Pronouns: He/She/Ze/They, pretty much anything but it (whatever you feel my vibe is, there are no wrong answers)
I write the occasional shitty poem, and I have a few wips that I’m planning on posting about. I love pirates, cowboys, Treasure Planet, and Merlin, as well as a lot of other things, but those are the main things I talk about here.
@scoobydoowhatareyou is one of my alt blogs, you can pry the name of my main blog from my cold, dead hands, this is for feelings and if one of my real life friends finds this I’ll kill them and then die
@A_Human_Tree on AO3 (I swear, I’ll update eventually)
I think I’m beautiful a few minutes out of every day, but he sees me covered in paint and batter and saves the picture. I wear a baggy t-shirt one day, and a dress with a corset the next and he looks at me the same on both days. I say “I look good in the bathroom light” and he smiles at me, his eyes telling me I am the light. I show him something I made today, say it’s better than yesterday’s, and he tells me why each are beautiful.
I have never been loved this way, and I hope it shows.
I woke up this morning with no color in my soul, and I couldn't even tell you I loved you when I said good morning. Then I heard you speak, I heard you call me yours, and suddenly all the color burst back into the world. There’s something so poetic in how you fill my heart with warmth and color, and I wish I could do it justice.
There’s something so poetic in staying up late just to read one word he writes, hanging on every letter and knowing I won’t wake with the sun in the morning.
I love to study, I have an ever curious mind, and right now I want to study him. I want to memorize his every scar, no matter how faded, and kiss them each hundreds of times, I want to kiss and touch every part of him he hates enough that he sees them and thinks only of me. I want to know what his mom cooked for dinner when money was thin, I want to know what music she played on long drives, I want to know every step that carried him to who he is today. I want to learn his favorite foods and make them enough that I don’t need a recipe. I want to know his smell and his face with my eyes closed. I want to know him blind, in madness, and in death. I want to know him inside and out, I want to kiss the scars that can’t be touched and help him dress the still healing wounds.
-The way Captain Amelia’s pupils dilate when she’s interested in something is so good
-And her ears are expressive
-MORPH
-How he redeems himself and betters himself and how the cops bring him home at the end as a contrast to the beginning and the contrast between the “I just want him to be a little boy again bringing pets home” and then bringing in Billy Bones
-The eavesdropping on his mom being disappointed in him is so real for me
-I’m getting a tattoo from this movie and no one can stop me
It’s times like this where I feel the most agnostic, because it’s times like this that I used to pray and hope someone was listening. Just me in the darkness, feeling all of my feelings while Jack Johnson plays beside me. In the same bed where I begged and begged a god I was taught not to believe in to give me a sign that I would be okay.
They can’t get into their dorm because they missed the tour/orientation whatever and they have to wait outside until their roommate shows up and lets them in.
They show up early to all of their classes the first week so the professor is there to open the door and let them in, which works almost every time (There’s a class in that room fifteen minutes before his starts, so the professor doesn’t need to unlock it).
They can’t take the bus because they don’t want to bother the driver with needing to be invited in.
They always ask “hey, is your bathroom open to the public”/“hey do you have a bathroom” in stores and restaurants so they can be invited to go to the bathroom.
And of course they never get caught because they’re just an awkward, sleep-deprived goth/emo/punk/whatever who is pale, sleep deprived, and never eats in the dining hall. So a quarter (at least) of the people on my campus anyway.
Hi, so maybe I’m a little unclear on the vampire rules, but would vampires not be able to use public transit? Because they have to be invited in? I know that’s for houses, but I think it would be hilarious if vampires couldn’t go on busses because they have to be invited in. Would the doors opening count?
Bluegrass siren who lives in lakes and rivers and lures redneck fisherman to watery graves. He does occasionally get caught by fly fishermen, but he could outfish anyone.
“It’s been three days, Gaius. Three days! I’m not just going to keep sitting idly by while my- while the crown prince of Camelot dies in his sleep! I am supposed to be the greatest sorcerer to ever live, I know I can fix him Gaius. I don’t care about the consequences, I am not losing him.”
“I understand your feelings, Merlin, but you mustn’t let them cloud your judgement. What will the townsfolk think when all their loved ones have died of some mysterious plague, while their prince makes a recovery? They’ll suspect magic, or some cure hidden away for only the nobility.”
“I don’t care.”
Merlin walks away, slamming the door behind him and barely resisting the urge to lock Gaius inside his room. He rushes to Arthur, half-collapsing onto his bed. His legs have grown week from reading instead of sleeping, but it doesn’t matter because he doesn’t want to spend his time anywhere but here.
“I will find a way to heal you, Arthur. I don’t care what it does to me or the kingdom, all I know is that my purpose is saving you. And I will fulfill that purpose. Until it kills me.” Merlin takes a deep breath, bracing himself on his knees, and places his hands on Arthur’s chest. He doesn't bother with incantations, he has no idea what he’d say. Instead, he feels. Feels love and anger and sadness, everything that means Arthur. He sees the first time they met, he sees every adventure they’s been on, he sees him alive and vibrant and full of life. And he pushes it all into Arthur’s chest.
Then he immediately collapses om top of him, arms prickly and numb like he’d been in the cold too long. His brain is a fog, and he’s only moderately aware of the words tumbling out of his mouth. “Please, Arthur. I need you, Arthur. You are my life, Arthur. Please. Please. Come back, come back to me Arthur.”
It feels like years before the man beneath him stirs. His eyes fly open, and Merlin regains all control of his body at once, leaping up to join Arthur on the little bed, hugging him. A wayward tear falls from his eye when Arthur hugs him back, weak arms holding him as tightly as they can. He looks up to say something, but all words are knocked out of him by Arthur’s intense stare. Before Merlin even thinks to be scared, Arthur is pulling him into a kiss. Merlin feels like fireworks are going off, and he’s sure he distantly heard something explode. But that doesn't matter right now. What matters is him and Arthur and how right their lips feel together.
When one of them finally pulls away, Arthur’s smile wavers. “You, uh, you have magic?”
Merlin feels as though a needle pierced his heart. He sits up, “Yes. But I use it for you. Only ever for you, Arthur. Everything I do is for the safety of you. And sometimes Camelot, but you are always my priority. And I have never hesitated to kill anyone who uses magic for darker means, I-”
He is cut off by Arthur’s hand over his mouth. “We can talk about this later. I- I understand why you didn't tell me. For now, just get back down here so I can kiss you again.”
