May 20, 2015
rabramovich replied to your post: “anyway does anyone maybe wanna come talk to me rn”:
talk to mee
yallah lets do it
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rabramovich replied to your post: “anyway does anyone maybe wanna come talk to me rn”:
talk to mee
yallah lets do it
47 for jarlive!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
lmao i didnt even use the line but WHATEVER JUST TAKE THIS
7, 9, 10, 13 and 18 for ednove
7.
edison only plays small gigs anymore, in the years long after technicolor madman crashes and burns along with a certain relationship that he’s finally managed to get off his mind. long after a series of being stuck between a rock and a hard place, long after the detox and the relapse and the depression and everything else kind of subsides. edison plays small, safe gigs in shitty little bars where he only orders coke— the soda, not the drug, which is a conscious distinction. he settles, finally, into some semblance of a comfort zone.
but, as they say, nothing gold can stay. he catches a glimpse of a familiar face after a set. edison isn’t necessarily trying to avoid a confrontation; he likes to think at this point he’s come to terms with things, changed his mental processes enough that his gut reaction isn’t one of hostility. it’s not like he’s trying to avoid a confrontation, but it’s not like he goes looking for one either. it finds him instead.
“hey, eddie. edison,” november says, clearing his throat.
edison tries for a smile. not sure if he manages one, he tries for a content “hi”.
“wow, uh…” november runs a hand through his hair. “how long has it been?”
the tightening in his chest isn’t a good sign. edison finds himself wishing his body would fucking cooperate for once. he slips a little, grimaces— as if they both don’t know exactly how fucking long it’s been. and then he tries for a smile again. “i don’t know, man,” he lies.
9.
the first time november realizes that edison has issues— real, deep-seated issues— is the first time he sees him come down hard from a high. this isn’t the usual woke-up-hungover-and-cranky edison, not even the tired and worn out and empty edison, an infrequent but still jarring occurrence. no, this is edison hurting. wretching violently, but more like he’s just yelling into the toilet bowl when there’s nothing left in his stomach to vomit up. shoulders stiff, trying to keep them from shaking, and knuckles white as he clutches the sides of the bowl, and breathing all heavy and ragged in between shouts. november likes to think he’s used to edison, that he’s grown accustomed to handling him when he’s being difficult, whether it’s unintentional or not. but this is something else. november just stands in the doorway, watching the muscles in edison’s back tense, lifts his hands and then lets them fall to his sides and then puts them back up to stare at them as if he can’t fathom what to do with them. edison croaks, “can you just fuck off?”
november wants to say something, do something, comforting, but nothing he knows would work at a time like this. somehow, his brain puts together a sentence of its own accord: “you know, it’s okay to cry.” with a burst of regret and bristling at the potential reaction to his poorly thought out attempt at consolation, november leaves and shuts the bathroom door behind him, leaning against the door and sliding to the floor. he hears edison’s broken sobs coming from inside.
10. (i am doing quintheia for this one)
it’s much more tense between the two of you after the season ends, which almost goes without saying for two stubborn assholes who don’t process their feelings. you find yourself wondering where you stand with her, find yourself picking up your phone to talk to her, find yourself pissily shoving your phone back into your pocket because you know what if she wanted to say something she would’ve and she obviously doesn’t because she hasn’t so why is it up to you to make the first move? (and you try to imagine her thinking the same thing, right up until you see pictures of her at some party and you stubbornly try to tell yourself you’re over it.)
frederique drags you out to brunch one day, and you catch sight of theia on her way out as you’re on your way in. you make eye contact. you think maybe there’s something there. it’s a fleeting moment that seems to last for hours, and something about her gaze seems fiery, almost like a dare. but maybe you’re projecting.
later, eliot drags you out to an event. (it’s a party, but eliot insists on calling it an event.) you find yourself wondering if she’ll be there.
she is. you make eye contact again, recreating your moment from earlier. and then you look away and turn back to look at another girl who giggles and flutters her eyelashes and drapes herself across you. which is definitely something you’d find satisfactory, but not today. you’re still thinking about theia, and there’s some sense of longing but fuck why do you have to make the first move?
you put it off for as long as possible, but then you catch her alone. really, it wasn’t something you’d planned. she’s uncharacteristically somber, standing pensively against a wall with a drink in hand. you say her name, she looks up. “took you long enough.” she doesn’t tack on a smirk or any of her thick layers of irony. she just looks up at you, nary an eyebrow raised.
fuck. you reach out to hold her face and you lean down slightly to kiss her, rough and hungry and wanting. and then you pull back. “sorry,” you breathe, but you kiss her again.
“well?” she says, when you’ve pulled away again. her expression has softened, and you feel her breath gently against your jaw.
“well what?”
she rolls her eyes. “what do you want, exactly?”
you kiss her again. breathing heavily when you pull your lips away just slightly, you say, “i just want this.”
13. (i am also doing quintheia for this one)
there are so few moments that you find yourself alone with theia anymore, really alone with her. so few and far between and always somewhat surreal in that liminal space between drunk and sober, between loud and quiet, between together and not really together together. she says, one night while the two of you are sitting on a slanted rooftop, “have you ever wanted to hate someone?”
you say, “am i supposed to say it was you?”
she shrugs, and there’s a long pause. “you know...” she starts. and then she shakes her head. “never mind.”
she gets up and leaves through the window behind you. and you do know.
18.
(this ones gonna be ednove bu t i literally dont even have it in me to write it and i just wanna publish this post besides U KNO ANYWAY)
11 and 16, ednove and tamluc for whichever number
fuckin u picked hard number/ship combos wtf dickhole
11.
the party stalks back to where they’d last made camp, all silent after a particularly demanding encounter with a band of rebel mages. tam pressed his forearm his side, thinking maker if i bleed out and die in the fucking hinterlands… by the time they’d made it all the way back, he was light-headed, dizzily throwing himself into one of the tents. he sat for a moment, head spinning, trying not to pass out before even beginning to think about addressing the gaping wound right below his ribs. he let his eyes close, tipped his head back and just breathed in the rusty scent of drying blood.
“that was pretty fucking idiotic.” tam hadn’t heard anyone come in, but he opened his eyes to see jean-luc, armor all still on except for the helmet. he looked weary, gaunt and pale with dark and puffy eyes.
tam looked up at him. “could’ve been worse,” he noted. “could’ve been you.”
something changes about jean-luc, something in his eyes is suddenly different. he regards tam with a certain intensity, a slight furrow in his brows. “you don’t have to protect me,” he says. he looks like he wants to add something else, something he can’t quite articulate.
tam sighs, “yes, i do,” and there’s so much more than just those three words, so much hanging palpably in the air that goes unsaid. but jean-luc understands.
16.
“i did a pregnancy test,” jean-luc announces, coming out of the bathroom holding a plastic white stick.
tam smirks without looking up from his laptop. “was it positive? are we gonna be daddies?” and then suddenly, his head snaps up, smirk gone and replaced with a more serious look. “wait, shit. seriously was it positive? because that could be ball cancer. fuck, do you have ball cancer?” he said it all lightly, still joking but with an undertone of anxiety, an unnoticeable base of what if?
jean-luc begins, “it was…”
a pause.
jean-luc straight-faced, tam narrowing his eyes slightly with the beginnings of possible panic.
“…not,” jean-luc continues, breaking character. “it was not.”
tam throws the nearest thing his hands can find (a water bottle). “asshole! fuck, don’t scare me like that.”
(later, jean-luc asks, “were you, like, for real scared?” tam answers, “i don’t know, i guess not. still: dick move.”)
*star* for jean luc, charlive, james and kass!!!
alrighty
jean-luc
romantic orientation: panromantic
sexual orientation: pansexual
gender: god i wanna say genderfluid mb ??
neurodivergent?: probably not but i’ll be thinking about this now
other random headcanon: i was thinking abt tam-luc inquisition au where jean-luc is the inquisitor and tam is either a rogue or a mage who just follows him around all heart-eyes emoji MORE ON THIS STORY AT ELEVEN BACK TO YOU SUSAN
charlive
romantic orientation: gray-aro or demiro tbh
sexual orientation: gay as hell
gender: cis dude and honestly quite terrible about it
neurodivergent?: nah
other random headcanon: leaks his own nudes
james (oh god my trash son)
romantic orientation: hetero
sexual orientation: heterooooo no who am i kidding he’s bi (listen 2 me james’s bi awakening is important ok)
gender: cis dude
neurodivergent?: maybe adhd? maaaaaybeee borderline personality disorder
other random headcanon: sometimes likes 2 wear feminine clothes n undies (THX AVERY)
kass
romantic orientation: panromantic
sexual orientation: ace af
gender: demigirl !!!
neurodivergent?: ye, either dysthymia or cyclothymia
other random headcanon: constantly sending glitter bombs to ppl who annoy her and always wins at cards against humanity
send me characters and i’ll tell you my headcanons
playlist: cyberpunk robot fairy
follow (monolith remix) - crystal fighter
lawn knives - born gold
kids (soulwax remix) - mgmt
air war - crystal castles
we love animals (feat. soulwax and mixhell) - crookers
patience - feed me
rabramovich replied to your post“hi this my “prom” dress what do u think its a terrible pic i know but...”
it looks fantastic on you!
thank you! :)
1-25
ok. is this for that oc ask meme. bc. i just noticed this… ok.