Wlw Characters - Tumblr Posts
Do you have any Janis headcanons?
yasssss :3 janis so silly :3
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~ janis has multiple stick and poke tattoos in various places, most of which she did herself.
~ she has a lot more piercings than just a septum but doesn’t wear jewelry in them as often (right eyebrow, various ear piercings)
~ she has synesthesia!!! the way she connects her art to her worldview is supa cool
~ most people call her she but she wouldn’t be upset if someone used they or he either
~ she bruises very easily . many bruises on her arms and legs literally all the time
~ she’s the biggest couple hater of all time. she will hate on every happy couple she sees . fetchen are her biggest victims unfortunately
~ she gets a buzzcut the summer before senior year and dyes it with fun patterns . she’s done melting smiley faces, cheetah spots, and purple flowers.
~ she and damian are absolutely goated at fortnite. they match skins and everything
~ her favourite tattoo she has is of a crow . it was very tedious do to herself and she’s really proud of it
~ she is irritatingly good at chemistry. it’s like second nature to her
~ she sketches her friends so often. damian is her top model of course but she likes drawing gretchen and cady too
~ karen put her on to kpop and she will never ever admit that she listens to it. she listens to a lot of dreamcatcher
~ she picks up drumming after junior spring fling and she gretchen and damian entertain the thought of starting a band together
“I--I don’t think you should face me when you do it,” she is so quiet. So pure. So young. So gentle.
“I am so sorry,” my voice and heart shatter. Here she is, hope, telling me how to snuff her out. Home, telling me how to burn her down.
I am sobbing. Again. All over again. My heart scabbing and splitting apart, again and again, and again.
“Lucy…” I am crying, like a child, screaming her name. Shaking her head she presses her forehead into mine, squeezing my hand tighter, and I scream again. Scream. Loud. Screeching. No words. Words have failed me too many times before. I yell, feel the sharp pieces of my broken heart stab me, and I scream.
“Andrea, Andrea please, Andrea there is only one song. Andrea, I love you. Andrea, please. I love you. Please.” she is trying to be kind, trying to speak over my outburst, but I cannot focus.
“I love you,” and she is crying too, murmuring it over and over again against my forehead, and I am crying too, throat sore, voice rasping.
“I am so sorry Lucy. So, so, sorry…”
“I know, Andrea. I know. I am too.”
The music comes back into focus and I too quickly recognize our place, in the music, the timeline, the countdown.
“I’ll do it with you…” a brush of her nose, I whimper.
“I’m sorry,”
“I know,”
A graze of her lips.
“I love you,”
A kiss. A breath.
“I know,”
A few more notes.
“I don’t want to do this,”
A few more breaths.
“I know,”
My other hand is now covering her’s, the one with the dagger. It is warm to the touch, her palm is damp, my breath is shallow.
“I’ll make it quick, I--I'll make sure it doesn't hurt,” My voice cracks, my soul fractures.
“I know,”
I wrap my hand around the hilt gripping it, fighting back vomit. Close my eyes, another tear rolls down, she kisses it away.
“I wanted to keep you safe,”
“I know, you did what you could. I don’t blame you. For anything,”
I open my eyes, I can read a million things in her eyes. Too many things. I am already overflowing, I can’t take anymore, but I do. Because I take it all in. Every emotion on display for me, every emotion I would never get to see again. Because I would put that light out. Stomp on it. Crush it.
“I remember when I played this for you, in the sitting room. I wanted to give you something, something you would remember,”
“I remember,”
My dressing gown has slipped off a shoulder. Her eyes brush over it before she leans in to press a small light kiss on my neck, and goosebumps ignite all over me. She pulls away, her fingers leave mine to brush my hair over one shoulder, and then covers the hand with the blade so she has encased it, one hand under it one hand over mine. I brush my free hand over her knuckles and find my fingers reluctant to lift again.
“I’m going to turn around now,” her voice almost blends into the music. Like she is meant to be there. In it. With it. I do not reply, just look up at her. Her burning eyes. Such fire. Such beauty. Such life. That life that had lit my own. Set me alight. Set me up in flames. Bonfire, no sign of fading. But here we were being doused in water. Turning to smoke and steam. When you are done burning alive, all that is left are the burn marks and scars and the absence of the warmth that once flooded your veins. That once reminded you that you were alive. Her hands leave mine as she moves stiffly and I cross my legs, shifting my aching muscles. As she sits in my lap leaning into me, as I wrap my arms around her and bury myself into the crook of her neck, trying to inhale the universes that exist there, I know that if she is not alive, neither will I be, and I suppose that is the point.
Just like I know I will have to hold her lifeless body in my arms before someone comes to get her and I know that is the point.
Just like I know this robe and these hands will be stained with her blood and that is the point.
Just like I know this song will never be the same for me.
Clair de lune. Moonlight will never be the same for me.
And that is the point.
The point is to tear me apart into so many tiny lifeless pieces, that no amount of happy drenched memories or hopeless love affairs could put me back together.
~Excerpt from the short story ‘Dance With Her’~
“I love you, Andrea,”
“I love you, Lucy. Thank you. Thank you. I am so sorry,”
“I love you,”
“I love you,”
A brush of the pad of her thumb over my knuckles on the hand with the knife and she interlocks the fingers of our free hands.
I hold on to her words. Her promises. Her. I hold on to her.
“Andrea, come now, please. Before the music ends. I would like to go with the sound of something lovely,”
“You were so lovely,”
“Andrea,”
“I love you,”
“I love you,”
She is raising her hand–my hand, to her throat. Mine is closing. I can feel her heartbeat practically trying to escape her chest and mine seizes.
“On the last four notes,”
My hand is shaking those her’s is steady. Lucy. My home. My hope.
“Andrea, my hand may falter but yours cannot,”
I was going to massacre something beautiful.
“I love you Lucy,”
“Andrea,”
“I love you,”
“I love you,”
10 notes. The tears have stopped and I don’t know when that happened.
9 notes. My breath has stopped, and I don’t know when that happened.
8 notes. My world has stopped turning, and I don’t know when that happened.
7 notes. My mind has stopped running in circles, and I don’t know when that happened.
6 notes. Her hair is darker then it was last week and I don’t know when that happened.
5 notes. The soft space between her thumb and forefinger is callused and I don’t know when that happened.
4 notes. The piano player has started at the beginning of the fourth last bar again, and I don’t know when he decided to do that.
16 notes. She is leaning all the way into me. Giving me all her weight. How am I sitting my straight? I don’t know when she did that.
15 notes. “Andrea,”
When did she start using my first name? I don’t know when she did that.
14 notes. Presses the tip of the blade into the left side of her throat with our right hands. Her touch soothes me and riles me, I don’t know when it started doing that.
13 notes.“Our love is intangible, they cannot take it,”
12 notes. I know.
11 notes. I remember
10 notes.When she started doing that.
9 notes. Saying,
8 notes.“I love you,”
7 notes. I will remember
6 notes. When she stopped.
5 notes.“Andrea,”
4 notes.“Now,”
3 notes.“I love you,” I breathe.
2 notes.“Now,”
1 note. Her hand drags. Her weight shifts. She moves. I follow. Just like it has always been.
On gods Chris Rodriguez had the personality of a piece of cardboard and only existed to introduce the fact that Clarisse could be compassionate (And also because I think, at the time, Rick was afraid to write an openly gay character but y’know)
reading the clarisse wiki page and I forgot clarisse and silena got close because silena gave her dating advice for chris afghkjh please say sike
“dating advice” oh u mean DISGUISED FLIRTING
There are not enough people horny for this woman… my god look at her😩✨🫶🏾
