat in your now usual spot at the university library. Two coffees in front of him, one for you.

A sort of routine emerged since the two of you first met. It started out for purely academic purposes, but in the last week especially it evolved into something different. A friendship perhaps? No. It felt more than that although neither of you could quite describe it

“I did it!” You exclaimed while sitting down beside the young doctor - getting a dirty look from the librarian in the process. She shushed you before returning to whatever it was she was doing. You rolled your eyes before turning your attention back to Spencer. “I am officially done with all my papers and assignments.”

“I’m happy for you Y/N.” Spencer smiled.

“Well, I couldn't have done it without you.” You beamed at him. “I don’t know how I will ever thank you Spencer.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Come on genius, there must be something I can do for you.”

The brunette doctor cleared his throat, avoiding your gaze. “I-I have t-two tickets to this convention, but you wouldn't be interested.” You raised an eyebrow while reaching for one of the coffees on the table. Lifting the lid to your lips you smiled. “It’s a date.”

Spencer’s hands were now holding onto your waist. He lifted you up in one swift motion, without breaking the kiss, so that you were now cradling his lap. You held his face, the tips of your fingers wrapping in his light brown curls.

Any reservations you had just a moment ago were now forgotten. You were completely lost in him, just as he was in you.

As your mouth parted, Spencer’s tongue crept between your lips meeting yours. Instantly, your tongues began to play back and forth. Heads tilting side to side to vary pressure.

Spencer’s strong hands began to travel up your body. They moved from your waist; slightly messing up your shirt in the process and sending a shiver down your spine. They stopped once they reached your neck, giving it a light squeeze. You couldn't help but moan against his hot mouth.

“I honestly don’t remember the last time I had this much fun.” You breathed happily as you and the young doctor walked down the busy street after the convention. “You don’t have to say that Y/N.” Spencer said, nervously tugging at the bottom of his shirt.

“Are you kidding? Spencer, today was amazing!” You beamed throwing your hands up in the air. “I was supposed to be making it up to you for your help with my papers but instead you treated me to another great day.”

Spencer chuckled lightly. He loved seeing you this happy. The more he thought about it, the more he realised how many things he actually loved about you. But it made him nervous because what if he didn't just love things like your laugh or your attitude. What if in fact he was in love with you.

“I guess we’re going to have to go on another date.” You teased. Spencer’s nose twitched but he didn't say anything. His lack of response caused you to stop in your tracks. The young doctor mimicked your move and also stopped, just a step ahead of you.

“I’m sorry.” You sighed.

“Why are you sorry?” Spencer asked confused.

“I just, I called today our date and I don’t want you to think I expect anything. I know the idea of dating can make you uncomfortable.” Your mouth flipped into a half-smile. “I like hanging out with you Spencer. I enjoy your company, and I wouldn't want to jeopardise that.”

“I like hanging out with you too.”

“Really?” “O-of course I do Y/N.” He smiled nervously. “I-I would like to go on more dates with you. You’re like a breath of fresh air.” Your face flushed red at his comment. Something Spencer noticed immediately. Without really thinking, he reached out his hand and gently caressed your cheek.

Your heart stopped. This was the first time he had touched you, ever. It was the first time you felt his soft skin against yours. You wanted desperately to lean into his touch but you didn't want to scare him off so you stood still, taking a mental picture of this moment.

Very slowly the two of you broke apart. The brunette doctor looked deep into your eyes; what he saw was longing, fervour. He felt the exact same.

Between the constant fights and misunderstandings it felt wrong to feel this strong desire to one another. This strong pull. It felt almost toxic. But Spencer shook the invasive thought away, his lips once again meeting yours.

“Would you like to move this to the bedroom?” You suggested in a mere whisper in between kisses. Spencer nodded. His hands situated themselves on your bum. The brunette agent picked you up allowing you to swiftly wrapp your legs around him. He carried you to the bed, kicking the door shut behind you with his leg.

story taglist: @ashwarren32, @haylaansmi, @spencersblog, @lovebodymindstuff, @april-14-blog, @wooya1224, @chevyimpala00067, @sizzlingclamturtlesludge

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onlyfreds · 3 years

Text

Unravelling Love’s Mystery | F.W.

Title: Unravelling Love’s Mystery

Requested: Yes/No

Summary: Fred and Y/N had bad blood between them ever since their first year at College. But when they are partnered up for a project, what could go wrong?

A/N: This is my first time writing an enemies to lovers so, I hope I was able to give it justice.

In my opinion, love is the greatest mystery of all, probably even the mystery that no one can come to solve. It will always be a mystery on how two people fall in love, how two people come to have this mutual understanding and affection.

Love brings many emotions to a person: heartbreak, anger, a sense of longing, but those people who have found their one true love, they feel joy, peace, a sense of satisfaction.

And love can come to the most unlikely pair, who would have thought that two childhood best friends end up together? Who would have thought that your soulmate happened to be your grumpy boss?

In my case, I ended up with the most unlikely contestant, my sworn enemy, Fred Weasley.

The Psychology of Love, that was our lecture topic for today. Don’t get me wrong, it is quite an interesting topic. But there was one person in the whole universe who could make the tables turn, and that was an arrogant, stubborn, and increasingly annoying classmate of mine named Fred Weasley.

“Okay class.” Professor McGonagall started the lecture as the latecomers settled into the remaining seats, “As you may have figured out from your essay that is – in fact - due today, our lecture is about the Psychology of Love.”

She looked at all of us with a stern but gentle look, “Now, which one of you can tell me who developed the triangular theory of love?”

My hand, along with Fred’s, promptly shot up in the air. McGonagall looked at us, a bit bored, if you ask me, as it was always the two of us.

“Mr. Weasley.” She called.

Fred stood up, throwing me a smug smile from across the hall.

“American Psychologist, Robert Sternberg is the one who developed the triangular theory of love.” He answered, sitting back down when he finished.

I rolled my eyes at him, crossing my arms over my chest, wanting so badly to smack him at the back of the head with my textbook to wipe that smug smirk of his face.

“Very good Mr. Weasley! Now, who can state all the three components of love that can be found in Robert Sternberg’s theory?” Our Professor asked.

Fred’s hand and mine both shot up to the air again, we exchanged a challenging look. It was another race, another competition to prove who’s better, who’s the best. Because only one can be at the top.

“Ms. L/N.” McGonagall called.

Fred wore a defeated look as I stood up from my seat, “The three components of love is: intimacy – which is defined as the closeness between people in personal relationships -, passion – which is a strong liking or desire -, and lastly, commitment – or being dedicated to the relationship, in my opinion, it is the most important component. Because intimacy and passion won’t prevail if there is no commitment in the relationship.”

She smiled, “That’s a perfect answer Y/N! Very well explained!” She praised.

I sat back down as McGonagall started to discuss, not being able to help the proud smile on my lips.

“Any more questions?” Professor McGonagall asks as she ends her presentation. Silence spreading through the lecture hall.

“Okay then, now before I dismiss you, I’ll briefly discuss your project. You are to make your own theory about love and you will do it in pairs. And I already decided your partners for you. I will read them aloud right now. There will be no complaining and no switching of partners.”

She then pulled up a file on her laptop and started reading out loud the names of the partners. That was until she read the last pair of names.

“Fred Weasley and Y/N L/N.”

“What?!” I whispered, turning to my best friend, Hermione, who was sitting next to me.

“Did I hear correctly? Out of every single person in this lecture hall, I’m partnered up with Fred?”

She nodded, “Yes, you heard correctly.”

I groaned, sinking back into my seat, “This is officially the worst project ever.”

Ginny chuckled, patting me comfortingly on the shoulder, “Well, as much as I feel sorry for you Y/N. It’s not like you have a choice.”

Even if Ginny is Fred’s younger sister, she was nothing like her brother. To be honest, I was friends with all the Weasleys, except Fred. It’s actually hard to believe that he came from the same family.

I glanced over to the side and saw that Fred wore the same look of horror on his face as he ranted to his buddies.

I stood up, shouldering my backpack as I marched down the steps towards McGonagall’s desk, vaguely aware that Fred was hot on my heels.

“Professor.” I said, “You can’t do this to us.”

She raised a brow at us, “Do what?”

“Partner Y/N and I up together for the project.” Fred answered.

“Why is that?” She asked, even though she already knew the answer.

I sighed, fiddling with the strap of my bag, “Professor, you know how Fred and I feel towards each other.” I said, glancing at Fred.

He ran a hand through his hair, “I hate to agree with her Professor, but she’s right.”

McGonagall pursed her lips, “Well, you two will just have to work with it. Like I said, no switching partners. And may I remind you Mr. Weasley and Ms. L/N, that this project contributes to 60% of your final grade. So, it’s either you give both of your best or you both fail.” She said, before walking out of the door, leaving both Fred and I alone in the now deserted lecture hall.

Fred groaned as he leaned against the desk, “What are we going to do now.”

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest, “Well, it’s not like we can do anything about it. Unless you want to fail, of course.” I said, before walking out of the hall, in search of Hermione and Ginny.

“No matter what you do.” Hermione said, looking up from her project with Ron, “You can’t avoid it. So, go and get this whole thing over with. Unless you want to fail.”

It’s been a week since McGonagall gave the project, and Hermione was right.

I groaned, taking my stuff as I walked towards the door of our dorm, “Well, failing is never an option.” I said, as I headed towards the library, where Fred and I agreed to rendezvous.

“So, what should we do?” I asked, sitting down in the seat across him.

He shrugged, not bothering to look up from whatever he was writing, “Well, in case you weren’t listening, we are supposed to make a theory about love.”

I took out my textbook and my laptop, placing it in front of me, “Obviously I know that. What I’m asking is what is our theory?”

He shrugged again, “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” I asked.

He sighed, finally looking up from his work, “I thought you were smart.” He said sarcastically, “You can’t even understand something as simple as ‘I don’t know.’”

It took all of my willpower to bite back a retort, “Look Weasley, I am trying so hard to be nice to you. I don’t want to be here and neither do you. So, will you please stop being so arrogant and stubborn so we could get over with this?”

Fred scoffed, “Me? Being arrogant and stubborn? I’m sorry, but I’m trying my best to make this work because I don’t want to fail just because of a self-centered, ignorant little minx like you.”

“Me?” I said, “So, all of a sudden, it’s my fault? I don’t want to fail either Weasley. And I didn’t ask to be paired up with you. You think you’re so good and you’re so much better than anyone else! When in reality, there’s always someone better than you!” I spat as I abruptly stood up from my chair.

Fred followed suit, towering over me due to the difference in height, “Oh yeah? And who might that be? You?”

He scoffed, “Of course it’s you! It’s always you! You think you’re such a genius! You act so tough and strong but in reality, you’re a coward, you’re a failure. You think that you’re so perfect, that you’re so flawless. But let me tell you, you have flaws. Everyone has flaws.”

“So, you think you’re so perfect then.” I said, glaring up at him, feeling a rush of emotion crash down on me, all at the same time.

“At least I know that I could fail and I work hard to avoid that. You on the other hand, don’t. That’s the difference between the two of us.” He said, not backing down.

That was when it felt like the whole world was crashing down on my shoulders, that’s when I became overwhelmed, the stress, the emotions, the built-up anger caught up with me. The thick tension in the atmosphere around us started suffocating me.

I collapsed back into the chair I was sitting on earlier, burying my head in my hands, as I slowly broke down into tears.

I heard the chair next to me move as it scrapped against the metal floor.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” I heard Fred’s voice ask, as he gently rubbed my back. I couldn’t come to believe that he was concerned for my well-being.

“Why do you care?” I asked in between tears.

“Because, no matter how much I despise you, my mum always told me that the worst thing a man can do to a girl is make her cry.” He said softly.

I looked up at him, a few tears still dripping down my cheeks, “Are you really concerned? Or you’re just looking for another reason to torment me?”

He smiled at me for the first time as I saw genuine concern in his eyes, “I’m really concerned.” He said, pulling me gently into a hug as I rested my head on his chest.

“So, why are you really crying?” He asked.

I took a deep breath, “I mean, I know I’m not perfect. Nobody is, but my biggest fear has always been failing. I’m an only child and when my parents found out that I’m academically gifted, it made me their greatest treasure, it made me their pride and joy. I’ve always been insecure about that, whether if I’m already good enough or not. And hearing somebody voice out those insecurities, felt a million times worst. That’s the reason why I’m always trying to one up you. Because, if I fail, I would go from my parents’ pride and joy to being the disappointment of the family in a split second. And it’s just so stressful. And with our little argument, I just got so overwhelmed by my emotions that I had to let it all out.” I explained.

At the back of my mind, I was aware of Fred’s demeanor changing in a snap. From the person I despised whom I was screaming at minutes ago, to the person who was now bringing me comfort. He handled me so gently in my fragile state, as if I was made of glass, that it would have been hard to recognize him as my sworn enemy.

To anybody who would pass by, they would’ve been so confused at the sight. Me with my head on Fred’s chest, as he comfortingly rubbed my back while his other hand gently ran through my hair as he apologized over and over again.

I just wanted to stay in our small bubble. I wouldn’t admit it out loud but, I like this side of Fred better, the quiet, caring, gentle side of him.

“We’re not so different after all.” He said, breaking the silence that lingered between the two of us.

“What do you mean?” I asked, slightly confused.

Fred started to explain, “The pressure that’s being put down on us. Well, you’ve met Bill, Charlie and Percy, right? Bill’s prefect and head boy and he’s got amazing grades. Charlie has a very successful business. And Percy is basically the epitome of the perfect student. So, this puts a lot of pressure on me. That, in order to make Mum and Dad happy, then I have to be just like them. That’s why I’m always trying to compete with you. So, we’re not that different after all.” He finished with a reassuring smile.

I looked up at him, offering a small smile, “You’re right. Why don’t we call a truce for now? And when the project’s finish and being friends doesn’t work out for us, then we can go back to our old ways.” I said, offering my hand.

He took it and gave it a small shake, “Deal. And don’t you hate agreeing with me?”

I shook my head, “No. Because: one, I like this side of you better. And two, you do have a point.”

“Falling for me already L/N?” He teased.

I laughed, shaking my head, “In your dreams Weasley.”

We then started to work, sharing our ideas and concepts and working it out together.

We decided to call it a day when it was around 1 in the morning.

“So, we’ll rendezvous same place tomorrow?” I asked.

He nodded, “Sure.” Then he started fidgeting with the strap of his bag.

“Is there anything wrong?” I asked, seeing his nervousness.

He gave a shy smile, “Well, it’s just that your dorm is 6 blocks from here. And I just don’t want you to walk out there alone. So, if you want, you can stay at my dorm for the night, I’ll even sleep on the couch. But, if you’re not comfortable with that, then I could always walk you home.”

I chuckled, “Should I be suspicious if you have any hidden agenda on taking me back to your dorm?” I joked.

Fred laughed, raising his hand in mock surrender, “I have no such intentions. I’m only worrying about your safety. Like I said, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

I smiled, “Okay then. I’ll just send a quick text to Hermione so she wouldn’t worry about my whereabouts.”

I took out my phone, searching for Hermione in my contacts and sending a text to her.

>Hey ‘Mione. I’m not coming home tonight. I’ll be staying the night at Fred’s place.

I received her reply immediately.

>Woah, woah, I thought you despised him and his whole existence? What made you want to stay the night at his place?

<We called a truce, see how being friends works out for the both of us. Turns out we’re similar in a lot of ways.

>Yeah, and that includes staying the night at his dorm?

<Hermione, I’m ready to give him the benefit of the doubt. He deserves a chance. Besides, he swore that he has no hidden agenda and he’ll be sleeping on the couch.

I blushed as I read her reply, secretly hoping that Fred didn’t notice.

>Okay, I’m not saying that you’re making a reckless decision. But, at least the two of you are putting your differences aside. Who knows? You two might end up together.

>Hermione!

<What? I’m just saying ;)

“So,” Fred said, standing by my side a bit awkwardly, “What did she say?”

I licked my lips, “She’s fine with it.”

He grinned, “Okay then, let’s get going then.”

When we arrived at his dorm, it was more organized than I expected it to be.

“Your roommate is George, right?” I asked, placing my bag on a nearby chair.

He nodded, “Yeah. But he’s at Angelina’s dorm, so we basically have the place to ourselves.”

He headed to his room, coming out with a sweater and a pair of shorts in his grasp, then handing them to me.

“The bathroom is down the hall to the left.” He said as I gave him a grateful smile.

After I had changed, Fred had already set up his makeshift bed on the couch.

I bit my lip as I pulled my hair back into a messy bun, I felt like this was too much. I know that Fred was trying to make a good impression on our new-found friendship, but I didn’t want to abuse his kindness.

“Fred, I appreciate that you’re trying to make a kind gesture, but I’ll take the couch.” I said, gently.

He shook his head, a small smile on his lips, “No, it’s fine. I insist.”

I placed my hand on top of his, “You’re already letting me stay here for the night. So, I’m not kicking you out of your own bed. Let me be the one who’s doing something for you other than glare and bicker.” I joked.

He laughed, “Okay, fine. But just because that I have a feeling that if we go on, we’ll never meet the end.”

After turning the lights off, we then took the break we both can agree we deserve.

I woke up at 5 am, surprisingly, the couch was extremely comfortable and I haven’t felt this rested ever since my first year of College.

I stretched for a bit, for the first time in my life, I felt lazy. Turning onto my side, giving myself five more minutes of peace and tranquility before I had to get up. I took a deep breath, inhaling the lingering scent of Fred from the sweater I was wearing, which just added to the calm atmosphere in my little bubble of relaxation.

Five minutes transitioned into an hour, that’s when I knew that I really had to get up.

I slowly walked to Fred’s room, opening the door a bit to take a peek inside.

The ginger was still fast asleep, his hair sticking up in all directions while his soft snores bounced of the walls of the room.

I leaned against the door frame, vaguely aware of the small smile that had seem to grow on my lips. I had to admit, he looked kind of cute.

I headed to the kitchen, deciding to cook some breakfast for the two of us.

“Smells good.” Fred said as he emerged from his room an hour later, just as I had finished cooking.

He sat at the table as I slid his plate of pancakes in front of him.

He raised a brow, “Should I be suspicious if you have any hidden agenda in making me pancakes?” He asked, quoting my words from the previous night.

I laughed, sitting down on the seat across him, “Not at all. Just think of it as a token of my appreciation.”

He then took a bite as I watched him closely in anticipation.

“It’s better than anything I’ve ever had before.” He said with a small grin.

I breathed out a breath that I hadn’t realized that I was holding in, “Thank goodness.” I said.

“You know,” Fred said a few moments later, “For someone who I’ve been on bad terms with ever since our first year of College, you’re an amazing cook.”

I chuckled, “It’s kind of funny isn’t it? We’re in our last year of College and we’ve done nothing but spend the last three years bickering and all that stuff.”

The door of Fred’s dorm suddenly flew open as George stepped in.

“Hey Freddie, I’m home! Woah.” He was suddenly taken aback at the sight of Fred and I sitting at the dining table.

“Do my eyes deceive me?” He said, “Because I am seeing the two of you in the same room and there’s no tension in the air.”

I smiled, “Yeah, we decided to call a truce to work on the project and we would see how being friends works out for the both of us.”

“You’ve got to try her pancakes mate.” Fred piped in, “There’re the best you’ve ever tasted.”

George took the fork that his brother offered him, “Merlin! I never knew you were a cook Y/N.”

I chuckled, “It’s just something I work on in my free time.”

“Looks like being friends would work out in more than one way for the both of you.” He said with a small wink.

After breakfast, Fred walked me back to my dorm, because we both knew how much of a worry-wart Hermione can get.

“So, I’ll be seeing you in the library later?” He asked.

“You bet.” I said, before entering my dorm.

Hermione and Ginny were waiting for me inside, to my surprise, they didn’t bombard me with questions.

“So, how was giving Fred the benefit of the doubt?” Hermione asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

I shrugged, plopping my bag down on the couch, “It was pretty good.”

Ginny placed her chin on her hand while her elbow rested on the table, “A little birdy told me that you cooked breakfast for Fred.”

I playfully rolled my eyes, “Let me guess, the birdy was named George. And yes, I did make breakfast for Fred and I. It was just a token of my appreciation.”

“Yeah, right.” Hermione muttered under her breath with a small smile.

“I heard that Hermione.” I said, causing the two of them to burst out into laughter.

We only had a week left to complete the project.

Fred and I were sitting in the library, laptops running, there was almost no more space on the table with the number of books that were opened on top of it.

As I was drafting out the key points in our theory, when Fred tapped me on the shoulder, handing me a cup of coffee.

“Thanks.” I said, taking the cup from him and taking a small sip, “How much is it?”

“It’s on me.” He said, “You already paid for the printing of the project, the least I could do was get you some coffee.”

We sat in silence for a few more minutes, the sound of the typing on the keyboard being the only noises that could be heard.

“So, what happens to us after this project?” Fred suddenly asked.

I stopped typing, looking up at him, “Well, it looks like being friends seem to be working out for us.”

Fred chuckled, running a hand through his hair, “Yeah, I actually kind of like it when you’re smiling and you’re not shooting me glares and stuff.”

“Ditto.” I said, “Ever since I’ve discovered your soft and sweet side, I don’t want that to change.”

“But is being friends enough for us? What if one of us wants more?” He asked.

I looked at him, slightly confused, “What do you me-“ but my sentence was suddenly cut short, when he crashed his lips to mine.

I placed my hand at the back of his neck, pulling me closer to him as he rested his hands on my waist.

He then lifted me up and set me down on a free space on the table, kissing me as if there was not tomorrow.

We pulled apart, foreheads pressed together, both of us blushing like mad.

“That’s what I mean.” He whispered, “Because I love you. More than a friend, more than my enemy. I want you and nobody else but you. So, will you be mine?”

I giggled, pulling him in for another kiss before answering, “I’d love nothing more than to be yours.”

“Unravelling Love’s Mystery.” Professor McGonagall read the title of our theory as Fred and I stood in front of her.

Class has already been dismissed, the three of us being the only ones left in the room.

“Your theory was very interesting.” She complimented, “Especially since you two found it fit to insert your own love story in it.”

Fred and I smiled, “Well Professor, we thought that it went with the central theme of the theory.”

McGonagall offered us a smile, “The two of you have the most outstanding project in the class. I have graded it with full marks.” She said.

I felt Fred interlock our hands together, “Thank you Professor.” We both said.

Then Fred placed an arm around my waist, placing a kiss on my temple, “As much as we would love to stay and chat Professor, we have to go so we don’t miss our date at the movies.”

Our professor laughed, “Go on ahead, don’t let me stop you. I have been working at this institution for years, but the two of you are the cutest couple I have ever seen.”

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝:

@lumosandnoxwriting @wand3ringr0s3 @famdomhideout @nova-darling @gaycatlord-stuff @pandaxnienke @escapingrealitybyreading (If you are crossed out, that means I can’t tag you)

#fredweasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fredweasleyimagines #fred weasley fluff #fredweasleyfanfic #fredweasleyoneshots #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fredweasleysmut #fred weasley angst #hpimagines #college!au #muggle!au #enemies to lovers

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friendlylocalwhumper · 3 years

Text

retirement

“Adrian, how smart phones were developed. Your expert is Mrs. Langley.”

The class murmurs with jealousy as Adrian is assigned a teacher - not only is she fun and friendly, but she works in this same building. An easy assignment. Someone mutters about how he got an easy one because he’s the teacher’s nephew.

“Kristen, the politics of the nineties. You have a retired senator to interview for this one, isn’t that fun?”

The goody-two-shoes students make impressed, interested sounds, while the rest shift in their seats waiting to hear who they’ll be assigned.

“Okay, this next one will be a group of three, because the source always talks too much for one student to catch all the details.” She opens her mouth to continue, but already, kids are groaning.

“Not the one from-”

“Not the old-”

“Come on, Mrs.-”

She speaks over them, used to the complaints by now. “Sheela, Maxim, and Zach, you three have Quinn Mae. You’ll be interviewing them about-”

“The history of the magic community,” Recite the three named students in unison, one rolling their eyes, one slouching in their seat, and one clenching their jaw.

“Yes. That one’s just down the street, so I don’t want any excuses. A late assignment isn’t acceptable at this level. I want an essay from each of you. Mx. Mae will give you plenty to work with, so no copying.”

The retirement home is nice enough, all neat and studded with simple, pleasantly neutral furniture. The generic art on the walls gives an aura of charming, if manufactured peace. The deep ticking of a grandfather clock warms the lobby. A smiling lady at the front desk offers caramel candies to all who drag their feet past her.

None of it quite makes up for the walkers left lying around, or the smell of old people, or the tired sass of the caretakers walking around briskly. To a couple of teenagers, it’s the worst place in the world to be. Boring beyond measure, and the old ladies will grab you by the wrist to say something about how your hair looks, or what you’re wearing, or whether they think you’re their grandkid.

The receptionist informs the kids that the senior citizen they’re looking for is on this floor, with all the residents who don’t need supervision. “Quinn Mae is a feisty one,” She says with a fond smile. “They’re all mild-mannered, know all the right things to say, until suddenly your name tag is missing, and they’ll only give it back if you catch them with it. Smug little smile. Watch your wallets and phones, kids.”

Maxim is the only one who doesn’t smile politely at the advice and very adult-like oversharing. The three proceed into the lobby, briefly arguing about which hallway the receptionist said to go down.

“You three lost?” Says some old bag of bones on the lobby couch, wrinkly fingers wrapped around the edges of a newspaper. Thin wire-framed glasses sit low on a flat nose, hanging on for dear life. Dull white hair lies in limp curls on slender shoulders, big faded freckles spread across cheeks that have seen more sun than any other retiree that ambles past.

“No, sir,” Sheela says with bare-minimum politeness.

“Not sir,” Sasses the old person gently, folding their newspaper.

“Uh. Sorry, ma’am.”

“Not that either. Were you asking about Quinn Mae at the front desk?”

“Yeah. You know ‘em? What room’re they in?” Asks Maxim, stepping forward. His bushy eyebrows are cocked with frustration and slight amusement, as if anything the retiree says will be made fun of later.

The senior citizen gives a bare smile, a hint of a quirk to thin lips. “Room one-seven-three, young man.”

The students talk amongst themselves, eager to agree that that was the number the receptionist gave them and get away from this old person who will surely trap them in boring conversation if they linger. Off they go, down a hallway they were gravitating toward anyway, searching for room 173.

Five minutes later, they’re back, looking disgruntled. “Unless Quinn Mae’s disguised as an old lesbian couple, wrong room, old guy,” Grumbles bushy-brows.

“Not a guy,” Reminds the lobby couch-warmer. “Forgive me, you said Quinn Mae? That’ll be room one-twenty-six.”

Off they go again, the grumpy boy nudging at the girl who glances back at the retiree paging through a newspaper and pointedly not watching them go down a different hallway this time.

It’s ten minutes later, this time, that the kids return. One of the boys goes over to the front desk while Maxim and Sheela return to the old person on the couch.

“Okay. Try again, grandpa. Not one-seventy-three, not one-twenty-six. Quinn Mae. Where is Quinn Mae? We’re here from the high school, doing a school project. Old geezer probably talked about us coming, all excited, since nothing else happens here. Where’s Quinn Mae?”

Sheela’s looking at this person with white curls, wise brown eyes, and a slowly spreading, sly smile. She doesn’t join in as Maxim grills them for answers. The retiree looks over the disgruntled boy, then finally meets the girl’s eyes.

“You’re Mae, aren’t you?” She accuses.

Finally, that newspaper is folded and lowered. Quinn nods.

Just in time for them all to hear from across the lobby as the receptionist sighs and nods to the couch, informing Zach, “That’s Quinn Mae right there. They gave you the runaround, didn’t they?”

Maxim looks flustered, but Sheela speaks first. “Mr. Mae-”

“Mx. Mae, if you please.”

“Yeah. Sorry. Mx. Mae, we’re supposed to ask you about the history of the magic community.”

Quinn gives a soft, wobbly hum. They flip over the paper in their hands and run an age-softened finger over a line of text. “Young Man Found Beaten, Rescued. That’s what this article is titled. That sound odd to you?”

Sheela shakes her head. Maxim frowns.

“The article goes on to mention that the young man has magic. Mentioned, not announced as the clear reason he deserved to be beaten. When I was forty, this headline would’ve been, Warlock Found Alive, Scaring Citizens.” Approaching to listen, the other boy, Zach, winces at the word warlock. That word hasn’t been okay to use for years. “When I was your age, there wouldn’t have been a story printed in the paper about it at all.”

“Yeah. They were killed in the streets back then. No statistics on it ‘cause no one cared. We know all this,” Complains Maxim. “Times changed.”

Brown eyes scan across the teens before settling on the one who spoke. “You remind me of someone I used to know,” Replies Mae, looking wistful for a moment before they add, “Someone unintelligent. Times haven’t changed much if a person with magic is still beaten for being warlock scum, have they?”

“Language, Quinn,” Reminds one of the caregivers, pushing a cart of sheets and towels over to the service elevator.

“Oh, heavens, did I do it again? I’m sorry, Julie!” They offer her a kind, harmless smile until she’s out of sight. The teenagers catch a glimpse of the retiree rolling their eyes. “The younger ones don’t understand. I’ll forgive them for it, it’s what I fought for. The luxury to be ignorant without it costing lives.”

None of this aged-revolutionary talk impresses the kids. One of them even looked incensed by it. Quinn’s eyes, having wandered off to ponder their memories, lock onto the one who stands out from the group.

“What’s your name?”

“Maxim,” Says the one who reminds them of Major. They miss him, the old idiot. He used to cause so much trouble.

“Maxim. Do you have something you’d like to say?”

Glancing at his classmates, the young man shrugs one shoulder. “Nah. Just keep talking, we’ll get something we can use.”

“I’d love to help you all with your assignment. Your teacher informed me that you’ll fail this class if you don’t hand in an acceptable essay, each of you.” The newspaper has one corner folded back neatly that they play with slowly as they watch the three kids before them. “But I know someone who hates magic when I see them. If you want me to help someone like that to pass an advanced class, you’ll all have to do better than this. I don’t want to teach you about the history I lived through. I want each of you to study it on your own, come present what you learned to me, and show me that you have the base understanding to even believe what I’ll tell you.”

Maxim turns to leave, uninterested, ready to pay someone to write his essay for him. Zach looks anxious, mouth opening to make excuses and beg for Quinn to just tell them what they need to know to get their project done.

Sheela watches Quinn. Just stands there and waits, judging whether they’re being honest. Quinn leans back in the lobby’s couch and beams.

“You. I’ll tell you everything you want to know. The others, they have to hear it from you. I want you to retell my stories before you write anything down on paper.”

“I’d type it on my phone, no one uses paper for notes anymore,” She argues mildly.

“Fine. You’ll relay it by word of mouth, then take the notes on your phone. Do we have a deal, Miss…”

“Sheela. Yeah, that’s - we can do that. Right?”

Maxim sighs and turns back around, glaring but grumbling his agreement. Zach nods to show he accepts the terms as well.

“Wonderful,” Says Quinn, standing with all the aches of a senior citizen, but the glowing energy of someone about to do their favorite thing. “Let’s go out for a walk. We’ll start with the war and go from there.”

#whump #drabble #recovery #i had so much fun writing this!#fluff #letting quinn live to get this old is like the comfiest kindest thing i can do #characters in this verse usually die before they hit the age of 25 #but quinn makes it! and they ended up causing a lot of change in their society!#i'm proud of them they're so good #lil old quinn bullying teenagers #mine #quinn

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whipped-cream-writings · 4 years

Text

Midnight Coffee

In which you say something that you think no one will hear. Unfortunately for you, someone does. And that someone happens to be Akaashi.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: None

A/N: Tumblr just keep it in the tags!! I’m not a bot I’m just super annoyed at this point >:(

Anyway, thank you @poccosticks and @emmicchi for being wonderful and helping me out with this!! Go give them lots of love! And thank you to my followers who have to deal with this. I’m so sorry but this is the last time I’m reposting!!

You should not be drinking coffee at 1AM.

But was it really your fault? There was so much homework. There was a test tomorrow and an essay that’s due at eight AM that was worth 100 points. It wasn’t your fault that you were doing it now, either - it was assigned two days ago and it had to be at least seven pages.

“Focus.” A soft voice reminds you. “The faster you finish, the sooner we can go to bed.”

“We?” You echo. You dragged your gaze from your bright computer screen to see him sitting cross-legged on your bed, a book on his lap.

“As in you’ll go to sleep in your bed, and I’ll go home and sleep in mine.” Akaashi’s smile is crooked as he looks up from his book. “But I wouldn’t mind either way.”

The shock you feel is just as effective as coffee. “Huh?”

“I sleep at Bokuto’s house all the time. Sometimes I even carry a pillow and blanket in my bag just in case.”

You can’t tell if that strange feeling in your stomach is relief or disappointment. You don’t have enough time to acknowledge it. Acknowledging it leads to thinking about it and that leads to thinking about him and-

“Oh. Must be tiring.” You respond, cutting yourself off.

“I’ve gotten used to it.” He sighs, laying on his back as he turns the page once again.

You turn back to the blank document in front of you and start to type up your paper. Will it be obvious that you’re typing up the paper six hours before it’s due? Maybe, but you don’t really care at this point. As long as you get a grade that’s higher than a D, then it’s fine.

You feel like someone is staring at you after page one is complete. A prickly feeling spreads all over your back and you turn to look at him.

“Do you need something?” You wonder aloud. Why was he staring at you? Not that you were mad about it, but-

“I think your formatting’s off.” He blurts, standing up from his spot on your bed and walking over to your desk.

You rub your stinging eyes and ask, “How so?”

“It’s MLA, right?” You nod, “Remove the empty line in between the paragraph and title.” He gestures to the gaps and hits delete before your brain even registered what he said.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.” He gives you a small smile and walks back to where he left his book. You look at him for a moment longer before kicking yourself mentally and typing away.

It’s been about three years since you’ve met Akaashi, and you’ve been friends with him for two and a half. A year ago, your perception of him changed drastically. You don’t know what did it. Was it because of his willingness to help anyone at his own expense? Or was it his dedication and how responsible he was? You weren’t sure.

But you did know that you were smitten with him. Did he know that too? Maybe, but he’d never show that. A small part of you hoped he didn’t know and that he’d never find out. That would ruin the friendship, wouldn’t it? Even if it did work out, then how long would you two last? Would it end in a way that would make you two hate each other?

No, you told yourself. You had an essay to finish. You can think about that later, when he’s not reading in your bedroom.

You’re making fast progress. That coffee must’ve helped a lot more than you thought it did. Sure, your leg is shaking uncontrollably under the desk, but it’s a small price to pay for a passing grade.

The words are coming easy and your thoughts are organized just enough for it to make sense. The bottom of page three is so close, and it’s only been an hour! Or maybe two? You’re not sure, but checking the time will stress you out, so you keep going.

You put in earbuds once you get to page four. Three more pages and then you can go to bed.

Well, that’s assuming the coffee will let you sleep.

It’s now 4AM.

And your essay is done. You skim through it and hit submit once it��s ready, letting out a long sigh of relief. You turn to your bed, tempted to just flop down, but something stops you.

He’s still here.

The book is covering his face, but you can hear the smallest, quietest snores coming from under the book. His hand is dangling off the edge of the bed.

He’s asleep.

If your heart could burst out of your chest, it probably just did.

How long has he been here? Is he cold? You delicately take the book off of his face.

He looks so peaceful like this. It’s… really nice to see, actually. Today he looked stressed to you, so now, seeing him relax, it made your insides all warm and fuzzy.

You stop staring (after realizing that it’s kind of creepy) and place the blanket over him. You’ll have to sleep on the floor tonight, but you don’t mind.

You grab an extra blanket and pillow and place it on the floor. It makes your back hurt but it’s fine.

You sigh and try to get as comfortable as you can.

The thoughts come rushing back instantly. It’s hard for them not to, since he’s less than a foot away from you and he’s asleep. Maybe… maybe saying your thoughts would make you feel better. Maybe it wouldn’t feel so suffocating if you just said the words.

You hold his hand and take a deep breath. Why did it feel so hard? He was asleep and he wouldn’t know. He would never know. That was the plan.

So you say the words.

“I love you.”

It’s barely a murmur. It sounded light, partially because it was a whisper, but it contained all of the emotions that you’d been holding in for so, so long.

You let go of his hand. Yeah, you’re feeling a lot better. Now all you need is a good night’s-

Something grabs your hand in the darkness.

And it squeezes your hand gingerly, like you might break.

No.

This isn’t real, this can’t be real.

This is some sort of nightmare.

You look up and in the faint moonlight streaming through the window, you can see eyes. In particular, there are sapphire eyes staring down at you.

“I’m glad.” He whispers, voice raspy from just waking up. “Because I love you too.”

You’re silent. How are you supposed to respond? If a brain could melt, yours was. Yours had melted as soon as he grabbed your hand.

Words died on your tongue and you stared at him with a dumbfounded look. He laughed a little and a small smile blossomed on his face.

The moonlight is blocked by him and you don’t have time to say anything.

Because he’s kissing you.

His movements are delicate, his thumb rubbing your knuckles tenderly. His lips are a little chapped but you find that you don't mind. You close your eyes, letting yourself enjoy the sensation. You feel his free hand tilt your chin up just a little more.

But it gets to a point when neither of you can breathe, and break away, with barely enough space for your heavy breaths.

“Were you actually asleep?”

“I heard you moving around a little and it woke me up.” He admits. You try to apologize when he shakes his head. “I didn’t mind one bit.”

“Thank you.” He nods a little and lays back down.

“We can talk in the morning.” He notices your sleeping area and moves back, making space for you as well.

There are no more words spoken for the rest of the night. There’s only you, Akaashi, and your hearts beating in unison.

Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate everything you guys do! My requests are open so feel free to request anything you’d like! I hope you have a wonderful day 💕

#haikyuu akaashi #akaashi x y/n #akaashi x reader #akaashi keji x reader #akaashi fanfiction #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! x y/n #akaashi oneshot #haikyuu!!#my fics #whipped cream writings #please this is the third time I've posted it just stay in the tags

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lifeexperience · 3 years

Text

MariBat March 2021 - Full-time

Masterlist - Half time closure

I finished the 'A playboy billionaire, an ambassador and the secret love-child' fan-fiction. And as some of you, who followed it, already know that was only a first part of a bigger story.

The series name is...

Brucie Wayne and his only "normal" child

It's also a link to my AO3 account. Furthermore it's not the second part's title, however I will not tell the sequel's name yet. It will remain secret until the 1th in May.

Why May?

First of all I am writing for my own enjoyment (next to practicing a really inconsistent language) and I am also a little perfectionist from some point of view. If something is not the way I think it's right, I will do it again and again and again. That's why I need to plan ahead so I don't fall in that hole. Again.

And right now, if I want a good enough quality, then I need a little break on the posting in relation with this story. Not the writing, because I am working on it as building the plot up with more details, but for my own peace I don't update this since it's not finished in my head completely.

Then what?

In April I would like to update on my other things, like my Daminette 2020 extended version (With you), and maybe some oneshots.

Why I don't do tagging?

It's simple: it's useless if I make a Masterlist for the stories and updating it daily. So I am sorry if you asked to be tagged and it didn't happened, but - as in my blog's description - I am using Masterlists and with them everybody can easily follow the updates.

Why closures?

It's fun to look back what I built, and how I can lose my sense in it. Kind of funny how many times I wrote a little essay on the ends of some days to support why I chose that event or that behavior from that particular character.

As I read the comments in AO3 and here, it was really interesting how a lot of you reacted on Damian or mainly Lila. I -personally- don't hate Lila's characterization, however I don't like how they dumb down everybody else to confront her 'manipulation'. Because, if we want to be honest, it happens time and time again as someone sue someone other what they posted on the internet about them.

About the Court of Owls?

Court of Owls is kind of an international crime syndicate with interest in power-plays. They are an old organization based in Gotham and spreading the world (in Robin War), however at first they were only introduced in New52 era with Batman (2011) series. (It's a really good story line with awesome artists. I recommend it.) However I would like to use them as they were portrayed as in Rebirth Nightwing (2016), which is not that different than their before-picture. However their focus is more on recruiting potential Talons then doing power-play with them. That's why I used Raptor (Nightwing #1) to appear, who is someone from Dick Grayson's past and was a spy in the Court of Owls. He has/had connections with the Owls and with the Bat family too. (In love with Nightwing's mother, kidnapping Bruce Wayne, judging Dick about his current life.) He is an interesting character, and I wanted to see how he can grow with the influence of the Parliament. (And the Owls had the methods to persuade to switch sides willingly or unwillingly.)

And last but not least...

Thank you for all of you who followed this story and my newer MariBat experiment. There is more, but sometimes to make someone a little happy, it's enough to leave a like or some kind words. And lot of you did that.

T H A N K Y O U !

So I hope everyone is alright (or will be alright) and try to see the positive things in his/her/their world.

And at least we will meet in May.

#Maribatmarch2021 #maribat march #maribat #2021 #closure

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gravelyhumerus · 4 years

Text

Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter 3

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Title: “I may just take your breath away”

Relationship: Jemily

Summary:

It's midterm season and Emily runs into JJ at the library, they decide to study together.

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

There were no seats left in this entire goddamned library. Not a single one. Emily was on her second lap on the third floor, desperate for somewhere to sit down and have some peace and quiet to study for her test. She should have assumed this would happen. It was midterm season and the libraries were packed with students around this time each year.

She quietly made her way through the stacks and came upon a long, rectangular table near the back window. It overlooked a dark parking lot. The books were gigantic tombs of old academic journals that no one had probably even opened in decades.

There were eight seats and seven people, with one selfish asshole storing their backpack on the empty seat. Well, could be saving it for their friend, but with it being midterm season, those rules really shouldn’t apply anymore.

Emily braced herself and, with a smile, tapped the boy on the shoulder.

He had a large pair of headphones on. He lifted one side off his ear in a gesture of: ‘what do you want.’

“Is anyone sitting there?” She whispered, as quietly as she could, pointing to the seat next to him.

“Oh sorry,” he said, somewhat reluctantly, moving the coat and bag, inviting her to join him. She smiled in thanks and sat down.

Carefully unpacking her laptop and books, Emily tried to avoid disturbing the other folks at her table, the silence making each noise she made boom through the library. She settled down and pulled out her thermos, taking a sip of her coffee and bracing herself for a long night.

Her core classes for psychology were brutal, filled with endless memorization of terminology, stacks of mandatory books to read and countless essays.

At 8:30 the next morning it was her Introduction to Clinical Psychology midterm, worth a whopping thirty percent of her grade. She spent the entire day, between classes, at the Starbucks on campus, drinking her way through her student funds in coffee form and making endless flashcards.

She already had a stack of almost one hundred cards and she still had a couple hours of work left.

Just returning from dinner at the cafeteria, Emily had decided that she needed the relative quiet of the massive campus library to focus on the memorization period of her evening.

She flipped to the right page of her textbook: page 315, with a large header reading “SEXUAL DISORDERS” in large caps. Emily sighed, it was a strange thing to spend her time learning but at least it never failed to be interesting.

At least she wasn’t in Statistics this semester.

Emily took another sip of coffee, then rummaged through her bag for her wireless headphones, connecting them to her phone in order to play her studying playlist, which was mostly movie soundtracks, interspersed with Emily’s favourite classical music and of course, some lo-fi hip hop beats. She could not listen to music with words when studying, she would get too distracted and get nothing done.

Emily began gnawing at her thumbnail, focusing on writing down the definitions.

After around two hours of writing, Emily finally finished her flashcards. She stretched her back, closed her textbook, and went on her phone for a short break.

A Snapchat notification popped up on her screen.

Cheetobreath98 added you as a friend.

Emily frowned. Who on earth was that? Emily clicked on the profile, revealing the familiar face of Jennifer Jareau.

JJ had added her as a friend! On snapchat no less! That was at least three steps more intimate than Instagram.

Woah. Slow down there Em. She told herself. Don’t make it something it’s not.

They kept running into each other. JJ was probably just being friendly. She probably just wanted to say thank you for the cookies or send her funny snaps of the other students on their floor.

She has a boyfriend, a boyfriend she is having trouble with, but a boyfriend nonetheless. You can’t go around thinking about intimacy and Jennifer Jareau in the same sentence.

Emily accepted the friend request. Did that make them friends now? Emily hoped so. They could be friends.

As Emily stared at their chat, a new snap from JJ came in. Emily couldn’t help herself, she opened it immediately and she was met with a photo… of herself.

Emily’s head shot up looking around. She looked back down and it was clearly a photo of Emily, hunched over the desk with her head resting on her chin, staring down at her phone, taken from somewhere to her left.

JJ waved at her from between some books. Emily shot her a surprised smile in response.

She closed her laptop, stood, and walked over to her.

“Creeper,” Emily whispered with a giggle.

JJ had a large textbook and some notebooks in her arms, and a backpack hanging off one shoulder, and leaned in towards Emily to speak quietly, which let Emily catch the light, fruity smell of her perfume, blending nicely with the earthy smell of the old books around them.

“Guilty as charged,” JJ smiled.

“What are you working on?” Emily asked, gesturing at her heavy load, she leaned and took a peek at the title of the textbook.

“French,” JJ said, “It’s hard to bullshit that when you don’t know it. I’ve got a midterm tomorrow.”

“Bien sûr,” Emily replied confidently in French.

JJ blinked.

“Tu parles Français?” JJ’s French was shaky and uncertain, with less of an accent than Emily would expect.

Emily coughed quietly and tried to clear her throat.

“I do,” she replied in French, “I’ve been told that when I was a toddler, I was speaking it more fluently than English.”

JJ glanced down, seeming to be translating her words for a brief moment before replying, slowly, clearly excited to use Emily for practise.

“Are you French?”

“No,” Emily said, “My mom wasn’t around much when we were living in France and the nanny didn’t speak English.”

“Ton nurse?” JJ asked, not knowing the definition of ‘nanny’ in French.

“Oh uh,” Emily replied in English, “My nanny, the lady who watched me when my mom was working. She’s an ambassador.”

JJ nodded, then switched to English. She didn’t ask about Emily’s dad, which Emily was grateful for.

“My family is French, originally I guess,” JJ said, “Hence Jareau , the French name. I remember my grandparents speaking it when I was growing up. I only learned a few words from them so I thought I’d take a course here. I need language courses for my communications degree anyways.”

“Your French is good!” Emily assured her. “Honestly mine is getting rusty, I have no one to practise on.”

“Well,” JJ said between coughs, “you could tutor me?”

Emily smiled. An opportunity to spend more time with her? She would take it. She nodded.

“Mais oui!” Emily replied in her most dramatic accent that she could manage, sending both girls into a fit of giggles.

“Shhhhh!” Someone at Emily’s table hissed.

The two girls made eye contact, then burst into another fit of giggles.

“I have a study room booked for nine,” JJ said, “If you want to join me.”

“Absolutely,” Emily replied, “I have a midterm tomorrow as well, so I’ll be here for awhile.”

“Allons-y!” JJ whisper-yelled.

Emily collected her things and followed JJ into a room down the hall, tucked behind the stacks. Inside, was a desk, a couple of white boards and a small window facing into the quad. It was small, with only two chairs. It was shocking that JJ even managed to snag that, the booking system filled up days in advance during midterm season.

“I hate whispering,” Emily said at normal volume once the door was shut.

“Libraries are supposed to be quiet,” JJ said.

“I’ve never been good at quiet.”

JJ laughed.

Emily sat down next to her, stealing a glance at JJ while she was distracted: she had a pair of track pants, with a loose fitted t-shirt on top, a pastel blue which complemented her skin tone well. On top, she had her varsity hoodie unzipped, with their school’s crest on display. She looked good, as always, despite being in basically athletic sweats looking ready to go to the gym at any moment.

Emily placed her books down next to JJ at the table, stacking her flash cards neatly next to it. JJ’s eyes widened at the sight of the pile.

“You don’t have to help if you don’t have time,” JJ said, “Honestly I would just appreciate the company.”

“Nonsense,” Emily replied, “I’d be happy to help. I’ve been working on these flash cards all day, I need a break anyways. How ‘bout we work through your practise sheets, then you quiz me after? What’s your test on?”

“Conjugation,” JJ replied, flipping her notes open to a page full of irregular verbs and their conjugations.

“Oh sweet,” Emily scanned the notes, “Present tense, I can do this.”

Emily leaned back in her chair, pulling her feet up to sit crossed-legged.

“I was worried you were going to ask me the difference between plus-que-parfait and subjonctif or something.”

“I don’t even know what that is.”

“Lucky,” Emily said.

JJ then reached into her bag, pulling out a small case and revealing a pair of glasses—reading glasses—and put them onto her face. They were gold rimmed, round framed, and made her eyes slightly larger with the magnification.

“You-” Emily stuttered, her brain feeling like it was short circuiting at the sight of JJ, “Have glasses?”

“Yeah,” JJ muttered flipping through her notebook, “I don’t really need them but I’ve been staring at screens all day and my eyes are tired.”

“Nerd,” Emily fake-coughs. JJ’s draw drops and she hits Emily playfully with her notebook, whacking her on the arm lightly.

“You promised to help me, not mock me for my bad eyes,” JJ huffs.

“Ok fine let’s conjugate… hmmm… ‘voir’ to start,” Emily jokes, spinning her pen between her fingers.

“I know you’re kidding but I actually don’t know that one.”

Emily grins and begins explaining to her how to conjugate ‘to see’ in French.

“Now,” Emily says, “If you want to talk about how I can see, and you can’t—because you’re blind—you would write: Emily voit. Emily sees.”

“Elle voit? V-o-i-t?”

“Oui, et, Jennifer ne voit pas!” Emily giggles, “Jennifer does not see!”

“Ha-ha,” JJ says, not laughing.

“Sorry, I’ll stop now,” Emily says, picking up the worksheet and reading it over.

“Basically,” JJ says, “I need to just memorize this list of common irregular verbs by tomorrow. I already have the regular er, ir and re verbs down.”

“Cocky girl,” Emily said. “I like it.”

“Ok what verb should we start with?”

“Vouloir,” Emily said, “to want.”

The deeper meaning of this was not lost on her, even as she said it. Emily was far past the point of denying it to herself, or Morgan when he teased her, Emily wanted JJ.

“Start with je,” Emily continued, unfazed by her own internal monologue. “What do you want?”

“Je veux… un biscuit,” JJ said, sticking her pen in her mouth. She was so cute when she focused, chewing distractedly on the cap, with her glasses falling down her nose.

“Now what would I want?” Emily prompted, trying to focus back on the worksheet and not JJ in profile, gazing at the gentle slope of her nose, her pink lips that would probably taste like chapstick.

“Tu veux du thé?” JJ grinned, evoking their previous late-night hang out.

“Oui,” Emily smiled, “I could definitely use some of your tea right now. Stuck with coffee for now though. I need the caffeine.”

They continued through that verb, moving down her list and covering aller, mettre, venir, before cycling back to the most important ones to make sure JJ had them memorized. Covering lots of ground, the two girls spent almost two hours straight working through her midterm prep booklet.

“Thanks so much for helping,” JJ said. “Maybe you could tutor me again sometime.”

Emily grinned. Maybe it was just tutoring but that meant hours alone with her and her pretty face and her laugh and the way she smelled like warm vanilla.

“Whenever you need me!”

“Je suis excité!” JJ said, in French, which was definitely not what she aimed to say.

Emily began to laugh. Hard. It started as a giggle but the sheer ridiculousness of her situation made it so much funnier. Her crush just looked her in the eyes and told her she was horny.

“What?!” JJ demanded, nervously laughing at Emily’s reaction.

“Oh gosh I’m sorry,” Emily tried to calm down, to hold in her laughs. “In French we never say excité. It does not mean excited.”

“What does it mean?”

“JJ you just said that you were horny,” Emily made out between laughs. It must be the lack of sleep that made the simple mistake so much funnier.

“Emily!” JJ laughed, “don’t laugh at me I didn’t know!”

Emily’s laughter was infectious and before long the two girls were lost in a fit of giggles.

“You should say: ‘J’ai hâte!’” Emily said eventually, “it means I can’t wait. Like: J’ai hâte d'étudier avec toi. Or Je suis ravi. Or impatiente. Just don’t go around telling people how horny you are.”

“Fine,” JJ said, with a slight pout, “ J’ai hâte. ”

Emily nodded.

“I guess I can say I learned something today,” JJ murmured, “I guess it really is the language of love.”

Emily didn’t say anything, taking a sip of her cold coffee to muffle the squeak threatening to come out of her throat

“So,” JJ changed the subject, “gimme your flash cards. What are you learning?”

Before Emily could earn her, JJ flipped over the first card which read: ‘SEXUAL DISORDERS!’ in Emily’s messy script.

“On the same theme,” JJ murmured.

And so for the next hour, JJ and Emily made their way through her psychology flash cards, slowly making sure that Emily had the endless serious mental health disorders, personality disorders and other terms memorized before her midterm.

Luckily, In the process of writing them down, and due to her religious commitment to attending lectures, Emily had already retained most of them. Studying with JJ did help, because it forced her to explain some of the concepts in plain language, which, she found, furthered her understanding.

Moreover, JJ had brought snacks. Which made studying every more doable when she could award herself with an m&m for each correct answer.

The thing was, half way through Emily’s stack of cards, and as the night crept on, JJ’s energy crashed as the girl’s body decided that it was way past her bedtime and that she should be asleep.

Unlike Emily, JJ was clearly not a night owl.

Eventually, Emily finished up her studying alone, discovering that the blonde was just about useless, as she read out gibberish and expected Emily to understand her. JJ finally fell asleep sitting up at about one-thirty in the morning. Emily decided to leave her be as she still needed to jot a few things down.

“JJ?” Emily murmured after a few minutes, poking the other girl with her pen. “JJ? Wake up.”

“Mm?” JJ murmured, her eyes still closed shut, her head heavy resting on her hand. She was adorable.

“I’m calling it,” Emily said, closing her textbook. “It’s almost two. We’ve studied enough.”

“Mmm… yeah I don’t know if I can fit any more French in my brain,” JJ rubbed her eyes.

“I think you’ll do just fine!”

They packed up their things, bundling up against the cold fall air. JJ went through the motions with her eyes half shut, allowing Emily to guide her out of their study room, down the spiral staircase and into the lobby.

Unfortunately, as they stood just inside the library door, the clouds broke, sending rain pouring down onto campus. Sighing at their poor timing, they pulled their hoods over their hair in an attempt to stay relatively dry.

They walked home, laughing as it rained down onto them.

JJ seemed to wake up and her prior drowsiness seemed to fade into the night sky. She giggled as she splashed in a puddle, and her yellow jacket lit up under a street lamp.

Emily grinned, feeling elated in her exhaustion. How lucky she was! Splashing in the rain with JJ, which was a strange yet pleasant ending to what had promised to be a dredge of an evening. JJ waited for a moment, letting Emily catch out before grasping onto Emily’s hand and holding on, pulling her through the rain.

They tore through the torrential downpour, their hands clasped together, unbothered by the cold as the fiery feeling of JJ’s hand in her own had her full attention. A warm feeling filled her chest as she thought about how it was JJ who wanted to hold Emily’s hand.

Not caring whether it was just a friendly hand hold, or if it meant more, Emily’s heart soared.

JJ’s hand was smaller than hers, and their fingers fell together perfectly, comfortably linked like they were built to do so.

They only let go once they reached the door to their building, as Emily fumbled with the wet metal key ring in her pocket, unlocking the front door and offering the two relief from the rain.

They lingered in the hall, both damp, looking at each other as the tiredness returned and settled into their bones. Emily could see the bags under JJ’s eyes, the exhaustion clear on her face. Her cheeks were flushed from running through the rain and her blonde hair wet and tangled from the wind.

A voice in Emily’s head demanded that she reach out her hands, firmly grab the sides of JJ’s perfect face and kiss her then and there. It would be so perfect, their lips would meet and JJ would rest her hands on Emily’s hips. She would pull her in close and their bodies would crash into each other, fitting together perfectly. Emily’s tongue would graze against JJ’s lips, and their kiss would deepen until finally they would pull apart and-

“Goodnight, Emily,” JJ said, smiling at her sweetly, “Get some sleep before your midterm.”

Emily was brought crashing back into reality.

“Oh,” Emily said, “Yeah you too, you need it.”

“Thank you for helping me out,” JJ continued, “I was having a really bad day and you really made me feel a lot better.”

JJ looked down.

“Yeah, uh, this morning I broke up with Will. Or maybe he broke up with me. I don’t know,” she admitted, “and with the midterm… then the home game tomorrow afternoon...“

She sighed.

“It was a long day and I’m grateful for your company.”

Kiss her, the voice in her head screamed, do it!

“I’m sorry about your break up, either way,” Emily said sincerely. “I feel the same way. I mean, I enjoyed your company. I think I’m going to do well on my midterm too.”

She smiled at JJ who returned it sleepily. Emily kicked herself for the awkward phrasing but blamed the fact that it was late at night and she was processing the fact that her crush was single. Single and had held her hand.

“Bonne chance demain,” Emily said with a wave, wishing JJ luck.

They looked at each other for another moment, before turning and unlocking their individual rooms. That night, Emily dreamt of Paris, cookies and the girl across the hall.

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sincerlypadfoot · 4 years

Text

The Wild Bet

Request- Sirius x Reader where it all started with a bet, a ill angst but fluff at the end

Word Count - 2127

“I tell you, I dont understand why you go out with all these girls,” James huffed picking up the book beside him. “Which one are you going after now?” He asked peering over his book at Sirius smiling at him.

“Y/n, hard to get but I bet I could get her to date me in a couple days,” Sirius said smirking, his hand infront of his face and acting all cocky.

“Really y/n,?” James said rolling his eyes. “Good luck with that one mate, she wouldn't look a eye at you even if you were the gorgeous man in the world,” James said chuckling making Remus and Peter chuckle with him then.

“How about a bet then, first one to take her on a date wins,” Sirius said smirking making James roll is eyes more but smirks.

“Oh you really aren't gonna go for that,” Peter said throwing a pillow at Remus who just chuckled along with the pair.

“Deal,” James said standing up. “Whoever gets to take y/n out on a date first wins, bragging rights and homework for the other to do for a week,” He said putting his hands out to Sirius.

“Deal,” Sirius said shaking James’ hand. “First one wins,” He smirked leaning back on his bed putting his hands behind his head.

“Bloody hell we’re going to be late for class Marlene what are you doing?” I asked banging on the bathroom door. “Come on now!” I shouted crossing my arms.

“Sorry,” Marlene said angry. “I just had to fix my hair, come on let's go,” She said walking past me and grabbing her books off her bed.

“Potions, potions potions,” I mumbled as we walked down the stairs. “Could that class be anymore boring,” I said making Marlene giggle.

“Hello there,” James Potter said standing at the bottom of the stairs. “Could I walk you to class y/n?” He said putting out his arm with a smile.

“Sorry, I already got my parenter,” I said slipping my arm under Marlene's making her giggle some more. As we walked passed James, laughter come from his friends who stood behind him.

“Someone whos never talked to you before seems to have a quiet interest in you,” Marlene said making me roll my eyes. A slight bump from behind made me fall down bring my books with me.

“I am so sorry,” Sirius Black said picking up our books. “I am sorry,” he said putting his hand out to help me up. “I’m Sirius,” He said with a smile.

“I know who you are,” I said taking his hand. “May I have my books back,” I mumbled grabbing my books. “Watch where you're going next time,” I said looking at him mad.

“I honestly didn't see you, could I take you for some butterbear after class to make it up?” Sirius said with a smile, titling his head a bit.

“Sure she would love too,” Marlene said hitting more shoulder a bit. “You really need to get active more so here's your chance,” She whispered in my ear.

“I’ll see you after class then,” Sirius said turning around and walking back to the common room, raising his hand up in the air and taking off running.

“Why would you do that!” I said turning to Marlene. “Do you know who Sirius Black is?” I questioned shaking my head and hitting her in the shoulder.

“Maybe you could change his ways, be his someone, I see the way you stare at him in class,” She said smirking at me. “Come on, Alice and Lily are gonna get a kick out of this,” Marlene said walking away to class.

“Oh you don’t actually think y/n could change Sirius Black's ways do you,” Lily said crossing her arms.

“Hey, don’t doubt me,” I said crossing my arms and copping her. “I could totally change his ways,” I huffed looking around the library we were studying in after class.

“Fine, you wanna make a bet, I bet you can’t change Sirius Black's way,” Lily said putting her hand out. “You have to do my homework once he ghosts you, only using you for sex,” She said smirking.

“Deal, you have to do my essays for the rest of the year,” I said back, shaking her hand. “I’m going to get ready for my date now,” I said cockingly, walking away with a smile on my face, wait tell Lily has to do my essays.

“Hey,” Remus Lupin said running up to me as I got out of the library. “Whats up,” He said smiling, following me back to the common room.

“About to win a bet,” I smirked. “Lily thinks that I can’t change Sirius and get him to date me without ghosting me the next day, I said I could do it,” I said to Remus laughing.

“Oh my,” Remus said smacking his forehead. “Everyone is just making bets today huh,” He said to himself, hardly letting me here him. “Sirius is in the common room, just wanted to warn you before you go in there,” He warned whispered the password to the fat lady.

“What do you mean?” I asked walking in and see Sirius standing up and looking at me. “Hey Sirius,” I said winking at him and walking up to my room. “I’ll be down in a second,” I chuckled walking up to my room and shutting the door. I tossed on a grey sweater and some jeans and ran back down to the common room.

“Our date awaits,” Sirius said as he slipped his arm under mine. “So y/n,” He said with a smile as we walked out of the common room. “What would you like to do tonight?” Sirius asked looking over at me as we walked.

“Lets just get passed the three broomstick part first then i’ll decided,” I chuckled slipping my arm from his and walking normally beside him. “What made you ask me out on a date?” I asked following up with his question.

“I thought you looked like my next victim,” Sirius joked. “But actually I thought you were really pretty and I wanted to take you out,” He said bumping his hand into mine making me look at him. “What do you do for fun?” Sirius asked asking me the next question.

“Dancing to muggle music,” I said honestly. “Muggle music seems peaceful and dancing to it makes me happy,” Sirius opened the door to the three broomsticks, not to busy. “What's your least favorite class?” I asked him.

“Potions, slughorn hates me guts so,” Sirius chuckled sitting down opposite of me at a booth. “Your different then I thought,” Sirius said putting his elbows on the table. “In a good way,” He chuckled.

“What do you mean, i’m different then you thought,” I questioned raising my eyebrow at him smirking.

“I thought you were gonna be just like every other girl in this school, no one asked me questions,” Sirius said running his hand on the back of his neck. “What is something you wanna do before you leave hogwarts?” He continued asking questions.

“I wanna dance in the rain, listening to the muggle music and just dance,” I chuckled looking at the waitress who stood at the end of our table. “Two butterbeers please,” I asked and she nodded her head as us, walking away. “Something you’d like to do?” I repeated his question.

“Dance in the rain,” Sirius copied as two butterbeers appeared infront of us. “Cheers,” He said lifting up his glass, I picked up my glass and clanked them both together. Hours passed and many refills later we both were laughing hysterically.

“You know to be honesty,” I started saying leaning on Sirius as we walked around hogsmeade. “Your different then I thought to, I thought you weren’t gonna have any interest in me either, only doing this for the joke of it,” I chuckled wrapping my arms around his.

“Come on we should get back,” Sirius said throwing his arm over my shoulder and bringing me closer to him. “We should do this again,” He said running his fingers up and down my shoulder.

“I think we should too,” I agreed leaning my head on his chest as we walked into the school. “Your nicer then I thought,” I chuckled making Sirius chuckle with me. We walked into the common room.

“Goodnight y/n,” Sirius said moving his arm off of me and looking at me. “See you tomorrow,” He said with a smile looking down at me. His smile slowly disappeared when James, Remus and Peter walked down the stairs chuckling.

“Goodnight,” I whispered turning around to walk up the stairs, I stopped at the corner and looked down at the four.

“I don’t need you to do my essays anymore, I change my mind,” Sirius huffed sitting on the couch, I leaned more into the corner as a hand went onto my shoulder. “I can’t believe we even bet on that,” He said angry

“How did the date go, did you win the bet?” Marlene whispered a bit to loud making the four boys turn around to face us. “Shit,” She muttered looking at me. Sirius and I just looked at eachother.

“I can’t believe you would say that,” I said to Marlene walking passed her and into our room and to the bathroom, locking the door. Listening to the muffled voices of the three girls outside the door and the drops of tears landing on my knees.

“I had to say something, they both were gonna get hurt if they both we’re continuing this bet,” Marlene muttered to Lily and Alice who were banging on the door for me. The sound of rain pounded the bathroom made me jump. I stood up and opened the door.

“Just leave me please,” I muttered at the three girls walking passed them and out the room, ignoring the four boys who were standing in the common room still and just left, running to no destination.

“You bet on me, what was it?” Sirius asked as I stared into the lake, standing over the dock, at the edge. Feeling the rain soak everything I was wearing.

“I thought I could change you,” I mumbled looking back on him. “Make you like me so much that you wouldn't ghost me the next day like everyone other girl you flirt with,” I yelled a bit as the rain got harder. “What was your bet?” I asked angry, a bit biased but angry.

“James and I bet with each other, seeing who could take you on a date first, seeing who could take the girl who doesn't date anyone on a date,” Sirius explained stepping behind me. “But I know that was wrong of me,” He whispered standing completely behind me now.

“The why did you do it?” I asked turning around to face him, both faces tear filled and wet. “I wanted to change you and all you wanted to do was use me,” I yelled poking him in the chest.

“It was stupid, I know,” Sirius said grabbing my hand so I would stop poking him. “What I said was true, everything I said was true,” He said putting my palm flat on his chest and placing his hand on top of mine.

“Go back to the common room,” I demanded trying to turn around but Sirius pulled me closer to him, putting his arms around me. “What are you doing?” I asked looking up at him.

“Dance with me please,” Sirius asked placing his hands around my waists. “Please,” He whispered looking at me. I sighed, putting his hands on his shoulder and leaning my head on his chest as we danced on the dock of the lake.

“Sirius,” I mumbled not moving my head off his chest. “I’m sorry,” I apologized running my fingers along his shoulder blades.

“I should be the one to apologize really,” He said back leaning his head on mine. “I didn’t think you would be like this, I thought you were gonna be like everyone else, but when you wanted to know me, I regretted everything,” Sirius said running his hands up my back, drawing circles.

“Sirius,” I said again lifting my head up. “Don’t ever make a bet against me again,” I chuckled looking at him. “We should get ba.,” I started to say but Sirius crashed his lips into mine, causing my arms to wrap around his even harder and pulling myself closer to him.

“No more bets,” Sirius chuckled moving the wet hair out of my face. “Come on,” Sirius said wrapping his arm around me as we walked back into hogwarts together, soaking wet and happy.

#sirius black #sirius x y/n #sirius imagine #siriusblack x reader #Siriusblack #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black x gryffindor!reader #marauders fanfiction #the marauders #hp marauders #Maraudersera #young marauders #Padfoot #Prongs #Moony #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #Wormtail

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stoppit-keepout · 3 years

Text

when nobody is listening

Kissing prompt 8. Laying a gentle kiss to the back of the other’s hand. (I realise most of the prompts are v romantic, but I listened to some Mountain Goats and couldn’t stop myself from writing sad things, oops. Title from Long Neck’s Rosy)

Heads-up: this is about Nile Freeman’s family dealing with death--hers and her father’s.

Tony has a few memories of Dad’s funeral. They have hard edges, and they shine through tears, crystalline.

Auntie Kai singing Amazing Grace, a red flower on her black dress. Mom pressing a kiss to his praying hands. “Come here,” collecting him roughly into her arms with Nile, God, Nile.

He’s not going to remember Nile’s funeral. He’s not going to go.

He tells Mom while she’s making a salad to go with dinner on Thursday. Auntie Kai dropped off lasagna and tried to stay, but Mom wasn’t ready to see her, see anyone yet, so it’s just the two of them.

“What do you mean ‘I can’t go,’ you got plans?” The retort comes fast, before she’s looked at him.

Mom’s always on the move--ADD, Nile calls it, though who knows for sure--and it’s only gotten worse since they got the news. Since Tuesday.

There’s a lot to do, she says when Tony asks if she wants breakfast, and she can see the TV from where I’m ironing, thanks, baby, you just watch your show, and she’s just going to call Father Willem to make sure everything’s set, but she’ll go to bed soon, she promises.

“I can’t,” he says. His grief presses a greedy hand across his throat, strangles the rest of what he’d wanted to say.

Mom knocks over the salad dressing. The plastic thunks when it hits the counter. “Baby,” she says, and she’s there.

Tony pushes his face into her shoulder, and her hands push against the back of his head too, hiding his twisting sobs in her at-home sweater. “I can’t, Mom, she’s gotta come back,” the words lurching out around his crying.

“Shh,” Mom says, and holds him tighter. “I’ve got you.” Her voice trembles so hard that it shakes the bones in Tony’s legs, and they’re folding, Mom slowing his fall, but both going down together.

“Who’s gonna keep me out of trouble now?” Tony doesn’t know if anyone but Mom would be able to understand the words, they’re so clawed-up from tears; he doesn’t know if they really make sense, but it was what they always said. Mom and Nile, keeping their boys out of trouble, but Dad’s dead, and then Nile enlisted, and now, and now--

Mom’s crying just as hard as Tony, now, but he can still hear her say, “She’s still watching out for you, baby, she always will.”

The lasagna doesn’t taste like anything, but at least the lid was on the salad dressing when it fell. Nothing spills.

Tony goes to the funeral and stares so hard at that stupid flag that it shows up, inverted, when he blinks.

Tony’s heart churns in pain that whole first month. It’s somehow even worse than when Dad died, because at least then, he and Nile had been a team. Mom took care of them, and they’d make sure she didn’t stay up alone. Nile always made their cousins take Tony, too, when they go out for bike rides, always let him tag along and play his music. Tony made sure that when Nile got mad, she didn’t get mad alone.

Mom’s not mad now. The closest she gets is when Tony gets detention for getting in a fight with some guy trying to get him to join JROTC--she descends upon his principal like an ice storm, and Tony doesn’t get a mark on his permanent record from the incident.

But mostly she’s sad, and Tony’s sad, and it’s new enough that he doesn’t have a clue what to do.

His friends start coming over to hang out. The Sunday after the funeral, they just show up, and from that point on it seems like someone’s always around--he can’t complain about it. They teach Mom to play Breath of the Wild on Jalen’s Switch, and they pull a jagged laugh from him when Mom tries to catch the giant horse.

When Auntie Kai finds out that Mom’s letting Tony’s friends come over and play video games, she practically moves in. “Let me take care of you,” Tony overhears her telling Mom one night, and the echo of Nile hits him so hard that he has to sit down right there in the hall.

Auntie Kai’s able to be around all the time because work is giving her some paid time off--something about a bunch of vacation days she needed to spend, though she also told Mom the days definitely hadn’t been there in December when she’d wanted time for Christmas. Tony’s dimly grateful for whatever glitch had hidden the vacation from her then, though, because it means now she’s here, and she can help.

They spend a lot of time in the kitchen, even though food still doesn’t taste right. Tony sleeps in Nile’s room sometimes and tries to tell himself she’s still there looking over him, like Dad.

It doesn’t get easier that Nile’s gone, but it gets easier for Tony to still be around.

He gets into U Chicago. He gets into a few other schools, too, and has a couple rejections he didn’t care to read, but he gets into U Chicago.

“You deserve it, you worked so hard,” Mom says. He picks her up off her feet in a hug, and she laughs, loud.

“Thanks for making me work,” he says. “And thanks for fixing my application essays.”

“Oh, for--” She’s grinning as she slaps at his arm, and he puts her down. “How many times do I have to tell you, I didn’t do that!”

Tony rolls his eyes, but he’s sure he’s still grinning like a fool. “Sure, Mom.”

“You need to give yourself credit, you earned every bit of this.”

Sure, he did, but he knows he’s never totally perfected the right ‘their/there/they’re/whatever,’ no matter how many times Nile had tried to explain it. He also has some proof that Mom went and fixed things even after she gave him her approval for his submission--when he’d checked the system the day after he’d uploaded his application, the PDF didn’t look quite the same as the one he had on his computer.

Mom probably doesn’t want to bring down the moment with reminders of what they’ve lost, so he doesn’t bust her for it just yet.

She’s his mom, though, so she sees the bite in his smile even without him saying anything. “They’re so proud of you,” she says, and gives him another hug. “I just know it.”

In a weird twist, one of Nile’s old friends is the TA for Tony’s object-oriented programming class. He hadn’t recognised her name on the syllabus, but when she walks into the tutorial saying, “Okay, students of MPCS 51410-B, please correct your syllabi because you are now in Sandra’s section,” her face and voice shove him abruptly back in time.

He’s eight and he’s threatening to tell on her and Nile for cutting gum out of Nile’s hair, he’s ten and he’s trying to convince Nile to let him watch horror movies with them, he’s twelve and got roped into taking pictures of her and Nile posing in Hallowe’en costumes.

She looks shaken when she sees him, then shakes it off.

He doesn’t know how to bring it up, but he goes to her office hours in the second week of class anyway. Before he goes in, he doesn’t really want to talk about Nile. He doesn’t want to cry, he doesn’t want to have to lie that it’s okay, he doesn’t want to listen while someone talks about Nile the way people talk about Dad. Like she’s gone. Like she’s over.

He goes in anyway.

“Tony,” Sandra says, and she’s not crying yet at least. “I’m so sorry.”

It ends up not being too bad. They talk about Java for a bit, because there’s an assignment coming up next week, and Sandra mentions she just got a grant to work on something about databases that Tony doesn’t totally follow yet (but he will).

He comes back a few more times. It eventually ends up being nice to trade stories back and forth with someone who knew Nile, and Nile’s drive, her sharp wit, her big heart. Tony learns again that Sandra and Nile had met on the first day of kindergarten, and that Nile had screamed when the teacher had tried to partner them up with different people in the second week of school.

“She always said she just knew, with me,” Sandra says like a badge of honour.

“She was like that,” Tony says. It settles, a small betrayal, in his ribs. She’s still like that, he silently, irrationally papers over.

“You coming today?” Mom asks. She’s already dressed for church, but she’s sitting half-on the chair in front of the computer, distractedly typing something into a comment box on Facebook. “I’m leaving in a minute, just have to do...” She trails off, her typing picking up tempo.

Tony doesn’t bother responding out loud, just ducks back to his room to change his shirt and goes to wait by the door for Mom to finish up.

“Okay, okay, we’re already late,” she says, grabbing her purse and rifling through it for her keys. “Is your sister already in the car?”

The words pounce on them both. Stillness, then explosive motion as Mom flinches, as she drops her purse and her little tin of breath mints bursts and scatters.

“Mom,” Tony says, and she’s already on her knees, gathering up her things. His knees thud on the floor, following to help.

“I’m sorry, it’s just--”

“I know,” he says, and he repeats it because Mom wasn’t looking the first time. “Mom, I know.”

“I didn’t forget,” Mom says, hands finally still, eyes meeting Tony’s. “I could never.”

“But it’s like she’s still here, right?” Mom blurs and glows in the tears filling Tony’s vision. “You feel it, too.”

That’s what tips Mom over into crying, too.

They’re late for church, but they still go.

Peace be with you, murmuring around them, and Mom holds his face in her hands and makes him bend so she can kiss him on the forehead, like she always does.

Communion, and prayer. Please protect Mom, and bless the whole family, and let me get through finals okay. Tony prays the way he’s been praying for almost a year now: to God, and to Nile.

Mom’s kneeling beside him, her shoulder against his, and he crosses himself when his thoughts have smoothed out. Mom catches his hand in a tight grip as he’s lowering it; they hold on to each other.

#the old guard fic #nile freeman #nile freeman's family #the old guard #cw: death #mourning #grieving #i realised like 900 words in that the age difference between Nile and Tony doesn't necessarily make perfect chronological sense #(it sorta presupposes a smaller age gap for when their dad died but then he's still in high school while she's on her tour? oops)#but you know what maybe in movie canon nile is actually in her early 20's when she dies #and then i can have her brother be in high school without him having been like. a toddler when their dad died.#PROBLEM SOLVED #maybe #...#flippant tags to distract from emotions #ficbit #posting in the middle of the night and queueing a daytime reblog: the way i'm apparently doing things now

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lilacandladybugs · 3 years

Note

What’s your current relationship with god? I’m very curious lmao

I’m sorry if this sounds incomprehensible and rambly and disjointed or pretentious. I care a lot more about this than almost anything else in the world and I wish I could do a better job of explaining myself. But I feel like why I believe in God or what my relationship with him is like is like trying to explain who I am. And I’m just the accumulation of everything I’ve ever experienced or that I think and I feel like it’s really important that I communicate it correctly so here is my attempt.

Here’s a video that’s really good that I think will give some good background information. If you don’t want to read all of this, the video is probably enough to explain.

youtube

TLDR: This isn’t the way things are supposed to be. Death isn’t supposed to happen, it isn’t a part of the natural order of things. God loved us so much he died to fix it, and rose again to defeat death. God loves me and I love him, and I’ve never found peace or fulfillment like that in anything else.

I hope this makes sense anon let me know if you have any questions or if I misinterpreted your question.

TW suicide // grief // abuse // rape mention (not v bad or graphic or anything)

Long version:

I think I've always thought that there's something naturally (for lack of a better word) poetic about existing. Not really meaning that it's good, but kind of that everything feels really purposeful it seems to flow together like an old epic. Everything seems intensely meaningful to me.

I've always thought that life was tragic. That death is a fracture in the way things are, like we live in the ancient ruins of a long lost civilization.

And I've always thought that life seems like an incomprehensibly wonderful gift, because how can there be tragedy if there isn't anything worth losing? But somehow it seems like peace is the basic way things are, that normalcy isn't normal at all but like this status quo of goodness which makes bad things happening not only heart breaking but surprising.

Reconciling all of those ideas is really confusing.

I'm a strong proponent of thinking analytically about what you believe since the answer we choose to the question of whether or not God exists is like quite literally something we bet our lives on. We bet our life that God exists or that he doesn't, that things have meaning anchored in an external source or that they don't.

So while I grew up a Christian I've never felt really dead in it. I want to be uncomfortable. I want to be stubborn in asking questions and I don't have a problem with questioning authorities on why they believe what they believe—especially if they really confidently assert it. I want to be able to know things and understand them.

My junior year of high school three of my closest childhood friends died, and several others almost died. I remember sitting up at like two am listening to twenty one pilots self titled album just like seething and exhausted asking lord why would you abandon me like that?

Some other really horrible things happened to people that I cared about, I felt abandoned and rejected by Christians just for being broken, some of them caused it or contributed to the trauma and abuse. How could people who claimed the name of God do that?

My debate partner's best friend killed himself the same year that my friends died, and he became an atheist and I stayed a Christian. We fought about it a lot. I really seriously considered becoming an atheist.

The thing that I couldn't accept was the lack of eternality.

Really ironically I think I stayed a Christian for the same reason that my friend became an atheist. We were both asking why all of the living world is crying out in anguish. We both wanted to die. We both were angry. We both were horrified.

My friend thought that the question of “where is God?” was harder to answer than “why is there meaning to death?”

I'm a Christian because I'm horrified. He's an atheist for the same reason.

If you don’t feel like reading it, here’s the TLDR: there is no reason for someone to do something or not do something if God isn’t there to tell them to. There isn’t a moral grounding for law.

Arthur Leff was an atheist law professor at Yale in the eighties, and he wrote about the moral grounding for laws in his essay, Unspeakable Ethics, Unnatural Law. The question he was asking was what can we do to ground morality? What can we do to prove objectively that there are things one ought to do and things one ought not do?

I am unwilling to accept that. There is something evil about abuse, neglect, rape, torture. There is something about these things that violates human rights, human dignity. There's something about them that goes against objective moral law.

But without God there is no moral law. So I wouldn't be able to say, "you should never rape someone, because rape is wrong." And everything that I had experienced flew in the face of that.

Dr. Leff wrote this about that question;

“All I can say is this: it looks as if we are all we have. Given what we know about ourselves and each other, this is an extraordinarily unappetizing prospect; looking around the world, it appears that if all men are brothers, the ruling model is Cain and Abel. Neither reason, nor love, nor even terror, seems to have worked to make us "good," and worse than that, there is no reason why anything should. Only if ethics were something unspeakable by us, could law be unnatural, and therefore unchallengeable. As things now stand, everything is up for grabs.

Nevertheless:

Napalming babies is bad.

Starving the poor is wicked.

Buying and selling each other is depraved.

Those who stood up to and died resisting Hitler, Stalin, Amin, and Pol Pot-and General Custer too-have earned salvation.

Those who acquiesced deserve to be damned.

There is in the world such a thing as evil.

[All together now:] Sez who?

God help us.”

In the end, it comes down to this; Do I believe that the complexity of the universe is because there was someone intelligent actively involved in its design, do I believe that information, reason, logic, emotion, and morality exist and are reliable because they have grounding in God’s identity? Do I believe that God is who he says he is?

And I guess the answer to those questions was yes.

I saw God. He was there in the stillness - in the sunrise and sunset and at 2 am after I couldn't cry anymore. I felt him. And I know part of his goodness that I wish I never had to know. I felt like I was lying breathless bleeding out in a gutter watching the stars. Almost like a pause - just a moment in time where I was hurt enough, still enough to hear his voice.

One of the most important things I learned is that life is not hopeless. If life is a story, then the last chapter of the book has already been written. This is the premise of the song It is Well with My Soul by Horatio G. Spafford.

“When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,

When sorrows like sea billows roll;

Whatever my lot, God has taught me to say,

It is well, it is well, with my soul.

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought

My sin, not in part but the whole,

Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,

Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, o my soul”

The powers of evil and darkness can take away my friends, my sanity, my family, and even my life, but God has already saved me, and I can find peace in spite of my circumstances. Three of my friends died, but God has already conquered death. I feel powerless, but God is powerful. I feel abandoned, but God loves me so much that he died a horrible torturous death for me. Living in light of that is peace.

Whenever I felt like I couldn’t keep going there would be something to stop me. I heard his voice in music, and in my friends that held me when I cried, and in morning glories on my morning walk. I kept lists of all of the times this happened, every time that someone encouraged me to keep going, every time that someone would quote a Bible verse when I was crying out for God to answer me, every time that the world paused. Everything asked me the same question, do you think it means nothing? Do you think that there is a direction that we’re going? Are we coming from nothing and going toward nowhere?

I had friends who heard him too. He was so gentle to us. I wasn’t able to go to church, I wasn’t able to listen to worship music but the LGBTQ+ community took care of me, they were isolated from church as well. There was enough for me in that God promised he would take care of me, and he did. He died for me. He talked to my trans friend and said, “listen, your parents have rejected you and said you’ll never be your son, but I am a good father. I love you. Be my son instead.”

God mourned with me. He saw everything and he was angry. I was able to breathe because I knew that in the end there will be justice for abuse victims, because God said that he is the holder of justice, and vengeance will be his.

When one of my friends was hospitalized I stood outside during the beginning of a thunderstorm and watched the clouds and the sky darken and lightning flash across the sky.

Even the wind and the sea obey him. He asked me if I trust him.

I guess my answer was yes.

In spite of everything that I went through, I was more thoroughly convinced that I ever was before that things matter. I was convinced that abuse is evil. I was convinced that death is an abomination. I was convinced that these laws of morality are woven into the fabric of the universe. I was convinced that God died to save us from that reality. I was convinced he loved me.

I still am

#asks #about #eslyea #religion tw #religion #christianity #christianity tw #suicide tw #grief tw #suicide #grief #rape #rape tw #just mentioned but still #thanks for asking #c:#hope this is coherent

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meibemeibelline · 4 years

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highlights from that 32k word doc i wrote when i marathoned gazette’s songs (2002-2007)

PART 2 | PART 3

Some quick notes:

This is a combo of thoughts on music, lyrics and sometimes just funny things I found while I was hurriedly typing at 11pm listening to these songs. Not every song will be featured in these, sorry

At times I directly quote translations and when I do I’ll specify who I’m quoting, but just so you know first they are all either Defective Tragedy, Heresiarchy or Trauma Radio

Also, I’m planning on writing some longer essay-type things with these notes so there might be some things I skip over (such as a recurring theme in their songs) bc I want to use them elsewhere

CONTENT WARNING FOR LYRIC DISCUSSIONS: suicide (Ganges ni Akai Bara). i will bold the title so you can skip it if you want. it’s one paragraph long

HHHH this is already 2k words but anyway hope u enjoy my ramblings

“I’d have to take a break from feminism to appreciate [Akai One Piece]”

“His delivery is still highly emotional and [Okuribi] overall is really emotional. Like the fact you can still hear and FEEL the sheer bittersweet feelings (mostly sadness) of someone you love passing away is like...really telling of 2002 gazette’s potential”

(Doro Darake no Seishun) “Bitch Aoi and Uruha are serving LOOKS like the red tartan blazer with the black shorts???? And Uruha with the red tank top and the pleather skirt with the garters THE OTHER GIRLS WISH THEY WERE HIM”

(Haru ni Chirikeri, Mi wa Kareru de Gozaimasu) “it’s about a flower that’s in love with a one-winged butterfly, and i imagine the point is that even though they sing songs for each other, they’re just so different that they don’t understand each other and they can’t be together. and they’re just...fated to end, and maybe try again next spring. and you can see that in human relationships too.”

“Akuyuukai i think is such a significant turning point musically like i just FELT a significant shift where they were really painting with their music and having it be more closely connected with the lyrics”

“[Linda Candydive Pinky Heaven] is a happy and fun song!! it’s doro darake no seishun’s cuter and cooler older sister. this also gave me a lot of serotonin and i’m glad this is a classic. it’s also this band’s first fan song (or closest to a fan song) and i think it’s quite meaningful because they were picking up as a band and were starting to really connect with people which is always so so great. and i think it’s cool that many songs before this were fun songs to jam out to but linda is specially DEDICATED to that. it’s so carefree and i think like...this is the exact thing many musicians love about performing and what fans love about concerts. it’s the escapism and just the SPACE to be yourself and have fun. it’s so freeing.”

(Black Spangle Gang) “I can’t believe GazettE were doing 2005 Miyavi before Miyavi did 2005 Miyavi”

(The Murder’s TV) “I think it’s cool how playful they make it sound -> like a creepy show that kids might see and the last chorus is pretty good. it’s a bop AND THE BASS AND GUITAR SOLOS SLAP. The lyrics are really interesting too and I LOVE the way Ruki embodies them with his voice”

“BITCHHH MAD MARBLE HELL VISION SLAPS. THIS IS WHAT I CALL NOISE MUSIC!!!!!!!”

“The composition on Kawareta Haru, Kawaneru Haru is actually SO good (and the costumes are fucking ICONIC). And Ruki is STILL getting better at singing. The chorus is melodic and the effects on the guitar just go so well like I think the others (probably since Akuyuukai actually) have been really getting to play with all sorts of effects on their instruments to make this new variety of sounds which is super rad. AOI SOLO SUPERIORITY BTW.”

“Indie gazette really love their key changes in the bittersweet songs in the last choruses.”

“Comparing the lyrics of [Sumire] to many of the last ‘goodbye’ songs, there’s a lot more imagery and scene-painting as opposed to like, just direct thoughts and feelings. And that’s really Ruki developing as a writer, I think, as his lyrics are becoming more subtle and open to different interpretations which is super cool! Like this is really him finding his voice and I know he’s going to be doing more of this over the years.”

“ANATA NO TAME NO KONO INOCHI SLAPS BUT THE LYRICS ARE FUCKED. LIKE, I KNEW THIS FROM THE BEGINNING BUT I REALLY WISH I WAS JARED, 19.”

“I LOVE MISEINEN SO FUCKING MUCHHHHH. I can only begin to imagine just HOW significant this song is for Ruki. This is him acknowledging his weaknesses and his flaws, looking around him and seeing the people he has, he writes about what he’s afraid of, he writes about how he’s going to change and move forward, what is MOST VALUABLE to him. This is A LOT. This is A LOT for anyone. It is a song about GROWTH – how he wants to grow yet is terrified of change, but even so is going to do it with the help of his support system. This is EVERYTHING. It’s raw and brave and so very beautiful. It has Wakaremichi and BEST FRIENDS energy. These three songs are best friends. And also like, for the last couple of releases Ruki’s been doing lots of wordplay and metaphors and using euphemisms, but this set of lyrics is just completely honest and STRAIGHT FROM THE HEART. Like, there ARE metaphors and symbols but he’s talking COMPLETELY about himself and his FEELINGS. I get emo whenever I listen to this song.”

(Carry?) “Apparently it’s about Frankenstein’s monster, so I guess this is another Concept Song. So this explains the flat vocals – the monster is undead but also…very sad and confused about what it is and its place in the world. ISN’T THAT ALL OF US ON SOME LEVEL…HAHA…”

“Zakurogata no Yuutsu is that 2010 fb meme where someone sees their partner right before going into a heart surgery only to wake up to find they’re gone and the doctor is like ‘omg who do you think gave you the heart😔’”

“WHAT THE FUCK WHY DID I SLEEP ON HANAKOTOBA. THIS IS AOI SONG SUPERIORITY. THE GUITAR SOLO IS ALSO GORGEOUS. Also love what he did with the melody getting higher in the end when the narrator questions the existence of the love they lost. AND THEY DIDN’T RESOLVE THE FUCKING CHORD PROGRESSION OHHH MY GODDDD BECAUSE “I’LL WITHER AWAY, NEVER KNOWING THE ANSWER” //THROWS. THESE GENIUSES. THIS IS THE BEST SONG ON THE ALBUM SO FAR AND THAT’S👏ON👏AOI👏SUPERIORITY👏Also I know that, literally, Hanakotoba is a flower on the side of the road but LISTEN. This is a soul that just wants love...This is the anthem for us lonely invisible bitches <3 This song has the MOST yearning. Thank u Aoi for my life. Like he is TRULY the composer with the most emotionality.”

(Tokyo Shinjuu) “I LOVEEEE THE BASS. This has a very old, classic Japanese style and it’s just…so good. You can really hear it in the melody. Also there’s just something SO feminine about it and I KNOW it’s that classic Japanese sound and like…god I love this gender bending with music. I adore the guitars too I think there’s such a good balance between them.”

(Shichigatsu no Youka) “I love how the lyrics are between sections too – the most emotional parts are in the big, emotional chorus, and the verses are more mellow when the narrator is sort of…more detached and Not Crying… The guitar melodies are really pretty and the solo is just GORGEOUS. It’s such a bittersweet song as well (god GazettE just do bittersweet EXTREMELY WELL) like bruh…already being sad over a breakup and OH DOUBLE WHAMMY THEY’VE MOVED ON like. Ruki sweetie I’m so sorry.”

[a rant about how I know Saraba is well-meaning and is about the peace and unity of a nation and is EXPLICITLY anti-war which I can definitely appreciate but my Chinese ass was just NOT having the whole painting the Japanese army as heroes deal]

(Reila) “Ruki’s vocals are SO GOOD here. ALSO YELLING AT THE BASS AND KICK DRUM BEFORE THE SECOND VERSE WITH THE PIANO. THE WAY THE KICK DRUM PANS THRU THE EARS. MOTHERFUCKER. AND THEN TO COME IN WITH THE GUITAR SOLO HOW DARE!!!!! YOU PLAY WITH MY EMOTIONS LIKE THIS!!!!!”

“COCKROACH SLAPS. Love that he reframes being compared to a cockroach as like, resilient (I’ll never break through -> I want to believe I’ll break through), and he’s embracing his crudeness and taking a huge dose of PHUCEMOL.” (Cr: Defective Tragedy)

(Sugar Pain) “God Aoi’s intro though………..I HATE THE BREATHING SO MUCH. No I’m actually really angry right now why is it actually good. YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO BE GOOD.” (I then had to stop after the first chorus for obvious reasons)

“Idk why the first thing I thought of when Bite to All started was ‘yeehaw’…[Also] I hate how I know exactly who is screaming at the end and when.”

“BTS 🤝 GazettE Gunshots in songs”

[My personal interpretation of Nausea & Shudder is not that it’s about the pressure of being true to oneself in the face of success, but rather that success itself is not what Ruki expected it to be and he’s figuring out how to navigate that and move forward. It is also just a really good set of lyrics.]

“There’s just a hopelessness that’s so profound in [Bath Room]. Like if depression was a song IT WOULD SOUND A LOT LIKE THIS… Up until this point this is the Darkest song AND WE’RE ONLY GONNA GET DARKER FROM HERE *sweats in DIM*”

“I love these unsaid words Ruki leaves in the booklets. Adds layers and messages for the listener (usually of hope)”

(Silly God Disco) “After reading the lyrics I love this song soo much more. Like it’s actually really nice to think about dancing and living life because you have rock music and it makes you happy. Also the FUNK. The flavour. Not only that, but the way Ruki SWEARS he will live happily, without fear, and always moving past pain and towards freedom and glory. And he INVITES the listener with him. This is just SO nice.”

“I think it’s interesting that like…for an album that is sort of Known to be depressing as hell, there are quite a lot of songs about resilience and just…living and moving forward. Depending on what the rest of the albums are about, NIL might actually be, weirdly, the one with the most hope in it.”

(Worthless War) ““Do you shoot first so you won’t get hurt? / Do you call that sort of thing ‘justice’” damn Worthless War spilled. This sounds like a whole lot of anxiety surrounding war, and a very strong criticism against the government for caring more about power than people. Even though violence is despair, he also says that this age of political tension and FEAR is also despair. And he is correct. Ruki: ALSO THE EARTH IS DYING???” (Cr: Defective Tragedy)

(Rich Excrement) ““Lyric killer is erectile dysfunction” + “Biters should check it out too” -> you’re a limp dick who rips off other people’s work I AM SCREAMINGGGGGG.”” (Cr: Defective Tragedy)

(Crucify Sorrow) “The main metaphor here is someone who is an insect with a broken shell – an empty person. With depression, probably…And I cannot help but think about Utsusemi, in which he uses this EXACT metaphor to describe himself and his own depression, his loneliness and his desire to disappear. Was this a coincidence??🤔”

(GANGES NI AKAI BARA) “I really like this song – music and lyrics both. Like even though it’s sad that the girl was in a lot of pain, kills herself and is condemned by her church, the narrator bringing her to Ganges and doing a sacred ritual for her so that she can find salvation is actually really really kind and meaningful??? Not only because it’s an act of kindness but also because the pain she was experiencing was emotional/mental (with the constant tsu-tsu-tsura-tsura-tsurai), salvation could relieve her soul from exactly that.” (Apparently Ruki said the narrator is Buddhist but in the context of the song Hindu makes more sense, so I’m just going with that)

(Calm Envy) ““If you could love even these words I’ve thrown your way / I could keep trusting only you as you stand in front of me / It hurts every time you bring up the past you’ve suddenly shown me / I want to love even that empty space where I don’t exist / I’ll wipe away my tears so you wouldn’t notice them / So don’t smile in front of me anymore than this” – SHUT UP THIS SHIT IS REALLY UNCONDITIONAL BUT THEY’RE TIRED OF BEING HURT. GOODBYE. GOODBYEEEEE.” (Cr: Heresiarchy)

(Circle of Swindler) “Ruki writing "how much do you buy us for? let's negotiate [the] value of pain" in circle of swindler to demand respect and acknowledgement of his worth from the higher ups of the music industry because it's the music born from his pain that's making their money is Quite sexy” (Cr: Defective Tragedy)

“[Stacked Rubbish] is about the baggage we have, the baggage we give each other, the Errors we make precisely because we are People who have souls. I think the point (of this album being like an anthology) is that everyone could find something in this album that speaks to them.”

#the gazette #the gazette ruki #uruha #the gazette aoi #reita #the gazette kai #ruki #aoi #kai #if you're on mobile and following any of these tags i'm SO sorry #if this pops up without the cut #also wow i'm really procrastinating HARD

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in-the-whisper · 3 years

Text

Here’s a video that’s really good that I think will give some good background information. If you don’t want to read all of this, the video is probably enough to explain.

youtube

I hope this makes sense anon let me know if you have any questions or if I misinterpreted your question.

TW suicide // grief // abuse // rape mention (not v bad or graphic or anything)

Long version:

I've always thought that life was tragic. That death is a fracture in the way things are, like we live in the ancient ruins of a long lost civilization.

Reconciling all of those ideas is really confusing.

The thing that I couldn't accept was the lack of eternality.

My friend thought that the question of “where is God?” was harder to answer than “why is there meaning to death?”

I'm a Christian because I'm horrified. He's an atheist for the same reason.

But without God there is no moral law. So I wouldn't be able to say, "you should never rape someone, because rape is wrong." And everything that I had experienced flew in the face of that.

Dr. Leff wrote this about that question;

Nevertheless:

Napalming babies is bad.

Starving the poor is wicked.

Buying and selling each other is depraved.

Those who stood up to and died resisting Hitler, Stalin, Amin, and Pol Pot-and General Custer too-have earned salvation.

Those who acquiesced deserve to be damned.

There is in the world such a thing as evil.

[All together now:] Sez who?

God help us.”

And I guess the answer to those questions was yes.

“When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,

When sorrows like sea billows roll;

Whatever my lot, God has taught me to say,

It is well, it is well, with my soul.

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought

My sin, not in part but the whole,

Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,

Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, o my soul”

When one of my friends was hospitalized I stood outside during the beginning of a thunderstorm and watched the clouds and the sky darken and lightning flash across the sky.

Even the wind and the sea obey him. He asked me if I trust him.

I guess my answer was yes.

I still am

#ask #what's your current relationship with god? i'm very curious lmao

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eddiebaresgazebos · 4 years

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Beautiful Trauma

*Location* Canada Toronto 1985

The snow fell down heavy. Leaving a beautiful pure white mist behind like a paranormal entity delicately fluttering across a dark room being lit by the moonlight blooming like a snow drop on a beautiful springtime day. This world has many mysteries, horrors and dark secrets that not even everyone can come to terms with no matter how hard they try.

Kimberly Rough Watson is a petite girl for her 17 years of age, withholding a pasty white complexion, deep emerald eyes anyone could be possessed by and the richest shade of caramel locks that trailed down to the very ends of her back. Kimberly in reality was a “sad” girl always looking into the latest crime cases and keeping every snippet of Crime articles containing horrific detail about Milk carton kids, Certain Serial Killers, conspiracy’s and the most spine chilling thing of all exposed experiments kept top secret for years. It gave the girl mixed feelings of amusement and fascination what went through the average humans brain to make them think such despicable thoughts? Was there something in their backgrounds that snapped them into the sinister infamous killers they are known for today? All of Kim’s thoughts were put on holt as she was put into a feeling of great shock when a violent tapping sound came from her window slowly and hesitantly picking up the thickest book she owned of her bed titled “ The secrets of a serial killer” for her protection, peeping her head slightly out from behind her mahogany coloured curtain’s all traces of crippling anxiety and blinding fear taking control over her entire body, plastering her into place like when you use a thick, sticky white substance to plaster wallpaper onto a painfully dull wall when moving into a new house.

{tap, tap,tap} the noise came again only more violent this time Kimberly in this moment becoming blinded by fear with every tap against her window.By the seventh tap something snapped in the back of Kimberly’s mind and her anxiety and fear was exchanged for shear fits of rage “how dare someone or something do this to her in her own house” still hesitant the poor girl gathered all traces of courage she had and picked her book up leaving it protrude over her head, levelled exactly to damage whatever was bothering her and attacking her window. “one…..two…….” counting slowly in her head ready to attack Kim took a breath after each count “THREE” Kimberly screamed in her head pulling back the drapes protecting the secrets of her room from the outside world and shot the book out of her window in sheer fits of aggression, crippling anxiety and paranoia. “OUCHHHHHH FRICKIN TAP DANCING JESUSE!!!” a familiar voice screamed out in agony Kimberly looked out her window analysing with great care for who she hit and after a few seconds of analysis she concluded that she hit her best and only friend a tallish boy withholding a tanned skin tone with the cutest of freckles to compliment his face , soft chocolate coloured eyes in which anyone could get lost in and deep brown hair neatly cut and styled that went by the name of Jack Hunter Andison splattered onto the floor like a fly being smashed against a wall. “Oh well done Kim you’ve done it again” a quick thought passed through Kimberley’s brain as she raced down the stairs to aid her friend back to health. “Oh, Jack I’m so sorry, I didn’t know it was you” The petite girl screamed in sorrow and guilt

“No, no” Jack insisted “Surely it was my fault, I mean its not everyday you get stones attacked at your window and spattered back with a book onto the sidewalk” Jack laughed in pain and embracement from the events which just occurred. “What did you come here for Jack?” Kimberly askes with a hint of interest in her voice as she carefully aided Jacks bruised head, Jack took a few moments to answer thinking with great concentration on how to spill the news.“Well.” Jack winced in pain as Kim aided his injury “You know about the Russian Sleep experiments from the 1940’s right?” “Oh boy! Have I ever, it’s so fascinating about the events that occurred and how the human body reacts to certain things Jack!” Kim’s voice projecting the happiness in her voice, this was one of the worlds mysterious experiments that intrigued her deeply. “ Well something like this has happened again recently Kim.. and.. there’s been one lone survivor. There bringing the survivor to our town for recognition and because this is the last place the creators of the experiment will look, nobody ever comes here to our crappy lil town” Jack explained in great detail slightly ranting towards the end.

Kimberly was hit with a wave of confusion soon after following with a massive wave of unanswered questions. “can we check this out in the library at school tomorrow Jack?” making it sound more of a fact then a question. “Yes but we have to be careful, if anyone finds out were getting ourselves into this were basically screwed” Jack stated in complete seriousness. The very next morning Kim and Jack arose before the slightest beam of sun touched the Earth giving it’s usual Morning greeting. Out onto the crunchy white blanket called snow a petite girl and lanky boy roamed the winter wonderland that was set before them like a black and white picture taken at Christmas time capturing the very essence of “perfect.” Soon after the duo set out onto their journey they were met by Juniper Hill founded in 1920 and the only high school in town, met to educate 600 this old fashioned bricked building educated 1200 making everyday a literal world war 3 creating a sense of irony since the second war ended in 1944, 14 years after the third held at the one place that was supposed to educate and protect juxtaposing its entire existence. Jack swung the doors open allowing the sudden violent bursts of heat to attack their cold body’s and bring a sense of hope to both teens, down the dark hallways a tapping of poorly made winter shoes made its calling down the one hallway which for once possessed all signs of peace, tranquillity and relaxation.Trailing down every book stall and looking through book after book they finally found what they had come for an entire essay had been written about this survivor with crimpled pictures provided and showcasing how old and long this case has gone undetected and heard. Two pairs of eyes scanned every detail being shown to ma kind the columns read { Project B~ Number 1927 formally known as Dylan Robinson as been under scientific measures for 8 years and in that time the founders have concluded that this experiment has given extraordinary results that could change the world however this experiment is very dangerous and with the results in the wrong hands mankind could be obliviated so all traces will be destroyed, results will be said to be conclusive and project B will be disposed of.} “This isn’t real” Kim said to herself

“It’s very real Kimberly” a sinister voice responded trying to mask it’s dark deeds with Jack sweet and husky like voice “What did you say Jack?”“Hmmmm” Jack managed to let a random noise escape this lips, Jack still deep reading and deeper in thought wasn’t properly listening to Kimberly and made some random noise to keep her from becoming angry and annoyed“Kimberlyyyy” the voice summoned again dragging out the Y in a very painful way “Non of this is real, Your crazy, Your Crazy Kimberly, Your never alone when your with meee, You’ll never be sane” Like when dragging chalk across a chalk board this dark and dangerous voice kept hitting Kimberly down shot after shot like a gun firing a full round of bullets intending to cause agony at any cost. Kim looked around her, her head becoming heavy. Body light like helium. The world begun to spin. The confused and scared girl turned to her only friend for comfort and support in this scary event that was taking place but her so called best friend just stood and stared withholding a stone cold face and neutral expression. Kimberly couldn’t believe him. She had been there for him for so long and when she really needed him he does nothing and just watches her, Jack’s face begun to change shape and slowly melt away his cute freckled face, adorable chocolate caramel eyes, his neatly cut hair it was all gone.The floor beneath Kim’s feet ripped open like when a saddo picks their grossly set ruby red scabby wounds the teen was submerged to a world of darkness and shadows as a shocking sensation attacked the left side of her rib cage.

A blurring light shot into Kimberly’s defenceless eye’s as the same shocking sensation as before weakened then disappeared leaving the poor girl’s body on the edge. “Yep it’s she’s been having a Episodes again Doctor” a mysterious voice emerged out of thin air“Take the Patient back to her room, well sort her treatment out later first I must see to Miss Gittus , she has been well mannered enough to return to her room were she has been placed with Miss Watson ” A tiny light blue room with two beds on one side of the room and another 2 on the other side of the room with a single wooden cabinet to contain house the patient’s essentials awaited Kimberly and her future roommate. Kimberly awoke from a peaceful slumber gazing out of the window into the outside world trying to remember what life she had outside of the Ward, her mind was blank the only thing she could think about was Jack. His soft caramel hair neatly styled back, his perfectly tanned face complimented by his freckles and his mesmerising deep brown chocolate eyes anyone was guaranteed to get lost in. Was her real? Or just part of the episodes Kim suffered from? Kimberly was suddenly pulled from her thoughts startled as to what was making a nose, slowly peering over the night Curtin that separated the beds Kimberly was shocked to see a girl in the bed next to hers. You see that bed had been empty ever since Kim was brought into the Mental Hospital which was exactly 5 months ago.

“Hello?” Kimberly questioned walking towards the mystery girl’s bed the girl just sat there staring at Kim blankly. “It’s okay” Kimberly protested in a innocent voice “I was scared to when I first arrived here but I’m not going to hurt you.” The girl still looked blankly at Kim who by this point had already given up trying to make her first friend in this place. The expressionless girl then got up out of her bed and exited the room with out a word. Kimberly soon following into the Dinner Room and she saw the girl from before just sat there with the same expressionless face staring down at a glass of water “Look you don’t have to talk to me, but I hate sitting alone and it’s good to have at least one person you can trust” Kimberly explained taking a seat opposite the girl “I’m Kimberly by the way what’s your name?” after a few agonising seconds the girl responded with “ Lauren” giving a weak smile after. “Well it’s nice to meet you Lauren, if you’ll let me I could show you around since it’s your first day here?” “Hmmm Okay deal” Kimberly took in every detail of the girl sitting before her taking note of her perfectly thin body, Beautiful brown ish eyes which reminded her of Jack’s and light brown locks trailing down past her shoulders. Although Kimberly didn’t believe in love at first sight she believed in that single moment that this Girl was the most mesmerizingly gorgeous person she had ever seen, in some ways Kimberly saw Lauren as an Angel all Elegant and Stunning. Soon after finishing their breakfast the 2 girls entered the game room or so it was called it basically consisted of checkers, chess and cards as Kimberly and Lauren were playing cards and having casual convocation getting to know each other since they were sharing the same room the topic of why they were there was soon brought up which made both Girls entire body’s go ice cold and paralysed with fear.

Kimberly first spoke breaking the silence but not really knowing how to start “Well I’m here because I suffer with Episodes or Hallucinations as they are most commonly known.” Kimberly explained to Lauren watching the girls eye’s have a river of sympathy and somewhat understanding, when Kimberly finally got around to the second reason she was locked up and treated like a disease she became very very hesitant and scared of what the girl in front of her may think. “I’m also here because.. em..Because…. Because I’m apparently sick up here for liking girls” Kimberly finally got the right words out motioning her fingers to tap her head.“Ahh I see well there’s nothing wrong about that Kim don’t you worry I’m here because I had a break down and people think I’m off ma rock for suffering with Social anxiety when it’s not even my fault you see a few years back I lost my brother due to him being taken for a top secret experiment inspired by the 1940’s sleep experiment only it went horribly wrong and my brother and several others faced a sickening death.” Lauren explained raising her voice with tears forming in her eyes, Kimberly felt really bad for Lauren because she couldn’t really do much but explain to her that everything is going to be okay and that’s exactly what she did Kimberly the petite teen wrapped her arms around Lauren’s slim frame embracing her into a hug and whispering in a gentle and sweet like honey tone “everything is going to be alright, I’m here sweetie, everything is going to be okay you are safe with me there’s nothing to worry about.” Lauren felt safe in the girls arms, like nothing could harm her and she was on top of the world soon after Kimberly was loosening her embrace around Lauren when Lauren hugged tighter causing Kimberly to do the same for a few moments.

Both girls never wanted it to end but knew it had to especially Kimberly who refused to get another shocking treatment for being “mentally Sick for liking girls” soon after the comfort Kimberly showered Lauren with all patients were sent of to their room for medication time.

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ghostwise · 4 years

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i’ve got finals, i’ve got essays due (i have got lots & lots of problems)

More modern au shenanigans! Title from a song. This one mentions @vlwv‘s warden, Mavis. Sticking to my resolution to write more things that are over 500 words long. :)

“Soo… do you have an evacuation plan yet?” Alistair asks, trying to sound casual.

The question means a lot of things. It means, ‘What is your evacuation plan? Surely you must have one!’ It also means ‘Are you as frightened as I am?’ And, perhaps even, ‘How can I make sure you are safe?’

But that’s a lot of words to trip over. And it’s too early in the day to be anxious.

Hamal, picking up on none of that, just glares at Alistair over his cereal bowl. He is seated on the couch, starting his day, while Alistair is at the table, on his third cup of coffee, five pages into an essay that is due by noon.

“No,” Hamal says, and returns to his breakfast.

Alistair taps a highlighter on the table, nonplussed.

“Don’t you think we should-?”

“Absolutely not. Anyway don’t you have, like, ten more pages of essay to write?” He looks at him intently. “Can you afford another late assignment, Alistair?”

Alistair lays his head onto the table and groans, because, no, he can’t. He doesn’t ask any more questions, and instead returns to his work.

It’s strange, how the days can proceed with such utter normalcy while, elsewhere, things fall apart. Hamal is right though. Ten percent of his final grade would be docked for each consecutive day the work was late. Ten percent! He needs to focus.

Just as well, too.

The peace in Amaranthine is as silky smooth as the surface of a soap bubble. There are essays to consider, and classes to attend. Alistair types away at his desk, and for a while the apartment is quiet. Hamal finishes his breakfast and makes more coffee.

A car screeches to a halt in the street, and the sound of the engine is familiar enough for Alistair to quip, as Hamal leaves, “Say hi to Tamlen for me. Tell him I’d be happy to replace his brake pads sometime.”

Then Alistair is left alone in the tenuous quiet of the apartment.

Like a bubble, like a snowflake careening towards a warm breeze.

“Fuck,” Alistair hisses. “Fuck, no, fuck, please no.”

There is no internet connection! his laptop cheerfully informs him. Try: checking the network cables, modem, and router. Reconnecting to Wi-Fi…

The time on his phone says 11:45am. He slams his laptop shut, picks it up and sprints out of the apartment with it tucked under his arm. His destination is the café three blocks over, and he runs the whole way, dodging around people and traffic.

Once inside he unceremoniously crashes into the nearest empty table, opening his laptop and connecting to the café’s wi-fi.

“Thank the Maker,” he says to no one in particular, though the people walking by are beginning to look at him funny.

After a moment, a familiar voice greets him. “Cretin. Internet access for paying customers only!”

“Yes, Morrigan,” Alistair waves her off, watching his file upload. “A cup of whatever the soup of the day is please! Owe you one!”

He doesn’t even have the decency to glance her way as she scrunches her nose and narrows her eyes at him. “Fine,” she mutters, turning and adjusting her apron. “Thank you for your continued patronage. For the record, I turned my paper in three days ago.”

Alistair nods absently.

Sweet, sweet relief floods his system as the assignment posts to his online classroom. He feels his heart rate begin to slow. A cup of shrimp and corn chowder is summarily deposited in front of him.

“If you need help paying off your internet bill,” she adds sweetly, “you need only ask.”

“You are so, so creepy,” Alistair sighs. “Who are your sources?”

Morrigan only shrugs and walks back behind the counter.

It is 11:58am. Alistair runs a hand through his hair, rubs at his eyes and smiles. Moment of crisis over, he digs into his soup with enthusiasm. He suddenly remembers he didn’t bring his wallet with him.

When he mentions this to Morrigan, she goes a few shades pale.

“You realize, I am at work,” she tells him, monotone. “I cannot strangle you while I am at work, and yet you put me in a situation, wh… a situation like this? Callously, you look me in the face? Without sympathy? You dare-?”

“Big, big tips for pals who let their friend run real quick to his apartment to get his wallet,” he says, smiling sheepishly. “I swear! Please don’t curse me.”

Morrigan purses her lips. “Leave your jacket and laptop, so it looks like you went to the restroom,” she says finally.

“Thank you!!”

“I know where you live.”

“Noted!”

Alistair is sure his absence from the café shouldn’t be too suspicious. It’s gracious of Morrigan to cover for him. She’s warming up to him, he figures; she’s friends with his roommate after all.

Speaking of, Hamal is still not back, and is likely going to be out with Tamlen until late in the evening. Alistair has no classes today, so he has free reign of the place.

It’s times like these that make him wish he were a little more graceful in social matters. Hamal has so many friends. Meanwhile, Alistair is not exactly unpopular, but he feels like everyone he knows was introduced to him by someone else. Taking the initiative is hard for him.

He has phone numbers for a few of his classmates. Mavis, Jowan, Zevran—maybe he should text one of them? Or all of them? Invite them over for a beer?

He’s considering it, honestly, as he plucks his wallet off the dresser by the door, and takes the steps downstairs by two. But he nearly trips as he reaches the ground floor.

“Oh, damn,” he wheezes, righting his steps. But he can’t help but stumble, overhearing what his downstairs neighbors are talking about.

“You alright?” one of them asks.

“I’m fine,” he says. “What were you saying? About the quarantine?”

“That it’s… it’s in Redcliffe.”

Alistair feels a rush of anxiety, just like this morning. “I have family there,” he says after a moment, as if there’s anything they can do about it.

“I’m sorry. You better call them. We’re calling our people now.”

“Yes… I, uhm… yes, likewise.”

Pit in his stomach, Alistair reaches for his phone. His pocket’s empty.

His jacket, he realizes, is at the café.

It’s the longest walk back. He feels cold all over, hearing the news spread all around him. People are talking about it, and it’s on the television screens he walks past the shops.

Defying a recent trend, which seemed to suggest the pathogen had slowed in its spread… new cases have been reported in the townships of Redcliffe and Lothering… a spokesman from the National Health Organization answers questions with us, live…

Morrigan is glaring daggers when he finally makes it back, but she reads him well enough to withhold judgment. He’s shaking so badly he can barely bring up his mother’s phone number, jumping slightly when she answers.

“Mom?”

“Alistair,” Fiona breathes through the speaker. “I was going to call you.”

“Are you- are you safe?”

“I’m in Denerim.”

Somehow, it hits him then. Alistair shuts his eyes and just breathes for a moment. “Thank goodness,” he manages. He can feel his mother’s anxiety through the phone, though, and after a moment she forces a laugh.

“I’m fine,” she assures him. “We… can’t go back home, though, not right away. Not until the quarantine lifts. But I was out of town for work, and…”

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Alistair says. “Where are you staying? You should come here, we should be close by, just... just in case!”

She laughs at that, and Alistair feels a bit of the tension ease.

They chat for a while, reassuring one another, but by the time they hang up Alistair only feels marginally better.

Orlais. She wants him to apply for a passport, and take a semester off to go to Orlais with her. Just how long is this quarantine expected to last? Nobody talks about it, but if Fiona is that worried…

Morrigan gets a $10 tip.

#rinnywrites #dragon age #au: 6th blight #idk how to tag it really? lol #this au requires a lot of suspension of disbelief but i enjoy it a lot and i hope (as i share more of it) that y'all do too!!

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