paul mescal for british vogue
Three Goblin Art
noise dept.
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

JVL
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Today's Document
RMH

Kaledo Art

shark vs the universe
One Nice Bug Per Day

oozey mess

titsay
Monterey Bay Aquarium

izzy's playlists!

Product Placement
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
taylor price
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❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
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@thiccachu
paul mescal for british vogue
stargazerwriting:
“I’ve been told I have a swooning effect like that on woman,” Rene remarked in his trademark southern drawl as he caught Felicia. Instinctively his hands went to her arms, keeping her from falling any farther. “But I must say, suga, those words don’t usually acompany it.” He let his lips split into a charming grin. As per usual though, there something more sinister underneath it. “Not so into watching the fight?” he asked as she once again found her balance. “Or perhaps there’s something that holds your interest more?”
Finding the comfort of the arms of the man she had fallen into, Felicia remained still for a little too long. Before regaining her balance, albeit with one heel, she regained composure and turned call girl mode back on. Couldn't let this little mishap blow her cover. "Oh I'm sure you do, darling." She charmed, pushing back the bleach blonde lochs of her wig back behind her shoulders. "I don't swoon that easily, though. Unfortunately I have seem to broke a heel and I am not about to walk bare foot around this...place." The thought alone sending a slight shiver down her spine. "People beating up each other for money isn't really my idea of entertainment. Never been a fan of pain with pleasure." The violence of it all hard to watch without bringing back harsh memories.
musingsofmoments:
“Do mean later as in this evening? Or later overall?” Pim asked, trying not to look guilty in the slightest but also probably not doing the best job. “Because if it’s the latter…I may have booby trapped one of the statues on my first day.” Ethan hadn’t been here yet but he also probably shouldn’t have been surprised. “I’m just going to have fun tonight, I’m home and I have my brother and my friends. Are you on duty?”
Ethan had to give himself a moment to process what he should say. Honest answer - he always enjoyed Pim's tricks and pranks. Logical answer- he hoped to never be caught on the end of any of them. "You didn't say that and I didn't hear it." He replied, keeping himself entirely impartial. "That sounds like a good plan. I'm happy for you. I'm sure it was hard being away from home for so long. I know it was for me." Ethan took the time to make a quick scan, spotting his boyfriend on the other side of the room. "I'm always working in some way. Thomas looks alive. We’re in the clear.”
moonandstarsrps:
“If that’s the case, then there’s no reason to really work with me,” he replied, shaking his head slightly. “Or, at the very least, nothing for me to work with any tutors from back home with,” Samson explained further. “However, if you have interest in any topics, I can do my best to guide you in studying them on your own, but that’s the best I can do,” he admitted. Clearing his throat, he was clearly displeased by this line of conversation. “I’m not interested but I appreciate the sentiment.”
"No - Not really. I only went to school because grandfather insisted I do. He had this idea that I could take over the family business. But then my mom went and married a king. Taking the throne is a hell of a lot more important than running some oil company. Plus - way more glamorous." Jesse was doing it again. Talking about himself on and on again. He couldn't really help it. He was so interesting to talk about. "I think I'll be fine. I have reached the age where I plan on never opening a textbook again." Not that he opened many when he was actually in school. His family paying for half the buildings in the university made for automatic passing grades in all his classes. "Like, at all? Don't you want to feel that happiness again?"
stargazerwriting:
Alaya rolled her eyes at his comments. Her parents being the power hungry ones wasn’t exactly the truth here. But the last thing she needed anyone thinking was that she’d saught out a betrothal with the disasterous crown of New Zealand. Of course, that wasn’t entirely true either. She made it clear she wanted to be Queen, and daddy dearest promised her off to the otherside of the world with a man she didn’t know and couldn’t stand. A cruel but unsurprising joke from a cruel man.
Her spine stiffened when he grabbed her shoulders though. While she couldn’t help but note how soft his lips were, she still let out a groan. “The least you could do is shower before touching me. Or get me drunk first.” Delicately she reached up, grabbing his wrists and gingerly, but firmly, pulling him off her with a frown. Turning away she sauntered back to the wet bar in her room, pouring him three fingers of the finest whiskey she could get in a crystal rocks glass before topping off her own.
Turning back she help it out to him with the perfect smile painted on her lips. “You came here for something,” she pointed out, the hand that had been previously holding his glass now traveling down his chest. “Sit.”
Tegan refused to be king. He made that very clear since he was able to recognize why he was brought into this world. The second his father decided he was the worthless second born and spent his days treating the prince like shit just for not being the perfect poised royal his sister was, he vowed to himself to never abide by his parent's wishes. If they wanted him to take the throne, they should have thought about getting their troubled son some proper help.
"Oh please, wifey, I'm clean. I didn't even get a chance to go into the water until you so desperately called me over." He willingly took the glass and took a sip. Purposefully not downing the whole thing, despite how bad he wanted to. His high tolerance already making the pills Julien gave him dwindle away. He needed something far more strong than just a drink, but was willing to settle for his soon to be wife to fulfill the need for pleasure.
He fell back into the seat happily. Tegan had not realized how hot it was to be ordered around like this. Although, the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. "I came here for you, my wifey." He replied, taking yet another drink from the glass. This one a little larger than the last. "As an avid fan of premarital sex, I thought we could get some practice in before the big day." The day that would never come, that was.
kaylawritesthings:
Freedom was something she was used to. Back home Giselle had her father wrapped around her perfect little finger but here? No, here she had to follow rules and basically die of boredom on a daily basis. But if there was one thing that Giselle could appreciate about being stuck in Thailand it was the fact that the climate reminded her of home. The weather along with the pretty beaches were the only saving grace though sometimes not even those two things were enough to placate the princess. She tried though. A good attitude around the royals that mattered was the goal and the only way she knew how to achieve that other than her coke habit was to relax in her happy place….a place on the beach that was currently occupied.
She knew of Kendall. The giant of Luxembourg rarely made the news but the princess made it a point to research as many of the royals as she could so she knew which ones were good to associate with and Kendall had passed that test. Rolling her eyes gently at the boys words, she took a seat next to the prince and smiled at the waiter who served her the mixed cocktail she’d asked for. “I guess I can understand that sentiment since Luxembourg isn’t a coastal country. The sea is so relaxing.”
When it came to the positives of Kendall being sent away from Luxembourg, the lack of beaches might be at the bottom of the list. The headliner being the fact that his father was no where to be seen. And more importantly, heard. The king's booming loud yells were left to just haunt Kendall's nightmares now. The prince had never really been free like he is now. Every trip he had taken in the past, either his father wasn't very far away, or it was so short lived he could barely enjoy the solace of a parent free day. Those vacations away from home, mostly the one's with Noemi, were the best memories he had. The single thing keeping him from abdicating and getting away from his father for good. Now he was fortunate enough that he didn't have to deal with his dad's control without having to abandon his country.
The princess looked familiar enough that Kendall was sure he had at least met her before. But he couldn't really place her name. No offense to her - since Ken was terrible with names. A pretty large character flaw for a prince to have. "Right - that too." Kendall replied, sitting up slightly, his legs still too long for the lounge chair. "Is it just like one long extended vacation around here - or do we royals actually have to work eventually?"
gracelandwritestoo:
Delilah was playing the good daughter tonight, however begrudgingly, and this wasn’t the worst possible event she could have consented to. At least it wasn’t a fucking fundraiser for her father’s frankly impressive war chest or one of his proteges in the party that she’d long ago turned her back on. New FBI agents had the possibility to be entertaining and the open bar never hurt.
In her efforts to avoid getting sucked into a conversation with her father and his fans, Delilah drifted, never staying in one place for very long. Occasionally she’d catch herself in a reflective surface, a freshly blonde stranger nursing the echo of a guilt-ridden heart and a glass whiskey. Even then, she’d managed to dazzle and along the way fixated on a certain man who she now saw standing at the bar.
“Detective?” Delilah arched a brow, “and here I thought this whole thing was to celebrate y’all being agents, quite a step up if you ask me.” The blonde smiled sweetly and finished off the last swallow of her drink, setting the glass down and leaning a bit closer. “They always cheap out at these things, I’m fairly certain my father brought his own,” the soft lilt of her voice did not match the flicker of annoyance across her eyes. “And if you’d still like to buy me a drink, Agent, I’m sure there are any number of other, more interesting places nearby we could go…”
Clarke didn't have much history in making the first move or flirting all that much. All through college and the academy, he tended to hold himself back. Only falling into, albeit short-lived relationships, by accident. Maybe it was getting the major promotion he had dreamed of getting since he was young or the free drinks already in his system giving him the confidence to put himself out there tonight. Or the fact that he would be a complete fool to let Delilah pass him by. Even if he was batting way out of his league.
"I supposed you're right. Although it's hard to really turn off detective mode. It's way too ingrained in me." He admitted with a laugh. Sort of hating how nerdy he was coming off. "It'll probably take me half a year before I get used to being referred to as Agent." He watched as she finished her drink, still a little surprised she was willing to flirt back with him.
"And you would know about these stronger liquor locations?" Clarke could never tell the difference between expensive and cheap alcohol. Once he started drinking heavily after his injury in the field, it all seemed to blend together. He drank for how it made him feel, not for how it tasted. Not that he was about to let that little issue he was going through right now be known. It was temporary. If Clarke were to be even the slightest bit lucky enough to date Delilah, he would surely have quit by then. "It would be my pleasure. Lead the way."
tangodancerxindie:
It had been a while since Valentyna had written through the night. One of her first nights in Thailand, when she’d been far too warm to sleep properly, she’d stumbled out of bed, the heat in the air, the oppressive thickness to it giving her imagination just the fuel it had needed. She didn’t focus on her main story that night–a break from her frigid home life. Instead, she’d written about air thick with spirits, with the ghosts of the past, and drowning in the history of a place she’d never known. By the time she’d finished, she’d glanced outside, recognizing the baby pink on the horizon–morning. That had been a night of inspiration.
Last night had been grief, shock, anger. A deep set rage that had no other way to let itself out.
Konstantin had always been selfish; she had no qualms about that. She may be one of the youngest of her family, but she didn’t fancy herself a fool. He was someone who cared more about his losses than the losses of those he claimed to love. He was so lost in his own desires that he often didn’t see what was right before him. Unreasonable, even at the best of times, with his own incompetency hanging over his head like a noose. Still, beyond his faults, Kostya had been her brother. He was supposed to be her family. He was still supposed to care about those beyond him, even if it was less than himself. He, who’d she’d gone to for help so often in the past… And he hadn’t even thought to leave his own family a letter.
Shock, when she’d heard he had gone, tasted like the sharp tang of blood in her mouth from biting her tongue, swallowing back a reaction while her heart raced in her chest. Later in the evening, her grief had tasted like the stinging burn of vodka, her own family’s, in her mouth. Like the salt of the tears she’d not been able to hold back. Only for a moment, though… Her anger had looked like red ink, marking up her latest story, furied pen rewriting a scene with the monster of her story. She still felt sick, as she remember her own father’s biting tone from the page she’d written. She’d needed to be scolded for trusting the intentions of a traitor. Perhaps she’d forgotten how little family truly needed to care, at the end of the day.
The morning’s glow wasn’t pink like the last time. Fitting, since that morning felt like some childish daydream. She stood from her little desk, holed away in a corner of her room, and properly stretched for the first time since she’d sat down the night before. Eight long hours, and the relief she got did little to soothe her in the slightest. She rolled her neck, eyes shutting as a sigh left her. Her hands were aching, curling and uncurling at her sides in search of some relief. As her eyes opened, accepting stiffness and discomfort as the new normal for her day, she gazed out of the window. A hazy morning, foggy, with threatening dark clouds on the horizon… Fitting, truly.
Pausing for a moment, she turned on her heel, moving to grab a pack of cigarettes from underneath one of her pillows. Guilt pooled at the pit of her stomach–she’d told her siblings she was cutting herself off, truly, this time. And she’d meant it at the time. The pack was meant to remain buried under that pillow, perhaps to be thrown out by a maid who got too carried away with her room. But it hadn’t been, and now she couldn’t stop her hands from clutching the half-gone pack, lighter found easily in her side drawer. One thing after another, and she was grabbing shoes, heading out of the door, walking, walking faster, eager… Pushing open the doors leading outside. She hardly made it much farther than that.
Stinking of last night’s vodka and sweat, she lit the cigarette, leaning back against the wall, the morning air hitting her. The scent of tobacco, at least, was stronger. The sound of the doors opening after her startled her, and as she glanced over at the intruding person, she lifted the hand with the cigarette in a tired greeting. “–It’s early to be out,” she mentioned, voice gravely as she finally brought the cigarette to her lips.
an open starter for the war of royals verse
It finally felt like Izsak’s life was going in the right direction. He met a boy. A real breathing human who actually found him attractive. The two went on three dates including Halloween. Izsak didn’t take dressing up too seriously. Throwing on some cat ears on to his usual black hoodie and jeans get up. But for the first time in forever, he enjoyed Halloween. He had no worries about the candy and desserts that were lining the tables. He wasn’t in his head about how he looked. All his focus was on Kostya and how happy he made him feel.
It still didn’t feel real that he even knew who he was. Let alone ask to go back to Isak’s room. Which Izsak happily agreed to. He had seen enough rom-coms in his life to know what the third date meant. He liked Kostya. And Kostya liked him back. It was that simple. Izsak wasn’t going to let his anxiety stop him from finally losing the virginity he’d been holding so tightly on. He had built up the moment in his head a million times over. Thought about Cameron and how the plan had been to lose it to him before it was revealed he wasn’t even real. It wasn’t exactly what he thought it would be. Not the perfect romantic night he dreamed about. But it was perfect for what is was.
Waking up to the sun rays rising into his room, the pleasant memories of last night filled his head. Thinking about Kostya’s hands, lips, and much more all over him might have been the best possible way to awake at this too early of an hour. He shifted over, expecting to still see the Belarusian in his bed. Instead the other side was empty. A note sitting in the middle of the pillow. The note was short. Starting simply with the declaration that Kostyra had left the island. It was followed by the additive that it had nothing to do with Izsak and that Kostya did actually like the boy.
He was crushed. Left speechless as he read the letter over and over. He took apart the bed, desperate that there would be some other note saying it was some cruel prank. The denial stage of grief hitting him right on time. Just like it did when he awoke to his leak. Why him? Why is it every time Izsak was happy, the universe found a way to take it away from him? Just when he was starting to feel comfortable again. He should have never put so much hope in a guy. Not when it always ended the same.
Sitting on the floor, whole room torn apart, he skipped past anger and bargaining - straight to depression. Izsak spent the whole day in his room. Not even leaving to eat. Why bother? He sulked in his bed, replaying last night so not to think about the hurtful truth that last night would be the only night he would have with Kostya. But the thought found it’s way of seeping through. Leaving Izsak’s eyes to well up before being buried in the pillow.
As the next morning rose, he thought about remaining in bed all day again. With Cameron, he didn’t leave his room for weeks. But Izsak was stronger now. He had learned to take all the pain in stride. Or at least to try to. He put on a clean pair of sweats and made his way out of his room. Not knowing who knew what about Kostya’s sudden departure, he decided to keep the fact to himself
Making his way outside, the smell of tobacco breezing past him before the warm tropical air could, he shoved his hands in pockets. “Could say the same for you.” He replied. “Then again. I’m not a smoker…Been thinking about picking it up though. Maybe it will make the days go by easier.” The latter sentence mumbled as he turned away,towards the water.
thewritingsofsammy:
—
As the notes Jesse played circled back to their beginning, Eden raised her bow to the strings of her instrument and took the melody. This wasn’t the first time they’d played together, but it was the first time Eden didn’t already know the song. That should’ve made her nervous, but she felt entirely at ease, and it both felt and sounded like they’d played this piece a hundred times before. Eden smiled as Jesse spoke, again feeling that warm and familiar flutter at the sentiments he expressed. He was right, of course, about music under the stars. But between that concept and this exact moment, right now, Eden knew where her bias lay.
"You? Settling? Heaven forbid.” the duchess replied, unable to prevent the hint of a chuckle from slipping through. “It can be our first song, how’s that? Still has a nice ring to it.” Eden let Jesse take the melody for a moment, feeling comfortable enough to improvise around it. “By the way…did you write this? It’s so pretty…” Eden asked, letting her eyes close for a moment while she played.
Jesse was always so kind, so gentle, so playful towards her. And even though he drank up compliments directed his way like they were flutes of the finest champagne, the ones he gave her were never self-serving, never vain, not even when interwoven with charm and flirtation. To those who only knew Jesse on the surface, that might easily have come as a surprise. But it didn’t to Eden. Eden knew the heart beneath the hair, the clothes, the air of confidence, the ‘spoiled, rich, pretty-boy prince’ image which Eden hated to imagine anyone’s opinion stopping at when they looked at Jesse. She knew that some would never bother trying to look any deeper, and if anything, Eden pitied them. They’d never get to know the Jesse she knew—the warmth he exuded, the softness of his eyes, the sense of being home that he made you feel. Or…maybe it was just her that he made feel that way. She couldn’t know for sure. Not without giving herself away, and that…she couldn’t do.
Maybe, just maybe, when the day came that they were finally homeward bound, Eden would reveal her truth to Jesse. It wouldn’t change a thing—of that she was certain—but at least then he would know how special he had been to her; how much happiness and solace his presence and his friendship had brought her. How he’d utterly captivated her, and entirely stolen her heart. For even if she couldn’t yet call what she felt for Jesse 'love’, Eden knew without a doubt that she was heading there. Plummeting, really, and definitely without a parachute. It was only a matter of time. But Eden didn’t want to think about endings or goodbyes, not when it felt like something was just beginning. She didn’t want to think about a single thing outside of this moment, outside of Jesse and their 'first song’. But like all songs, this one couldn’t last forever. As the music moved towards what felt like a natural finish, Eden slowed her tempo alongside him and brought the piece to an end. As she gently lifted her bow away from the strings, she grinned.
“I didn’t realize how much I needed that. Thanks, J.” Eden said, her expression softening as she allowed herself to stand still for a moment—to simply look at him while he was surrounded by hazy, golden morning light. She had so many words to describe what she saw, but forbade herself to speak a single one. Forcing herself out of her reverie, she crossed over to the other side of the piano—giving Jesse’s shoulder a gentle squeeze as she passed behind him—to where her well-worn violin case lay open upon a chair.
“I know we could play music for days, and trust me, I’d love nothing more. But, since I have you to myself for a bit…I have something for you.” she said, laying the instrument down, but not closing the lid. Eden straightened up, turning to face Jesse with a gleam in her eye. “It’s outside…sort of. But, conveniently, that door right over there…” she pointed across the room, “…leads to the gardens.” Eden reached out and grasped Jesse’s arm to coax him up from the bench, nodding her head towards the door. “Come on, piano man, it’ll be here when you get back. It’s not like someone’s gonna smuggle it down the hallway.”
It wasn't very often Jesse played with others. His feelings towards music being his own little safe space - he didn't usually let others join in on. Now playing something to impress someone he had taken back to his place. That was something else entirely. There wasn't much of Jesse's life he could say he achieved without the benefit of his bank account. Living the way he lived his whole life. Everything was handed to him on a silver platter. His talent in playing the piano and his voice on the other hand were something he couldn't buy. He only had himself to thank for it. And for that he was extremely fortunate. Which was maybe why music seemed to be something so precious to him.
With Eden - he had to play along. She was too precious to say no to. And he wouldn't want to. The few times they have played together being at the top of the list of a stacked list of fond memories he had with the duchess. Sometimes it felt as he had known Eden forever. It was hard to think that they had only met just a few months ago. Especially in moments like this. When they were making sweet music together so easily meshing the melodies and working off one another. It was so natural. Unlike anything else. He couldn't help but feel nothing but delighted around Eden. Missing that light feeling when they were apart.
"You're too kind, as always." Not that Jesse was complaining. Eden liked to compliment him, and he liked receiving compliments. It was a win win. "It's just something that seemed to bounce around in my head after we met. You were my muse - I suppose." Not that it was hard for the Duchess. Her natural spirit was inspirational enough for the whole island to fawn over. Jesse was just lucky enough to get a glimpse. "First of many."
Closing the lid over the keys, Jesse examined the wood of the piano, making a mental note to come back and see that this piano made its way back to his room someway. The instrument passing Jesse's very strict test in quality. "It was lovely, wasn't it? You, Eden, are far more talented than you know. Jesse obliged, getting up from the bench and letting Eden wisp him away. No matter what the surprise was, Jesse knew he would love it. It was Eden after all. His best friend. He had yet to find something not to love about her. "Should I cover my eyes? How big of a surprise we talking? You Know I love a gift." He admitted with a slight laugh, placing his hands over his eyes and letting Eden guide him the rest of the way. "Is it shoes? No - don't tell me. But you know I'm a men’s forty four. Just in case it's shoes..."
kaylawritesthings:
“Shit, I knew that arrow was going to go straight through that little heart of yours. I’m so sorry it hurts this much.” He was shaking his head but his grin returned, the teasing in his voice matching Tegan’s own. But his face screwed up into a bit of a grimace at the mention of Tegan’s exploits in rehab, even if he’d managed a laugh as he shook his head. “I don’t think I would call that romantic, man. Desperate maybe? That feels mean I don’t mean it maliciously. Guess I’m trying to say if feels like you were substituting one addiction for another.” Hands sinking into his pockets, Gio ran his eyes down Tegan’s face as he searched for anything that could give away how the prince felt about all of this but the boy seemed pretty straight forward with it all. “Unfortunately for you, sober life is the safest life. I don’t know about anyone else but I just want you to be okay in the long run.” The guard paused before shrugging a shoulder. “But I’m also not here to tell you what to do with your life.”
"...And after everything we built...Didn't think you go so low." Continuing the sarcasm, never taking anything in his life too seriously. On the outside at least. "I'd say I was desperate. Not for the drugs, not for the sex - just for something other than the dreary everyday boredom of life, you know what I mean?" He balanced the line of not revealing too much of himself and not outright lying to the guard. Being vulnerable didn't sit right with the prince. Never did. It made him sicker than the drugs ever could. He rather pretend nothing affected him. That his fourth stint in rehab at twenty five wasn't as pathetic as it sounded. That he wasn't once again a failure for the program not working for him. Despite actually trying this time. "I got you good, didn't I? One dance in between the sheets and I have you worrying about little old me. That is so sweet. But I promise - you got nothing to worry about. I'll be around to torment you for years." He added a wink to really sell his words. But he had to admit, the concern for his wellbeing did oddly feel nice. Tegan needing the reminder that not everyone who knew him hated him.
musingsofmoments:
Ivan had to hold back a laugh at the guard’s words. He could practically smell the nerves coming off the other and knew that what he said probably wasn’t entirely correct. Some would never manage to speak truthfully around him, though Ethan had always had a nervous energy. Ivan had experienced it when he had bumped into the other traipsing the corridors in Russia. “Different good, or bad? And don’t worry, I won’t take offence.”
Ethan knew that at the end of the day - royals were just people. He was close enough with one prince in particular to never doubt that. But that's where the problem was. All the other royals weren't Thomas. So Ethan had no idea what to say to them. He even struggled around Mia from time to time - when there wasn't a THC filled smoke cloud between them. The guard had yet to find a social issue that couldn't be solved by getting stoned. Which was unfortunate for him now. Being he was on the clock, and didn't have the luxury to take the edge off. "I don't think it's good or bad...just different." A non-answer he knew. "It is warmer...But other than that, it's just another palace I suppose."
The Duchess always did love Halloween. She refused to turn down an opportunity to plan out and make an over the top costume. Not when there were plenty of opportunities to be complimented to death. A very nice problem to have. She went with a faerie this year. All out with custom made wings and adorned flowers all over her corset and steep high heels. She made her way into the courtyard, admiring the effort the staff made putting up all the spooky decorations and decking the tables with sweets from every country. Practically buzzing she couldn't really contain her excitement. Finding the nearest person to proclaim her elation. "Your costume is nice and all. But I do think I have the contest in the bag, don't you think?" She beamed, doing a little twirl to show off the outfit properly. "What do you think the prize is?"
jaymewrites:
If her life wasn’t in some kind of upheaval, would it really be her life? It was something Ava had pondered a lot these last few weeks. Her boyfriend- her ex-boyfriend, she reminded herself, had published a book, and at first, she’d been thrilled that he’d fulfilled a longtime dream.
And then… and then she’d read it. Read the details he’d divulged about her, about their life together. He’d changed her name, but it hardly mattered. She’d been asked about it enough times, asked to confirm if certain bits of the story were true, stopped on the street by people she’d known for years who now only wanted to talk about that fucking book. She knew everyone knew who it was really about.
On this particular day, she was hunkered down in her apartment- the only place in town she could get any peace these days, it seemed. And then, predictably, that peace was interrupted by the sound of her buzzer. She got up, setting down her tea mug on the coffee table. Hearing Trevor’s voice through the intercom, she hesitated for a moment before buzzing him in. “The door’s unlocked,” she replied, tone clipped. It was a pattern for them, had been for years- the break up, the reconciling, rinse and repeat, but this time felt different. The idea of seeing him right now had her stomach in tense knots.
Trevor still didn't know how he got to this point. He begged for forgiveness from Ava before. Mostly for having the emotional intelligence and capacity of a goldfish. But that was a given with the kind of upbringing he had. He didn't even know half the shit he said was wrong until Ava or his friends had to explain it to him. But he thought for once he was doing the right thing. After years of only getting a few meaningless short stories published, he had really done it. Done what he dreamed of doing since he was in Ms. Prevetti's fifth grade English class where he fell in love with writing. He actually expressed his feelings. Put every little detail of how much Ava and the people of his small town meant to him. Which he now knew wasn't the right move.
He should have brought more than flowers he realized as he made his way into the apartment. Maybe some sort of liquor could help the two blow this whole novel scenario over easier. And he wasn't exactly in a position to ask Ava if she had any. Standing there, in the apartment he never made an effort to move into after eight years of dating, he never felt so lost. Standing over six and half feet tall, but he never felt smaller in his life. Looking to Ava for forgiveness. Desperate to preserve one of the few things in his life that brought him happiness.
"These are for you." He said holding out the bouquet towards her. "Let me start with..." He didn't finish that sentence right away. Mostly because he wasn't sure where to start. That would involve knowing what exactly what was wrong. "...You didn't like the book, I'll take it." Not the best start, but there wasn't exactly a road map for this kind of conversation. "If it makes you feel better, I think most of twitter is on your side. You're not the only one who thinks I'm a prick." He laughed nervously, not exactly denying the sentiment.
So I say thank you for the music, the songs I’m singing Thanks for all the joy they’re bringing Who can live without it? I ask in all honesty What would life be? Without a song or a dance, what are we? So I say thank you for the music, for giving it to me
@thewritingsofsammy
toosterteeth:
Jessica Nigri turns Barb into a Faerie.
Daria’s Halloween Costume for the event :)
warmandstill:
Todd had really hesitated at the idea of coming to the… what even was this? It wasn’t a reunion, because it was all alumni, not just his year. But, whatever it was, Vixey was the one who’d convinced him to come. It wasn’t that he hated his high school, he really didn’t - it’s just that it really hadn’t been that long since he’d been a student there. The walls were too familiar - he still knew the code to his locker. He’d tested it, in fact. He probably shouldn’t have… it was some kid’s now. Once he checked though, he immediately closed it, not wanting to actually invade some strange teenager’s privacy. They always told the students that the locker combinations changed every year, but now he finally knew they were lying.
Heading back towards where the party was, he let out a sigh, eyes scanning the doors of the classrooms. Mr. Boudeau’s room was still the same, with all the comic book posters plastered across the walls. There were a couple new ones, he noticed - and they had now started to be spread to the bulletin boards outside his classroom, as well.
Todd shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, taking a deep breath in as he approached the gym entrance again. God, he really didn’t want to go back in there, but Vixey was going to get worried if he left for a walk and didn’t come back before too long. He was surprised she hadn’t texted him already, actually - his walk had already gone longer than he thought it would. However, his walking stopped abruptly, the moment the gym doors opened and Copper walked out. He froze, staring at the other man for a moment, the music fading slightly as the doors closed behind Copper, clicking as they sealed.
I was just leaving. Todd frowned, but still didn’t say anything, his hands still in his pockets. He realized he’d forgotten to breathe, so he slowly released the oxygen in his lungs, not wanting to make it obvious how nervous he was to see the other again. He’d never gotten an explanation for what happened - or an apology, frankly. “Oh. That’s good.” He said, somewhat awkwardly, as the other explained that he wasn’t seeing his father anymore. “I’m glad you got out of there.” What else did Copper expect him to say?
Copper wasn't really sure what he expected Todd to say back to that. He didn't have a proper speech prepared. Despite thinking about this inevitable day since the incident went down back in High School. He imagined every possibility. Todd fighting him again. Maybe a little less one sided this time. Todd accepting him and the two finally being able to return to the friendship they formed on the schoolyard twenty years ago. Even thought about the outlandish scenario that they could get over all the drama of Copper being so violently trapped in the closet and become something more than just friends. He thought about that latter option a lot. Despite the fact he knew that could never happened. Todd hated him. He couldn't blame him. What he did was unforgivable and the boy deserved way better than Copper.
"Right...yeah. It's been a process." He was terrified. No matter all the therapy he had been doing. There was no way to prepare for having to apologize while looking at the boy you've had a crush on since you knew what a crush even was. "I saw Vixxy in there." He added awkwardly. Signaling back to the door behind him. "I'm glad you too are still a thing. Uh - I don't really talk to many people from school. We - We were all jerks." He kept bouncing around the point. The words right in front of him, and yet he couldn't get it out.
"Just - before you go back in. I...I don't want to blame it all on my dad. But he really fucked me up. Back then I was a mess - I still am - just less angry." He could feel himself start to panic. Attempting to think of any mental exercise he could use to calm his nerves enough to finish what he had to say. "I was so broken. My dad made me feel worthless and like shit just for being - just for liking you - for being different. So I snapped and took out my frustration on you. Which was so wrong." After all, Todd was the only person to see past the broken and give Copper some friendly company when he needed it most. Suddenly the tightness in his chest began to ease. Copper was able to open his fists, free his fingernails from digging into his skin so badly that it left four indented marks. He was relieved to get the words that were weighing on his chest off finally. "You were always so nice to me. And I was a dick to you. And that's on me. But - I'm sorry for what it's worth. I'm trying to be better. And I wanted to makes sure you know I'm not like that anymore."
Anonymously tell me how you feel about me. I can't reply, I just have to read it and post it.