alice lost her muchness

“I hate to hear you talk about all women as if they were fine ladies instead of rational creatures. None of us want to be in calm waters all our lives.” ― Jane Austen Tracking the tag temporarilydistracted.

[bostonpoetryslam]

Have you ever made a mistake? A real one? Burned or held a body you didn’t want because you could feel its ruin, and it wasn’t you. By mistake, I mean I would like to be absolved.

Stevie Edwards (via facina-oris)

[temporarilydistracted]

The first time I saw her, everything in my head went quiet.

All the tics, all the constantly refreshing images just disappeared.

When you have obsessive compulsive disorder, you don't really get quiet moments. Even in bed I'm thinking: did I lock the door yet did I wash my hands yet did I lock the door yet did I wash my hands yet -

When I saw her, the only thing I could think about was the hairpin curve or her lips or the eyelash on her cheek the eyelash on her cheek the eyelash on her cheek -

I knew I had to talk to her. I asked her out six times in thirty seconds. She said yes after the third one but none of them felt right so I had to keep going. On our first date I spent more time organizing my meal by color than I did eating or fucking talking to her, but she loved it. She loved that I had to kiss her goodbye sixteen times or twenty-four times if it was Wednesday. She loved that it took me forever to walk home because there are lots of cracks on our sidewalk! When we moved in together, she said she felt safe, like no one would ever rob us because I definitely locked the door eighteen times. 

I'd always watch her mouth when she talked when she talked when she talked when she talked -

When she said she loved me, her mouth would curl up at the edges. At night, she'd lay in bed and watch me turn the lights off - and on and off and on and off and on and off. She'd close her eyes, and imagine that days and nights were just passing in front of her. 

Some mornings, I'd start kissing her goodbye but she'd just leave because I was making her late for work. When I stopped at a crack in the sidewalk, she just kept walking. When she said she loved me, her mouth was a straight line. She told me I was taking up too much of her time. Last week, she started sleeping at her mother's place. She told me that she shouldn't have let me get so attached to her. 

That this whole thing was a mistake, but how can it be a mistake that I don't have to wash my hands after I touch her?

Love is not a mistake. It's killing me that she can run away from this and I just can't. I can't go out and find someone new because I always think of her. 

Usually, when I obsess over things, I see germs sneaking into my skin. I see myself crushed by an endless procession of cars and she was the first beautiful thing I ever got stuck on.

I want to wake up every morning thinking about the way she holds her steering wheel, how she turns showers off like she's opening a safe, how she blows out candles blows out candles blows out candles blows out candles blows out candles blows out candles blows out -

Now, I just think about who else is kissing her. I can't breathe because he only kisses her once. He doesn't care if it's perfect.

I want her back so bad I leave the door unlocked. I leave the lights on.

This has been sitting in my drafts for so long it felt wrong not to post it. I hope it moves you as much as it moves me. 

Love you guys, see you all soon. 

[the-house-of-slytherin]

[facinaoris]

myth fashion

poseidon ;

[larmoyante]

All sins are attempts to fill voids.

Simone Weil  (via facina-oris)

[temporarilydistracted]

That Which We Call A Rose || Igor & Alice || January 2nd, 1979

[karkaroff-silvertongue]

As if the headrush that came of hanging upside down weren’t bad enough, the rosebush was also refusing to hold still and Igor found himself being bounced up and down nauseatingly. He spat a few choice profanities in Bulgarian as one of the spiny branches tore away his boot and he felt the bite of the thorns around his ankle through his sock. His scarf – the one his parents had sent him – was tugged away too, almost strangling him as the plant snatched it away from him. Leaves and petals were raining down around him and he nearly choked when one got in his mouth. Coughing, he spat it out again and renewed his struggles, increasingly desperate to be free and right side up once more. If he had not been on the verge of panic, he would have known this was an idiotic thing to do ; he knew his way around magical plants and knew that struggling against them usually was a big no-no. Unfortunately, all he could really think about at the moment was the restraining grip of the thorny branches and being completely helpless with someone pointing a wand at him.

The rosebush didn’t appreciate his attempts to escape. Even more branches were snaking towards him, twining around his knees, his waist, his shoulders. He could feel the threatening brush of thorns at his throat as well, too light at the moment to do damage, but a clear warning should he continue to struggle. He ceased his movements and while that seemed to appease the bush enough that it wasn’t sending any more branches to further entangle him, it didn’t do much else.

The witch snapped at him and he tried to focus his attention back on her, which was easier said than done at this point. He wasn’t quite sure what she was accusing him of, some of the words she used being ones that would have gone over his head even in the best of circumstances, but the accusatory tone helped a lot. “Nothing!” he snapped back, voice rather more hysterical than he intended. “I am here to give her a gift! That is all! Now letmedownbeforeIamsick!” The last sentence had been hissed in a single breath through his teeth as a particularly sharp shake of the bush sent a strong wave of nausea rolling through him. The book that he had brought for Emmeline was on the ground nearby and he tried to point to it as proof of his innocent intentions, but both his wrists were held fast now. “I am here only to give her a book!” His voice had risen a good half-octave in the stress of the situation.

What was Emmeline doing being best friends with an Auror? She ought to be friends with nice people!

She’s friends with me.

Shut up!

It really ought not surprise him that Emmeline’s friends were vast and varied. She was, after all, possibly the friendliest person he had ever met. Who apparently has a killer rosebush.

So does my mother. That’s hardly something to judge someone by.

[temporarilydistracted]

Alice's snarl slowly began to melt from her face with every successive second spent really considering what she was seeing. Igor Karkaroff, evidently alone-- Merlin knew there didn't seem to be a horde of masked and robed men spilling out to come to his defence-- and bearing a gift for Emmeline. She wouldn't have believed it in the slightest had the little parcel that fell out from beneath his coat gone unnoticed. Two blue eyes reluctant to break contact with the upside-down man, Alice nevertheless bent to prod at the wrapper cautiously with the tip of her wand.

Mysterious Gardens and their Enchantments.

Well, she thought. That's ironic. 

He seemed harmless enough, and Alice would never be half as blindly paranoid as her lover. It was no surprise that a finite incantatum did little at all in the face of a charm she was more and more sure Moody himself had placed. A couple other tentatively attempted counter-charms and one clever little hex seemed to work opposite of how she had anticipated; the bush grew larger and more lively, as if absorbing the magic like some kind of twisted fertilizer, rather than settling back down into the bush it ought to have been.

"Fucking shit," Alice breathed again, watching the thorned branches wriggle with enthusiasm in her direction and wishing she had paid more attention in Herbology class. "I'm open to suggestions unless you want to stay up there until I can get some help."

[newblogisjacindaelena]

[temporarilydistracted]

by Annija Muižule

[temporarilydistracted]

Been stalking this rp and I am considering applying for Frank but I was wondering if you would be open to the idea of Fralice if there was a lot of chemistry between our writing? Thanks

ooc:

I’m so happy to hear from you and that you’re considering applying for Frank!

I’m going to be entirely upfront with you— Alice is not at all an easy girl to ship with. She’s rough, obstinate, and extremely touchy. I went into this with this weird idea that she was going to be something along the lines of a watered-down and less cute Nai’s Emmeline. It didn’t work out. (Let's get real, only one person can write Emmeline properly: Nai.) She kind of clashes with the fanon version of Alice I see most frequently, not that there's anything wrong with the fanon version! I always find myself thinking of how Zaz describes her, aka the best label I’ve ever put on Alice: “overwhelmed but not overwhelming”. She is totally overwhelming, though, and can come off as a giant bitch. Alice, not Zaz. Zaz is a cool cat and kind of my idol hello Zaz I see you creepin'.

I'm open for anything and would love for you to give Frank a shot. You're right about the chemistry, though-- I think it's necessary for any ship. I'd dig it if you popped off anon to chat a bit. I'm happy to answer any questions you may have! 

[apricotblush-deactivated2019071]

Paolo Sebastian Haute Couture A/W (2014/15)

[temporarilydistracted]

⊕ : Talents/hobbies headcanon

If there is a book within eyeshot, her fingers itch to flip through its pages. It's her strongest addiction by far; something about the scent of the glue that binds the pages together gets her going. She's a workaholic. She doesn't have much time for hobbies.

Her strongest talent, on the other hand, is duelling. She considers it a talent, anyways. It's really more of an asset, but she outargues me any time I try and bring it up. 

[a-pyrrhic-victory]

Character head canons!

[temporarilydistracted]

Send these around to your fellow RPers at any time :)

☾ : Sleep headcanon ☠ : Drinking/drunk headcanon ☼ : Childhood headcanon ☯ : Genderbent headcanon ⋆ : Sex headcanon ☮ : Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon ☄ : Any AU headcanon (modern, school, medieval, and so on) ♤ : Cooking headcanon ⊕ : Talents/hobbies headcanon ☻ : Mood headcanon ✚ : health headcanon ✿ : happiness headcanon ✖ : anger headcanon ♆ : body headcanon ϡ : mental state headcanon ღ : love or sexuality headcanon ♡ : relationship with (give name or url) † : religion headcanon ✄ : pet peeve headcanon ☂ : food headcanon ♒ : Any other question of your choosing

[temporarilydistracted]

When I first stalked about this rp and saw that Alice was cheating on Frank I was like, pissed off. But then I read it- yes, I read a solid year's worth of interactions between Alastor and Alice, I got zero work done that week- and it makes sense, it's extremely well done and it feels very natural even if it sometimes felt wrong. And it's hot :p. Ignore all the mean anons- this anon loves it <3

ooc:

I know this is from a while back and I'm so sorry for not answering it until now. I had thought at the time that to answer this would just attract more negative attention from whoever stumbles into my inbox every time they get in a black mood. 

You're right. My ship is abrasive and immoral. It's kind of like dark chocolate-- you either love it, or you can't stand the taste. 

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, not for learning to love it (or even tolerate it) but for giving it a chance. Reading a year's worth of interactions is daunting as fuck and I can't believe you wasted your time reading that much smut! 

I had my anons turned off for a long time because I couldn't figure out who was harassing me and didn't want to deal with it any longer. I just realized I don't want to ignore the good people just to keep the awful people out my inbox. You're the best, anon. Thank you for brightening my night.

[wonder-squint-deactivated201410]

Max Hardy || Colours

[temporarilydistracted]

Alice the Auror.

[edgarbonesknows]

On the Lam || Edgar & Alice || December 28th, 1978

[edgarbonesknows]

Edgar stared in awe as Alice completely ignored his indication to run and instead watched the best he could from where he was pushed against the car as she lurched forward, one hand free of the cuffs, and delivered a series of blows that had poor officer Ash on his knees. It was terrifying, impressive, and - embarrassingly - slightly arousing. It took a moment for him to get his head together when she yelled at him, at a loss for words after such a display. Not that he had assumed Alice couldn’t hold her own in a fight. She was an Auror after all, and not only that but there was something about the way she carried herself that told him she was not someone to be messed with. But he had never had the pleasure of seeing her in action. 

It wasn’t until Cal made a sudden movement in the corner of his eye that he jumped into action again. Working on instinct he swung a high kick and knocked the gun out of Cal’s hands before it could be properly aimed. Doing his best to stay balanced he kicked up with his other foot and knocked Cal back. Stumbling on the landing, he managed to catch himself before he fell but didn’t waste any more time than that. The other police officers who had helped stop him had spotted the commotion and were now running towards them with their guns at the ready. Edgar decided then that he had fought with enough Muggle cops for one day. Pausing only for a moment, he leaned down awkwardly and grabbed the skates from officer Ash’s shoulder, accidentally hitting him in the face with one as he straightened up. Luckily the skate guards prevented any serious damage but Ash still let out a grunt of pain at the contact. “Shit! Sorry! Shit! We should run!” Hands still handcuffed behind his back with the skates swinging painfully against the back of his thighs, he started to run in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron. If they could make it there they would be safe.

Glancing back to make sure Alice was with him he let out a string of curses and tried to shout a breathless apology at her over the sound of the officer’s cries behind them, “Sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean —— I didn’t think ——” He took a sharp turn around a corner and spotted the Leaky Cauldron not far away. Relief flooded him at the sight, they would be home-free soon. Well, almost free. He was still struggling with the handcuffs that Alice had somehow managed to escape. He made a mental note to ask her how she did it so quickly once they were safe, maybe he could use it to impress Rommie.

[temporarilydistracted]

She may have laughed-- and blushed furiously, of course, but certainly laughed-- to hear Edgar consider her attractive for a brief span of time. She couldn't blame him. She had been raised to believe women women didn't wake up beautiful; they painted their beauty on with charms, with cosmetics, with corsets and in-vogue apparel. They flaunted their beauty by sitting still as statues, by speaking when spoken to, when offering gentle smiles to one another and any man they hoped to woo--

Alice had never been very good at that kind of beauty.

Around age fifteen, when she had mastered duelling to such a degree that she consistently wiped the floor with even the most advanced of the seventh years during duelling club, Alice had an epiphany. She would never be beautiful in the way her mother believed a woman should be. She would be beautiful the way a Veela was-- subtle advances, graceful movements, and a vicious flash of sharp teeth. A god fight forced her blood to sing through her veins. Alice was more a barbarian than a blue-blooded little socialite. She traded in her delicate dress robes for a heavy Auror's jacket; traded in her tea cups for the pair of brass knuckles she pulled from her pocket and slipped on as Edgar turned heel and ran.

It took a moment for her to notice his sudden absence, too caught up in a wave of blood lust to realize he was gone when the policemen were bearing down upon her. "Bones," she hollered, darting behind him into the mouth of the alley and pressing her back hard to the bricks that lined it. Her ears were trained upon his quick and heavy footsteps, but her eyes didn't leave the approaching trio. It had been too long since she was allowed a good fight. Her skin itched with the need to prove herself still capable. "Bones!"

So far, they hadn't done anything illegal... From a wizarding standpoint, anyways, she reckoned. She hadn't even drawn her wand! Surely if they stayed a moment longer nothing would-- "Bones, m'sure those black things are long-range weapons! They're gonna point them at you! You'll bleed right out and I'm not a fucking Healer!" Wand safe in its holster at her side, a small part of her mind jumped ahead, starting its justifications-- jumped Edgar-- baby on the way, two at home already-- no choice-- tried to arrest us for no reason-- excessive force--

Yes, this is definitely a justifiable fight, she decided, rubbing her thumb along the metal in her hand. She hated that she needed them, but she was far too tiny to do much damage without playing dirty. "C'mon, Bones, y'bloody coward! Jam their guns and get back here!"

[a-heart-full-of-fury-blog]

Who released you? Where are you? --A

It was a man…I didn’t care catch his name. He kept staring at my tits. Why do you want to know? My bail was paid. They can’t just take me back. I won’t go back! My trial isn’t until the tenth. -ASC

[temporarilydistracted]

Carrow, don’t be ridiculous. Who do you think pushed to have your bail set at all? Where are you? —A

[a-heart-full-of-fury-blog]

I am not being.. Why should I believe… Where do you want me to meet you? -ASC

[temporarilydistracted]

My parents' house. Bring your things. --A

[a-heart-full-of-fury-blog]

Who released you? Where are you? --A

It was a man…I didn’t care catch his name. He kept staring at my tits. Why do you want to know? My bail was paid. They can’t just take me back. I won’t go back! My trial isn’t until the tenth. -ASC

[temporarilydistracted]

I repeat, where are you? Doubt you are safe. Meet me. —A

[a-heart-full-of-fury-blog]

None of your business. I don’t know what you could possibly want from me now. -ASC

[temporarilydistracted]

Carrow, don't be ridiculous. Who do you think pushed to have your bail set at all? Where are you? --A

[a-heart-full-of-fury-blog]

Who released you? Where are you? --A

It was a man…I didn’t care catch his name. He kept staring at my tits. Why do you want to know? My bail was paid. They can’t just take me back. I won’t go back! My trial isn’t until the tenth. -ASC

[temporarilydistracted]

I repeat, where are you? Doubt you are safe. Meet me. --A