#i spent like two mornings and a good chunk of this evening writing this

[wildemaven]

Sweet Creature: Chapter Six

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

WC: 4511

Warnings: 18+ Blog; mentions of food and drinks, unwanted touching, self doubt, pining, two dumb dumbs navigating fEeLiNgS, reader has a nickname but has zero descriptive features, fluff, like always please let me know if there’s anything I missed.

A/N: This chapter!! I think it’s just been a week for me, dealing with minimal sleep and a teething babe— I was near giving up on it. But, it’s done! Wrote out a good portion of it and then hated it so I rewrote it and then ending up going in a completely different direction— but I like where it ended up going. Thanks again for all the love and kind words on this series!! Only 4 more chapters to go!! Adding: Thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for beta’ing this labor of love and all her support and help as I write this!

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An endless loop of vivid thoughts frequent your weary mind— starting early in the morning and well into the evening. 

Dieter, his stupid handsome face and the way he has you falling for him, your brain in a constant flustered state. 

You keep mulling over the possibilities of allowing yourself to be vulnerable, open to the idea of something growing between you and Dieter. 

Each alternative has its advantages and risks. 

Leaning into your feelings and granting Dieter access to the thing you’ve spent years guarding, trusting that he will stand alongside you as you fully open your heart to a chance at a future together. 

But what if he doesn’t want the same things as you?? You contemplate if settling for just his friendship is enough, never pursuing the growing connection between you, accepting him in your life but always at an arm's length. 

Dieter’s impending departure has you a mess, your growing feelings for him only making it worse. 

“Are you still there sweetheart?” 

“Yeah— Sorry Mom, I’m still here.” You assured her, finishing up the rest of your makeup as you get yourself ready for the Capri Hotel’s big event. 

“You sound so far away. What’s bothering you?” 

“Ugh. I don’t even know where to begin Mom. None of it’s really all that bad, just a lot at once I guess.”

“Well, I’m here to listen if you need to get it off your chest.” 

Moments like these, you wished she lived closer, missing your kitchen conversations at the end of a long day. No matter how depleted she was after work, she made dinner with a smile and sat for as long as you needed her to, her shoulders always carrying the weight of your heart when needed. 

“Just trying to keep it together most days. School has been busy, end of year things have me drained. Then there’s the whole gallery thing, it has me stressed I won’t be ready for the showing. I’ve finally managed to get a chunk of my pieces painted and prepped— I have like 5 more to do. And I’m sad it’s closing, I only have a few classes left there.” You pause for a moment, you hadn’t intended on an emotional dump when you called your Mom, just wanted to check in and say hello. “It’s all good things though, so I don’t even know why it feels overwhelming, I guess I feel like I’m going to let someone down somewhere along the way.”

“Hmm. Well, I know how hard you are on yourself, but I also know how hard you work— especially when it involves all the things you love. You’re going to get through it all! I believe in you.”

Her voice feels like a warm embrace as it drifts through your phone, the stress already feeling like it has lifted a bit with her reassurance. 

“So, how are things with your guy? Any new things on that front?”

“Well, he’s not my guy.” Chuckling at her abruptness. “I feel like we’re in a good place now— he feels like a close friend that I’ve known my whole life. And the more time we spend together, the more I—“

“The more you what?”

“I don’t even know, Mom. Like there’s these things he does, I don’t know if he’s just being nice or what, but he does these little things that make me so happy. He brings me coffee in the mornings when he drops his niece off at school, leaves little notes for me on the cups— I save them Mom, I have a stack of these coffee cups in my kitchen.”

You hear a muffled hum, her signal that she’s already preparing her response to what you have to share, but allowing you to continue. 

“He came to one of my classes, and you know what he did? He painted a portrait of me— who does that?! And now, we text each other all the time and I can’t stop smiling when his name pops up on my phone, because I can’t stop thinking of him. Then he gave me this cute nickname that makes my insides turn to goo any time he says it and I— I…”

“You love him, don’t you?”

“Yeah— I do.”

*

The air is dry, heat waves dancing across the scorching cement, an array of popular songs blaring from the DJ booth situated on the green lawn adjacent to the hotel’s pool deck. 

The re-grand opening celebration of The Capri in full effect. 

The hotel had been drawing in plenty of guests after the renovation, rooms booked out regularly, a quintessential tourist destination for the small town. Its mid-century design of wood, natural tones and pops of color paired with the sleek modern aesthetic throughout the hotel’s property was beginning to be recognized by many publications, all looking to showcase the hotel’s unique style in upcoming pieces. 

The hotel’s name, big white block letter signage, sits atop the covered entryway. A parked yellow Chevy Deluxe adds to the ambiance of the building’s timeless look. 

Giant palm trees and tropical-esque plants in terracotta pots decorate the grounds of the hotel. Small gardens with intimate seating had been strategically placed for optimal usage. A large lawn space in the back was draped in string lighting and had the perfect view of daily sunsets. The pool itself was a perfect backdrop for a day of relaxing, vintage woven lawn chairs and oversized umbrellas lined each side of the large pool surrounded by lush greenery. 

Dieter was able to snag a chair early on, perks of knowing the hotel owner, the umbrella shade blocking enough of the sun to make the extremely warm weather bearable. 

He’s trying his best to enjoy himself, knowing he’s doing Diem a favor keeping an eye on Wren while she’s running around doing her hotel-party hostess duties, but the growing crowd of guests and invitees feel more overwhelming, reminding him of the elaborate Hollywood parties he’s attended. 

Only a few people have stopped to ask for autographs or pictures, slightly surprised there’s still a fan base that has an interest in him these days. 

“How come they don’t want me to sign their papers? I know how to write my name too!” Wren, her voice tinged with a pouty tone, says from where she’s lounging on her chair next to him. 

“I don’t know, Birdie. Next time, you can sign your name too, seems only fair.”

“Okay. I can draw a heart for them too.”

Wren, satisfied with the compromise, goes back to sipping on her iced lemonade and watching one of her shows on her iPad, zero interest in what's going on around her. 

“How’s she doing?” Diem asks as she sits on the edge of the Wren’s chair, placing another lemonade on the small accent table between the two of them. 

“She’s good, wanted to take a break from swimming for a bit. You, umm— hear from Poppy yet?” 

“Why? You finally going to tell her you’ve got it bad for her??” 

Grateful his sunglasses are dark enough to block the eye roll intended for Diem, he glances over to see Wren still absorbed into her show then back to Diem and whispering a low -fuck off- accompanied with a playful middle finger. 

“She texted me a bit ago, said she was running late, but would be here soon— Oh! Speak of the devil, look who just arrived. I’m going to go say hi and I’ll send her over so you can tell her how much you’ve missed her.” Diem’s menacing voice earns her another middle finger from Dieter, leaving him to greet you properly. 

Dieter catches sight of you weaving through the pack of bodies meandering around the pool, taking in how your face lights up the minute you see Diem welcoming you with a hug, both of you embracing each other as if you hadn'tnd just hung out days prior. 

He’s seen you in your casual clothes outside of school before. Usually a pair of favorite jeans and t-shirt, a sundress sprinkled in on warmer days, but something about seeing you in a bathing suit and shorts has his brain short-circuiting almost instantly. 

Tilting his head forward, his pointer finger pulling his sunglasses slowly down the bridge of his nose. He’s completely taken aback, mesmerized by you, noting every little detail—  your captivating features that make him absolutely weak, every delicate curve so perfectly placed, each flaw you try so hard to hide merely a perfect addition to your allurement. 

The second you and Diem turn in his direction, he’s shaken out of his trance, trying to focus on anything to make his blatant staring seem less obvious. 

“I see an open chair next to Dieter, do you think he’ll mind if I hang out with them?” You point to the open space next Dieter, who is helping Wren navigate something on her iPad. 

Unfortunately, as you say it, you notice a beautiful woman sitting in the lounger you were inquiring about. You try your best to keep the tinge of jealousy concealed, the last thing you want is to draw any sort of attention to your feelings for Dieter at this time. 

“Never mind, I’m sure I’ll find somewhere to set my stuff.” There’s a subtle hint of sadness in your eyes, avoiding watching the women openly flirt with him. 

“Babe, you good?” Diem sensing the shift in your demeanor instantly. Peering back at Dieter to see the interaction he’s having with the woman, who now has her hand on his arm, caressing it as she tilts her head and openly ogles him— her fake laugh is a dead give away that she only sees Dieter for his Star Status and nothing more. 

“Yeah— y-yeah, I’m good.” Forcing a somewhat convincing smile. 

“Hey, I’ve got to go check on catering, make sure everything is running on time and then I’m going to grab Wren for her nap— the last thing I need is a 6 year old meltdown. Don’t worry about her, she doesn’t really seem like his type anyways. We’ll catch up in a bit.” Giving you another hug, letting it linger for a minute, then Diem takes off in the direction of the catering truck. 

You’re left standing there, feeling exposed and alone among a sea of strangers. Nervously scanning anywhere but in the direction of where Dieter and the woman are clearly flirting. You contemplate what an appropriate amount of time to spend here would be, before slipping out unnoticed. 

It reminds of you showing up to a middle school dance, dressed in the new fancy dress you picked out for the special occasion in hopes of seeing the cute boy, who’s name you spent most of the school year scribbling in your notebooks. Only to walk into the dimly lit and poorly decorated gymnasium to see he is with the head cheerleader and they’re both making heart eyes at each in the middle of the dance floor. 

Part of you wants to shrink into the shadows of the crowd, ruminate over the signals you read completely wrong this whole time. Dieter was just being nice, friendly— at no fault of his. You blame yourself for thinking he might have some interest in you, reading into the little details and thinking that you were even his type— clearly far from it. 

An up tempo song blasts through the speakers, amping the tone of the party up and pulling you out of your brief moment of sulking. 

Friends. Just friends. Dieter and you are friends and that has to be enough for you. 

You head in the direction of the open bar, hoping an ice cold beverage will help unburden your angsty thoughts. 

“We should hang out sometime!” Dieter cringes at the advances this random woman keeps making towards him. 

If this wasn’t his sisters hotel, he’d probably wouldn’t feel bad in being harsh and telling this woman to fuck right off. But he doesn’t want to cause a scene, not knowing how she would react to his rejection. 

“Umm, I don’t know— I’ve got a lot going on right now.” Let her down easy. 

“Oh come on! You’re not doing anything, you just got out of rehab— and they’ve got you trapped in this boring town too. I’m sure we could find something fun to do together. I know a few parties are happening in WeHo coming up, I can make a few calls— get some treats to liven things up.” Her hand still fondling his arm. 

He winces at her crass comment, a reminder of why he chose to escape the acrimonious world of Hollywood. 

He doesn’t have a single regret about being here in Ojai either, he enjoys its simplicity and is starting to feel like he could see himself here long term. 

“Look, I’m sure you're nice and all— but I’m not interested.” 

“Okay, well we can do something else then. How about we go back to my room, I’m staying here.” Wiggling her hotel key between her fingers. 

She’s clearly not grasping at the obvious hint Dieter is giving her. 

“No, I’m not interested in your room or you.” He says politely, grabbing her hand and removing it from his arm. 

“What do you mean?!”

“He has a girlfriend, lady!” Wren piped up in Dieter’s defense. 

“Wait! You have a kid? And a girlfriend?”

“No— to both things.” 

“God, rehab made you so fucking boring.” She scoffed, offended by his sobriety and his lack of interest in her. 

“Okay, so what we’re not going to do is that, my niece is right here. You can go now.” 

She didn’t hesitate at his request, grabbing her things and walking away— pretending to be unbothered by the rejection. 

“Sorry about that Birdie. Some people are just—“

“Weird!”

“Yeah, weird. Hey, Birdie?”

“Yeah.”

“I know you think Poppy is— she’s not my girlfriend, we’re just friends. So, let’s maybe not call her that anymore okay?” Although, he likes the way the two words mix together in the same sentence. 

He worries it’s going to slip in your presence, he knows wren means no harm by it, but he would hate for you to feel uncomfortable if you ever were to hear her say it. 

“Mhmm.” Her non-committal response earns her a laugh, fully focused on her show like nothing ever happened. 

Dieter takes in the lively atmosphere around him. Laughter emanating from the party guests gathered in small groups around the pool, a carefree crowd dancing throughout the lawn area, smiles plastered on everyone’s faces— he couldn’t be more proud of Diem and all she has accomplished. 

Readjusting the collar of his colorful half buttoned shirt, Dieter settles back into the chair, letting the sun kiss every bit of his exposed skin. 

“How are things going over here?” Diem quietly asked, pulling Dieter from his ruminative thoughts. 

Diem scoots Wren’s listless legs over to allow room for her to sit down, leaning over she grabs the device from her tiny sleepy hands, Wren’s little head nodding as she struggles to keep her drowsy eyes open. 

“No complaints, looks like you had a good turnout. I’m really proud of you Diem, not just all of this,” His hand pointing around to her accomplishments on display in the form of a successfully running hotel and her well executed re-grand opening festivities. “But with Wren too. I’m glad that I got this chance to be with you both.”

“Don’t go getting all sappy on me—“ Her voice wobbly and soft as she beams at his acknowledgment of her dedication to her work and Wren. “Thank you. And I wouldn’t have been able to pull this off without your help.”

Dieter nods, mirroring her heartfelt gratitude. 

“Have you seen Poppy? I saw you both talking earlier.” He hopes he doesn’t sound too desperate, wanting to know your whereabouts, if you’re okay and why you’re not here— with him. 

“She didn’t make it over?” His brows draw together, shaking his head slightly. Her nose wrinkled at the realization of why you hadn’t come over. 

“What?” 

“She saw you and your— little friend earlier, I don’t know for sure, but she seemed somewhat saddened by it. I’m surprised she didn’t come over though.” 

“Shit! I gotta go. You good with her.” He stands abruptly, an unnerving feeling creeping up from his chest, hoping you didn’t mistake what you saw for anything but an awkward fan interaction. 

“Yeah, go. I’m going to go put her down in my office.” Scooping up Wren’s sleeping frame. “Dieter?” 

He turns back to her calling his name, hands flexing at his side, a nervous tick of his, as he waits for what Diem has to add. 

“You should tell her.” 

He’s not sure why it’s so difficult to find someone in a somewhat enclosed area. His eyes scanning every ecstatic face as he sidesteps through conversations anchored in effervescent exuberance, a stark contrast from his growing collection of spiraling thoughts. 

If he could just find you, explain the situation to you in its entirety. 

Explain how he truly feels. 

How you'rer his first thought when he wakes in the morning, the giddy anticipation of seeing how beholden you are as he hands you the coffee he picks up from the bakery Wren and him stop at before school, how he takes in the way you tilt your head just enough to read the ridiculous notes he scribbles on the sides of each cup, “Have a Brewtiful Day!” “Better latte than never.”—each one extracting the most intoxicating laugh. 

How he looks forward to seeing your face light up at his stupid jokes, never once admitting how horrible you think they are. 

How you’re an added reason for him to want to be sober, never wanting to be on the receiving end of your disappointment in him. He wants that rewarding experience of seeing how proud you are of him. 

And how he wants nothing more than to have you in his arms— morning, noon and night, keeping you as close as he possibly can, terrified that you’ll disappear the moment he lets you go. 

His world seems to come to a standstill, everything he had been working up the courage to tell you, drained from his mind instantly. 

Utterly shattered by the sight of you. 

That smile of yours, paired with a full body laugh, directed at the man standing next to you. Your hand holding the top of his oversized bulging bicep as his large hand gently cups your elbow, leaning into each other as you both exchange words. 

A reality he hadn’t even considered in the time he spent looking for you— you being happy with someone who isn’t him. 

Crushed. 

Confused. 

Broken. 

It’s a dizzying sensation. A chance lost— or so he thinks. 

Rubbing his hands against his shorts, removing the evidence of his anxious response to seeing you wrapped up in what looked like an intimate conversation, his head still in a fogged state of shock. 

He manages to will his body to move from where he’s been standing. His jaw ticks anxiously, surrounded by bodies dancing around his blurry peripherals. Releasing a deep sigh, he looks back to you once more, looking for what he hopes is closure. 

Instead, he catches the moment the man you’d been friendly with, gesturing a goodbye as he retreats from the space he’d been sharing with you. 

Dieter watches the way your expression morphs from bright and bubbly to soft and muted the minute you're alone, leaning against the cocktail table with your face tucked into your shoulder, closing yourself off from everything and everyone. 

“Mind if I join you?” Dieter calmly approaches you, still holding on to the single thread of hope that he didn’t lose his chance. 

“Hey! Of course you can.” Your face instantly lights up at the sight of him, patting the open spot on the table, genuinely welcoming him to be with you. 

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything?” 

“What do you mean?” A line appears between your brows, shifting your body to fully face him with one arm still draped over the table top, your fingers casually drawing shapes onto the silky thin table cloth. 

“The guy, I saw you talking to him— looks like he works out, a lot— the man is very hot.” Words fumbling out of his mouth, as he points back in the direction he thinks he saw the muscular guy head in. “I just mean, I don’t want to interrupt if there’s something potentially happening there.”

Your lips pressed together in an attempt to fight off the urge to laugh. 

“What?”

“There was nothing happening there, like at all. That was Dan, he’s a good friend and he comes to classes at the gallery. I’d offer to introduce you two, since you think he’s so hot, but he just got back from his honeymoon— with his equally hot husband. We were just catching up.” 

Dieter winces at your explanation of who the man was, feeling like an idiot for so foolishly assuming you were falling for the guy. 

“Besides, he’s not really my type.” You state boldly with your head cocked to the side, one eye squinting to block the sun rays as you take stock of the way the sunlight tangles in his hair. 

“Where’s your friend from earlier? She was really pretty. You both really seem to be hitting it off earlier.” Keeping your tone neutral, looking down at where your fingers are now pulling at a loose thread on the tablecloth, preparing yourself for how his response is definitely going to wreck you. 

His hand settles next to yours, his fingers nervously tapping onto the hard surface. 

“Actually, I have no clue who she was— didn’t even ask for her name, didn’t want to know it either. Sure, she was pretty and maybe in different circumstances I might have been interested in her… She was pissed though when I turned her down, I actually had to tell her to leave.”

“Really— Why?” Your attention drawn back up to where he’s still studying you, his brown eyes locked with yours, now etched in a glistening golden light from the setting sun. 

He lifted his shoulders in a gentle shrug, taking a deep breath as he looked at you, “She just isn’t who I’m interested in.” 

When you think back to when you were growing up, constantly daydreaming about what it would feel like the moment you realized you were in love, and if it would feel as good to have that same feeling reciprocated back to you, by someone who wholeheartedly felt the same way. 

You decide that this is that moment, and it’s even better than you imagined it would be. 

Dieter’s eyes drift over to the table, his hand slowly inching closer to yours, the light brush of his fingers over the top of your hand is electric, your breath catching as he begins to intertwine his fingers with yours. 

His thumb, tender as it slowly smooths over the ridges of your hand, glancing back to you to make sure that there’s no sign of discomfort in your face— you squeeze your fingers, a silent ‘I’m more than okay with this’. 

A breeze picks up, his hair tousling around as it blows through where you both are standing. You lift your free hand to swipe the hanging curls out of his face, your fingers taking liberty to rake through his downy hair, each curl bouncing back into place. 

“What’s your type then?” It’s menacing the way his husky voice cuts through the steady silence, encouraging you to share with him. 

“Hmm…Tall, funny, sweet, driven, pretty— like really fucking pretty. Also has to answer to Uncle Dude in the presence of a sweet little 6 year old. Know of anyone who might fit that description?”

He nods along as you list off each quality, his eyes lighting up at mentioning good-looking. 

“That’s quite the list.” He quips, your breathy laugh prompting a lopsided grin from him. “So— pretty, huh?”

“Yeah— really fucking pretty.” Your words are drawn out in a sincere manner, noting the way his eyes crinkle a little at the compliment. 

Dieter’s hand nestles at the base of your neck, drawing your body closer to him. His touch potent and satisfying, as he commits to memory the way your skin feels beneath his fingertips, gliding them down your bare spine leaving goosebumps in their wake— his gaze never leaving yours. 

“You’re interested in someone?” The answer seems obvious, but you want to hear it from him. 

“Poppy, you gotta know it’s you—“ He utters earnestly with both of his hands now cupping your cheeks, watching the way your lips part as he leans in closer. “I lo— like you so fucking much Poppy, you’re the only one I’m interested in.”

The way he started to say that he loves you, it feels like you might float away, anchoring your hands on his wrists. Everything tingles in your stomach, he’s so close, his breath fanning over your lips. Your lashes flutter as he slowly angles your face, his nose brushing against yours. 

It’s a whirlwind of energy drifting between both of you, building intensity with each passing second, the finality of the moment bound to be explosive. 

Tiny hairs of his mustache grazing the underside of your nose. The top of his lip begins to settle over yours, it’s pillowy weight slowly meeting your—

*RING RING RING*

“Fuck!” The word vibrates across your upper lip at the vexing sound of Dieter’s phone ringing, offensively interrupting the flow of your almost kiss and urging him to answer it. 

“I swear, if that’s Diem—“ A picture of Diem and Wren lights up the phone screen, his thumb swiping across to accept the call, he stands to his full height as he presses the device to his ear. “Hey, what’s up?… Okay… Yeah…Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute then… Love you too, bye.” Dieter ends the call and shoves his phone back into his pocket. 

The entire phone conversation, his focus remains on you. His free hand never leaves the side of your face, thumb stoking across the warmed apple of your cheek—Your hand still holding on to him, the cadence of his heart-rate is rapid against your palm. 

“Diem?” 

“Yeah, she said Wren wanted to go home. She has to stay for another hour or two, make sure things close out here before she can head home.” He explains, zero annoyance detected in his face. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah, I’m perfect.” You say  softly, an airy smile spreading across your face. “What do we do now?”

Dieter takes in your question, so many answers floating around in his mind, but none of them feel sufficient enough at this moment, wanting to properly share everything he’s been feeling without being rushed or interrupted. 

He leans back into your space, his lips pressing a chaste kiss between your brows before resting his forehead against yours. 

“We’ll figure it out as we go.”

Next

[shuttershocky]

"accidentally"??

So in highschool, once a year they would make us go to these retreat places for a few days (all Catholic retreat places, but since we were a public school the activities were more about palanca writing and group bonding instead of praying).

Our third year retreat went rather disastrously due to the property damage (and more) wreaked by a couple hundred bored and hormonal teenagers made to sleep in one place for three days while talking about their feelings. It was so bad that our school and everyone in it got banned for life from the place—there were broken doors, a broken toilet, someone somehow managed to steal a whole mattress, underwear was stolen, and some monster of a highschooler managed to create the scariest thing ive ever seen in a bathroom: the poopsnake (but this is another story for another time)

So in our senior year, they went for a place that had a whole lot of little houses so the students wouldn't all be gathered into such large groups, and the houses with the more mischievous students (like yours truly) would have to stay with a teacher for a chaperone, and an Actually Responsible student, just to be sure.

Now the teacher assigned to stay at the same house as me and my friends was our physics teacher, an educator of incredible restraint and unlimited patience, honed by the endless hours they spent trying to teach dumbasses like me how magnets worked. They had also been assigned to chaperone my friends and me in our third year and we actually didn't get into any trouble at all unlike the rest of our classmates, so they probably thought chaperoning almost the exact same set of kids was going to be no problem.

However, my third year retreat had only been uneventful because I had nothing prepared. For the fourth year retreat, my friends and I bought a sari-sari store's worth of satchets of Milo and Tang for reasons I don't even remember anymore (I don't even like Milo really). We had so many powdered drinks we could barely fit them into the empty suitcase I brought.

Anyway, once it was nighttime and lights out was enforced, my friend and I got bored and decided to play a game called Don't Wake Up A, where A was the responsible student assigned with us in our house. They and our physics teacher were both sleeping in two beds up on the indoor balcony, while the rest of us slept on mattresses in the first floor. The goal of the game was to throw a sachet from the first floor up into the balcony, and get as many as you could as close to A as possible without waking them up (which we assumed actually hitting them with the tossed sachets would do). Once we'd run out of sachets we would sneak upstairs and tally the Milos vs the Tangs, only counting the ones that landed close enough to A to have risked waking them up. If we actually woke up A though, then well... We'd be in trouble.

Amazingly we did this for a good chunk of the night without making too much noise, and we actually ran out of sachets to throw. When we snuck up the balcony though, I was in for a shock.

My aim was both a little too good, and yet completely off target. I had been throwing all my Milo at the wrong bed assuming A was in it. Instead, our physics teacher had been buried under sachets of Milo, but had not woken up at all.

This meant two things: 1) my friend won by default, and 2) we were fucked. We picked up all the sachets that we could and brought them back downstairs, but we couldn't do anything about the Milo our teacher was still happily snoozing under, since if they woke up from us picking Milo sachets off their face there would be no explaining that.

So a few hours later (morning), our teacher woke up with Milo sachets all over them, their bed, and their luggage. Needless to say, they were very confused, but with like 10+ kids in the same house and seemingly no one with any knowledge of how that could have happened, they weren't going to bother worrying about it.

A though, A gave me the stern glare of "I know what you fucking did I just don't know how to even begin explaining this and what could possibly have compelled you to do this" look. Ultimately there was no property damage or even harm done so there was nothing really I could actually get in trouble for, it was just really, really fucking weird and nonsensical.

Even I don't know why my friend and I suddenly decided to start tossing powdered drinks up a balcony. We were simply compelled to be annoying.

[sapphic-haymaker]

man this morning im so sad that Limbus is a gacha, obviously i'd prefer that to it not existing at all. and i do not fault project moon at all for the decision. This industry sucks and gacha is the safe way of securing funding. It makes sense for an indie studio of 20 whole people.

but sitting here, having spent all my saved up gacha resources since launch on an attempt on the New Shiny Toy and not having got it, It's snapped me out of the honeymoon phase a little. I love this game, i love this world, i love the writing, i love the characters.

But getting a big reminder of how Gacha is fundamentally predatory and that this will likely happen again hurts. I played a ton of a Gacha before getting into ProjMoon's games and god was LCorp and Ruina back to back such breaths of fresh air. Two completed, finished pieces of art that quickly rose to be some of my favorite games of all time. I'm pretty sure i fell off of Gacha due to those games completely hooking me.

and I want more! Project Moon makes incredible stuff! I wanna support these people and their art. But even if Limbus is much more generous and skirts a good chunk of icky gacha stuff, it still is one at the end of the day. So now i'm faced with the choice of: don't get to experience more of the media i've fallen in love with, or be subjected to the inherently manipulative practices of live-service games.

I'm going with the latter, obviously. Limbus is still a very good game and i want to support Project Moon. But it's definitely going to sting a tiny bit knowing that the game will never be as good as it could've been if it was a complete product like their previous two entries.

[shadowetienne]

Reflecting on seeing OnlyOneOf for Things I Can't Say LOve tour stop in San Francisco (2024/05/03)

I meant to type this up sooner, but I've had several hectic weeks (leading up to going down to SF to see OnlyOneOf and since). Mostly good hectic, but hectic nonetheless. It was incredible getting to see OnlyOneOf again though, and I want to write up the experience before it fades in my memory.

This was a much less whirlwind trip than last year (where we drove down the night before and back up the next day), but it was still an adventure. We started very early in the morning on Wednesday, May 1st, with @redeim and his partner picking me up around 6 am just north of Seattle, and then us going to pick up another friend who was roadtripping down to CA with us to see relatives but not to see the concert. We had two drivers this time (Redeim and his partner) which was already an improvement on last trip. Redeim was coming off a knee and ankle injury, which will come up again, but was a bit of an impediment. The trip was, as expected, long. We didn't actually make it to where we were staying (with Redeim's partner's family over across the Bay from SF) until something like 1 am. I did knit an entire cowl on the trip down though, and it was nice to get to see a lot of the trip in daylight this time. Thursday (all day) and Friday (morning) were spent visiting with people we know in the Bay Area.

We went up fairly early for when we needed to be there for VVIP check in, but not absolutely as early as we could have (here we are before we headed out: https://shadowetienne.tumblr.com/post/749535185571315712). It was easy enough getting in and getting checked in, getting our lanyards for VVIP and our premium snapshot tickets. We didn't take that long in and out which was nice because Redeim's partner hadn't gotten VVIP so was waiting for us outside while we did the check in. We then went to get caffeinated beverages and some food (and a silver sharpie from the art store a few blocks down because we'd forgotten ours in Washington and we wanted to have it for people to be able to sign the flag).

But soon enough, we were back to the venue area, and during the time we'd done our little wander, the lines had started to properly gather (even though it was technically early for the VVIP line to have started to form). We wandered the VVIP+ line side for a while trying to get as many signatures on the flag and getting a fair number of freebies in exchange. There were also a good number of people with GA tickets around who we were able to get a chance to sign the flag. But after a bit of this, people were herded into the VVIP line for not blocking the sidewalk reasons. Redeim and I were still getting a pretty steady stream of people to sign the flag because we had it out and people were wandering along the line with freebies, or walking around if they were in VIP or GA and didn't have a line up area yet. At some point in here we got the delightful chance to see @jungwookjins and @tolkpopfan who swung by to sign the flag and say hi! (Standing in line and getting the flag signed: https://shadowetienne.tumblr.com/post/749535784683667456)

We also got to chat with the people around us in line, and as always lyOns are delightful. I got so many compliments on my outfit, and so many people who remembered me/us from last year. Handed out a few of the little pride flags that we'd brought for people who didn't have lightsticks (or just wanted a pride flag). There was a lot of commiseration about how much of a menace Rie can be (was last year, and it turns out would continue to be this year).

Eventually, after a good long while of waiting, it was VVIP's turn to go in for fansign. I liked the set up for this better than last year because where we were queued up let us watch the members for a while before we actually went up to get the posters signed. I got to watch the tail end of the fanchat before they took the chairs away, and then a chunk of VVIP that came before us. Some fun observations from that time: Nine continues to move constantly in his seat. I was very entertained watching him kicking his heels together with his feet resting on the cross bar of his chair and just being incredibly wiggly. Junji was very very smiley, and he seemed to be really enjoying being there. Also his hair was so good. KB projects the most of all of them in terms of being able to hear his voice when I was standing in line. I definitely spent most of this time watching Rie though (I suspect no one is shocked). He looked incredible, and I was so curious how the interactions would go this time.

At last, it was our turn to go up for the fansign. I believe it went Yoojung, Mill, Junji, Rie, Nine, KB, but the middle could be out of order there. Yoojung and Mill were both quick for me, they signed, they said thank you/love you, it wasn't a big interaction. Junji did a repeat of last year's interaction a little bit. He looked up at me, gave two thumbs up and said "shirt!" with a big smile again, and then said "thank you for coming again." At this point, I suspected that he might remember me from last year, or at least my shirt. Rie was, unsurprisingly but somehow still surprisingly, a menace. He looked up, definitely remembered me because the first thing out of his mouth was "thank you for coming back bestie" (he kept using bestie, it was somehow very charming). I told him he was my favorite, and he said, "I love you," and at this point he's trying to be handed Redeim's poster and I'm only freaking out a little bit. I got passed along to the rest of the members to sign, but I've got to tell you, I don't remember as much about what they did because Rie had just done his Rie thing.

This is where Redeim being in the process of recovering from an injury comes back into play. He was using a cane, and after the fansign, they were going to herd us down into a room downstairs for waiting until the high touch and group photo, down the steep stairs in an old building. One of the staff noticed Redeim using the cane, asked if he was OK with the stairs, and then herded us over into ADA (I was like "can I stay with him" which they were chill about). This was the first bit of venue weirdness, and it turned out ADA wasn't very well placed. It was sort of off to a side and too far back, especially for a standing venue. People sitting in ADA were going to have a very hard time seeing the stage. We had to wait for a while, and they ended up having the ADA area folks all go up together for the group photos (because they forgot to tell us how they wanted us to join the line until it was getting into VIP, and there were a mix of VVIP+, VVIP, and VIP folks in the ADA section at this point). This did mean that I got to watch most of the high touch and group photo process from over at the ADA section. They are so sweet and friendly and good at fan interaction. They're very clearly happy to see all the fans!

When we got to do our high touch and group photo it went pretty fast, I did get to confirm that the shoes that I wore this time made me about Junji's height, which was fun. Mill only startled a tiny bit at my tiny hands this time. Rie continued to be a menace. Got a smirk and a hand squeeze again this year. Then for the group photo, I was standing behind in a sort of in between way Rie and Nine, which was nice (hopefully group photo turns out OK, haven't seen it yet).

Then it was back to ADA to wait for a bit while stuff got set up and it was time for them to start letting people in. It ended up being a standing only venue other than the ADA section because they'd closed off the balcony (Redeim's partner had originally been expecting to sit up in the balcony for GA). I'd decided that I was going to go stand as close as I could to be able to get the flag up to the stage, but Redeim also decided that he would come stand up there with me, so once VVIP started coming in, we made our way up to stand as close as we could (they gave us little stickers that meant that we had in and out options for ADA). Redeim's partner got a great photo of us while we were standing waiting for things to start because he was just a little behind us: https://shadowetienne.tumblr.com/post/749583294468849664

I'm tall enough that I could see the stage quite well (or well, as well as I can see anything), Redeim was struggling a little bit more, and would at a point end up going back to ADA for a while, and then standing a bit further back with his partner while I stayed as far forward as I could. This is wild for me because with any other crowd, there would be absolutely no way I'd be comfortable standing away from my people. I generally feel really comfortable around lyOns though, and so many people had recognized me from last year, and had said nice things about my outfit. As we were settling in waiting for the show to actually start, we passed out all the rest of our little pride flags to people who had been standing with Redeim's partner in GA or who were clustered near us and didn't have something to wave. It was lovely how excited people were about them.

Eventually the concert started, and all my focus was on the stage. OnlyOneOf are incredible performers. I couldn't tell you the set order, or exactly what they performed off the top of my head for the most part (Redeim has videos), but every single stage was so good. I was definitely the most focused on watching Rie, but all of them had pretty good coverage of the stage when they were doing talking bits or songs that didn't have choreo and they wandered around. There were some moments that stood out to me a lot because of who I was watching: so many cute JunRie moments sort of scattered through out. Rie was having trouble with either his microphone or something on his outfit, and during one of the first ments, he and Junji sort of dropped back to the back of the stage and Junji helped him fix it. There were several hugs scattered through. The entire wonderful nonsense of Junji doing the challenge dance with the belt, and KB stealing Yoojung's belt for him to do it with, and Rie joining in on the choreo (and then KB also joining in and being very silly). And the ui medley stage, which was incredible. We didn't get one of the most exciting JunRie endings of the entire tour so far, but they made hearts together and then walked off holding hands which was sweet. But then after the ui medley, we got the treat of all of the members messing around trying to show Nine and Mill that they could clearly do the ending choreo of beyOnd better.

As we were approaching the end of the show, I got the flag out and was holding it up at times (I was trying not to block anyone's view, but I wanted to make sure that the guys got a chance to see it in the audience). Flag definitely got a few of their attention! I got reactions (pointing to it with a big smile, hand hearts, some combination there of) from everyone but Mill (he didn't make it over in the area during one of the times it was more visible). I also may have hidden behind the flag a little bit when they sprayed us with water because I did not entirely enjoy that sensory experience. I actually tried to send the flag up at two different points, but the first one ended up coming back to me because for some reason it didn't keep getting passed forward, but after another flag had gone up successfully, I managed to send the flag up on stage: https://shadowetienne.tumblr.com/post/749535481042272256

Mill is the one who ended up with the flag, and it was around his shoulders for a good long while. I wish that they'd gotten more chance to look at all the messages that people left for them, but I'm glad that it made it up on stage and all the members interacted with it at least a little. They had to send all the things back into the audience this year (sadly, we really wanted to have the flag be a gift to them). Redeim and I are plotting ways that we might be able to get it to them as a gift if they come back next year/in the future.

I already talked about the premium snapshot experience (and my confirmation that both Rie and Junji remembered me from last year) here: https://shadowetienne.tumblr.com/post/749574999788109824/got-premium-snapshots-with-both-rie-and-junji-it

It had started drizzling a little bit by the time I got out of the venue, but we were able to make our bus and train connections back to where we'd parked just fine, and then back to where we were staying. I'd originally been hoping to go into SF the next day for a bit, but between weather (pouring rain) and being exhausted, we ended up having a rest day, and then we drove back up on Sunday (again leaving very early). Got home just before midnight, and I'm definitely still just rotating the experience in my mind.

I hope they are able to come back again next year, and maybe also come to Seattle next year (though I'm going to be so very very tempted to try to see them at multiple stops if I can manage it). They are so incredible, and while I think that last year is still my very favorite concert I've ever been to, this year was amazing, minor venue issues and all.

Also, I'm just going to be reeling for a while over Rie and Junji both remembering me. I'm not sure how I feel about being perceived, but overall it was a nice feeling, they seemed so happy that people were coming back to see them again. Also Rie is an absolute menace and flirt, but it's charming.

[casualbluebirdmentality]

do YOU hate Uther Pendragon?

do YOU wish Arthur had gone through with his attempted regicide in S2E8?

...then good news! i wrote a 700-smth word one-shot about Just That!

If you wanna hear me rant about the bonkers way this one-shot came to be, that's down here lol

(...Well, I guess it's not really that bonkers, but to me, it was just such a random little thing that spiraled into something really weirdly motivational, so I think I need to yell the story into the void to process lmao)

Ok so-- yesterday morning, I saw this post in the merlin subreddit (which I'd practically just joined):

And there weren't any in the comments at the time that I saw it, so I responded with this:

Which was quite insane of me for two (2) reasons.

Firstly, it's bc I write a lot privately, but I've never actually posted anything, and it's never been fanfic, but... idk man i just hate Uther. (What more does it take, really, to make someone leap into the unknown and submit themself to the mercy of the internet at large, than to just hate a fictional man So So Much?)

Anyway the second reason is that I tend to over-analyze/labor over every sentence I write, and edit it to death WHILE writing it, so I take so long to write literally anything. But, I wrote this shit:

First thing in the morning (and un-medicated, at that)

In 2-3 hours, a large chunk of which was spent transcribing the entire og fight scene (all dialogue and actions, every notable sword swing) from the moment Arthur first says "I know… what you did to my mother" and Uther orders the other knights to leave the room, to Arthur finally being talked down and gasping out an "Oh lord... I'm sorry" after collapsing to the floor-- all of which was just over a thousand words, even in the most bare-bones, script-ish language. (I only ended up using ~100 of those words as the lead-in to the fic lmao)

And then people liked it?!?!?!?!?

Don't get me wrong, it's not some magnum opus or anything, but like... Idk y'all it just absolutely made me day. I'd been pretty down on myself recently about my writing abilities (and other things lmao) but this made me feel SO much better, like-- damn, maybe this could work out as a career eventually if I ever finish my wips lol, rip. And it was so nice to just write something short without over-analyzing/-editing constantly that I'm DEFINITELY gonna continue doing/posting one-shots like that, which is also really good bc it gives me something more manageable to work on so I can get writing practice in more regularly. Idk y'all I'm just having a great time rn!!!

[goonlalagoon]

Somewhere different, something new || SpiritTea

I know I wanted somewhere that would be different to the city, thought Sen through a daze, but I wasn't quite expecting this.

This was the charming if remote village of Yokae, which she had rolled into two days before in the dead of night - that unfortunate pre-dawn stage where it wasn't even just late or middle of the night but edging towards being simply very early the next morning, and she'd spent most of the walk through town half listening to Miko's patter and mostly thinking oh spirits how little sleep am I going to have to meet all my new neighbours on??

It was a small, sleepy village; a little run down in places but overall very...quaint. Picturesque. Just what she'd been looking for: somewhere without the distractions of the city, and without the price tag of a city apartment to go with it. She could deal with living in an old fashioned house for the amount she was paying for it, even if it was going to take some getting used to, and the walk from one end of the village to the other if she wanted a cup of coffee was probably good for her all things considered. The silence was probably the hardest thing to adjust to, as she tossed and turned and tried to get used to sleeping on a futon. In the city there was always noise - the roar of traffic outside, even at night, the blare of sirens in the distance or too-loud chatter of people meandering home in varying levels of inebriation. In Yokae, the only sound was the creak of the roof in the wind and the rustle of leaves, the occasional chirping of an insect. When a fox barked in the distance Sen found herself sitting up, heart racing, as she tried to place where she was.

It had turned out to be a good thing she'd braced herself for handling introductions while bleary eyed, because there was a strong implication that if she didn't meet them all on the first day there was going to be Some Kind Of Problem. And in a place with apparently only twenty-five residents - twenty-seven if you included the dogs, which she did - she really, really didn't want to be known as “the rude one”. She knew what reputation city-folk often had in places like this, and was determined not to fall into it. With a population this small, making a bad impression on anyone would surely get spread around, and before she knew it everyone would be side-eying her and muttering about how she was anti-social and didn't fit in.

That would come anyway, she was sure, once she was out of her writing rut and head down in a project and forgetting that things like eating and shopping and sleeping and going outside were needed. Sen would need all the good feeling she could get when the inevitable flow of inspiration caught her, so that no one would take it personally and might even knock on her door occasionally to check she was in fact alive.

So: Yokae, initially, seemed about what she was expecting.

Then came the floating cat, which she was definitely blaming on the local tea. But the idea that it was a hallucination was - well. It was appealing, but she honestly wasn't sure how this would be what her brain came up with. And she had, absolutely, seen a rice ball float up into the air and vanish in chunks as though something was eating it just the day before. 

Working theory seemed to be that the floating cat was, in fact, real, and that she was, in fact, somehow becoming responsible for running a bathouse. Another point in favour of the cat being real was the pile of towels it had floated into and sent crashing to the ground, because that seemed like the kind of thing a floating cat would definitely do and it wasn't like she'd imagined the towels for it to be a hallucination. She could pick them up and feel the rough texture, and she was pretty sure she couldn't imagine that so convincingly.

So: Yokae, on examination, a little different to original expectations.

Sen scurried to and fro as ordered, carving chunks out of a regrowing root to fuel the boiler and alternating between washing and drying towels, leading spirits over to the steaming tub and trying desperately to work out which ones would be offended by sitting next to each other. Because apparently this was her life now.

So much for free of distractions.

[randoofan0m]

something happened today and i just needed to get it out.

TW: death, mention of suicide and car crash

i live in an isolated place. its small, no more than 20,000 people, and quiet and an everybody-knows-everybody type of community. last night a junior in high school die in a car accident with his mom in the car who did manage to survive.

i didnt know this kid, but i know he played basketball and was on 3 teams, him mom was well-known and apart of a local native tribe. he has a little sister in kindergarten and a brother who's only a freshman.

he passed around 10 o'clock last night on November 14th and everyone found out as early as 6am this morning.

i found out and spent a good chunk of my morning sobbing, but i never knew this kid except in passing and i feel like an intruder. he was my cousins' friend and a close family member to another one of my friends. he was well know and a good guy.

almost half of the high school was dismissed but they didn't let kids go home by driving themselves and didn't want any of them to be home alone resulting in carpooling and kids staying over at each other's house which was a good call i believe.

his mothers tribe is hosting a bonfire for him that'll go on for 24 hours and the high school has, since this morning, hosted an area for their teachers and students to talk and write letters to his family. i want to go and write but i feel like an intruder.

i didnt know him like my cousin did, or the basketball team, or his family. i want to say things to him but i don't know anything but his name.

stories on instagram and facebook and whatever are being shared and posted and for once im glad I've been off of those platforms for a while.

this is terrifying. i dont drive as everything is within walking distance, but my cousin starts driving in a few months and so many kids i know will start soon too. we're support to be a "safe" place. nothing big is supposed to happen here, its supposed to be a paradise and a place that only is active in the summer. im scared to go down where he died and im scared to the store his parents own.

i want to write a letter to him, to his family, but im so scared of what to say. i don't know what to say.

two people dead in 1 year in this isolated community. they were not even 6 months apart. a teacher who killed herself and a student who died in an accident and a friend of one of my friend's mom drank himself to death last night as well.

its scary and i hate this so much.

he was not even 18.

ive heard so much and i cannot stop thinking about him. he seemed like such a good kid with such a good family. im glad the school is doing everything they can to help with the memorials and reaching out to the families. im so grateful for the local tribe for honoring him.

i wish this never happened and o could make everybody feel better bur i cant. i wish i could stop crying but i cant.

rest in peace, W.S. and if there is an afterlife i hope you're with the people you love and are well cared for.

[cactuswaterscactusfields]

Routines

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: no beta we die like graves, this is another one-shot you hecks. Angst, fluff, memories, nostalgia, PTSD and referenced mental health struggles. Canon-typical violence, stabbing, descriptions of blood and injury.

I wanted to write something along the vein of To Me, You’re All I Am since I loved the relationship between Soap and Ghost. This is another one-shot, so you don’t need to read the other fic to read this. 

OR

Soap and Ghost are sharing an evening and Ghost gets distracted by memories. Soap brings him back to the present, back to Simon.

Crossposted here on ao3

–

Warm tea, milk, the slightest sprinkling of sugar. That’s how Simon takes his tea. Soap’s had it burned into his memory since the moment they set down the last box in their new apartment, the first morning they woke up next to each other to the sound of birdsong instead of gunshots. Every morning, Simon wakes up at 0600 and drinks 1.5 cups of London fog tea, and finishes the last bit with his lunch, which is always a ham-and-cheese sandwich with chips. Always a pattern, always the same routine with Simon.

Simon is a man of routines. When he’s Ghost rather than Mr. Simon Riley-MacTavish, he wakes up at 0400 and takes a cold shower, before hitting the gym. If it’s Monday, Wednesday, or Friday, he works his cardio and close-quarters-combat techniques. Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays, he lifts. Sundays, he instead goes on a four-mile run as his rest day. After working out for exactly 1.5 hours, he goes to the mess hall and eats two scoops of scrambled eggs and his classic London fog, a single cup without sugar. 

Soap has spent their entire relationship watching Ghost’s routines. He has them memorized so well he could probably follow them in his sleep. And yet, he still barely knows Ghost. There are times he can’t tell if he’s speaking to his husband or to a masked supersoldier who just buried a knife into someone’s jugular. 

Tonight is one of those nights, Soap thinks to himself. He and Ghost are sitting on their couch, donated to them by Laswell after her wife decided that they did not want it anymore. Something about wanting an open concept and window wall, she had said. There’s some reality tv program playing on the TV, but Soap stopped listening a while ago. He can see Simon’s hands twitching, and for a moment, he wonders who he’s staring at. He can’t tell, sometimes. Not now, especially. Simon is asleep, but his hands are vice-gripped around a rifle that isn’t there.

Shit.

–

Blood, fire, smoke, a massive explosion. Ghost dodges around a chunk of rubble flying toward him from the heli that Price just dropped with a well-placed RPG shot, and lets off a few bullets into a sniper watching him. He has eyes for that sort of thing.

Where the hell is Soap?

He hasn’t seen his idiot since their transport crashed, since they were separated. Price was the first to speak to him over the comms, asking if he was alive, asking where Gaz was, asking if Soap had survived the fall. 

No clue, sir. That was his answer. He doesn’t fucking know. He knows nothing beyond the fact that they’re in a hot zone taking effective fire, and he needs to find Johnny.

“C-Captain?” Gaz’s voice crackles over the comm.

Good to know those two lovebugs are at least alive. Ghost has seen the way that Price and Gaz look at each other, has seen the way they speak to each other. Sometimes, he sees that same look in Soap’s eyes, in his own reflection of the soul orbs that the scot ogles him with. He just wishes he knew if Soap was alive. If Johnny was alive.

He turns the corner around a crumbling building, dodging behind a concrete wall, and his nose is burning with the smoke. He has a mask, but fuckall good it’s doing, and the air is thick with debris. 

“Gaz. Where are you?” Price’s voice is rough. 

“A-At a church, I think.” “That’s the rendezvous point. Ghost, meet us there. Try to find Soap if you can.” 

If you can. 

Ghost’s blood runs cold, as he twists around a pillar, taking a shot or two at a nearby Al Qatala operative. Why the hell did they fly here, anyway? Al Mazrah is a hellzone, and they have more important investigations than here in this desert shithole. And thanks to this stupid damn assignment, Soap’s MIA and possibly KIA. 

His chest is rising and falling, hard. He looks down at the rifled stained with blood and dirt in his hands, sees the cuts, bruises, and scrapes marring his black turtleneck, effortlessly ripping holes through the thin fabric to expose the wounds underneath. If he and Soap make it out of this, Johnny will chew him the hell out for ruining the sweater that Soap just fixed.

Sorry, love.

Actions have consequences, that’s always what he’s said. If Johnny was here now, Ghost just knows that the scot would be scratching away at that phrase like a cat. What actions led us to this? What actions are we suffering the consequences of? Tell me, L.T., tell me why. Ghost knows he’d be half joking, knows he’d just be doing it to bother the manchester native, and yet, what Ghost would give to be bothered right now.

He jumps over a half-wall made of concrete and immediately wishes he could go back to this morning when Soap woke him up with a kiss, tea, and a rush of dopamine. The only rush Ghost is getting now is adrenaline, as he takes in the scene before him.

Soap is out-fucking-cold. His mic is smashed on the ground next to him, and an AQ operative is standing over him, rifle to the scot’s forehead.

What happens next is a blur. Ghost practically teleports over to the hostile, burying a knife into his chest, and twisting until he’s sure the already-slumped man is very dead. No one touches his Johnny and lives to see another day. He rips the knife out, before stabbing him again and again and again, in the throat, in the heart, in the stomach, again and again and again, until his hardshell is smeared with blood, his arms tinged scarlet, the knife dulled from impacting flesh and bone. 

He’s shaking.

He slowly drops the body, before stepping over it and crouching down next to his husband.

Johnny, why don’t shrimp share?

They’re a little shellfish.

 He can imagine it now, the Scottish accent ringing in his ears like a warm summer evening as he laughs, finishing the joke.

Soap should be telling him that. Soap should be awake. Soap should be alive. And yet, Ghost isn’t sure of any of those things. Will Johnny ever wake up, will he ever–

–

“Steamin’ Jesus, Simon. Wake up!” Soap is gripping Simon’s shoulders, shaking the asleep veteran. 

That was a mistake. 

Ghost’s eyes immediately flick open and snap onto Johnny’s face, before he shoves the scot onto the ground, pinning him with a forearm to the throat. That’s another one of Ghost’s routines. If you wake him up abruptly, he responds by immobilizing you as quickly as he fucking can. Simon hasn’t woken that way in a while, but..apparently, he still struggles with it.

“Steamin’ Jesus, Si, please. Stop.” Soap desperately pushes Ghost off, and Ghost slowly stands up, hands flexing, before he collapses back onto the couch. Soap quickly follows, sitting down next to him, and he gently takes the Brit’s hand.

“Where were you?” Soap asks gently.

“Al Mazrah. After the crash.” Soap nods. He remembers the crash, waking up afterward with a very bloodied and very angry Ghost over him. He was worried he’d never see Simon again, only this hard-shelled phantom.

He begins twisting the wedding band on Ghost’s finger, staring at the way the gunmetal catches the light. Ghost was never good about keeping delicate things intact, so he elected to have a classic metal band while Soap went for an intricately patterned band inlaid with some kind of blue metal he forgets the name of from time to time.

“Ghost, tell me five things you can see.”

Ghost exhales heavily. A grounding technique. Of course.

“The tv, your hands, your stupid mohawk, this couch, your dog tags.”

“Good. Give me four things you can hear.” Ghost sighs again and stretches, curling into Soap quietly.

“Your voice. The cars outside. The hum of the fan. My voice.” “That’s good. Where are you?” Soap watches Simon, and he runs his hand through the manchester native’s blonde hair, tracing his finger along a particular scar across Si’s face. He’s always loved that scar. Even though Simon hates it, and hates to see it, the way he got it is one of Soap’s favorite memories. He had slipped and sliced his face while doing a knife trick at their wedding. Even though he was freaked out about it, the stupidity of the whole situation de-stressed the grooms, and they were able to laugh about it later on.

“Somewhere safe. With someone I love. Someone alive.”

That’s one more routine of Simon’s. He tells Soap he loves him whenever he gets the chance. He reminds himself whenever he can of Soap–no, of Johnny’s life. Their lives are too short for Simon to forget what really matters to him.

“I love you too.”

–

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this, especially since I wrote it in a couple hours.

[snowdice]

Big Bang Editing Story [Day 109]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story years ago, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag ‘proofread stories.’ I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51

Not going to do this for much today, but I want to finish the chapter.

Chapter 52 (Mr. Deknis)

It was Jeffers Deknis’s second busiest time of year right after the fall harvest. However, unlike the fall harvest, not all of his workers were yet at the castle. The winter had been harsh and while the last snowfall had been a month ago, many of his workers whose families lived far from the castle had sent word they would be late arriving for various reasons. A few were dealing with sick relatives and others had to help fix things broken by storms for their families before making the trek. One who lived in the mountains up north was still snowed in.

So, he was dealing with only about 70% of his usual staff, meaning he was even busier than he usually was in the spring.

However, despite how busy he was, he didn’t mind taking a bit of time out of his schedule to help plant a little plot of land he’d reserved for a special selection of plants.

Virgil has spent a lot of time deciding on what plant he wanted to grow in the plot Jerffers had given him. He’d combed through multiple books even though it quickly became clear he couldn’t read well and talked to Jeffers about his options extensively before finally coming to a decision.

He’d decided on a flower called Zygopetalum maculatum which was a type of orchid. It wouldn’t be an easy flower to grow considering they didn’t naturally have the right climate for it, but with a bit of magical fertilizer and ruins in the ground near them, it was feasible.

Since Virgil had chosen his flower, Jeffers had dedicated a bit of his time each day to explaining what they needed to do for it to grow and had set him up with the correct materials. Virgil had spent a good chunk of the last two weeks outside on his marked off plot of land doing as instructed to get the soil in the right condition.

Sometimes Logan and Patton joined him and sometimes he was alone, but he was clearly dedicated to his task. Jeffers had stopped by and tested the soil the day before and found it was adequately prepared for planting Virgil’s flowers and had told the boy as much.

Despite being already very busy, Jeffers had allowed for an hour out of his schedule to help Virgil plant his flowers this afternoon.

Even though Jeffers had told him exactly where in his schedule he’d made time for it, Virgil had come early.

Very early.

He’d stalked Jeffers’ footsteps all day. If the boy were a cat, Jeffers would have assumed he’d accidentally left a slice of meat in his back pocket after breakfast.

Jeffers ended up letting him help with a few other things in the morning which he seemed to enjoy. He seemed to appreciate planting things even if they weren’t his flowers. He was also good at it if a bit slower than necessary in his caution to make sure he didn’t mess anything up.

Jeffers ended up sending Patton to get an extra packed lunch from Helen for Virgil (as people didn’t like when the gardeners tracked mud into the dinning hall) and they ended up eating while sitting on the base of the fountain by the plot of land Virgil had been tending to.

The water in the fountain was now flowing, having recently been cleaned and turned on and birds were chirping in the distance. It was a nice, calming environment. This was why Jeffers liked to spend so much time outside. Or at least, it was one of the reasons.

There was a soft meow from beside them that drew Jeffers’ attention. Jeffers looked down to see one of the castle’s many cats standing on its hind legs with one of its paws on the fountain’s base. It was staring at them expectantly. Jeffers recognized the yellow stripped cat as one of the friendlier ones that Patton had tamed as a kitten. It meowed again when it saw him looking.

“What?” Jeffers asked it, raising one eyebrow. “I know you’re not starving.”

It meowed again in complaint. Then it turned to Virgil. Virgil was instantly tearing off a bit of his chicken sandwich to feed to the cat.

“You don’t need to feed him,” Jeffers said. “Patton takes care of that plenty well.”

Despite what Jeffers had said, the cat gobbled up the piece of chicken Virgil had fed him like he was starving.

“It’s Buttercup,” Virgil informed Jeffers. The name vaguely rang a bell.

“You remember all of Patton’s names for them?” Jeffers asked, honestly impressed. There were so many cats.

Virgil nodded and ripped off another piece of chicken. The cat went flying at it with gusto.

“Keep some for yourself too,” Jeffers said. “You look less fed than the cats.” Thankfully he was looking more fed than he had at the beginning of winter.

“But he’s hungry,” Virgil replied with a frown.

“He’s a glutton is what he is,” Jeffers said. “He’s already had his lunch by now I’d imagine and is more than free to hunt down rodents in the barn if he needs a snack.”

Virgil frowned and gave the cat another piece of chicken.

“You’re too good of a kid,” Jeffers said with an eyeroll.

Virgil just frowned at him and took a bite of his sandwich for himself this time.

“Make sure to eat extra dinner if you’re going to feed the cats your lunch,” Jeffers said. “Though I’m sure Helen will be feeding you extra by default when she hears you’ve been helping me in the garden all day.”

“I’m fine,” Virgil said, stubbornly. He took another bite of his sandwich and fed another to the cat.

Jeffers considered him. ‘Fine,’ was a very vague word and his powers didn’t ping on it as a lie because it could mean a variety of things. He had a feeling Virgil knew that.

Jeffers wasn’t a fool. The kids had been talking around his powers about something all summer, though he couldn’t figure out what exactly it was about. Virgil was almost as good at it as Logan. Maybe he was even better.

“Not hungry enough to eat the entire sandwich by yourself then?” Jeffers asked.

Instead of replying verbally, Virgil just shrugged. Clever little bastard.

Jeffers sighed. Helen had packed some of the canned peaches in their lunches, so Jeffers pulled his out and set the container next to the boy. Virgil looked at the offering in surprise.

“Cats don’t eat peaches,” he cautioned. “It’s bad for their digestion.”

“I don’t need to take your food,” Virgil said with a frown.

“Yeah, you do,” said Jeffers. “I’m and old man, not a growing boy. You should eat them.”

Virgil frowned and looked like he was about to argue.

“Eat your lunch so we can plant your flowers kid,” Jeffers huffed.

Virgil hesitated, but the idea of getting to plant his flowers seemed to trump his desire to argue with Jeffers about lunch and he picked up the dish of peaches.

Jeffers went about finishing what was left of his lunch as Virgil continued to eat his own. The cat ran off when it noticed there was no more meat available.

Jeffers rolled his eyes. The thing was probably running off to go scam more people out of their lunch. Patton had spoiled them far too much and they were too good at making cute starving expressions.

“Alright,” Jeffers said once they were done. “Are you ready to plant your orchids.”

Virgil nodded eagerly and Jeffers packed away their trash before getting up.

“Good,” Jeffers said. “You have all of the supplies I told you we needed gathered?”

Virgil nodded and started to list off everything that Jeffers had said.

“Then, we can get started planting,” Jeffers said with a smile.

  Chapter 53 (Virgil)

Virgil and Mr. Deknis took their time planting the orchids. Virgil had done everything Mr. Deknis had instructed him to do with the plot of land prior to planting. He’d had Mr. Deknis write it all down, so Logan could read him the instructions each morning, and had dutifully followed each step. The sheet of paper was in Virgil’s pocket even now. He knew the words so well at this point that he could have recited each list item even if it had words he still couldn’t read.

It had been hard work getting the soil just right for the flowers he wanted to plant, but it was fun hard work. Working hard was different when he didn’t have to do something but wanted to do something. He’d also noticed it was easier to do physical labor when he wasn’t hungry, something he hadn’t been all winter in the castle.

He’d thought since he hadn’t been training as much as usual over the winter months that he’d be weaker when Spring came, but he actually felt stronger and had much more energy.

He’d also grown taller without realizing it thanks to Logan’s nutrition potion. He’d noticed when he’d been in the shed earlier. When he’d first hid in the shed upon arriving at the castle the previous fall, he’d been able to walk under all of the hanging tools in the back. Today, he’d hit his head on some of the them.

His body had changed a lot in the past few months. It made planting with Mr. Deknis much easier.

Virgil had already helped Mr. Deknis with planting some vegetables this Spring, but he still was careful to pay attention as the gardener showed him how to plant the first few orchid bulbs.

Then, Virgil was handed the container of bulbs for himself to try planting. Mr. Deknis watched him plant the first few orchids and Virgil glanced up for approval before moving on each time. He always got a nod and small smile.

Eventually, Mr. Deknis took a few bulbs himself to the opposite end of the patch of soil and started planting some himself, trusting Virgil to plant his portion of the flowers right without supervision. Virgil couldn’t help but be happy about the show of trust given to him.

“Good job,” Mr. Deknis said after the two of them had planted two rows of orchids. “You’ve got an eye for planting things.”

“Thanks,” Virgil said bashfully.

“How old are you again?”

“I’m 14,” Virgil said, unsure why he was asking.

Mr. Deknis nodded. “Maybe in a few years you’ll want to get a job as one of the gardeners here,” he said. “I could always use one who knows how to respect plants like you and with how much you’ve been volunteering to help already, you’ll know a good amount by then.”

“Really?” Virgil asked.

Mr. Deknis nodded.

“Why not now?”

“You’re only 14,” Mr. Deknis said. “You don’t need to worry about working. I’m happy to let you tag along and watch or even help a bit with planting when you want, but you should just be a kid.”

That confused Virgil. He’d been considered out of training to be an assassin as soon as he’d turned 14-years-old last fall. Now he was being told he needed to wait a few years to help plant seeds?

“I could do it,” Virgil said.

“I know you could,” Mr. Deknis said, “but you don’t need to. Have a little fun this summer.”

“But I want to,” Virgil said.

Mr. Deknis huffed out a laugh. “I know,” he said, “and you can feel free to care for your orchids and help me out all you want, but no jobs until you’re at least 16.”

“It’s better than any other jobs I’ve had,” Virgil muttered, honestly annoyed he couldn’t become a gardener right now because of his age.

Mr. Deknis raised an eyebrow. “And what other jobs have you had?”

Virgil froze. That was not a good line of questioning. “Uh…” Virgil said and Mr. Deknis’s expression was changing in an alarming way. “Different things. I’ve carried things for people and, uh, cleaned.”

“Carried things and cleaned, huh?” Mr. Desknis said. It felt like he wasn’t only testing Virgil’s words for lies but observing his face and posture too.

Virgil should be good at lying. He should. That was a major part of being an assassin, but Virgil had started to slip after spending so long around people who were not a danger to him.

At least not a danger to him as long as he didn’t get caught in a lie.

He’d been sloppy with the way he’d frozen when asked a question and with the stuttering. He should have been prepared; he was prepared for the next question.

“You only had to carry things and clean some things up?” Mr. Deknis asked, his eyebrows still raised.

Virgil carefully smoothed out his face, forcing his shoulder to relax as he shrugged. “And some other things,” he said easily. Not a lie. He could feel his heart race anyway.

Mr. Deknis’s eyes bored into him for a long moment and then he titled his head to the side and squinted at him.

Virgil just shot him a small smile. “Can we finish planting the flowers, please?” he asked politely. “I was very excited about it and would like to finish it today.”

Mr. Deknis did not reply for a long moment, and Virgil was careful to keep his expression blank.

Finally, the gardener relented, breaking his stare. If this was because he believed Virgil or not was unclear.

“Yeah, kid,” he said slowly. “Let’s finish planting your flowers.”

Virgil nodded, and he didn’t have to lie as much now as cautious eagerness returned to him. He really did want to finish planting his flowers in addition to stopping Mr. Deknis from asking uncomfortable questions about where Virgil had come from.

Mr. Deknis nodded to the bag of bulbs. They went back to work planting the flowers, but Virgil could feel Mr. Deknis’s eyes on him almost constantly. He had a feeling that this time, he wasn’t watching for how well Virgil was planting the bulbs, but something else.

Virgil was careful to not let his mask slip at all the entire time.

When they were finished planting Virgil’s entire plot of land, they cleaned up the equipment and stored it back away in the garden shed.

Another day Virgil might have stayed and helped Mr. Deknis with other things. Today he was still trying to cover for his bad lying earlier, however, so, Virgil decided to just go back to the castle and shower.

To his surprise Mr. Deknis also started walking off in the direction of the castle.

“Don’t you have more planting to do?” Virgil asked when they got to the door. He knew the man was very busy and his workday was only a bit more than half over.

“I do,” Mr. Deknis confirmed, “but I needed to talk to the king about something first.”

“Oh,” Virgil said. “Okay. I’m going to go shower.”

Mr. Deknis nodded. “I’ll see you sometime later then,” he said.

“Thank you for helping me plant the orchids.”

Mr. Deknis smiled slightly at that. “Anytime, kid.”

  Chapter 54 (Patton)

“I still can’t believe he’s allowing this,” King Thomas said from next to Patton. The two of them were standing at the edge of the arena outside the horse stable, watching from a safe distance.

“If he hadn’t tried to bite me earlier, I’d think he was a different horse,” Patton agreed.

“He doesn’t even let Logan ride him,” the king said. “At least not ride him and give him directions.”

Patton was very aware of that. Logan did on occasion choose to get up onto Mr. Apple’s saddle. However, Mr. Apples was always the once who got to decide where they went after that. Logan had no say.

 With that in mind, Patton, Logan, and every stable hand who’d heard about the prospective riding lessons had tried to convince Virgil to learn to ride on a different horse. Virgil was just as stubborn as Mr. Apples however and had insisted. Logan, being the only one who could be around Mr. Apples without risk had become his defacto tutor.

Not even Logan could have expected that within a week, Virgil would be able to control Mr. Apples. Though perhaps ‘control’ was the wrong word. Nothing could control Mr. Apples, but for some reason, Mr. Apples seemed willing to do as Virgil asked.

 Even right now Mr. Apples was trotting around the training arena like he was a well-trained trick horse warming up with its rider.

“Logan told him we could go on an actual ride today if the lesson went well,” Patton told the king. The lesson seemed to be just getting over because Logan said something to Virgil and Virgil started to climb off. Mr. Apples was patient and still as he dismounted.

“Do you think he’d mind if I went with you?” King Thomas asked.

Patton shrugged. “Mr. Apples might.”

“Mr. Apples definitely will,” the king replied. “I’ll come anyway.”

 Logan had walked over to where Patton and the king were standing while Virgil fed Mr. Apples some apple pieces as a reward.

“I hear you are going to go riding today,” king Thomas said.

Logan nodded. “Mr. Apples seems to listen to him well enough,” he said.

“I might join you if that’s alright. Where are you kids going?” the king asked.

“I was thinking the main forest path,” Logan replied. “It’s not a particularly difficult route, but it’s also a part of the castle grounds Virgil hasn’t been able to see yet. Loraine told me it has been recently cleared after the winter.”

 “That sounds like a good idea,” the king said. “Are you going now?”

“Once Patton and I saddle up our horses,” Logan said. “You can come.”

“Great,” the king said with a smile. “I’ll ask for Bella’s saddle to be brought out. I haven’t gone on a ride yet this week.”

He turned then to walk towards the stables leaving Patton and Logan alone.

“Do you think he’s been acting weird?” Logan asked, turning towards Patton.

Patton frowned. “No,” he said. “Not really.”

“I’m just wondering why he wants to go horseback riding with us.”

“He likes spending time with you?” Patton guessed.

 “Yes,” Logan said, “but typically in a setting that doesn’t involve Mr. Apples.”

Well, that was fair.

“I mean, it’s not too weird,” Patton said, thinking back through the last couple of days. King Thomas had been a bit… clingy.

“He’s been hanging around a lot,” Logan said, echoing Patton’s thoughts with narrowed eyes. He glanced back at Virgil. “You don’t think Virgil let something slip, do you?”

“He didn’t say anything,” Patton said. “I think your dad would say something if he let slip he was an assassin somehow.”

“Unless he let slip something that didn’t quite implicate himself but invited suspicion.”

 “Your dad doesn’t seem suspicious,” Patton said. At least, Patton didn’t think he did. He hadn’t been acting mean in any way. In fact, he might have even been acting nicer.

Logan frowned. “We should keep an eye on him, especially around Virgil.”

Patton bit his lip.

“What?” Logan asked.

“Are we ever going to tell your dad about Virgil?” he asked.

Logan hesitated. “I don’t…” he trailed. “I’m not sure.”

“It just feels weird lying for so long,” Patton said. Patton didn’t lie a lot. Sure, maybe he’d pretend to not know what Mama was talking about when sweets went missing from the kitchens or he’d pretend to not know what Logan’s birthday gift was, but he’d never lied about anything serious before now.

 “I know, but,” Logan glanced back at Virgil once again, “even if we did decide to tell, we’d have to convince Virgil everything would be alright beforehand. I don’t think we’re at that point yet. He was terrified of Father until a few months ago, and he’s still cautious around him sometimes.”

Logan was right, of course. Virgil was getting more and more comfortable around the king, but he figured any of the progress made would go down the drain as soon as they brought up telling King Thomas about where exactly Virgil had come from. Patton didn’t know if Virgil would ever be comfortable enough.

 “We should go get our own horses,” Logan suggested, and Patton nodded.

Patton and Logan’s horses had already been saddled by the stable hands in anticipation of their ride and it didn’t take long for the king to saddle his own horse, Bella.

The forest path at this time of year was very pretty, Patton thought. The tree branches now had small green leaves on them after having been barren for the entire winter and flowers were starting to grow. In a few weeks’ time it would be even prettier, but it would also be harder for the groundskeeper to maintain as well as it was right now.

 Virgil really did seem less anxious around King Thomas now. The path was only wide enough for two horses to go at once, and he didn’t seem to mind that he and the king ended up next to each other while Patton and Logan lagged behind. In fact, he and the king seemed to be having a nice conversation about the local wildlife.

However, if Patton looked close enough, he did sort of see what Logan meant. Virgil may not be anxious talking to the king now, but the king himself seemed just a little bit nervous at least at the beginning of the ride.

 He seemed to relax a bit as they rode (even laughing when Mr. Apples tried to bite him when he got too close).

Logan had been teaching Virgil the basics about things like animals, but there was still a pretty big gap in his education when it came to anything that wasn’t about training to fight and kill. King Thomas seemed more than willing to answer any of his questions when it came to the animals and plants around them even if they were sometimes a bit silly.

He’d seen a bird that looked like a dove. (It may have even been a dove, but Patton hadn’t seen it.) This had been a source of endless confusion for him.

 “But shouldn’t it live in the dovecote?” Virgil asked.

“Not all birds live in a dovecote,” the king explained again.

“But it’s a dove,” Virgil said with a frown.

“Not all doves live in a dovecote,” the king replied.

“But it’s a dovecote,” Virgil argued. “It’s for the doves.”

“Yes, but there are also wild doves,” the king said.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Virgil replied.

“What about it doesn’t make sense?” the king asked with a laugh in his tone.

“Doves go in the dovecote,” Virgil said.

Patton was starting to have trouble following this argument.

“Dovecotes are made for doves,” the king said, “but not all doves go in dovecotes.”

“Why?”

[whentherewerebicycles]

all right friends 10 updates from the trenches:

still mostly off tumblr but am allowing myself to browse a bit in the evening, as you do

i have submitted 12 job applications and have heard nothing but i am trying not to freak out it’s not even been a full week for some of them and i am sure people took time off for the 4th!

today i spent literally 12 hours working on the same letter. i started getting concerned that i wasn’t tailoring the letters enough so i tried doing more but then it was so long i was having to restructure other parts of the letter and then i was making it worse so i ditched six hours of work and started over again. kill me!! it was not a good use of my time but i think the reason it was so hard was because i was trying to teach myself a new skill (tailoring) by doing it on the fly without much forethought or preparation, and so i was experiencing the frustration of learning on top of just being more braindead than usual after so much job stuff. i am sincerely hoping it will be easier tomorrow.

but also i need to get better at actually breaking the spell of hyperfocus good lord. i set a million alarms and try to make myself get up to walk across the room so i can shake off the trance but my ability to tunnel-vision into a task even if i’m not working efficiently and need to STOP is insane. the gravitational pull is so strong that i get up, do whatever distraction task i’ve set for myself, and then am immediately drawn back into the original task’s orbit for another six hours.

in writing today’s letter i found a way to weave in a nice thing my friend nicole once said to me about my teaching that i think about a lot. i am not sure the letter needed it (i am under NO illusions that i understand what cover letters need!!) it but it was nice to think about her saying it & then also nice to write a slightly more earnest paragraph about Values instead of all the Professional Woman Applying for a Job Stuff. also nice to think about teaching! the other day i made a joke about how i can’t write anything short about teaching without accidentally writing the entire book that lives inside of me and one of my beloved former students messaged me to be like ‘please please please write a teaching book i want to read it 🥺.’ VERY SWEET!!! TEACHING IS A GOOD THING IN A WORLD FULL OF BAD THINGS!!!!

michelle tested positive for covid this morning after i spent a big chunk of yesterday morning with her. this is my fourth ‘very close contact’ in the past month and i haven’t gotten it from any of the others which probably means my luck is about to run out. i hope i don’t get sick but also an enforced break from job stuff might not be the worst idea. i felt fine most of today, insofar as i was aware of my body at all in the strange trance state i entered, but i am feeling a little rundown now (though possibly that’s just the power of suggestion).

i have a student meeting tomorrow that i can’t forget about for a kid who is doing the coolest/most ambitious project and has just been steadily plugging away at it for a solid 10 months now. she’s getting REALLY close now and it’s very exciting to see!!

since i have to shower and make myself presentable tomorrow anyway i’m going to make myself do this annoying two-minute video for one of the job applications. if it weren’t a job i would be super psyched about getting i would skip it but alas.

i had such a lovely pre-4th of july cookout with my friends and we discussed plans for a big celebration of our ten years in texas at the end of the summer. it made me emotional!! my beloved humans!!! i don’t know if i’ll still be living here or not (my In a Perfect World plan is to move at the beginning of august) but i will obviously return for it if not. i feel lucky to have had this really solid group of friends here who i have known for so long and love so much. emotions!!!

i had a long phone call with one of my college bffs yesterday about some heavy stuff going on in her life. she has made A Big Traumatic Life Change recently which it is causing her a lot of grief, but also, even in the immediate wake of the Big Change she sounded more like herself than she has in a year. i have been pretty worried for her for a long time now, more acutely in the past six months or so, and i feel hopeful that this is going to be a good thing in the long run. also we discussed how clarifying the long beautiful wedding weekend last month was for both of us, in different but not dissimilar ways. and i think that’s interesting! like it was powerful enough as an emotional experience to prompt both of us to independently make huge changes that are going to change the trajectories of our lives. most weddings do not have that effect on me lol but it was just one of those experiences where the two people getting married are quite simply the best people you know, and they’ve woven around themselves this dense web of deeply meaningful relationships with so many different kinds of people, and we all just got to be immersed in all of that love and goodwill and positive feeling for like four full days, and it was just the kind of emotional experience that makes you say aloud to yourself afterwards: wow, i’m ready to change my life and i’m strong enough to do it.

[blackheath505]

[M4F] Rural Slice of Life Romance

Hi! My name is Finger and today I made a plot that I’d really like to roleplay, it’s quite basic although still good! It’s mostly just like slice of life type stuff in a rural type setting and everything. The pairing is MxF with me being the male. The main characters that we’ll be playing is Thomas Sawyer and Arabella Anderson; most of the backstory for Thomas is there, but Arabella’s, except for the appearance, is left blank for the other muse to fill in as they wish.

I’d really love to do this plot, I’m looking for something long term and someone semi-literate to literate, as that is what I am myself. I’m also 16, so I want someone in my general age range as well, that would be much preferred!! I writing around 3 paragraphs per post, although it can fluctuate depending on the scene. But anyways, here is the plot! I’m begging anyone, pleaseeee!!

June 16th, 2024

School’s out for the summer in Richmond, Virginia, which sixteen year old Thomas “Tommy” Sawyer would normally be happy about, although not this year, especially not this year. The main reason for that is because he had to pack up his belongings and leave his childhood home to move in with his mother’s family down in rural Ross County, Texas. He hadn’t ever seen his mother’s side of the family before, and if it was his choice he wouldn’t be going down there, but thanks to his Dad, Charles for going to prison, Tommy had to go. Tommy’s mother had passed years earlier in 2019 due to her many health problems. After her death, the family was broken; Charles became an alcoholic, Tommy had to take an entire semester off of school and almost failed 6th grade had it not been for the pandemic.

The way Tommy would get to Texas was by his uncle, Leroy, who had driven all the way from Ross County, Texas to Richmond, Virginia. It was a twenty hour drive just to Richmond, but Leroy hadn’t minded at all, arriving on the evening of the 16th, picking Tommy up and then heading straight back down to Texas. The first few hours were awkward; he hadn’t ever met his uncle until that day, but by the time they made their first stop for the night in Tennessee, they had already gotten to talking. Tommy had learned that Leroy was a cow farmer(if the Ford F-150 truck wasn’t already a sign) owning a good chunk of land in Ross County for his cattle to graze on. He also learned the names of Tommy’s four children and wife. The wife’s name was Sarah, the oldest child who was 19 years old was named Elizabeth, the third oldest was 16 years old and named John, the 2nd youngest was 13 and named Cindy, and the youngest was 10 and named Frank. “The Martin Family,” Leroy had referred to them multiple times, as his last name was Martin, so it was only fitting.

By the time the two reached Ross County, late into the night on the 17th, almost the 18th. The Martin’s lived far out, even from the only town in the county, called Ferris. There was no internet or cell service out at the Martin’s house, only a landline phone. Their house was surprisingly more modern than Tommy had expected, it was a two story home with four bedrooms and three bathrooms, and most things in the house surprisingly were modern, like the tv and washing machine and dryer and such. Elizabeth was off to college in Austin, so Tommy got her room, which had all of her stuff cleaned out and all that was in there now was a bed, a dresser, a nightstand and a tv. Tommy was a bit on edge the first night, the realization setting in that this is where he’d be from now on, at least for the near future. His phone was practically useless, having no way to contact his friends or anything from it.

The first few days were spent getting Tommy accustomed to everything, the morning after he arrived at the house he met everyone, who were all pretty kind, all of them but Frank knowing why Tommy moved down here. Each night, at seven o’clock on the dot, sometimes a little later, the family would have dinner at the family table, something the young man was definitely not accustomed to but didn’t mind at all. On Friday of that week, everyone would pile into Leroy’s truck and head into town, to go eat at the local restaurant, Bell’s. There, Tommy would meet a lot of the locals there; it wasn’t too many people but he definitely couldn’t remember everyone’s names. The day after, Tommy was first put to work, working with John and Leroy on the farm. It was hard work, and he wasn’t sure about it at first, but later on he’d eventually find enjoyment in working.

On Sunday June 23rd, almost a week after arriving in Ross County, the family would pile into the truck once again and head back into town to attend church. Afterwards, outside of the church, he’d meet a girl; Arabella Anderson, a girl his age with long, beautiful black hair and green eyes that seemed to mirror Tommy’s eyes, though not his dirty blonde hair. There, Arabella would make small talk with Tommy, where they would find out that their farms were relatively close to each other, leading to Arabella giving Tommy her number…

[orubyru]

Salmon in Schools!

Hey yall! I hope your internships have been as fun as mine. I’ve been having a blast over at Sound Salmon Solutions, an RFEG (Regional Fisheries Enhancement Group) in Mukilteo, as an Education Intern. Every Wednesday, I get up at 5am (yeeesh), make my breakfast and lunch, and leave the house at 6am to drive to our Mukilteo office. Once I get to the office, I usually have a bit of time to do some water quality checks on our home salmon tank (pH, ammonia, nitrite, and nitrate levels) and then I meet with the education team (and Faith, the other PoE intern, shout out Faith!) to go over the day. We visit one school a day, sometimes going to multiple classrooms. SSS’ Salmon in Schools programs provides the schools with a salmon tank & 100 eggs, and then over the course of a couple months the students get to watch the eggs grow to alevin, then fry, then they get to release the fry in a local stream. I even got to deliver some– I carefully transported these chum eggs from the Stillaguamish tribe hatchery all the way to an elementary school's tank.

 It’s an amazing process that engages and involves Washington schoolchildren directly in measures to protect and promote salmon populations. SSS has three main lessons that they teach: Lesson 1 focuses on the salmon life stages, Lesson 2 is comprised of an outdoor game where kids get to BE salmon and dodge different predators and other dangers like dam turbines, and Lesson 3 focuses on environmental stewardship; the kids get to go outside and make their own mini-rain gardens comprised of a coffee filter, a mason jar, and all sorts of natural resources like rocks and native plants. In addition to the hands-on aspect of this internship, I’ve also been spending a good chunk of my time researching and writing a childrens’ theater script about salmon for SSS! My theater background and time at Seattle Childrens’ Theater inspired me to think differently about how environmental pedagogy can be approached in the classroom and outside of it, and so I’ve been exploring how Theater for Young Audiences can enhance and more deeply engage children in the stories of their local ecosystems. Working title for the script is “Small Fry” but I’ll probably be changing it, haha! Engaging in environmental education in all these different ways, while also getting to know how a nonprofit works and participating in hatchery management has been INVALUABLE. While I don’t know if I’ll end up working at an RFEG, I’ll be taking these lessons with me wherever I head next.

I didn’t grow up in Washington, so I never participated in Salmon in Schools programs or learned about salmon’s importance in the ecosystems of this area. It’s been amazing to learn about the role of hatcheries in raising salmon to replenish and supplement the wild salmon populations, and I’ve also gotten really familiar with the different life stages and physiologies of salmon! Just last week, we helped transfer the fry from their egg trays to the bigger troughs because they were getting WAY TOO BIG for their trays! So I spent the morning freeing the fry from their containers. It was absolutely magical to see 80,000 coho salmon swim in their two troughs. I got a little emotional, even, because I was part of that process. Look how cool!:

While this internship has been really fun, it’s come with some challenges. I’m pursuing departmental honors, so I’m doing 8 credits; this means I’m doing up to 10 hour days out in Mukilteo, then an additional 14ish hours outside of that doing research, writing the script, and doing analysis for SSS every week. It’s been hard to strike a balance and manage my time well, but I’m getting the hang of it now. Also, I’ve been struggling a bit with the script, in a couple ways: First, I have never written a children’s theater script before! AAH! Second, I’m writing it as I go, picking up more salmon knowledge on the job, which is cool but also means that I’m not an expert. Third, I’m struggling with incorporating the Indigenous perspective into the piece. I know that I want to emphasize the Indigenous peoples of Washington as interconnected with the wellbeing of salmon, but being not of Indigenous background myself, I’m hesitant to write those perspectives even though I’ve read a lot about them. I want to go about it in a respectful and holistic way, but right now I’m feeling like I don’t want to overstep or impose my own agenda. I’ve talked to my site supervisor and she said that I should just write and then reflect on it later, rather than get stuck now, so that’s what I’m doing.

Have any of you been feeling similarly about doing environmental work on stolen lands? How have you been grappling with or facing that? How have you been honoring and acknowledging Indigenous peoples of Washington in the work you’re doing in the internship, or in your lives?

[fictionadventurer]

Here, have a bunch of scattered thoughts, observations, and opinions about Greta Gerwig’s Little Women:

(Spoilers below, which wouldn’t usually be a big deal for something based on a classic novel, but I will be discussing the ending).

General Thoughts

The colors in this movie are lovely. The cinematography is lovely. This is a movie with so many wonderful things to look at. (Though the lighting was too dark in some scenes).

I loved how tactile this movie was. The things on-screen just feel so real and textured. I don’t know, like, there’s a fence Jo climbs over, and we see the splinters in the fence and it just feels weighty and textured. It made me appreciate the things in this movie’s world and in ours.

The music was great. I want the soundtrack.

I loved, loved, loved all the dancing scenes. Not sedate, not romantic, just so much vibrant joy and life. Jo’s dance in the pub was one of the highlights of her story. Almost as good were her and Laurie’s ridiculous dances at their first meeting–you see how well they get along as friends. The focus on dancing is definitely one of my favorite parts of the movie (and another reason I want the soundtrack). 

A lot of the acting had weird rhythms to it. Especially in group scenes where there was a lot of talking, it felt like people were just rapid-fire reciting lines from the book, rather than saying real things that real people would say. 

The beginning confused me. I couldn’t figure out whether the woman was supposed to be Jo March or Louisa May Alcott (part of the problem is that I wasn’t expecting a blonde Jo). I kind of wish Gerwig had just made a Louisa May Alcott biopic if she wanted to explore Little Women’s publication process, because it just makes this story more confusing.

The flashbacks were less confusing than I was expecting. There were a few times where it took a few seconds to figure out which part of the timeline we were in, but for the most part, I could follow it because I was familiar with the book. I’m not sure I could have followed it if I hadn’t been familiar with the book.

Some of the flashbacks layered together really well.  Other times, it just felt like we were jumping randomly through time. At some points, it didn’t feel like a story. It was just stuff happening, and even if it looked nice, I couldn’t connect to it emotionally.

I kind of like the way they layered Beth’s original bout of illness with her death, but then the story moves on to other storylines and other flashbacks and the death doesn’t really have an impact. Her death is just another thing that happens, rather than an emotional turning point.

The ending is very frustrating. So many of my thoughts about the movie in general are shaped by that ending, so it’s going to get it’s own section (and probably at least two other posts about it).

Character-Focused Thoughts

Laura Dern was a good Marmee. A bit livelier than might be expected, while still being warm and motherly. I can believe this Marmee would struggle with her temper.

(For some reason, I just really like Laura Dern. I don’t know why. Thus, I can’t give a real assessment of her Marmee because I just like that she was in the role).

That conversation between Marmee and Jo about her temper made no sense. Marmee starts out saying that she’s learned to control her temper, and when Jo says she wants to be like that, Marmee responds, “I hope you’ll do better. There are some natures too noble to curb, too lofty to bend.” What? It sounds like she’s saying that Jo doesn’t need to change, which is the exact opposite point this scene should be making. Unless she’s trying to say that she wants Jo to do more than curb her temper, but become someone so strong in her morals that she can stand strong against the temptations in life. But that’s not clear from the scene, and it’s easy to read it as a vague “empowerment” message. It’s another point where conflating Jo with Louisa May Alcott (by giving Marmee a line from one of Alcott’s mother’s letters) made the story more confusing.

To my surprise, I really liked Emma Watson as Meg. Or at least, I liked Meg and was able to forget that she was played by Emma Watson. She was a bit distant, a bit bland, but there was also something compelling about her sedate sweetness. (I loved her purple dress).

Her little subplot with John and the silk was my favorite part of the plot. Just when I was thinking, “This is just like other Little Women adaptations where I can’t connect to the characters”, we get that stunning scene of them discussing the price of the silk and I get teary-eyed over John’s regret that he’s too poor to give his wife what she wants. His compassion warring with his frustration, his love warring with practicality. Exquisite. And the resolution was perfect, with both of them willing to sacrifice for the other’s happiness.

As you can probably guess, I loved James Norton as John Brooke and wish he’d had more to do in the story.

While I kind of wish that we’d seen more of John’s love story with Meg, I also kind of like that we kept the focus on their married life. This movie’s so obsessed with marriage, but this is the only part of the movie where we get to explore what marriage actually looks like, rather than just listening to characters talk about their opinions of it.

Jo was lively and vibrant and I loved how they kept her relationship with Laurie so thoroughly brotherly (until the ending, which I’ll get to later). And I loved the “I’m so lonely” line, but the movie didn’t really do anything with it. There was so much potential for character development, but then she just didn’t develop. It’s the exact opposite of everything that I talked about in my essay about the ‘18 Little Women. The earlier adaptation got a lot wrong, but Jo’s arc was strong and compelling. This movie just assumed that Jo’s already great and didn’t give her an arc at all.

Beth was sweet and adorable and I wish we’d gotten more of her. The scene where she thanks Mr. Laurence for the piano was one of my favorite character moments of the movie. Her barely audible, stammering ‘thank you’ is such Shy Kid Culture.

Florence Pugh played older Amy very well, and highlighting her practicality was an interesting choice. But why didn’t they hire a kid to play younger Amy? She was ridiculous in the role of a twelve-year-old girl. I spent half the movie trying to figure out what young Amy’s voice reminded me of, until I finally realized: It sounds exactly like Mallory from Studio C whenever she plays a little kid in a sketch. I doubt that sketch comedy was what these people were going for in their Oscar-nominated movie.

Amy and Laurie’s romance had very interesting moments to it, and I love how they pushed each other to change. I liked the idea of it (and loved the scenery it took place in). But as two characters who fall in love, I’m not sure that what we saw on-screen was enough to make me really believe in it.

Mr. March was almost a non-character. I really wish that he’d been more present, and I wish they’d highlighted his letter and his role in his daughters’ character development more. (But this movie wasn’t really interested in the virtue-development part of the plot). He was bashed a lot by Aunt March and we didn’t get a chance to see if she was right about him or not.

Aunt March is a delightful old-lady character. I loved a lot about her. I didn’t love how she was a mouthpiece for their most ham-handed ideas about marriage.

Hannah was excellent. Added a nice dose of practical common sense. One of my favorite characters.

Making Mr. Laurence into a Southern gentleman was an interesting choice, especially given how this episode highlighted the Civil War part of the setting. I liked him, especially his relationship with Beth.

I laughed during Laurie’s first appearance, when the camera slowed down and made it into the most cliche romantic-comedy moment possible. Then when he spoke, I understood for the first time in my life why people like Timothee Chalamet. The goodwill toward his character was not to last.

Brotherly Laurie was adorable and likable. One of my favorite scenes was when he first meets the March family, and just stands there silently appreciating their lively, loving, comfortable family atmosphere.

Romantic interest Laurie was a jerk and a creep. The way he kept touching people who didn’t want to be touched, forcing affections on people who didn’t want them. Not cool. And “She calls me ‘my lord’?” Creeeeeepy.

After all the hype over the smock scene, I was expecting a lot more. I was like, “That’s it?” Not that I’m complaining–I was expecting something a lot more overtly sexual and I like that it was restrained.

(The cloak that Amy puts on after the smock scene? Gorgeous. I want it.)

I hate that Jo decides she wants to marry Laurie. After a whole movie spent showing how she’s right that their relationship was brotherly and that Amy’s a better fit for him, suddenly out of nowhere she just wants to attach herself to him because she’s lonely. And then it fails not because Jo has any revelations about herself or life, but because he’s already taken. It was just so bizarre. Especially in light of the ending, but again, I’ll get to it later. (Probably in another post).

Bhaer was a lovely character. I don’t understand why they made him French, but he’s such a steady, sensible, caring presence for Jo, so sweet and intelligent, and the movie completely failed to make use of his character and the arc he could have provided for Jo. 

The Ending

It’s my biggest source of frustration. I’d been fully spoiled for it, knew that it was “ambiguous”, and came fully prepared to do as many mental gymnastics as necessary to allow for the interpretation that Jo and Bhaer’s love story is the “real” ending. I couldn’t do it. There is no way that I can see that chase in the rain as anything other than a “forced” ending to the fictional story in Jo’s book.

When Bhaer visits the March’s, Jo’s not warm. She’s not happy. She’s just stunned and awkward. Frederick saying that he’s taking the job in California is nothing more than the most blatant set-up for a romantic-comedy ending. Even when he leaves, Jo doesn’t seem regretful, he’s just like, “Come and visit me sometime,” and Jo’s only response is, “Yeah, I probably won’t.”

Then, when she turns around, everyone has the most forced, zombie-like smiles on their faces. “You love him,” they all insist, and Jo is just baffled, like she’s in a Twilight Zone episode and struggling to assert her reality against a world that’s warped around her. Then they railroad Jo into a romance plot, setting up everything for the romantic-comedy chase in the rain against all of Jo’s protests that it’s unnecessary. And then the actual declaration of love is so entwined with Jo’s talk to her publisher that I can’t see it as anything other than fiction. The lines are such vague romance stuff that seems unconnected to anything that we’ve seen in Jo and Bhaer’s relationship through the rest of the movie. “I have nothing to give you,” he says, even though there’s never been a mention of him as poor before, no indication that this would have been a problem for their romance.

And then we see the lovely sunlit ending where everyone is happy and living active, fulfilled, love-and-service-filled lives, contrasted with the cold sterility of Jo watching her words get bound into a book. Don’t get me wrong, the binding process was beautiful to watch, but putting it forth as a “better” ending than Jo and Bhaer running a school together was absolutely ridiculous.

At best, I could try to say that the sunlit ending is a happy future brought about by the publication of the book–the royalties fund the school, everyone can be together, and Bhaer works at the school and he and Jo are friends and colleagues even if they don’t get married. But it’s given such an unrealistic gloss, and when the scene fades out and turns into the cover of the book, it seems like the final stamp saying that this is all fiction, and the only real thing about this ending is the book that Jo holds in her hands.

Instead of being surrounded by loving family and friends, she’s alone, holding a book. A book that isn’t even the book she wanted to write, a book that forced her to abandon her artistic principles for the sake of money. And to me, she looks like she’s about to cry (not happy tears), and it’s just such a bleak, sterile ending to a movie with the potential for such vigorous life.

(I do kind of wish I’d seen it without being spoiled for the ending and not knowing Gerwig’s thoughts about the “best” ending for Jo, because I’ll never know if I would have come to the same interpretation of the ending if I’d been coming in completely blind. I kind of feel like I’d have had similar thoughts, but I’ll never know.)

There’s so much more I could say about this ending, but all my thoughts are connected to how it affects the arcs and messages of the rest of the movie, and this post is far too long already. I’ll need at least one significant essay and at least 1-2 other posts to untangle exactly how this ending affects my feelings about this movie.

[jackharlou]

Can you write something about surprising Jack with a trip somewhere for your anniversary and he’s surprised because you normally don’t plan things

Planning wasn't something you enjoyed. It stressed you out and you ended up not enjoying whatever you were planning. So, you were the type of person who looked for someone, payed them and that's it, but Jack was always into surprises, of any sort, and you wanted to do something special for him, just like he always does for you.

Having the date of your anniversary around the corner had you sitting and thinking; what could you do for Jack?

After a few minutes of thinking it came to you; he has always wanted to go to Las. Vegas with you. He has been there on his own, with his friends and team, but he always said he wanted to go partying with you there, go to the casinos, stay and relax at nice hotels.

Las Vegas wasn't too far away, you could take the weekend to go and it wouldn't bother his busy schedule, so it was all set.

The morning of your anniversary he woke you up with breakfast in bed, flowers and matching diamond necklaces with each other's names. Later he made love to you with your name written in shiny rocks hanging from his chest.

You forced him to get in the shower with you and to get ready. You prepared one small luggage for the two of you so you were all set to head out.

"let's go" - you said walking out of your bedroom with him following you.

"go where?" - he asked confused but glued to your side.

"somewhere fun" - you answered with a smile on your face.

"hold on, you planned something?"

"don't get used to it, but yes" - you said laughing and grabbing the luggage you hide close to the front door.

He spent the entire ride to the airport asking and trying to get information out of you, just like a little kid.

In a private jet you headed to the unknown destination for Jack. He was still shocked you even planned to fly like that. You weren't going to say there that Neelam helped you a bit with that.

As soon as you were flying on Las Vegas space, he recognized it - "Vegas?" - he asked.

"yep" - you said fixing your belt since you were close to land.

"why Vegas? This is sin city"

"because everytime you come here you come back home saying you wanted to live things here with me, that you wanted to go to clubs with me, so, here we are" - both of you enjoyed a good club or party, even going to strip clubs. You love hanging with him and his friends, drinking and having fun, so Las Vegas was a place he liked to experiment with you.

"you know you're the best girlfriend in the entire world, right?" - he asked looking at you like a happy puppy.

"I know that, but thank you" - you said holding his hand while the plane landed.

The trip started with a couples massage you booked, after that you went shopping for the night, giving you two time to get to know a little bit of the city and its people too.

In the room you barely got ready in time, since he couldn't keep his hands off you, as usual, but when you were ready a taxi from the hotel took you to a strip club, where you bought a dance for him and he bought one for you. You had a great time spending a good chunk of money there, had fun with the girls, the ones who told you a few times you were the most relaxed and fun girl they've ever met there at work.

After leaving that place you went to one of the most famous clubs. There you danced, drank and had so much fun. The following day a couple of pics of you two dancing and kissing made it to the tabloids, which had your social medias going crazy over your relationship.

The next day you woke up with the worst headache ever, completely naked and laying in Jack's chest, the one who was naked too and still completely pass out. You stayed there for a few minutes, trying to remember what happened last night, but there were a lot of dark spots in your memory.

You slowly opened your eyes, trying to adjust your eyes to the light coming from the window. There was something shiny in front of you and tou thought of his necklace but when your sight became clearer, you perfectly saw what was in front of you; a huge diamond ring around your finger. You quickly sat back, making Jack wake up scared.

"holy shit, my head" - he murmured grabbing his hand with his left hand. There you gasped - "what's wrong?" - he asked.

You pointed at the wedding band around his finger, when he saw it he looked at your finger and gasped just like you did seconds prior.

"did we...?" - he asked.

"I think we did..."

You tried to put the pieces together, trying to remember the night you had, and none of you remember getting freaking married.

After cleaning yourselves and getting breakfast in the room, you found a piece of paper of the place where you apparently got married. In less than 30 minutes you were there. You asked and they gave you footage of you two there, getting fake married. Jack checked his bank account and after getting out from the chapel you went to a jewelry place where you spent thousands of dollars in those rings around your fingers.

You laughed it out and kept exploring the city.

On the plane, on the way back home, you had your fingers interlocked with his, unconsciously playing with his wedding band.

"am i wrong for wishing this rings had a real meaning?" - Jack said, scared of what you could say. He knew he wanted to marry you, but that wasn't the right way. You deserved more.

You looked at him smiling - "I'm over here beating myself, trying to get the thought of us married out of my head because I thought it was too soon for you"

"baby, I feel like I'm late with everything when it comes to you. You don't know how bad I wish we could have met sooner. Nothing would make me happier than seeing you write your name with mine after it"

"Is this your way of asking me to marry you?"

He softly took off your ring and looked into your eyes - "I do feel in my heart that you're the love of my life and my best friend and soulmate, and nothing would make me happier than share my life, time and experiences with you. Will you give me the honor of becoming my wife?"

You smiled widely with teary eyes - "A billion times yes. You're all I ever dreamed of and a lot more. I want to live my life with you" - he slided the ring back around your finger, then lifted your hand and kissed it. You grabbed his face and smashed your lips together, showing in one kiss how much you wanted each other.

"mrs. Harlow sounds good, right?"

"it sounds amazing" - you smiled and buried your face on his neck.

Everyone went nuts when they saw you come back from Las Vegas with rings on your fingers, and you just couldn't be happier.

+

jackharlow

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jackharlow we did a little something 👀

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yourusername my partner for life🥺💙

↳ jackharlow I love you so much mama

claybornharlow i love you guys!!!

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↳ druski2funny of course

[dannythedog]

Lover, Leaver - Sam Kiszka x Reader

Synopsis: You and Sam take a new step in you friendship for what you think is the better, but Sam seems to think it's a mistake.

Warnings: mentions of sex, alcohol consumption, not necessarily abandonment but Sam does leave you hanging, cussing

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Surprise! I wrote something!! This isn't edited and it's probably not very good, but it's just a little idea I had swimming around and I actually had motivation to write

~

You'd had your fair share of morning afters. You know how awkward and rushed they could be, but before you even opened your eyes and despite the massive hangover, you knew this one was different. It would be slow and comfortable all because it was him. Someone who'd been through so much with you.

The light that shined through your curtains stabbed at your head, but that didn't deter your mood. When you rolled over you expected to see him there, but your spirit slipped a bit. The bed next to you was cold and empty. You hoisted yourself from the mattress and covered your naked body with whatever was on the floor, then padded your way to the kitchen. To say your fantasies of Sam walking around in his boxers making you breakfast were crushed would be an understatement.

You checked the whole house for him. His things were gone, car not in the driveway, no note. Any trace of a good, hopeful mood vanished as you sat on your couch alone. You had pined over Sam since the moment you met. Your friendship had spanned over a couple years, meeting them at some bar and getting into a wicked karaoke match with Josh. The rest of the guys accepted you immediately, loving the energy you brought, but you and Sam had always been closest. The first time you laid eyes on him, rosy cheeks, long brown hair flowing, gorgeous downturned eyes that drew you in, you knew you were in it bad.

Last night your friendship had finally started to take a turn in the direction you wanted. A few drinks in, Sam had you on the dance floor, hands caressing you in ways they hadn't before. A couple more drinks had you guys stealing kisses in dark corners away from the prying eyes of his brothers. A final two shots had given you the courage to hop in an Uber and head back to your place where you spent the night tangled in each other. Sure, you were drunk but you knew what you wanted and you thought he did too.

Your phone had no notifications, so you left it sitting on the counter. There was no use in texting Sam when it might upset him further. You spent the day cleaning up your apartment, the kitchen needed a deep clean and you knew you should wash your sheets after last nights escapade. That took up a good chunk of your time with minimal checks of your phone.

When you hadn't heard from Sam by 8 pm, you decided to break out your bottle of wine and some records to keep your feelings at bay. You should've known better though. Every song reminded you of him and the wine made you weepy. Your night ended with you falling asleep covered in tears and sorrow with the wine bottle clutched in your hand.

---

It had been a week since Sam seemingly walked out of your life with no explanation. You hadn't heard a word form him nor seen any activity on social media. The guys texted you every so often to tell you about their days or what shenanigans they got up to, but no mentions of Sam.

You could feel your heart breaking more and more as the silence went on. Were you that bad in bed? Was he that repulsed by you? Sam was supposed to be someone who was always there for you, you at least deserved an explanation.

Josh had texted you earlier in the day to remind you they were all going to your favorite bar tonight. You had debated on not going, but you were determined to get an explanation from Sam. The outfit you chose flattered you in every way you could think of. If you looked good, you'd feel good, right?

The ride to the bar was short and anxiety pressed on you in every which way. Tonight you'd either get a decent explanation and things will hopefully go back to normal or you'd be losing your best friend forever. You really wanted to believe that everything would be okay, but you weren't that naive.

The bar was packed as it was every Saturday night. The guys liked coming here because they could hide in plain sight. The smokey atmosphere didn't help ease your breathing and the dim lights only made your eyes more frantic.

Josh's familiar laugh sounded from a booth a few feet away, easing you up a bit. Your eyes scanned the group and your heart pounded when you saw the familiar lanky frame sitting at the edge of the booth, a small smile on his face and a beer in hand.

"Hey," you call out when you reach the table. Everyone greeted you with happy cheers while Sam's face turned stony. You slid in across from Sam and next to Jake.

Sam mumbled something about getting another drink and got up hastily. Your eyes followed him across the room and watched his slim figure perch itself on a stool at the bar. Jake nudges you and launches into some story that lightly distracted you from Sam.

He didn't come back the whole night. Sam stayed at the bar and it only made your anger swell. The guys tried to keep you roped into their conversations and for the most part it worked. That is until Jake leaned in to whisper in your ear. "Go talk to him. I don't know what's going on between you two, but I don't think it's worth ruining a friendship over."

You bit your lip to suppress a bitter laugh that threatened to escape. "He's the one who left me with no explanation." Jake rolled his eyes and pushed at your arm to encourage you to move. "Then speak your part. Let him know what you're feeling. At least you'll feel better because you tried. The rest will be on him."

You took a moment to mull it over. He was right. You could be the bigger person and tell Sam your bit and whatever happens would be on him.

Jake pats your shoulder as you move from the booth to the bar, catching Sam's eye briefly. He quickly rises from his seat and makes his way towards the exit, cigarettes in hand.

"Sam!" You call, frustration coating your voice. You weave through the sweaty bodies that clogged your path to Sam, getting a few nasty words as you go. "Sammy!" You yell again as you catch up to him outside the door. He was leaned up against the brick wall, long hair covering a bit of his face as he lit a cig. It feels like you were punched in the gut as you look at him. You heave out a breath to try and recover as you straighten yourself out.

"Can we talk? Please?" Silence. He didn't even look at you. Anger started leeching through your body again at his lack of response. "God damn it!" You screech, causing him to jump a bit. "What the hell did I do? I don't deserve this! You can despise me all you want, but I at least deserve an explanation. Then I'll walk out of your life like you want."

His eyes finally lift to you but he never opens his mouth. He just takes a long drag. That bitter laugh you were holding back earlier finally escapes and you shake your head. "Fuck you, Sam." You spin on your heel and grasp the door handle, ready to accept that you'll never have your best friend back.

"I was scared," he says quietly. Your hand froze in its place, your body not moving no matter how much your brain willed it. "I was terrified of the feelings going on in my chest when I woke up. So I ran."

You slowly turned to him, body shaking from adrenaline. "You could've just told me it was a mistake, Sam. I would've got it." That was a lie. You knew you would've been crushed if he told you that.

"I don't want it to be a mistake, but I was just so scared of you thinking that. We crossed a major boundary and I knew I was ready, but I didn't know if you were."

"Sam, I-"

"Look, I wanted what happened," he interrupted. "When I woke up, I looked over at you and just stared at you for so long. Everything felt so right to me, but then I remembered that we're just friends. You're you for god's sake! My feelings were fucking choking me so I thought if I just ran it would get better but it didn't. I was miserable. I thought about you every waking moment. I thought about your laugh, the way your skin feels against mine, how it felt to finally kiss you. About how you always take care of me when I get too drunk and how you make everyone feel included. I want everything that comes with you but I couldn't handle that rejection. I thought space would help but it looks like I'm losing you anyways."

You stared at him speechless, heart pounding. Sam liked you? He tossed his cigarette on the ground and stomped it out with his shoe. "So there you go. There's my explanation. If you want to leave, go for it," he says bitterly and starts making his way to the parking lot.

"Sam, wait!" You cry out and rush towards him.

"What? What could you possi-" This time it's your turn to cut him off. You grasp his shoulders and press your lips against his, hoping all your feelings would be conveyed through the action. His hands slid to your waist, pulling you close.

"I wanted everything too," you say breathlessly and press your forehead against his. "God, I've had it bad for you since I met you."

A small chuckle escapes his lips and he squeezes your hips. "I'm sorry for leaving you like that. I thought I was protecting myself. I didn't think I'd hurt you that badly."

You shook your head and wrapped your arms around his neck. "It's okay. Everything's okay now. Let's put it behind us and focus on what's happening now."

He presses another kiss to your lips and laced his fingers with yours. "C'mon," he said and tugs you to the parking lot. "Let's go home."

~

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[quirklessidiot]

Title: pretty eyes [short story] Pairing: Gojo Satoru x gn!reader [soulmate au; takes place eight years before the yuuji and sukuna fusion] Genre: josei, romance, fluff, comedy, and your normal tragic angst!

Summary: in which the right eye is mine and the left eye is yours and when we meet for the first time, you see your own eyes staring back at you. Warnings: language, blood, minor manga spoilers, mild ooc gojo and death

Notes:  can we all just sit down admire satoru? Like the eyes man, the attitude omg... Ah im so sorry in advance  if hes ooc here sksksk it is my first time to write about any jjk characters and I havent fully grasped them yet despite reading the manga anyways i wont be online next week and tomorrow so i decided to publish this ahead of time. ily all and again thank you for the love and support, it does mean a lot *bows down* see you all again when i’ve got time? jskskss i fucking hate college and online classes, satoru save me please soulmate au’s [not read in any particular order nor are they connected, they just share the same trope]  Pretty eyes [gojo vers.] ||  lasting blues [toji vers]

tragic soulmate au series || taglist 

“Pretty.” were the very first words you uttered in complete awe as you saw yourself in the mirror and no, this wasn’t directed to your physical appearance. It was directed to your left eye, the eye of your soulmate.

Contrasting to your normal boring color on the right, your soulmate’s eyes were ethereal and unreal. How could someone have such pretty eyes? It was completely surreal at that point that you refused to believe that someone with these eyes were actually human.

You placed one hand and gently caressed the left side of your face where the pretty eye rested, “You must be an angel.” you muttered, “Only angels have pretty eyes.”

Thus      like every child     you gave your soulmate a nickname, ‘pretty angel’  and every night before you slept, you’d wonder out loud how your pretty angel was doing, if they were nearby, or anything like that. You wonder what type of food they like, do they like to leave the window open for a cool wind or do they like their chocolate hot or iced.

Yet as you grew older, the pretty angel faded out into your thoughts. The pretty idea of soulmates and love disappeared like the story books you read as a child. The pretty blue eyes on your left is forgotten as life takes a toll on you.

They say death was inevitable, when your mother died in middle school, you watch as your father’s left eye turn to your mother’s color. You watched as he clenched her hand, like it was some last resort of plea. You watched him cry as he passed by the mirrors and you wondered, would it hurt like that too?

It baffles you how beautiful and cruel the soulmate system was.

How every time your father would stare at his own reflection, his left eye would be nothing but a reminder of your dead mother.

You let out a second meek cough in the quiet bookstore that night, the sounds of the car passing by were nothing but quiet noise to you as you immerse yourself in the literature book you were reading, your students would surely love this one.You let out another cough as you turn around to find a small space to read since standing for too long made you tired too quickly. 

You’re too enchanted by the words of the author that you don’t even notice the rather tall man in front of you.

You look up, ready to give a quiet apology but stop short when you notice how ethereal the stranger looked. Albeit he wore a pair of weird Lennon shades at this time of night, he reminded you very much of an angel with his snow white hair.

You don’t even notice how your left eye is returning back to it’s normal color, the stranger does though and it surely was odd to see his eyes on a stranger.

“Well,” the stranger has a shit-eating grin decorating his handsome features, he definitely looked like trouble for sure, “This is unexpected.”

He lowers his shades and your eyes immediately widen as you suddenly cup the left side of your face, you’d recognize those unique eyes anywhere, after all, you had those on your left eye since you were born, “Y-You.” you muttered, the shock momentarily eating you up.

“Yeah, me.” He grins, loving the sudden attention, “Wow, I was expecting something like fireworks or flowers to appear.” He suddenly teased, bending down to your level.

Now that you notice it, he was very, very tall.

“I…” You blink, trying to gain your composure, “Wow…”

“Did I pass your expectations?” it’s been a few minutes since you started talking and all he has been doing is teasing you. 

“You do look like an angel.” You complimented and his eyes widened at the rather out-of-place compliment, “Your eyes are very pretty, thanks for letting me borrow them for twenty-two years.”

Gojo Satoru thought he had the upper-hand, after all, you looked quite meek but when you said those compliments, he was sure that you were going to be the teasing one in this whole-soulmate thing.

So he tries to one up you.

“I’m Satoru Gojo but you can call me tonight.” He grinned, trying to tease you once again, the corny pick up line sounds suave but your blank expression says otherwise.

“I’m Y/N L/N and  think I should call you in the morning, it is quite late right now and I still have classes at eight am.” You mumbled, looking down at your watch, “How about you just walk me home, then?”

“Okay.” Satoru immediately raises his hands, signaling that he was giving up, “First off, you should be more hyper aware that I may be a serial killer.”

“Are you?”

“What?”

“Are you a serial killer?” you repeat, “That would be awfully disappointing if my soulmate was one since I’d immediately give you up on the police. I’m not interested in being in a Bonnie and Clyde type of thing and I think it’s too early for me to die.”

“You’re very upfront about these sorts of things.”

“Well, you’re very teasing for someone who just met their soulmate a few minutes ago.” you shrug, “So, are you going to walk me home or not?”

“Ah, bossy too. I love the attitude already.”

“We’re spending our whole lives together. You might as well get used to it.”

You’d think the idea of soulmates would scare you after the firsthand experience with your parents but curiosity always got the best of you and the white-haired man proved that maybe it would be different this time.

Throughout the few months you’ve spent with him, You’ve noticed that Gojo Satoru and you may be alike in some ways but in most ways, he was different. 

First, he was enigmatic. You’ve known the man for a couple of months now and you’ve been going out on dates but you don’t know much about him except that like you, he’s a teacher at a good school and he tends to be conceited when he talks about his personal skills as a teacher.

“...What are you doing?” Satoru asked, peeking from behind your shoulder as you type in the grades of your student for your class.

“I’m grading my students.” You muttered, it was after dinner at your place and he was lazing around your place, the sound of faint jazz music could be heard throughout your small space and the wafting smell of freshly baked brownies filled the room, “Aren’t you supposed to be doing something since you're a teacher?”

Satoru quirks a brow as if you had said something odd then it seemed like realization had dawn upon him at that moment.

“Ah, I’m not doing much since my students are on break.”

“Didn’t you say that last time?”

Silence filled the room and Satoru breaks it off with his very famous ‘heh’ that made you inwardly roll your eyes and chunk the pillow that you’ve been hugging towards his direction, “Stop slacking off, you’re a teacher.” You scold him mildly, followed by a small cough.

“Ah, Y/N-chan. You’re so mean to me,” He frowned, handing you the mug filled with water, “...No fair.”

“You're a teacher and you’re slacking off.” You deadpanned, ignoring his sly ways of trying to get you in his arms, “How is that even fair?”

“My students can handle themselves so well that I don’t need to babysit them.” He hmphed,  arms crossed and head held up high in a rather arrogant manner. You could only only scoff back a reply at his rather haughty attitude but you’ve gotten used to it to the point where you just roll your eyes.

“You’re a very bad teacher, Satoru.” 

“Hey, I am considered one of the best and it’s an honor-”

You clicked your tongue and just pinched his cheek in reply to get him to stop drawling on about his achievements. You wondered if you dated a man child or something.

Second, despite his teasing nature and good looks, he’s a rather shy bean and has some insecurities about it too, maybe it was because there were moments where you couldn’t really understand your soulmate and his puzzling life. He didn’t tell and you didn’t want to pry because you technically both had your whole life to get around that subject.

Luckily, you seem to have found a remedy for moments like that.

“Satoru…” You called out to your soulmate who was staring at the nutrition content of the wafers on his hand, “Satoru!” 

“Oh, sorry. What were you talking about?” he finally snapped out of his daze and turned to you who was standing there, hand on your hip. The crispy wafers on his hand are long forgotten. 

Your soulmate is good looking, alright. If anyone were to pass by him they wouldn’t see the minor zilch of worry in his eyes.

“Are you alright?” You ask, walking closer to him, completely serious.

“...You aren’t going to leave me, right?” 

You raise a brow at the sudden question, wasn’t he too young to have some mid-life crisis? Was this because of the soulmate movie you watched late last night about the soulmate leaving their other half to rebel against the system and because of his partner’s family?

“Why would I leave you?”

He blinks once, then twice, the only sound that could be heard was the familiar music playing throughout the grocery store, it was as if no one was there during the mid-day. Satoru proceeds to look away, “I don’t know. What if you realize that you don’t like me as your soulmate and you followed what the dude did in the movie?” he started to mumble, mouth pressed on a straight line.

“Ah, the whole rich in-laws.” you blinked, “Don’t tell me you’re a son of some huge clan in japan that’s loaded and I’m going to be a disgrace to your family name or something?”

It came out as a joke at first, it really did and you were going to laugh but when you notice the straight face he has on, you realize it was anything but a joke.

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, Oh.” 

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one asking that question then?”

“What?” He almost half-yelled, eyes wide behind his usual shades that he seemed to wear a lot, “That doesn’t make sense!”

“Neither does your question, Satoru.” You frowned, massaging your temples, “I should be the one asking you that, are you going to leave me?”

“Of course not.” He sputters out.

“Then there goes my answer too.” You replied, huffing out as you grab the sweet wafers on his hand to put into the cart, “You’re very weird.”

“You’re weird.”

“No, you are.”

“You seriously asked me if I’d leave you because of your rich family in the middle of the day.” You deadpanned, inching closer to him to the point where your lips are brushing against his.

“This is unfair.” He huffed, suddenly turning red, “You’re attacking me in broad daylight.”

“Oh dear.” Your beguiling eyes, enjoying his rather embarrassed state, “This isn’t attacking, Satoru.”

Then you closed the distance between you two, his eyes seemed to widen behind his shades at your forward approach, clearly you guys never did PDA. You took this as an opportunity to lick his lower lip so you could slip your tongue in and as he starts getting into it and placing his hand to cup your ass, you pull away with a big smile on your lips, “That’s attacking.” you grinned.

Satoru seemed to have regained his senses quickly after that rather heated public make-out session, he placed his hand on top of his mouth and feigned embarrassment, “My, My, I didn’t think you’d enjoy those types of things in public.” he was back to his normal teasing self.

Well, that seemed to have worked very well.

“Mhm,” 

Yet unknown to you those thoughts still lingered in his head, it wasn’t just his family that he was worried about, it was also regarding his job as a jujutsu sorcerer       something he has yet to mention, he’s not even sure if you’d believe him       it’s a normal occurrence for people like him to die in this occupation and he’s scared that one day, you’ll see your left eye turning back to his eye color with no valid explanation.

Not only that but the amount of people who’d go after you to get to him, he clenched on the shopping cart tightly

“I’m tired.” You cut his thoughts short and Satoru turns to you, unlike him, you weren’t physically active so you tire easily, even joking around that you were a granny in a child’s body, “Can we sit down after this and get some gyudon?”

“Sure Y/N.” he grins, giving you a one-arm hug and kissing your temple.

Third, he’s terrible with kids, period, no questions asked. 

Your eyes narrowed to slits as he brought in one of his students named Megumi, the boy is quiet and compared to your giant and teasing soulmate, he’s serious. In fact he was more serious than the tiny pinky of the white-haired man.

“...Are you kidnapping a third grader?”

“He’s one of my students.”

“You don’t even know the first thing of looking after kids.” You pointed out, “And didn’t you mention that you teach high school students?”

“Well,” he drawled on, “It’s kind of a long story but he’s technically a genius.”

You let out a stifling sigh, “You’re impossible.” you mutter, bending down to the small boy’s level, “Would you like something to eat in compensation for him annoying you?”

The boy nods mutely.

“I wasn’t annoying him!” He corrects.

“He looks very annoyed standing next to you.”

“That’s literally what he looks like!”

You roll your eyes in reply and turn to the young boy, handing him a pastry that you had brought earlier. You  watched Megumi eat his pastry in front of the television that played some child-friendly show as you let out a soft cough and pour yourself some water

“Are you alright?” Satoru asks, resting his head on your shoulders.

“Yeah,” You replied, “Why’d you ask?”

“You’re looking quite pale these days.”

“Maybe it’s the allergy season, already.”  you nonchalantly replied, taking another gulp of water, “You’re terrible with kids, by the way.”

“That’s why I’m a high school teacher, Y/N.”

This connects you to your fourth observation, he’s nonchalant and easy going but he harbors a rather deep worry for you to the point where you wonder if he was really your soulmate or your mother incarnate. Three years into the whole soulmate thing with him, you still couldn’t help but think that he’s doting nature was quite adorable.

You feel like you’re coming down with a cold these days, your head has been throbbing and your cough is worsening. Satoru’s eyes are filled with nothing but worry as he handed you some medication. Your soulmate was now a mother hen and if it were different circumstances, you’d laugh it off.

“We should go to the doctor.” He nagged you once again.

“I’m literally going to sleep it off.” You hoarsely replied, “I’ll be fine, Satoru.”

“You literally sound like you smoked a pack with your voice, are you sure?”

“I am.” You glared, “Don’t sleep-”

Before you could even finish what you were saying, he flops right next to you in the bed, “-I literally told you to not sleep next to me.” you scolded him.

“A mere cold won’t phase me.”

“I swear to god, Gojo Satoru. I’ll kick you out.” He ignores your ministrations and snuggles his head on your neck, his warm breath tickling it, “You’re impossible.”

“You love me.”

“Sadly.”

“Hey.”

“I’m kidding.” you let out a quiet chuckle, looking down at your soulmate and running your hands through his white hair, “I love you very much, you idiot.”

“Hard same.”

“Never mind, I take it back.” you giggle.

And after a rather short playful banter between you two, you find yourself sleeping and snuggling on his long limbs. You think all is well, you really do. That was until you wake up later at three am in the morning with a loud coughing fit. Satoru immediately sits upright and opens your nightlight but what he sees next, scares him more than the curses he has ever encountered.

Your sheets are now stained in blood from the coughing fit that had just happened and you're completely taken aback too, completely breathless.

“Y-Y/N…” He gulps down, quickly taking the sheets away from you, “Let’s go to the hospital now, please?”

“...L/N-san, have you been getting coughing fits before this?” the doctor asks, looking up from your chart. Satoru watches you shake your head as you clench the paws of his jacket, the doctor takes off his glasses, “How about coughs that don’t seem to go away? Getting tired too easily?”

Satoru doesn’t like where this was going, he doesn’t like where this was going at all.

“Um, just some dry coughs and I’ve always been an inactive person.” You quietly replied, contrasting to your usual bright and teasing demeanor, you looked too tired this morning and Satoru just hopes it’s because he dragged you out of bed at four am to get yourself checked asap.

“Y/N-san, has any of your family members been diagnosed with lung cancer?”

The whole room is silent and you could almost hear a pin drop, Satoru feels his knuckles suddenly turn white, “I recalled my okaasan died because of that.” You replied silently and the doctor nods feverishly.

“...Y/N-san...It pains me to say this but the reason you’ve been experiencing this is because of the tumors located in your lungs.” Satoru feels his heart drop when he hears those words, “We have to do further tests to confirm-”

“Do it.” Satoru cuts the old doctor off, his hands are visibly shaking already, he hopes that this was just a misdiagnosis, that this doctor was just a bad one or better yet whatever excuse his mind could make up at that moment, “Do all the tests needed for Y/N, please.”

Fifth, he’s very supportive towards you and your impulsive decisions. If he could join you in it, he would but you usually decide against it.

It’s another quiet night for you as you sit across from your soulmate at the dinner table. You’ve grown awfully thin and your hair was starting to fall off due to the chemoradiation, this day marked the third month since you found out that you have lung cancer just like your mother. Surgery was apparently too risky so the safest option right now was this treatment. 

You don’t deny the anxiety eating you up every day, specifically the fear of death, you’re even more worried for Satoru since not only had he been paying for your treatment but he had opt to take care of you, saying that his job would be fine without him since you were going to get better soon anyways.

“Would you still love me if I shaved my hair?” You asked, your voice still quite hoarse.

“You kidding me? I’d still love you even if you turned into a roach.”

You immediately crinkle your nose in disgust, “That’s disgusting.”

“Honest reply.”

Truthfully, the man had been your rock these past three months. You knew how hard it was for him to be happy around you, how he had put on a brave front and remained positive saying that this was just going to be a rough couple of months and you’d be back in no time despite the bleak outlook.

It kept you sane amongst the tragedy.

“I wanna shave my hair.”

“Like right now?”

You nod, “Can we use your electric razor?”

“You want me.” he points to himself, “To cut your hair?”

“I wouldn’t want anyone else to do it.” You grinned.

And that’s how you ended up in your bathroom after dinner, Satoru’s shades on the side and his concentration directly on your scalp. You had literally told him that he just needed to do it the same way as he shaved his beard but he was still scared. Apparently, he had never shaved anyone’s hair before.

“...Okay, Y/N. Here goes…” He proclaimed, switching the razor on. As bits and pieces of your hair fall to the ground, you feel your cheeks getting wet and your shoulders tense, Satoru is quick to notice the switch of emotion and immediately turns the razor off before bending down in front of you, “Woah, woah… Y/N….”

“I-I…” Your lips are quivering as the tears fall faster when you see his pretty eyes staring back at yours, you try to let out a laugh but instead it comes out as a choke sob, “Sorry, this is stupid. I’m literally crying over fucking hair.”

“No, of course not…” He replies, enveloping you in a hug, “Of course not.”

Satoru feels you start to shake in his arms and he knows he should keep his emotions in check, he’s a sorcerer for crying out loud but seeing you break down for the first time in three months had him shaking too, you didn’t deserve all this, fuck, you didn’t deserve any of this at all!

“Would you like me to shave my hair so you’d feel a bit better?” he asks. After recovering from your breakdown, you had asked him to continue shaving your hair because you might as well be done with it.

“Please don’t.” You reply, wiping your tears away, “We’d look like eggs.”

“Cute eggs, you mean.” He corrects, teasing you and trying to cheer you up, this was all he could do and he hates it. 

He really hates it.

What good was the title of being the strongest when he couldn’t save you from all of this?

Lastly, if you hadn’t highlighted it enough. He has pretty eyes, contrasting to your dull and boring ones, you always loved how different his eyes are. Sometimes you wondered why he dared to hide them behind his crappy and overused Lennon shades.

“Can I see them?” 

Your room is dimly lit as Satoru sleeps next to you on the hospital bed, you were growing weaker and frailer by the day and you could see the toll it took on your soulmate. You were heavily reminded of your father who was sitting right next to your mother on her deathbed.

“See what?” He yawned.

“Your eyes.”

“You’re awfully in love with them, huh?” 

“I’ve always been in love with them from the moment I saw it in the mirror.”

Silence envelopes the room with your statement and as requested, he takes the shades off and now you’re greeted by the most beautiful blue eyes that you love to look at in the reflection since you were a child, “Pretty.” You muttered, raising your frail hands slowly to cup his face, “Pretty eyes.”

Satoru takes in a deep breath as he places his hand on top of yours, the silence is heavy. You both know what’s about to come in the next few days, you’re lucky if you even last a night. Yet he doesn’t want to talk about it, he shuts the topic off quickly when you try to even raise it.

“Yeah.” he mumbles, staring at you, “Pretty.”

You let out a quiet laugh, “I doubt it, I’m anything but pretty now.” your voice hoarse, making him lightly squeeze your hands, “Will you be bringing Megumi tomorrow?”

“Yeah, the brat said he saved enough money to get you your favorite pastry.”

“That’s good.” you blinked, “I’m tired.”

Satoru feels his shoulder tense at your words, they were so plain yet at the same time so heavy, “Should I call the doctor?” he asks. You shake your head and just snuggle on his chest.

“No,” You mumbled, inhaling his scent and basking on his presence, “I want your warmth next to me.”

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“You know, you’ve always had prettier eyes.”

Yet you don’t reply and he feels your grip on his sweater lessen, he doesn’t even need to see his reflection to know that his left eye has returned back to your (e/c) ones.

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