#like this is when i really need a friend who has gone through severe anxiety and can relate to me

[neverbeforeandneversince]

.

[olivianyx]

UPDATES ON MY JOURNEY

Heyy all! I've been focusing on my senior professional medical year and it has been stressful. So here are some things I manifested effortlessly and a few things without me thinking about it. Long ass post ahead! ⚠️⚠️

1. Getting more pocket money than usual. Like my parents usually transact in my account like a $80 or $100 AUD per month. But in both feb and march this year, they transacted me $500 and $700 AUD! Plus! I occasionally find $10 or $50 cash in my classroom or on the streets sometimes (and they come lie next to my feet 😭) I'd ask everyone in my class if it's theirs, and they say no. What do y'all expect me to do? Like go and give it to the university management?? 😭 hell no, so i kept it lol.

2. MANIFESTED DIOR'S LIP OILS!! 😭😭 LIKE 5 OF THEM 😭 YOU DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH I'VE OBSESSED WITH LIP OILS 😭😭 AND I WANTED THE RASPBERRY ONE SO BAD, AND GUESS WHAT? I MANIFESTED IT ALONG WITH 4 OTHER SHADESS OMGGG 😭😭😭

3. My crush giving me hints that she's obsessed with me 😭 like she literally told me 'you're so sweet and caring, I've never met a person like this after my grandma' cus her grandma passed away recently and she was so depressed. She even had an eye infection, so she stopped coming to the uni. So i had to make sure she's alright, and met her everyday cus she needed someone real bad. Like she needed to talk to someone and get that thing bothering her outta her head. I was there all along whatever she was going through (don't come at me y'all, ik if we help someone they would say all these things but she's my crush lol so) She's also getting real close to me, like she tells me how annoying people are lol. She loves skin ship, physical touch, being clingy around me, and complimenting me 😭😭 so these are the hints 😭 like friends wouldn't do that right? Would they?? (My friends diss me right in front of everyone 😶)

4. I've always been the type to care too much for the silliest things, nowadays I don't really put my energy into it and become all anxious. My anxiety levels have completely gone down like I'm literally cool asf?? Even while being in public?? Literally yess

5. Manifested getting my hair coloured next week! and my mom permitted me! For my cousin's engagement in april, I wanna be there like the hot younger sister I am lol. I just wanna make my relatives and their kids jealous cus they made fun of me when I was younger (my younger self has been dreaming for this moment) so why not a revenge glow up?? 😭

6. Losing weight even though I eat like a pig due to my study stress. Like literally I ate a 5 course meal one day and lost 2 kgs the next day? (cus I randomly checked my weight for 2 days cus I had to submit my height and weight to the university student records)

7. Getting a natural blush on my face! Like it's such a game changer, I look like a movie star y'all 😭✋🏻

8. My teachers complimenting me for my discipline and high scores. As yk uni professors don't even give af bout students and they complimented me??

9. Getting into a new friend group! My old one was too toxic and they would always bully me (verbally) my new friend group is literally soo damn enjoyable! Like they're the cool kids of the year 😭 and now I'm one too!

10. As I mentioned in my older post that I'm moving into an apartment. We moved in and it was too difficult for me to sleep as the place was new and also there we're disturbances in the night time like stomping noises or playing loud music at night. So the neighbors there were too sweet that they introduced and comforted us that it's okay and if something's bothering us they'll take care of it. And they literally made the people who we're causing those disturbances to vacate out 😭😭✋🏻

11. My hair getting shinier! It was brittle before as I was severely anemic, now my baby hair is back and it's shining ✨

12. I overheard my parents conversing that they should make me audition for an entertainment company....like what? 😭😭✋🏻 when I asked them once years back they denied giving me a 4 hour lecture and now they wanna make me audition?? Like literally 😭 y'all watch me at the Grammy's (after 5 years lol)

13. Getting into the void on command or intention.

14. I literally get free foods everywhere I go 😭😭

15. I got free gifts from my uncle who's living in France! He works at a fashion company and he sent me perfumes and a few outfits (I can't reveal it I'm sorry)

I ONLY WAS THINKING ABOUT GETTING MY LIP OIL, GETTING CLOSE TO MY CRUSH AND FOCUSING ON MY STUDIES. THE REST, I MANIFESTED WITHOUT THINKING ABOUT IT.

SO WHAT NEXT?

I've decided to respawn to my waiting next month. I'm still scripting how my waiting room should be... So it might take time for me. So till then I'm gonna be strengthening my self concept even more, and also getting more and more excited to be in my waiting room! I want my waiting room to be like a more like a sci fi movie and a princess fairytale combined 😭 (ik I'm weird). Like I just want my favorite anime characters to be there to help me script my DR ✋🏻 So I'm kinda in a more excited mode lately to script my waiting room! Will give you updates on how my waiting room will be in a future post! So until then take care, love you, byeeee byeeee!

- olivia 🤍

[dollcherray]

GREETINGS! I wanted to ask you if you could do a SMG4 x reader who's after the Mr puzzles movie very like VERY traumatized, won't get out from their bed and wouldn't say a word, since Mr puzzles did very horrible things

If you don't want to it's alright!

BTW love all your blogs

୨୧ BINGO BINGO BABY ✮

SMG4 X READER WHO'S SEVERELY TRAUMATIZED

A/N: you guys are making me feel so loved istg</3 btw I LOVE YOU!

Tw: Traumas, Illusions, flashbacks, reader probably has PTSD,if theres any TW missing, pls warn me so i can put it!

type: Headcanons, Fluff/angst, romantic.

Song(s) recommendation: Lucy / Treehouse

୨୧ SMG4 would be a very caring boyfriend, so when he noticed how traumatized you were because of the events of the puzzlevision arc, he would be extra caring for you, trying to make you better in all possible ways.

୨୧ He would do anything, give you gifts, stay with you whenever you needed to, he wouldnt let you be unsupervised for more than 3 hours, hes just too scared to something happening with you that could make you even worse.

୨୧ He would be there for you whenever you just felt the need to talk of how terrifying it was to you, he would hear everything you had to say even if he was in the same events with you, he knows how it feels to have the need to just, let it out so he will be all ears for what you have to say.

୨୧ But when you are eerily quiet, he will be a little more sadder, he enjoyed your voice so much, so he wouldnt really enjoy when you are mute, but would respect it since he knows better than pushing you and making you possibly stressed and worsening things.

୨୧ He would bring anything you needed to the bed, water, food, you name it, he would go to the ends of the earth to get something especific that you asked for, just so that you could feel a bit more at ease.

୨୧ If you have any episodes or illusions, SMG4 would come bursting through walls, doors, or anything on his way just to get to you and hug you to support as much as possible, he would panic, sure, but he would try to keep his cool so he could help you. (even though he has NO idea on how to help you.) if you have any flashbacks of Puzzles, Smg4 would be there to reassure you that he will never come back to hurt you, he wouldnt allow it.

୨୧ He would give you more peace by not taking you in adventures anymore, also would start sleeping with you so that you could feel safe and him unconcerned about any possibility of you having an anxiety attack and to also hold you close to him in his sleep </3 (he feels at peace when holding you)

୨୧ SMG4 would be so worried, so so worried, he really loves you and you were in such degrading situation, he wish he could just take your pain and fear away so that he could only see your eletric way again</3

୨୧ SMG3 would try to help, watching over you when SMG4 couldnt and giving anything you needed while hes gone, Smg3 would just be a tad careless when it comes to trying to help you, since he doesnt have that MUCH worry of SMG4 on helping you, dont get him wrong, you are his friend and all but he's still a little bitch sometimes.

୨୧ SMG4 would miss having you in his adventures, he fears that you can stay like this forever, feared that you would be in a anxious and painful to see state, he would still love you, he will always love you, but what worries him is that you would be in such heartbreaking state forever.

୨୧ Mario is proihibited to enter your room, SMG4 would burn Mario himself if he ever enters there just to bug you or mess around in your room, so if Mario ever tries to sneak in while hes not looking, just text him in one second and in the next second, Mario is being burned alive.

୨୧ ...he already went to find the destroyed TV just to smash it over and over again in pure anger of what Puzzles did to you...👀

୨୧ “I love you, aint that crazy?...”

A/N:oops i did it again... i connected the title with the final quote 👍🏼

[morganski-19]

Robin takes the bag of frozen peas from Steve with a silent thank you. Wrapping it with a tea towel and resting it gently against her throat. Hoping that the swelling would go down and the bruise would fade fast, even though she knew that it wouldn't.

It could be worse. She could have broken bones like Max or torn skin like Steve and Eddie. She could have stopped being able to breathe for more than a few seconds. She could be dead.

Instead, here she is nursing her wounds, as they were, with her best friend who is severely worse than her looking after her. Not in a hospital, but in his house. Because her parents don't need to know this happened to her. The same way she hid the burns from the rope that bound her wrists in the bunker. She'll hide this from them too.

Steve has his own frozen bag of vegetables to his neck, leaning back on the couch to alleviate some of the pressure on his abdomen. Heavily bandaged abdomen. They probably should have gone to a hospital, seen if he needed stitches. But the stubborn asshole didn't want to go, so they didn't. Claimed he could take care of it himself. He always did.

"Is this what it's like?" Robin asks, voice raspy and weak. "Frozen vegetables and empty houses. No doctors hovering over you or government agents secretly experimenting on you."

Steve lets out a small grunt, shifting himself to look at her better. "Pretty much."

Robin snorts, wincing a bit when she does. "Now I know what the great Steve Harrington uses as a cure after battle. Frozen vegetables. What would the people say?"

"That I should go to a hospital, probably," he replies, exhausted.

"At least there's no concussion this time. Or black eye. Nothing messing up this pretty face," she pokes his cheek gently. "You should really see someone about the bites though. Make sure they're not infected."

Steve tries to swallow without wincing. "I know. Just needed a moment to breathe. Too many people at hospitals."

She knows what he means. After the past week, they needed a night before the craziness continued. Until life was forced to move without them wanting it to. Where the consequences came and reality sat in. Where people almost lost were slowly brought back, and they were forced to move on like nothing happened.

They had the scars to remind them. The nightmares. The anxieties that never went away. Their lives were changed. Things can't just revert back to the factory setting.

"How have you done this four times?" Robin asks without really wanting to know the answer. "I can barely wrap my head around doing it twice, let alone four."

"The first time didn't really count," he mumbles. "I just came in at the end. As for the others, you just get used to it. Weird shit shows up, you hit it with something, and it goes away. Until it doesn't."

Robin lets out a long breath. "Sounds like shit."

"It is." His eyes fight to stay open, head halfway fallen onto her shoulder.

"I'll take first watch, you need your sleep." She'll probably crash right after him, but he didn't need to know that. She could be the strong one for a second if it meant he could rest.

Steve takes a deep breath. "You sure."

Robin grabs his wrist, absentmindedly feeling for his pulse. Half relieved when it still thumps under her fingers at a normal rhythm. "Yeah. Get some sleep, you deserve it."

"Thanks. Wake me up if anything happens." He barely finishes the last sentence, eyes finally closing and breaths slowing to a soft, even pace. Robin still able to feel the thumping of his veins through her fingers.

For a brief moment, she can pretend that this is all normal. That this was just a normal night where she and her best friend fell asleep on the couch after watching a movie. After a totally normal night of fun, that didn't risk their lives.

Where there wasn't a bat full of nails resting against the coffee table. Or an ax somewhere in the kitchen waiting to be cleaned. Where she isn't counting the seconds between his breaths or making sure his heart is still pumping. Making sure he's still alive.

Where she'd be able to fall asleep and not risk waking up screaming. Covered in sweat and barely able to breathe. Her wrists wouldn't hurt and her throat wouldn't burn with every breath.

The now warm bag of peas falls off her neck as she leans back. She takes it off and places it to the side, along with Steve's. Pulls him a little closer so he knows that he's not alone. And she does too.

Then finally, she falls asleep. Hoping tomorrow the sun will rise on a better day than today. Time will move on and people will get better. And she'll never have to go through this again.

[violetsaffron5]

In Another Life (5)

Chapter 4 • series masterlist

5 | This Life

Pairing: Gojo x f!Reader and Geto x f!Reader

Satoru comes home and a decision is made

Words: 2.3k

cw: descriptions of panic attack/anxiety

AN: Thank you to everyone who has liked and reblogged this little series, the love means so much, and is really appreciated!

AN2.0: The ending was actually voted on by my twitter followers. Every once in a while I'll post an obscure poll asking something incredibly vague. In this case, I asked people to vote on 1 or 2, and then did a wheel picker to choose if Gojo or Geto was the one who won. So the choice was randomly selected because I couldn't choose.

Taglist • Ao3 • Discord 18+ • Social Media • Series Masterlists

Suguru is the boy who said he loved you in high school. You’re the girl who kissed him and said you love him too.

He’s the boy who defected, killed a village full of people, and you’re the girl who ran to his shattered best friend seeking comfort.

He’s the man who betrayed everything he stood for, you’re the woman who betrayed her betrothed.

Those thoughts stay with you as you enter your penthouse apartment, walk to your room, and stare blankly at your bed. A place that holds so many happy memories from the past several years.

Your mind races with memories of all of the intimate moments you’ve shared with one another in this spot. The times you’ve made love, the times of jealousy or anger - no matter what it’s been, the two of you have always been brought back to one another.

Waking up each day next to Satoru, the soft morning kisses he would place on your lips, running his nose up and down the length of yours until you woke up. 

Building a little fort with your sheets to hide from the golden rays of the early morning sun, giggling about something silly he said, or swapping stories about your students and how proud you are of them.

There are so many things over the past several weeks that could have been handled differently since you received the letter. You could have chosen to ignore it, stay in your blissful life with your fiancé, and have a wonderful wedding ceremony, and life together.

But you didn’t, and now you have to face the consequences of your actions.

With a heavy sigh, you tear your eyes away from the bed and walk into the large bathroom, turning on the shower. There’s an overwhelming desire to wash away the events of what happened tonight.

What you saw.

What you didn’t stop.

The water is warm, cascading down your back as you lean your head against the cool tile of the shower wall.

Other thoughts plague your mind as well; how you’ve missed Suguru more than you’ve let yourself admit these past several years. How your heart fluttered when you went to visit him in his temple.

How he killed an innocent man tonight without a second thought.

Thoughts of how even then, you’re not afraid of Suguru like you should be. How your heart still yearns to be by his side even after tonight.

Time is supposed to heal all wounds - that’s what you’re told at least. But this is more than that.

It’s a hurt in the deepest parts of your soul that doesn’t seem like it’s ever going to go away. No matter how much time you’ve given it. No matter the new love you’ve found.

It’s clear the universe isn’t planning to give you more time to make your decision and sort out your feelings as you sense Satoru walking into your apartment after having been gone for so long.

Of course, he would come home tonight of all nights. When you need to be alone. To think.

You know the reason why he chose to come back tonight. There’s no way he doesn’t know, no way Tokyo Tech wasn’t dispatched to the scene to investigate. Your residuals would have been present, and you’ll have a myriad of questions to answer.

You’ll easily lose your job, the life you have.

Panic begins to set in again and you gasp for air, running your hands over your face and turning the water colder to help try and mitigate the anxiety coursing through your veins.

Before you’ve realized he’s undressed and joined you in the shower, you feel Satoru gently wrap his arms around your waist, pressing his forehead to the back of your head, pulling himself close to you.

You sniffle, taking deep shaky breaths before you’re able to speak, “Satoru, I-”

“Shhh,” He hums quietly next to your ear before pressing kisses to your shoulder, neck, and back.

Satoru turns you around, pressing his soft lips to yours, letting his fingers gently graze over the still peaks of your nipples before you pull away abruptly. He furrows his brows, looking over your features quickly.

“Satoru, I-” Your voice is shaky, hoarse from crying, “I’m a mess right now.”

“I know,” He answers quietly, thumb tracing your jaw and lips, moving hair away from your face, “We’ll figure it out. All of it.”

Your heart breaks at his words, knowing he chose to come home to you despite your recent decisions and betrayals.

Because Satoru does love you. You gave him a life he never thought possible, a love he never thought possible because of who and what he is.

Several tears well in your eyes as he leans down and kisses you again. This time you let him, because this is how he’s always shown his love for you, and because you do love him too.

His hands run down your sides, squeezing your ass before lifting you, carrying you out of the shower, and laying you on the bed gently.

You leave your arms wrapped around his neck while he focuses on massaging your waist, hips, and thighs. It takes hardly anything at all for Satoru’s touch to work its magic.

No matter your mood, how upset or angry, the slightest touch of his nimble fingers always sends a shiver down your spine and straight to your core.

He kisses a few spots along your jaw before turning your head, slotting his lips between your own, tongue swiping along your bottom lip for access - you grant it, you always have.

Before long, you’re on top of him, rocking your hips as he watches you in pure awe, appreciation, and adoration.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly moves his hands around your body, feeling every inch of exposed skin in his large hands before leaning up, ghosting his lips against your neck, shoulders, and chest, his thumbs gently brushing past your hardened nipples.

You gasp when he pinches them between his fingers harder than expected and he watches, drinking you in like it’s the first time all over again.

He alternates, between pinching and licking each of your breasts as you continue to leisurely rock your hips against him. The two of you have made love before, but never like this.

It’s beautiful and slow, sensual in a way you’ve never experienced with him before. Like he’s giving you a part of himself that he’s never shown before. You’re speaking with your bodies, listening to each other’s heartbeats and labored breaths each time you take each other in.

Leaning back on one arm, he grabs your hip with the other, helping you move just slightly faster as his gaze trails down to where you’re connected; butterflies form in your stomach as he drags his knuckle over your abdomen, soaking in the sight of you, encircling your clit. 

Your eyes are locked together, half-lidded, full of love, but he doesn’t dare break away, even as he tenderly presses his lips to yours, expressions drunk with desire and gratification for one another.

You press your foreheads together, sharing breaths, bodies glistening in sweat, hips flowing and ebbing into one another. You thread your fingers through his soft pale hair, as he thrusts his hips, diving deeper.

Your thighs begin to tremble, and he groans when you clench around him and he knows you're close, rolling his hips until he’s hitting the spot that has you whimpering into him with each thrust.

“Satoru,” you murmur, “I’m s-so close.”

He takes a deep breath, sharpening his movements, “Me too, baby.”

The intimate exchange is enough to push you both over the edge, unraveling into each other’s arms at the same time. He peppers your face with little kisses as he pulls out with a wince, rolling over and pulling you into his chest.

“I used to daydream about this,” Satoru admits quietly, holding you close, like he never wants to let go, “About being with you.”

“Oh,” You answer surprised, “I had no idea.”

Satoru chuckles, lacing his fingers with yours, “I never told you or anyone, really. Never thought I would need to.”

You take in his words as the two of you lay in comfortable silence, listening to each other's heartbeats and shallow breaths until you feel the twitching of Satoru’s hand, indicating he’s fallen asleep.

Satoru breaths slowly, and steadily as you watch his soft, snow-like lashes fluttering against his cheeks. You’ll always be grateful for the love you’ve shared, and the time you’ve been able to spend together.

You know what life with him will be like. Safe, committed, filled with love, laughter, and adventure. The letter told you precisely what to expect. A beautiful life anyone would dream of with a man who has done nothing but love you through all of your ups and downs.

But the letter never mentioned Suguru. What came of him, where did he go?

You swallow thickly because deep down, in the depths of your heart, you know. And the thought brings tears to the corner of your eyes that you quickly and quietly wipe away.

If you and Satoru were able to have such a beautiful life together, Suguru didn’t make it.

Did he try to bring the world to its knees, to have a world where Sorcerers are no longer living in plain sight but are the only ones remaining?

You don’t know and that hurts more than anything.

But you can.

2017 

You’re back in a place you haven’t been to or seen in years. A place that used to be a second home.

You’re watching from a distance as Suguru declares war on Kyoto and Shinjuku. A decision you tried your hardest to talk him out of, only to land on deaf ears.

Satoru stands listening, but you can feel his gaze shift to you. He’s changed his look. No longer wearing the little black sunglasses you used to love on him, but rather choosing to cover his eyes with white bandages.

You wonder what the reason for the change was but know you’ll never get the pleasure of finding out.

“You’re both going to die,” Satoru says, just loud enough for you to hear him once Suguru turns his back to the crowd that’s gathered. “You do realize that, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” You answer quietly, pursing your lips and nodding your head, taking several steps toward him.

Satoru stays quiet, but you can feel the intensity of his eyes on you. Not with hatred, but a longing for understanding, on why you left and chose Suguru, a criminal, a murderer, over him.

“It was always going to be him,” You say just as Satoru opens his mouth to speak. “From the moment I saw the envelope, the moment I read what was said- I,” you take a breath, trying to find the right words, “I’m sorry. I never apologized to you for leaving, and I just want it to be known now. Before all of this comes to an end.”

The last night you spent with Satoru, you made beautiful love, telling each other how much you mean to one another and showing it in a way you never had before, but once he fell asleep, you crawled out of his grasp leaving behind the life you’ve created and everything you stood for.

After packing a bag, you left your engagement ring and the letter on your nightstand, hoping it would serve to answer his questions. On why you had been acting strangely, why things had been so difficult for you, and ultimately why you left.

Because you didn’t have the courage to tell him on your own.

“Yeah, I figured as much.” Satoru chuckles, thumb scratching his eyebrow as he sighs heavily. “Do you regret leaving behind the life we were building?”

Satoru questioned if the letter was really from yourself, or if it was an elaborate plan to lead you astray until he spent some time inspecting the letter. There were traces of residual energy that looked like yours, just older, along with another sorcerer he didn’t recognize.

What he didn’t expect was to find his own.

And the realization dawned on him that despite the love the two of you shared, your hurt would never go away, no matter how hard he fought to get you back.

So he let you go.

“It was a hard adjustment at first. Having to set aside the morals and values I held so close to me- that we shared- but it got easier. I’ve laid awake at night for hours wondering this same exact thing but I can never bring myself to regret choosing Suguru.”

Taking a deep breath, you take a few steps toward Satoru. You know he won’t harm you and that he’ll have his infinity off. He watches from beneath his bandages and you find yourself wishing you could see his eyes one last time while you press a tender kiss to his cheek, “Goodbye, Satoru.”

You give him a wistful smile before walking away to join Suguru’s side, knowing the next time you see your ex-fiance, a man you once loved, it’ll be your last.

Satoru watches as you make your way back to Suguru, who offers his hand, helping you climb the back of his curse before taking off, flying high in the sky. You know Satoru can see you from the distance and you can just make out his figure below as you give him one last tender smile.

Life with Satoru would have been grand and adventurous. He wouldn’t let any moment between the two of you go dull. You’ve loved him and you still do.

After you left, you found yourself wondering what life would have been like if you stayed. Would you have found yourself writing the same letter to send to your past? Would you have moved on with less regret knowing you put your past behind you and looking to the future?

You’ll never know.

All you can do now is accept your choices and spend as much time with Suguru as possible before your inevitable demise.

You’ll spend your last remaining moments taking your girls shopping and to Takeshita Street to get crepes like they want. Order pizza, watch TV, holding the little family you chose close each and every night.

There’s only one thing you’re certain of during these times:

You would make the same choices all over again if it led you here.

@s-witch-bitch @watyousayin @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @ritsatoru @faewithsnakes @lex-dear @hvziers @babybae-shisui @saiewithakatana @yihona-san06 @shartnart1 @lilith412426 @ambersea7 @ikilledsparky2 @creolequeen11210 @ichigojamjam @simpfully-heartbroken @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @shan-nein @witchbybirth @myabae @lilacsinjuly @mshope16

[wndaswife]

gerri fields headcanons

really good with directions and navigation. when you go out together she’s always the one who has google maps on her phone telling you which train and bus tickets to buy etc

not the best with writing letters, but when writing songs for you, she’s incredibly well-spoken and really, really creative

when watching movies or shows with you, she’s always the most opinionated about infidelity or any other form of betrayal between partners or friends and has gone on several spiels about it while you’re watching with her. she has high standards set on friendships and close relationships and sees them as objective

would definitely help you move a couch into your new apartment (with help) and would also buy the most gorgeous lamp for your living room as a housewarming gift

is really fucking good at super mario kart because she’s had a long history with the game playing with her younger brother and cousins years ago. always chooses either luigi or koopa troopa. she’s good at a lot of board games too, and has beat you in battleship every time you play together

can be very anxious at times and initially feels ashamed and confused by her first panic attack. she considers herself to be a very laidback person who lets things happen as they naturally do, and isn’t completely educated on anxiety. by the time she has a panic attack in front of you due to a stressful situation that’s been eating at her for weeks, she tries her best to level her breathing and tells you that it’ll pass as it’s happened several times prior. you comfort her and have gerri understand that it’s completely normal and not anything to feel ashamed of, and especially that it doesn’t make her weak

has been wanting to get into repairing guitars and finds it really relaxing once she gets into repairing her own. you like to lay on her bed while she sits at her desk repairing some of the guitars from some other guitarists she’s met at local live music performances. i can vividly imagine quiet music playing in the background while you scroll through your phone with gerri sitting across the room at her desk with her hair up while she changes and tunes acoustic guitar strings and occasionally talking with each other or when you want to show her videos on your phone. that goes on for about two hours before gerri gets hungry and you go for a walk to get take out and watch a movie together back home

can be kind of unrealistic at times because she has such a hard time envisioning the future. even with small things like making plans for the following week or a few days away, she feels no urgency to plan and would always rather figure things out as they come, which can sometimes be frustrating as it makes it a little hard to make plans with her. it’s not because she’s lazy or purposefully difficult, but it’s just that gerri is so present-focused that it doesn’t come naturally to her to make any sort of long-term plans

but also, gerri can be a huge dreamer who can at times face difficulty focusing on reality. with some things, she can’t be bothered even trying to imagine a future because she’s just so unconcerned with things that don’t involve the present. but with things she’s passionate about, she can be incredibly idealistic while forgetting the reality of things. it’s admirable though, because gerri can sometimes talk for a very long time about the kind of life she wants to live away from home in an apartment of her own while continuing to play live music, to live in a nice place and can even plan down to the decor in her future living room, but can completely forget things like needing to work in order to be able to reach those things. but you love hearing her dreams and things she’s passionate about so much, and you always indulge in her idealism. she likes that about you too

similarly, gerri is a huge romantic. she loves with everything in her because she knows absolutely no restraint in romance and her dreams

[altschmerzes]

🌹🌹 Wriggle Up and/or New York Minute pleassssse 🙏

yesssss okay new york minute has taken over my brain for a moment so i'll go with an excuse to share some of that one

('new york minute' is my first fic for the bear, btw, it is a cousin michelle from the christmas episode pov of The Whole New York Debacle. as always i am really really anxious taking my first try at character voices, and picking a pov character who is a minor side character in one (1) episode has been both freeing and anxiety provoking LMAO. so. here's this.)

(also it's.... long. we know this about me and clips.)

As soon as Carmy is under her roof, safely tucked away in her guest room, Michelle takes what feels like her first full breath in since Christmas. It’s not like everything is magically okay now - Carmy certainly isn’t okay, and he’s just one little piece of the whole fucked up puzzle, but she’s finally done something about it. Michelle has found the one piece of that puzzle that she can do anything about at all and she’s done it. That’s the part that’s driven her the most out of her mind - knowing that things need to be done, that nothing is alright in Chicago, and not knowing what to do. Who to try and help, never mind how.

Natalie has Pete and her friends from school. She’s got a home and distance and she’d mentioned while on a walk with Michelle, looking away like she wasn’t sure what the response would be, that she had started therapy after Thanksgiving. And Michael has… Well. When they talk on the phone, Natalie doesn’t have a lot to say about Michael that’s encouraging. Michelle is worried about Michael but it’s not like she can do anything about that. They were close when they were younger but the older they got and the more Donna took a shine to her the more strained her relationship with Michael got. They were a competition of their own, really, or at least a battlefield on the war between their mothers.

Grandpa Berzatto, right? Michael Berzatto. A looming figure gone before any of her generation was born, and so of course the oldest grandchild is named after him - both of them were, at the beginning and the end of the same year, one down each branch of the family tree. Michael and Michelle. They thought it was funny when they were younger. Used to tell people they were twins, when they were real little. It’s not like that anymore. At least Richie is there, though. At least Richie is always there.

Thank god for Richie, said almost no one ever and Michelle several times over the course of her life.

One time, she was seventeen and going out with a guy who was far too old for her and a massive asshole on top of that. When she finally dumped him and his reaction scared her enough to tell them what was going on, Michael and Richie got a baseball bat and a tire iron out of the garage and broke every window and light cover on the guy’s car. Richie took one of the pieces from the tail-light to wood shop class the next day and while the teacher was off making sure some sophomores didn’t lose any fingers using a table saw, he sanded down the edges and put a hole through it, then gave it to her on a keychain. Michelle still has it somewhere. Michelle still has that keychain somewhere and Richie still has Michael and so that’s one thing she doesn’t have to worry about not being able to fix.

So there’s nothing to do for any of them, because Natalie is going to be okay in ways that even Michelle isn’t, and Michael is out of her reach, and Donna is out of everyone’s reach. (Donna needs help. She’s obviously suffering and needs some serious help, but Michelle learned long ago with her own mother that there’s no forcing help on someone who won’t accept it and will stop speaking to you for months if you try to push it anyway.)

But Carmy… Carmy is in her guest room and it’s still pretty early but she thinks he’s asleep and this she can do. This, him, Michelle can help.

(Michael caught her on the way out, when she and Stevie were leaving. She was worried for a moment, because he had that intense look on his face that meant trouble could be coming, and when he said heard you asked Carm to come stay with you for a few days in New York she steeled her nerves for one last explosion for the road. Michael was silent and Michelle was silent and he still had a hold of her arm but he wasn’t squeezing or anything so she let him keep his hand for now. And then he just said Good. Get him the fuck out of here and do not let him come back. Then he gave her a hug so tight she couldn’t breathe and kissed her on the cheek and said love you, Mitch and he was gone.)

[lively-potter]

— moon struck ; part 7

— genre ; strangers to friends to lovers, kinda grumpy x sunshine, fluff, angst, smut, angst with a happy ending 🥹

— warnings ; body insecurities ( mentioned ), eating disorder ( mentioned ), oc deals with a severe amount of anxiety and panic attacks, violence, smut ( later ), FLUFF, love struck jungkookie 🥹

— find me on Wattpad ; LivelyPotter

— word count ; 2.4k

— intro , part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six

— 2024 © LivelyPotter all rights reserved

— taglist ; @ahgasegotarmy116 @jk97bam

river's pov ; three pm

My stomach grumbled lowly, but I paid it no mind.

Instead, I turned my awe filled eyes down to a sleeping Moon – who decided to make my boobs her pillow.

Sang smiled softly at me and layed her head on my shoulder. "Brandon's planning on stopping by and staying with you while I'm gone helping Corey and Raven with an assignment."

"So he'll be staying with me for pickup?' relief relaxed my body. With Brandon here, I knew I wouldn't be as terrified as I would be if I was alone. My brother is one of the only people who who really calm me down and give me strength when I felt like I was failing ( but where Jungkook was concerned, I definitely was ).

Sang giggled, "He will. So you won't have to face Jungkook alone."

I tightened my hold on Moon, just holding the adorable baby just a little bit closer to me. Her little lips smacked sleepily when she nuzzled against my boobs.

I shook my head in amusement. Adorable baby.

"Yeah." That was totally true.

A flush decorated my cheeks when my mind went back to the dream I had. And hours before that; when my hands got burned.

Speaking of burned hands, the blisters had gotten way better after Sean stopped by the house this morning and applied some ointment onto my hands and wrapped them. According to him, I could take the bandages off tonight – but as of right now, I needed to let the ointment sink into my skin.

Gently rocking Moon back and forth, my thumb rubbed over her little rosy cheek in awe, completely in love with this adorable, sweet baby.

I hummed lowly, hugging her against my chest.

Sang watched the scene in front of her with a large sweet smile and took a seat beside me on the beanbag.

"So...has he texted you anymore?"

You just had to go there, didn't you?

I avoided her eyes, feeling my cheeks head, and decided to give my attention to Moon.

"Uh, yeah." I admitted, a shy grin coming over my lip – hiding from her. "A little bit."

"Like what?" her tone was teasing.

"...well he said it was okay that I replied a day or so late...and he apologized again for the whole oven incident even though it wasn't his fault." I explained, "It was mine. I wasn't paying attention when I should have and stupidly grabbed the freaking pan with my bare hands."

"Maybe he just wants to keep the conversation going," she said, "We all know he likes you–seems very interested—"

"River doesn't need all that in her life, sweetie." Brandon made his appearance. I sucked in a sharp breath, holding Moon tighter against me as my heart thumped crazily. She shifted a little in my arms, but otherwise remained unbothered.

"Shit!" Sang clutched her heart with widened eyes, "Where did you come from?" she asked her boyfriend. Brandon grinned and dropped a brown paper bag on the low table in front of me.

"Eat, Riv." he pointed to me, cerulean blue eyes drifting towards Sang. "I walked through the door. You just didn't notice me come in." he snickered, dropping a kiss on her lips.

While they greeted one another, I couldn't help but think over his words. River doesn't need all that in her life. He can't decide for me. Annoyance burned my insides causing me to glare at my brother out of the corner of my eye.

I held onto Moon gently, protectively, shielding her from my brother's eyes.

"What do you mean by that?" I couldn't help but snap – the anger in my voice couldn't be ignored.

Bradon and Sang's head swiveled in my direction, eyes widened at my anger. I glared at my brother, warning him to spew even more shit.

Brandon opened and closed his mouth, searching for something today. Meanwhile Sang moved to stand behind him, rifling through some paperwork, hiding a pleased smirk. I knew she was listening closer than Brandon thought she was.

Just who did he think he was?

Don't get me wrong – I loved my brother and I'm grateful for all he's done to me. But he doesn't get to control my life. He doesn't get to decide what's bad or good for me without my consent.

"Well?" I insisted, eyes squinting, prodding at him to say something.

Brandon sighed heavily and leveled me with stern glare. "I'm only looking out for you, River." he said, peeking down at the child in my arms. "You're almost twenty years old – young, you have an entire beautiful life ahead of you...and Jungkook...well..." he hesitated for a slight moment.

I nodded at him to continue, my anger not leaving but rising.

"The man is twenty-six years old. He's divorced and has a baby, River. He's basically already went through life, if you really think about it — marriage, kids, collage — you name it — he's probably experienced it. And if you ever decided to be in a relationship with him, you'll always be fifth in line to him, River. He's got his daughter to think of, his family, his job, and his ex-fucking-wife. Do you want to got through life knowing you'll always be fifth to him?"

Emotion clogged my throat.

Fifth.

That hurt. Way more than it should – especially if it was Brandon saying it.

Yeah. Jungkook didn't really need to add me and my problems in his life at this point. I wouldn't be any good for Jungkook, anyway. He's way too good for someone like me.

My brother's face crumbled in sadness, knowing that his words hurt. By now, Sang watched me over Brandon's shoulder sadly, her usual happy eyes dimming. My eyes slightly glossed over and before I could lost even more control over my emotions, I turned my face downwards and watched Moon.

Fifth.

"...I'm sorry, Pixie." Brandon spoke sadly, "It's just–you're my little sister...and I want you to be happy...and I...I don't want you to be fifth to anyone. Ever. You deserve to be loved, cherished, thought of constantly...and you deserve a fresh start in life. Where you can meet someone, fall in love, get married – and hell, even have babies of your own. Your own family." he said, patting the top of my head, eyes watching me closely. "I just don't want you regretting anything years later without thinking everything through."

I nodded quietly.

"Yeah." I forced out, making my eyes never waver from Moon's face. I sought comfort in her cuddles and in her presence while the air between my brother and I grew stifling.

But, as I sat there, in my own world, the insecure thoughts that constantly plagued me for most of my life broke out from the box I had shut them in years ago.

The feelings of those emotions and thoughts was overwhelming, and every limb shook.

It was even harder to breathe than normal.

I sucked in lungfuls of air slowly, to not arouse suspicion in my brother and anchored myself to Moon to grasp ahold of myself.

river's pov ; five pm

Two hours passed by slowly.

And I was sinking further into myself, allowing those same emotions that tore me down, time and time again, chip away at the shields I used to protect myself.

I was in a daze – hardly becoming alert to anything.

Even Jungkook.

My eyes were blank from emotion when he walked inside with a bright grin and a happy disposition, finding me instantly. I silently handed him a happy Moon and walked away to pack her bag.

His smile dimmed and his eyes grew confused at my odd actions.

Brandon followed after me closely, hardly allowing me personal space as he spoke calming words into my ears. I was close to wanting to shut down and blank out for a while.

Jungkook watched me closely, his chunky combat boots thumping heavily on the ground when I hugged Brandon in thanks, Moon's backpack in my hand, before resuming my stride to him.

"So, uh, how was she?" Jungkook scratched at the back of his neck, sending me a shy smile, boba eyes gleaming when I focused my attention on him.

I forced a tiny smile and avoided his eyes, feeling agony flare inside my heart.

Why did this hurt so bad? I wasn't fully sure if I really really liked him. But now I would have to let him go and move on with my life.

Isn't this happening too fast and not crash down on me so suddenly?

"She was perfect." I ground out, wanting nothing more to cuddle into his waist, like Moon, and sob. Even though I avoided him like the plague, I still knew more than I ought to about him, so I knew that he was good at comforting people. And he was warm. So warm. Maybe it would melt away the ice that seemed to make my limbs grow stiff and cold. "...As always."

Anyone could detect the hidden sadness in my voice.

Why was I acting like this in front of him? I didn't want to.

Stupid heart. Stupid emotions. Stupid me.

Jungkook hoisted his little daughter further up his chest and watched me, perfectly dark arched brow drawing together, silver piercing catching the light. His pink lips parted, licking at the double hoops threaded through his lips and gulped slightly.

"What's wrong, River?" he asked softly, voice growing quieter when he took a step closer to me, the toes of his shoes softly touching mine. His tattooed hand carefully reached out and stopped inches from my own, hesitating.

Oh god.

With him watching me with such a soft look in his eyes, the feelings I tried so hard to mask, to hide, to disappear, came upon me in less than a second. They hit me harder than I could have ever imagined – and I stumbled back, fingers tingling with the effort to not reach out and brush my hand along his.

All I could seem to think about was him. Him. Him. Him. Him.

I sucked in a sharp breath, tears stinging my eyes as another thought hit me.

Brandon's words.

My own insecurities.

I was fooling myself into thinking–...nevermind.

I would be nothing but a burden to him – he's got enough to worry about.

Wouldn't be good for him.

No.

No.

No.

"I'm fine." I whispered weakly.

I'm not. I'm really not. Just hold me and make me forget everything.

Please.

It hurts.

It became harder to breathe. My lungs expanded to gulp down more air, but it was a futile effort. My knees shook underneath my weight.

If I didn't get out of here soon, I'd fall.

Everything I'd been trying so hard to push away, came crashing down the moment I was in his presence, walls down for the first time in years. Brandon's words damaged them...I was weak, healing, in the process of rebuilding...and then he came in.

And tore them down. Completely.

I was vulnerable.

My eyes met his in a silent plead.

I just wanted to go home and cuddle with Kingston.

Hold me. Make me forget. It hurts.

"River?" His strong, gentle voice made me break even more. It took every ounce of strength inside my body not to crumble. "Nae Sarang, what's the matter?"

I cried a little more on the inside.

Moon sleepily nuzzled into Jungkook neck's and cutely tugged on the multiple earrings in his ears, momentarily taking his attention. "Shhh, baby, just a moment." he cooed to his baby, nuzzling his nose with hers, worry still apparent in his eyes when he turned his eyes to me.

My limbs grew colder. I was reminded. I shouldn't bring him into my problems. He didn't deserve that. He's got sweet little Moon and his own life to worry about. Fifth. Fifth. Fifth.

Despite the agony within my heart and in my soul, I blinked away the tears.

"I have to close in a few minutes." my voice didn't sound like my own. It was detached and just plain sad.

And even he noticed.

His doe eyes grew panicked and he slowly nodded, "...oh...okay." he let out, body towering over mine. I could still feel him peeking down at me shyly as I died just a little more on the inside.

He licked his lips again and swallowed, big hand falling onto Moon's back, rubbing her little shoulders gently. Looking like he was thinking of what to say, I backed away.

I have to get out of here. Away from him. Gain control of myself.

Jungkook took a step after me, and although he looked shy – which contrasted to his appearance – he looked determined.

"No." he spoke firmly, yet gentle, "You're not fine, Nae Sarang." I gulped as the tears stung my eyes once more. Jungkook saw my eyes glaze over and stopped. His stern expression crumbled, and now he only looked worried.

"How about you come with Moon and I...to the italian restaurant and we'll talk, yeah?"

My head bowed as a tear fled my eye and dropped onto the top of his shiny black combat boot. A sniffle left my nose, and i berated myself for it.

"...I..." it was going to hurt saying this. "I...can't." I shook my head and turned around so my back faced him. "I'm sorry. I have to go."

I couldn't stand to be in this room any longer.

I ran out of the room, baspassing my distressed brother, and hightailed it to the bathroom at the back of the building.

My body shook with the effort.

I sobbed quietly into my hands and slid to the ground, unable to hold myself up any longer. My heart beat unnaturally fast – too fast.

I wrapped my arms around my knees and fought to catch my breath.

The tears just wouldn't stop flowing.

My arms and legs trembled violently in my grip, and I felt like I was losing myself.

In the throes of my misfortune, familiar arms wound around me and cradled my face.

"Shhh, River." cerculean blue eyes gazed into my own – only theirs were more panicked than mine was.

"Breathe, Riv – you gotta breathe."

"Brandon." his name left my mouth in a shallow gasp. I clutched onto his shirt and let him ground me for the time being. "Brandon." I sniffled, severely out of breath.

I laid against him, entirely exhausted by everything.

Brandon picked up my limp body and carried me outside while I watched the sky darken with only one thought on my mind.

My eyes were now opened.

author's note ; ✨

🥲

[sarahsmileslikesarahd0esntcare]

A Poet Could Not But Be Gay — part 2

Part 1

Pairing: college!au Ellie Williams x f!reader

summary: You and Ellie text after you like her post and see each other in class again. You talk to each other, slowly growing closer.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: mutual pining, reader has no rizz, anxiety, English class

a/n: M (minors and men) DNI, please! Y'all I can't believe you guys gave me 34 notes on my first-ever fic!!! I'm literally on top of the world and it really motivated me to write another chapter so here it is!! 😁

-------------------------------------

Ellie Williams: Hey stalker (;

You were frozen. Your breath had caught in your throat and you felt your entire body burning up as though you'd throw up at any second. Your phone screen had gone black by then and you only had time to blink before another notification came in.

Ellie Williams added you as a friend.

Finally, you were able to breathe. What the fuck is happening!? you thought. She has to be playing some kind of prank on me 'cause no one should be this cool about a random girl like a — how old was it? 5-week-old picture!

You decided that the best thing to do was to respond. She already knew you were online and you would only look more guilty if you ignored her. Ellie had caught you red-handed, sure, but she didn't need to know why you were looking her up. You started typing, probably taking way longer than you should to write a simple text.

you: hey! sorry i was just struggling with the homework and youre the only person i knew from that class so i looked you up

you: how are you handling the last minute assignment she sent us?

Really? A double text seconds after I was caught stalking her? I'm fucking dead. Every second that passed by felt like an hour. You were biting your nails, staring at the screen impatiently. She hadn't even seen it yet and you felt like she was judging you through the phone. After one minute, she opened the chat and started typing. Looking at those three taunting dots, you couldn't help but imagine all the texts she could be writing. Nightmarish thoughts were flying through your brain when her text finally appeared.

Ellie Williams: Oh fuck I hadn't even seen that email! What kind of psychopath of a teacher sends an assignment at 6pm?

You let out a relieved sigh, thankful she hadn't asked any questions regarding your lie. Your shaking thumbs started typing but you received another text.

Ellie Williams: And who even has a favourite poem to write 500 words about

Ellie Williams: Well you definitely do

You had to read that twice. She remembers about my poem. Your small smile grew into a grin, and the little exhale from your nose grew into a fit of giggles. You rolled onto your back before remembering you had to answer her.

you: im glad i was able to tell you about the assignment! and yeah i have a favourite poem and i absolutely LOVE telling people about it but i know how scatterbrained i can be so idk if ill be able to make sense

The two of you texted back and forth for a few minutes but your shyness held you back and your conversation eventually dwindled. After several minutes of radio silence on both ends, your phone vibrated again.

Ellie Williams: Well I'm gonna start writing that paper but I'll see you on Wednesday!

you: good luck with that!

you: cant wait to see you again :)

You held your breath, frightened by your boldness.

Ellie Williams: Don't miss me too much (;

You honestly thought you could have died at that moment. And there was that winking face again. You couldn't believe your clumsy mistake had led you to have an actual conversation! Outside of school! Sure it was mainly about your shared class but now it felt more personal. She wasn't just "Ellie, the hot girl from my poetry class" anymore. She was Ellie Williams, the charming girl you'd met in class and befriended and fell in love with and moved in with and married and — ok now. I shouldn't get ahead of myself. I don't even know her favourite colour yet. I don't even know if she likes girls, let alone me!

You decided that the best thing for you to do now was to focus on your assignment. It wouldn't take very long but at least it would keep your mind occupied for a little while.

Though the poem was about the beauty of nature and all it has to offer, you couldn't help but relate every verse to Ellie.

"they / Out-did the sparkling waves in glee" Ellie outdoes everyone and everything. There was not a single thing you could think of that you would rather look at than Ellie. There was no sound you'd rather hear than her laugh and no word you'd rather read than hers. I'm so fucking gay, it's ridiculous, you thought.

Some verses you felt rather poetic about, while others felt like they were describing the slight gay panic you'd had upon first seeing her, "I gazed — and gazed — but little thought". That's exactly how you'd felt. You'd stared at her sheer beauty and focused on nothing but her. The only thing you could remember from your time staring at her was the warmth that had formed in your belly and the tingling in your face.

You had known this girl for barely 8 hours and you could already see her in everything. Fuck, this is gonna hurt.

-------------------------------------

Tuesday was somewhat uneventful. You'd been awoken by your alarm once again and had rolled over to check your phone. You were barely awake when you saw that Ellie had changed your name on messenger to "y/n🌸". Has she been thinking about me? you thought with a grin plastered to your face. Before you had time to overthink, you quickly changed her name to "Ellie 😉".

Neither of you texted the other again until Wednesday. It was a cool and cloudy day meaning everything had grey undertones and you refused to let yourself darken because of some stupid clouds. That's why you chose to wear your long sleeve, bright yellow shirt underneath short, green overalls.

The sky might be grey and sad but I'm looking like a ray of fucking sunshine! you told yourself in the mirror. The colour you wore made you feel invincible, as though you could conquer the world and make it bright again.

Eventually, after an interminable lecture, you were sat at your seat in your and Ellie's shared class, awaiting the girl herself. To busy yourself, you started taking out your books and laptop, putting your pens neatly out onto your side of the desk. While you were distracted, Ellie walked into the class.

Ellie's thoughts

Ellie's mind was racing, trying to figure out what to say to you when she saw you. She knew she would say hi; that was a given. But what then? She didn't want to just be an acquaintance to you. She wanted to be on your mind as much as you were on hers, which was constantly. Dreams of you consumed her nights which she loved until she woke up and realized you had barely talked to each other.

When she walked into the classroom, she nearly froze in the doorframe. Of course, she thought, on a gross day like this, she has to look like a ray of fucking sunshine. It was as though you were trying to make her fall head over heels for you.

When she started walking normally again, your head popped up and a genuine smile graced your lips. Ellie felt like the Earth had stopped spinning and smiled back with false confidence. She sat down next to you and told you her scripted, "Hi," in her usual, honeyed voice, adding an improvised, "how you doing?", proud she hadn't stumbled over her words.

"Hi," you answered, voice quieter than hers, "I'm doing pretty good. I actually finished the assignment on time, so the semester's off to a good start!" you said with a laugh.

Ellie laughed back, happy you had initiated a topic so she would get to keep talking with you. "Wow! Three whole days in and no late assignments yet! I'm extremely impressed." she replied, the glee evident in her tone.

You giggled and said, "You should be!"

There was a beat of silence and she was scared you had run your conversation to its course before it had even started. Then you surprised her by asking, "How have you been?"

She looked up at you, taking a few seconds to admire every line and curve in your face. "Oh, you know," she said, "I've been busier now that school started up again but I've been good." She paused for a second and continued, "I haven't been too busy to figure it out though."

A smile crept onto your face and she thanked her lucky stars that she'd kept talking. "Figure what out?" you asked.

With slightly shaking hands she hoped you wouldn't notice, she reached out to your arm and pushed up the sleeve of your shirt to reveal the tattoo you'd shown her. "This," she said looking back up, her eyes boring into yours, "It's Wordsworth right?" You nod and she goes on, "That's a sick name for a poet. I read the poem and I have to say, you've got some good taste, pretty girl." The name just slipped out of her mouth. Her eyes widened and she noticed your smile falter. She pulled away from your arm.

She cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure but you spoke before she could, "I feel like with a name like that, he couldn't really go into any other profession, you know." you laughed dryly, clearly trying to ease the tension.

She laughed the same dry laugh and let out a quiet, "Yeah, he had to go into writing."

Luckily, your awkward moment only lasted a short time and Ellie was saved from any further embarrassment as your professor began her lecture.

About 30 minutes into the lecture, Ellie was flipping the pages of her textbook like crazy, trying to find the poem the class was discussing. She figured you had noticed her struggling because you tapped her on the arm and whispered the page number. She thanked you and started flipping to that page. In doing so, however, a page managed to slice through her skin, causing her to flinch and immediately suck on her cut.

She was cursing the paper when you tapped her arm again. She turned to you, finger still between her lips. You gave her a small smile and lifted something in your hand, "Do you need a bandaid?" you whispered. How could she say no when you were looking at her like that, big doe eyes full of concern.

She took her finger out of her mouth and agreed with a low, "Sure". Before she could do anything else, you grabbed her hand and wrapped the bandaid around her injured finger. Ellie could only stare at you, marveling at the care you gave to such a minor cut. "Thanks, y/n" she whispered. She thought she may have caught a glimpse of a blush on your cheeks but you had turned your head too quickly for her to tell for sure.

When she picked up her pen, she got her first good look at what you'd wrapped around her finger and laughed to herself. Of fucking course this personified beam of sunlight would carry around flower bandaids. I'm never taking this off. she thought as she admired her finger.

Back to your thoughts

You were looking up front but your mind was nowhere near whatever subject the professor was talking about. I touched Ellie! you though. Not the other way around! I touched her arm and then her hand! I'm gonna pass out. You were ecstatic, to say the least. You couldn't wait to call Taylor and tell her everything that happened during this second class with Ellie.

Soon enough, the class ended and you started packing your books. You got up, still giddy from excitement, and got ready to say goodbye to Ellie. She stood up after a few moments and spoke first, "So I was thinking," she said, her usual confidence seemingly vanished, "if you wanted to study or do assignments for this class, I'm free in the afternoon on Thursdays. We could meet in the library if you want. Or not even necessarily for this class, like, we could study for any class together if that was something you were interested in."

You gave her a quick open-mouthed smile. "Yeah!" you beamed, "Yeah that definitely sounds good. I know a secret spot in the library nobody ever goes to so we won't even need to worry about other people."

"Sounds great. I'll see you tomorrow then."

You both hesitated a little before moving to leave the classroom, and then again in the hallway, not sure of where the other was going. Seemingly amused by this, judging by the smirk on her face, Ellie put her hand on the small of your back, guided you in the direction you'd been headed in, and walked backward in the opposite direction.

"Bye, pretty girl!"

-------------------------------------

Part 3

a/n: I got a little carried away in this one... Did you see how much touching there was! Whoo, that was borderline smut! But I told you there would be more talking! Also, I am obsessed with Romantic poetry, specifically William Wordsworth so sorry if there was too much of him in this chapter but I really love his work! You guys should all read "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud". It's a really short poem that may or may not have made me shed a tear. Anyway, leave any ideas you have for this story in the comments! I can't wait to see what you think!!

ps: lemme know if you wanna get tagged in the next one!

tags: @lonelyfooryouonly

[lightningshow]

An Open Reflection of my Growth in 2023

This has been the year of me getting real with myself. Real about my goals, my wants, my needs, my emotions, my thought patterns, etc. I feel like for a while I was using denial to protect myself from the reality of my poor mental health, but this past year I've really had to be honest with myself in order to grow. I feel like this mindset shift has led to the most amount of self growth in a year that I've ever experienced. Genuinely, I feel like an entirely different person than I did a year ago, in an entirely positive way. I'm much happier than I've ever been. (Full reflection under cut)

In Fall/Winter of 2022 I underwent a course of therapy designed to help me process and accept the traumatic events I went through in high school. I don't know why, but I had really brushed off how things like my eating disorder and self harm had affected me in the long term. And of course I was actively in an abusive situation. But I had just sort of expected myself to be okay despite what I had gone through. My therapist helped me to understand that what I went through wasn't normal or okay and it was okay for me to feel angry and sad about not having a normal childhood or teenage years. Being able to fully accept that what happened to me wasn't okay or normal took several sessions, but finally being able to accept it has really set me free. We did a lot of processing following that regarding my self esteem and twisted thinking in my relationships, and how I often felt like I wasn't good enough for my romantic partners and would try to mould myself into something they could love unconditionally.

I decided to focus on myself for a while and not engage with romantic relationships for the rest of the year. I needed time to explore myself and accept my entirety. I've been able to accept a lot more now that I contain multitudes and I don't need to flatten my identity to be easily understandable to others, nor do I need to change who I am to be liked.

In Spring of 2023 I continued seeing my long term therapist alongside taking a course on Self Love. This course really opened my eyes into the ways I was neglecting my own wants and needs, and how my low self esteem and lack of self respect was holding me back: in my relationships, my schooling, my career, and my life in general. I've shied away from a lot of opportunities because I was afraid I wouldn't be able to achieve them. At the same time, I've accepted poor treatment from friends and partners in the past because I didn't think I deserved any better. Since then, I've been trying very hard to reinforce to myself that my voice matters. I don't have to hide parts of who I am to make my friends and partners like me. I am allowed to be my full and complete self, and not everybody has to like me, and that's okay.

I've been trying to pay more attention to my wants and needs since then. My main goal this year has been to be a more active participant in my life. I decided to take time off of school this fall semester to reorient my goals and take the time to think long and hard about what I want from the remainder of my college experience. I also have actively been working in my projected career field, and have really been loving it. I used to be so afraid of a career. I was always worried that I wouldn't be good enough. But this past year I've been able to accept that I am capable of doing hard things and of getting through new experiences.

Another aspect of my mental health that has worsened my self esteem in the past is my anxiety and ADHD. I went undiagnosed (but with a diagnostic impression) until earlier this year when I underwent my first real psychiatric evaluation. For so long I had felt like I was just worse at things than everyone else, that my lack of focus and procrastination and struggle to meet deadlines was that I just wasn't trying hard enough and was lazy. At the same time, I didn't understand how everyone could do things in life so easily that were so scary to me (even small things like changing my route to get somewhere).

Since my diagnosis, I've been trying to have a lot more patience with myself regarding my symptoms and be honest with myself that most people around me aren't experiencing the world the way I am, and that I don't have to compare myself to them. This self acceptance has helped me make progress on finding coping mechanisms and strategies more than shaming myself ever did. The reminders on my phone, to-do lists, and planner I use religiously have gotten me so much further than reprimanding myself for not remembering things.

Unfortunately, my anxiety is still really hard to manage. I have finally been able to seek psychiatric help regarding this and am seeing a prescriber for the first time very soon. I'm excited for where that next step will take me, as I've never been prescribed any mental health medication before.

With my mental health symptoms, I've found now more than ever it's very important for me to be kind and understanding towards myself and not pass judgements on my character based on my behaviors. I work with children who often have behavioral health issues and this approach of not judging myself but instead seeking to understand why I'm behaving a certain way has been the foundation of how I've learned to accept and help them. I also have taken this same approach in my interpersonal relationships: seeking to understand why first and passing judgement second.

The other thing I've had to work very hard to accept is that I am only capable of controlling my own actions. I am only in control of myself, and I can't change how anyone else feels or acts. The only thing that I can do is try my best to be understanding and be a good person to those around me. I feel like with my anxiety I feel a huge need to be liked and accepted and understood by everyone around me, which I feel is a very human thing, but at the same time it's impossible to be my full self and have everyone like me. So. It is what it is.

My body image has also significantly improved. I still have hard days, but since I've stopped living for others and processed a lot of my trauma I've really been able to let go of my desire to be attractive or desirable to others. The only person my body needs to exist for is me. I have ownership over myself. I get to choose what I do with my body. I feel like my pro-bodily autonomy stance has finally extended to me. I've definitely had a few mental lows this year and a few days where I've had to fight back ED behaviors, but the important thing is I've won every time. I have so much more respect for my body now and feel so proud of myself for letting go of my desire for perfection.

The final aspect that I want to talk about is the mindset shift that has helped me the most, which is practicing gratitude and seeking beauty in the ordinary. Because of my trauma and anxiety, my brain is wired to see the world as a scary and evil place. I've been trying to combat this but choosing to see the beauty in things. Earlier this year, we had our window open for a few months and a pair of birds built a nest there. That kept me going just seeing them there for weeks. I find I cry more often now, not out of pain or grief, but because I become so overwhelmed by the beauty of the world or the actions of others. I spent so long thinking I could only be hurt in this world that I'm still surprised every time I see deep expressions of love and care. I'm so grateful for the people who care about me and for the joy I'm able to experience. I tell people I love them much more liberally now because nothing in this life is guaranteed.

This has been my mental health wrapped. Thank you if you read this and please feel free to leave a comment and tell me what you're proud of accomplishing this year ❤️

[deathwords334]

Yet Another Post Dogma Story

(Ok this one is definitely not a Drabble. It's double the length of the others so... I guess it's a proper fic at this point? It's only one scene though...)

Aziraphale bursted right through the doors to the offices of the death angels.  By then, the angel had walked through that door enough times that no one was too surprised to see him.  Any anxiety he may of had previously being around them were also long gone.  The past several months had been brutal for him.  He didn’t expect it to be a walk in the park; he would have to contend with the archangels who (sans a certain Angel of Death) was all but praying for his downfall.  Then there was the Metatron.  He was ‘supportive’, but Aziraphale had been there long enough to know that all his compliments were empty.

He could not leave Heaven, no matter how much he wanted to run back to his bookshop (and maybe even to the arms of a certain demon, no matter how much he resisted).  The Voice of God did everything except explicitly threaten punishment if he even stepped foot towards the elevator without being supervised.  

Heaven was still as deafeningly quiet as it always was.  Sitting at his desk with the mountains of paperwork only made it worse.  Sometimes he found himself stacking them in such a way that they looked like the humans he knew below.  If you really squinted… and your eyes were watering…

There were only two places where he could find comfort.  One was a storage closet that was dark enough that the blinding white of heaven couldn’t shine through.  He often went there when he had to suppress his screams for a very short period of time.  Less frequently, but for longer periods of time, there was Azrael’s office.  The whole floor was isolated from the head offices by a separate elevator and wasn’t under surveillance (per se).  It was a perfect safe space: sound proof, dimly lit outside of the soft lights of the lamps, had a nice soft couch with blankets and pillows, and, most importantly, books.  So many books.  

Azrael gave his blessing for him to come and go as he pleased.  Under one condition.

Aziraphale knocked on the door, a certain couplet the archangel suggested using.  After a minute or two, he got his response.  Azrael knocked back and the blonde stormed into the room.  He catapulted himself onto the couch with a loud groan into one of the pillows.

“You alright, Supreme Archangel?”  Azrael asked as he closed the door.

“More than.  Yes!  Never been better!”  His response was muffled into the pillow still but very beleaguered.  Azrael chuckled to himself and walked past the couch, back to his desk.  When Aziraphale heard his friend’s pen scribbling onto papers, he moved himself in the most undignified way so he was resting on his side.  Once more, he groaned.

“Why thank you, sir.  That couch has been flying all over the room.  It was getting rather annoying.”  The Angel of Death casually answered, not even bothering to look up.

“Just need to close my eyes.”  He murmured.  Oh sure… That was all he needed to do.  He didn’t want someone to pay attention to him whining.  Where would someone get that idea?

“So Crowley’s taught you the art of sleeping…”  

“I need some tea…”

He raised an eyebrow.  “What happened to the one I brought you this morning?”

“Downed it after my meeting with Saraquel.”

“Quite the ball buster, aren’t they?”  No response.  Azrael sighed quietly.  While he initially decided that he should focus on work and let sleeping dogs lie, he instead got a better idea.  “We did just use that couch, you know-“

Aziraphale bolted up into a sitting position, eyes wide open.  ‘Right!  I came down for a reason.”

“Did you.”  The supreme archangel tried to ignore the bemused ‘tone’ in Azrael’s voice.

“I was thinking some about Project ‘Make Heaven Tolerable Again’!”

“Told you Heaven was never tolerable.”

Aziraphale grumbled.  “Michael and Uriel won’t budge on some of my requests.”

“Requests?”  Azrael finally looked up from his papers.  Just as he expected, the archangel hadn’t heard anything about this.  It was partially by design.  Aziraphale wanted to surprise him.  However, it also showed how little the other archangels thought of the prospect.

“Yes.  I’ve put in requests to bring in some more plants.  I decided to use His arrival as a reason to spruce up the place, you see.”  Aziraphale waved his hands grandly, expressing the sheer scope of said project.

“I’m pretty sure they haven’t even looked at those.”  Azrael grumbled.  He pressed his lips into his open palm.  “I told you.  They aren’t inclined to listen, especially after what happened to Gabriel.”

“Well, you can’t fault me for trying.” 

“No… Not at all.”

“I was hoping they’d let you bring some more life up there.”  Aziraphale smiled gently to the other.  Azrael blinked back, but the blonde could see the creases of his cheeks starting to form.  He knew that smile.  “Which leads me to my Idea.”

“Did you just…”

“Start from the bottom up!”  Aziraphale was beaming, all too happy with the ‘Idea’.  He was practically jumping on the cushion.  He motioned towards the window.  “It works for humans.  A lot of social revolutions started amongst lower ranking officials.  Surely, we can do that up here.  Muriel was rather interested in earth.”

But Azrael shook his head.  He could argue the consequences of some of those ‘social revolutions’, but he didn’t want to.  “Not all angels are like Muriel.  Muriel is a good old fashioned angel: they soak up information like a sponge.  They probably would’ve been chosen to be heaven’s representative had management got you back earlier.”  He sighed.  “Angels aren’t even like Gabriel… when his memory was gone.  They’re stubborn, stupid… stupidly lonely.”

The supreme archangel’s brows furrowed and his lips pouted slightly.  “… You’ve been keeping an eye on them.”  Azrael's stiffened posture told him everything.  He had already concluded that the archangel of death had not entirely lost who he was before being revived, so surely…  “Have you been trying to improve heaven this whole time?”

“No.”  But Aziraphale smiled giddily.  What a liar.  “I’m not in this for heaven.  I’m in this for me.”

“Of course you are.”  The supreme archangel scooted to the other end of the couch and rested against the arm.  “What have you done then?”

“…”  Azrael looked his boss up and down before letting out a little sigh.  Not entirely one of defeat.  There was fondness in there too.  “We’ve familiarized ourselves with some of the more isolated angels.”

“Isolated.”  Aziraphale breathed thoughtfully.

“Heaven is a big space… There’s angels who haven’t seen another being in centuries.  Some of my cohorts make rounds to check in on them, talk, and give them small tasks… It’s far from perfect.  We’ve been shooed away.  But…. But we have ways.”

He raised a coy brow.  “Like?”

Azrael covered his mouth instinctually.  His bemusement, though, was far from obscured.  “Have you heard about the Halloween haunting?”

“I can’t say I have…”

“Hmph…”  He grumbled and muttered into his palm.  Aziraphale hummed and shifted once more to a comfortable position on the couch.  He kept his focus firmly on the archangel’s ‘expression’.  It was rare to see the stoic angel of death pouting and huffing.  Certainly wasn’t something he’d want others to see, so, in a way that was almost sinful, the supreme archangel wanted to remember this moment.  Engrave it in his mind for moments when he needed to smile.  And, of course, never tell anyone about it.  “Well!  On All Hallows Eve, some… ‘mysterious’ things happen upstairs.”  His shoulders slouched a little when he didn’t get a reaction.  “Are you sure no one has even asked you about a black cat?”

“A black…”  The blonde wrecked through his brain.  Management had never been forthright with office affairs unless it was related to Earth or regulations that he specifically overstepped.  He had his ways, though.  The problem was heaven was often very quiet outside of the fight for power.  That part he got good at ignoring.  Still, there were a couple times when he heard that the archangels were complaining about a black cat that was running around heaven.  It wasn’t a living cat, surely.  A ghost…  He gasped and looked to Azrael again.  “Oh!”

Azrael grinned menacingly, this time not thinking to cover it for Aziraphale’s comfort.  “Yes!  My favorite… He works for me.  His name is Sir Reginald.”

“He ‘works’ for you?”

“…”  He pressed his lips together.  “I’ll explain another time.”

“Yes.”  Aziraphale answered quietly.  Azrael had a lot he needed to explain, didn’t he?  “Why Reginald?”

“Felt fitting.  And he seems to like it.”

“After the Count?”

“Nah.”  With the snap of a finger, a book flew off the shelf and into the angel of death’s hand.  A small red book.  It had obviously been read multiple times, but given its age, it was in good shape.  Aziraphale could even sense that it had a miracle on it; it was probably meant to keep it from deteriorating.  He looked closer at the cover.  ‘Reginald by Saki’.  “Surprised you went with one of them.  Surely you’ve met Saki before.”

He shook his head.  “Unfortunately not… He was a busy man.  Never stayed in one spot for too long.”  Azrael nodded knowingly, but Aziraphale added in a nostalgic tone.  “Noel was quite fond of his work, though.”

“Mm.”  The black haired angel started fingering through the pages.

“How much of his work do you have?”

He looked back to his bookshelves.  “Some… I try not to collect every book in existence, you know.”  To emphasize his point, he gestured with the hardback book ever so.  “This one was gifted to me by his sister.”

“How sweet.”  Suddenly, Aziraphale yawned.  How odd… He was struggling to keep his eyes open.  “I really do think I’ll close my eyes now.”

“Alright.”

“Don’t let me sleep long?”  The supreme archangel slowly sank his body back into the couch, choosing a soft black pillow nearby to be his sleeping companion.

“Of course.”

Aziraphale closed his eyes.

—

It was dark.

The waves were crashing against the cliffside.  The rain had stopped… He didn’t expect that…. Aziraphale looked around.  It was just as dead as it was back then.  But eventually something caught his eye.  A mop of red hair… and black clothes.

Oh no…

Crowley… Aziraphale forced his body to move towards his friend.  He fell beside his body.  Oh how horrid.  He was all cut up and torn.  They were deep, these cuts.  He was surprised the demon wasn’t bleeding.  And his expression was so serene.  

Hold on.  I’ll heal you!  Aziraphale went to place his hands on Crowley’s chest, but the demon grabbed them instead.

Angel.  Aziraphale could hear his voice.  It was so clear.  It was so weak… He wanted to cry so much.  

Crowley.  I’m so sorry.

It’s ok… Do you see it?  It’s beautiful isn’t it?  From one of the cuts in the demon’s chest there was a flower starting to bloom.  It was glowing.  It was radiating so much love.  It was beautiful.  It hurt to look at… it hurt…

Aziraphale gasped loudly and he grasped his chest.  Something was threatening to burst.  His flower was trying to break free.  It wanted to break free…

I want to break free!

—

Aziraphale bolted up in a cold sweat.  He thought he did at least.  The room was a little brighter than the dark stormy night of his dream… right?  Oh the memory of that dream was starting to fade.  He placed his hand against his forehead and begged his mind to make any kind of recollection.  Whatever happened hurt.  He knew that without doubt.  But Crowley was there.  He was happy.  There was love…

As the initial panic subsided, the supreme archangel realized he was not alone.  Someone was standing beside him.  It must’ve been Azrael.  He probably never left his office.  Aziraphale turned to his company.  “I’m all… right…”  The shallow smile on his face faded, and he was fully awake.  Azrael was beside him, yes, but so was someone else.  He knew them.  Or rather he had heard of them a long time ago.  There were rumors, but Aziraphale had always assumed they had died in the War.  Yet here they were.  Full of grace.  God’s grace.  He couldn’t take his eyes off them; they would not let him.  And he didn’t want to.  His body was fuzzy, hair sticking up like he was wearing the nicest wool sweater.  Body warm like he was drinking his favorite tea on a dark, overcast night.  His heart was full.  It hadn’t been this full in so long… Be it with Her grace or Crowley’s.

“Told you he’d get overwhelmed.”  Azrael had leaned down to his partner, who was in the process of rubbing Aziraphale’s arm.  The death angel’s attention was squarely on his eyes.  So the archangel whispered in their ear.  “No one can deny your grace.”

/Oh stop it/  They turned their head quickly, signing just as fast with one hand.  They weren’t mad, though.  It was playful yet stern.  There was love.

Aziraphale looked between the two beings.  He remembered now.  The first time he came down to Azrael’s office he saw… Well a moment of intimacy he probably shouldn’t had seen.  Azrael and this being.  They were lovers, right?  No… That didn’t sound right… It was more than that, wasn’t it?

Right.  The being in question.  Azrael’s other half.  They had more scars than him, and they were more methodical.  Azrael and indeed every other death angels’ scars were sporadic and varied.  Those were from the war.  These were far more unique in look, too.  They were older and had a slight glow that spoke of a higher plane of existence.  One that hadn’t been heard from since before time.

Azrael stared at his boss, cautiously probing.  “You know them.  Surely…”

The death angel nodded in agreement.  They signed.  /I go by Ariel.  Pleasure, Supreme Archangel/

“Pleasure’s all mine.”  Aziraphale smiled a little.  Ariel had finally let go of his hands by that point, and in place of that sensation, he found himself gently caressing his own.  He allowed it for a little while longer before standing up to leave.  “I’m sorry, I’ll just…”

“Oh no.  You can stay.  We were just letting off some steam.”  Azrael assured him before motioning to a record player by the window.  Aziraphale hadn’t realized till then that there was music playing quietly in the background.  He grimaced.  It was modern sounding.  He wasn’t fond of it.  “I bought this record this morning and I wanted to show it off.  They sang on one of the songs.”

A death angel sang?  On a human record?  “I thought…”

/Long story…/  Ariel assured him, their expression stuck still in that melancholic smile.  /I’m happy you’re awake, though.  I can report my findings/

Azrael covered his mouth as he teased.  “So that’s where you were this morning.”

They nodded and turned back to their companion.  /Some of the angels have still shown signs of recognition of music.  Some were tapping along as I passed/

He nodded along.  “Brilliant.  We might need to delay the next step though… His return has thrown a wrench in all of this.”

/I can keep this whole thing going for a while longer-/

“Ah excuse me, but I’m lost.”  Aziraphale chimed in.  “Why are we talking about music?”

“We’re gonna introduce human music to heaven.”

“But the way you’re approaching all of this… You’re acting like they’ve never heard music before.”

“At this rate, they haven’t.”  He stated a matter a factly.

Aziraphale scoffed.  “Oh really.  Heavenly choirs haven’t gone away.”

“They have…. When was the last time you heard someone singing up here?”  Aziraphale was about to proclaim, but lowered his head in thought, instead.  When was the last time he heard the choir?  It wasn’t recent.  It must’ve been around when Jesus was born, right?  Yet it didn’t sound like the choir he remembered.  Initially, he thought that the roster had changed at some point, but now he wasn’t so sure.  “You know how Heaven is with human things.  I said there ‘is no place’ for human things in Heaven because no one has handled human things since the war.  From what I’ve seen, most of it was thrown away or abandoned…. It remains where human souls reside.  Angels never go there.”

“But what about The Sound of Music?  It’s Her… favorite…”  A thought passed the blonde’s mind then.  When was the last time he had seen Sound of Music?  He heard the lyrics constantly.  Pretty much since it was first introduced to heaven.  But… When was the movie ever shown… Aziraphale sat back down.  “I’ll be damned.”

“You’re almost there.  But…”  Azrael made a motion with his hands, signifying they needed to backtrack.  “Before Gabriel wound up at your doorstep, something… happened.  Well, a lot happened.  But before then.  He approached me, and asked about Ariel.”

“Yes?”  He raised an eyebrow.

“Aziraphale.  When Ruha was demoted, they were placed under Gabriel’s demand.  He hated them.  Ruha and Ptahil alike.  He specifically went after them during the war.  When we were revived, he never even paid attention to Ariel.  Then he suddenly asks me if they’re ok, and if we’re still a couple.  Don’t you think it’s odd?”

So Ariel really was…  The supreme archangel wasn’t part of any specific cliques during the before times.  All he could do was hear second hand- But he quickly stopped that train of thought.  He realized now was not the time to start putting together fragments from the past.  “Maybe he was feeling repentant that day.”

“… This is Gabriel we’re talking about.  But I felt something.”  Aziraphale raised an eyebrow.  “Love.  I felt love coming from him.”  Aziraphale mouthed an ‘ah’ as Azrael continued.  “It took a while to piece it all together.”

Ariel picked it up.  /Lord Beelzebub was humming the same song for years.  I believe it’s a song by Buddy Holly/

“Everyday!”  Aziraphale gasped.

/Yes/

It made sense!  Despite the revelation that the (former) supreme archangel and the (former) Duke of hell had developed feelings for each other, the role the records (and the song they were forced to play) in it all had eluded Aziraphale.  No one had ever said anything about it.  Even when the two beings sang it together as they left earth.

Azrael waved a hand or emphasis.  “Then I saw it.  Gabriel learned the song from Lord Beelzebub.  He didn’t even know what music was till then.  Don’t you think that’s odd?  And Lord Beelzebub didn’t even approach it as a hymn.  They specifically said it was a tuneful way of conveying a message.”

/And if Gabriel has never heard music before, why would lower angels know of it?/

“Likewise, if Gabriel could understand and appreciate human music, shouldn’t other angels as well?”

“So you two are introducing the concept...”

“Mostly through foot taps and such.”

“…. You’re going to use the Sound of Music.”  Aziraphale clapped his hands in glee.  “Wonderful!  Absolutely brilliant!  I’ll help wherever I can.”

“Any suggestions then?”

He smirked.  “Well I wouldn’t like to brag, but I’ve been told I have a decent singing voice.  It won’t be full-on singing of course.  Perhaps some light humming.”

“Perfect.  And with your position, they’ll feel inclined to listen.”

“You really think so?”  Aziraphale all but begged.

“You’re the best Supreme Archangel we can ask for, my friend.”

It was just what he wanted to hear.  His body melted slightly, oozing appreciation and love.  It was the first real compliment he had gotten in months.

“I hate to cut our meeting short, but I do believe you need to go back upstairs, Supreme Archangel.”  Before he could protest, Azrael pointed out.  “The Metatron will get suspicious.”

/I’ll escort him/  Ariel assured.

“Be careful.” 

/Always/  They promised before the two kissed.

—

“So… mm.”  Aziraphale shifted about a little as the two waited for the elevator.  When was the last time he found himself speechless?  Granted, this was a different type of speechless, wasn’t it?  Ariel was his ally, even by proxy, but they still were a personification of God Herself.  Even in their ‘undead’ state, they were the closest thing he would experience for a while.  Until He showed up… Till he finally got the chance to talk to Her.  “Have you two been together for a while?”

/Even before Time was made/

“Oh.  How wonderful.”

They tilted their head slightly, still with their sad smile.  /What about you and Crowley?/

“Oh we’re not-“

/Of course you are.  I saw you two back in Edinburgh/

“Saw-“

/I felt your love.  His love/

“Oh… Well.”  He laughed quietly, trying to ignore the quiet burning sensation in his cheeks.  The bell rang as the elevator doors opened.  Ariel gently ushered their boss by proxy into the lift.

/Listen… I know you want to make heaven better.  We really do appreciate it.  But… Be careful/

“Certainly.  I’m very prepared.”  He assured them.  But watching Ariel’s ‘response’ made him feel rather uneasy.

/Don’t trust anyone/  They stared right into his eyes.

He smiled nervously, still trying to keep his jovial tone.  “Even Azrael?”

/Especially Azrael/  The bell rang.

[heartlandians]

Exclusive Interview: Spencer Lord Discusses the Mystery Around His Character in Heartland, Teases Family Law Season 3, and More

Spencer Lord is one of the industry’s most exciting new voices. After leaving a career in the corporate world behind, Spencer dove headfirst into acting and has gone on to land coveted roles in projects, including Riverdale, The Good Doctor, and Family Law. It’s his vulnerability, subtlety, and emotional depth that have captured the hearts of audiences around the world.

Currently, Spencer can be seen starring in the latest installment of Heartland. In Season 17, Amy (Amber Marshall) and the rest of the Heartland family know better than most that while dreams can sometimes come true, more often life takes us in unexpected directions. Spencer shines as Nathan Pryce Jr., a mysterious character who rolls back into town and holds a special place in Amy’s heart.

Pop Culturalist was fortunate enough to speak with Spencer about Heartland, bringing the many facets of Nathan to life, the upcoming season of Family Law, and more.

PC: You graduated with a mechanical engineering degree and worked as a project manager. What ultimately led to the transition to your work as an actor? How challenging was that pivot? Spencer: I went to university because it was the next “logical step” and pursued a technical degree because I was always praised for my aptitude in science. When I entered the workforce, I think I started to be more honest with myself. I was unhappy, sometimes severely depressed, and eventually realized I needed a huge change if I was going to feel whole. That’s what I know now. At the time, it was just, “I hate this job, I want to love what I do.” So, I started going to scene study classes, got some work at a restaurant, and quit my desk job.

In some moments, I thought I might be an idiot, giving up a steady gig for something as fickle as a career in acting, but I never once second-guessed myself. And I immediately fell in love with it. I love venturing out and trying new things, not knowing what’s next—like wading through water in the dark. And I get bored easily, so the irregularity of this industry ironically soothes some of my deepest anxieties. In a lot of ways, the pivot from desk job to struggling actor was the easiest decision I’ve ever made.

PC: Who or what has had the biggest influence on your career? Spencer: I could bore the hell out of anyone reading this and write a ten-page essay about the people, places, and things that have influenced me along the way. But I think I can boil it down simply to community.

My sense of community has grown and flowered into one of the most beautiful aspects of my life. I’m so, so lucky to find myself among a group of friends who care deeply for one another and inspire each other in myriad ways.

PC: You’ve had a lot of success already in your young career. When you look back, is there a particular moment that stands out? Spencer: The first class, signing with the first agent, being dumped by the first agent, signing with the agent I should have been with all along, the first booking, being on set for the first time (and every time), working with some truly lovely people along the way… I could go on, but it’s all been a sort of fantastic magical mystery ride, and I’m always just doing my best to appreciate every moment of it all.

Most recently, I got to work in the foothills of the Rockies, riding horses around on vast swathes of ranch land in Alberta. That was pretty damn cool.

PC: You recently joined the cast of Heartland. What can fans expect from Nathan? What was it about this particular character and series that resonated with you? Spencer: Mystery is starting to become a theme here because that’s one word that I would use to describe Nathan. But the mystery is really born from a damaged sense of belonging that he feels coming back to a community he was forced to leave after his parents separated.

I was raised by my mother as well after my parents separated and my dad moved away. As a boy, I idolized my father. Later on, as a man, I realized that I hadn’t really discovered who I was because I had modeled myself after someone who simply wasn’t me. I think Nathan is experiencing something similar. Having to step into his father’s shoes with regard to the ranching business while retaining his unique personality and autonomy is his challenge, all while bearing his father’s name.

Shirking the expectations of our parents ain’t always easy, and Nathan feels that.

PC: Your character finds himself returning to a town that he left several years prior, and it isn’t well-received by all, a situation you’re bringing much depth and nuance to. As an actor, how did you create the space for yourself to tackle the journey that Nathan finds himself on and shedding those walls? Spencer: What a compliment. Thank you. I must say, I found the writing did most of the work over the course of the season. Mark Haroun, the showrunner, really wanted Nathan to have a real rawness to him. He did a beautiful job slowly revealing Nathan’s character in a way that felt natural. All I had to do was, as you say, create space and say the words.

That’s always our job as actors. We’re blessed with words on a page which, if we’re open to receiving them, inspire us to action. I’m always trying to be more open and create space for spontaneity, in my work and in my life. As for how I do that, I’m not sure. Self-discovery for sure. Curiosity. A lil’ dash of yearning for adventure. In the end, it’s all a big… you guessed it. Mystery.

PC: This series is built on the relationships among the characters. Which was your favorite to explore this season and why? Spencer: This might be the obvious answer, but Amy and Nathan’s interplay pulled me right in. I appreciated the chance to explore a friendship that grows through adversity, has highs and lows, and isn’t just a simple “I like you, you like me, let’s be best buds.”

Nathan is emotionally stunted by a tumultuous upbringing, reintegrating into a community he was forced to leave behind and taking control of his dad’s ranch. Amy’s family runs a competing ranch, and her father and grandfather don’t care for Nathan’s business tactics, but she shows Nathan kindness in spite of her family’s jaded opinions of him. To me, these are very interesting circumstances.

These are the nuances and complexities that bring the characters closer to life, and that is my jam.

PC: Season 3 of Family Law will be released on the CW on January 17, 2024. Congratulations, by the way! What are you most excited for fans to see with regard to Aiden? Spencer: Thank you! I think the fans will get to see a softer side of Aiden, and a little more of an idea about why he’s so attracted to Abby.

PC: Playing Aiden is the longest you’ve lived with a character. Has anything about the experience surprised you? What has been the biggest takeaway thus far? Spencer: I take things as they come, and so far with Aiden, that’s been a pretty great experience. I think the biggest takeaway so far has been to allow that to happen, taking things as they come. The world of TV can change so fast, and when you sometimes have very little time to digest the material, the most you can hope for is a story that is exciting and dynamic, and that flows through you with ease. Susin Nielsen, our showrunner, and her team of writers, thread that needle so wonderfully. I’m very grateful to work with them to bring Aiden to life.

To keep up with Spencer, follow him on Instagram.

Source

[discyours]

Life update if anyone cares, living with my bf is going amazingly well relationship wise but general-life-wise I'm struggling a lot. I didn't have any friends in my home town and I didn't expect to make any when I moved here (I honestly have just never had the energy to maintain more than one relationship at a time) but living hours away from my family has been really hard.

Moreso than that is that moving has meant being dropped by my mental healthcare provider and the waiting list in this new city is still "unknown" over half a year after being signed up with them. I've had weekly support at minimum for over ten years and now it's nothing. It's been years since I seriously considered suicide but I've run back into periods of suicidality because I don't know how to cope anymore. I asked my GP about medication as a last ditch effort (I've only ever had terrible experiences with psych meds but I need something) and finally got an email back today saying I can only get medication through a treatment provider, ie suck it up until the mystery waiting list is over.

I've virtually stopped going outside without my partner due to anxiety. I'm remembering that my disability assesment report said I never went anywhere without my mom and that struggling to go out alone isn't exactly a new development, but I guess I forgot how dependent I was on my home environment. If nothing else I walked the dog with my mom every day.

I've gone from being in denial about my autism to realizing I am not only autistic but a lot more affected by it than I thought was possible for people with "aspergers" (yes I was diagnosed when that label was still used, yes I still managed to be in denial about it up until recently regardless). I knew I was on disability and I knew I wasn't able to finish school, albeit because of a variety of other diagnoses I blamed it on. But now I know it's definitely not OCD that causes me to freeze up on the couch all day often unable to even go to the bathroom until my partner comes home. I absolutely used to be severely depressed but I don't think that's an issue anymore. I don't lack enjoyment for life. I am really enjoying living with my partner and there are parts of every single day that I profoundly enjoy. I am just severely struggling to function and don't know how to deal with it or even wrap my head around it. Because I didn't realize how bad it was before. Even when I went months without going outside except for middle of the night walks because I was too anxious to be seen by people, even when I only ever ate because of my mother prompting me to. I never considered that my issues could be due to a developmental disability. It's not like nobody told me about the diagnosis. I was there for it. My mom used to blow up at me and hit me for not making eye contact, I had an ex who would tell me I was "fucking autistic" and forbid me from speaking around his friends because I was so obviously socially not-normal. And yet I didn't really connect the dots on being actually autistic, and actually affected by it, until I moved out and got hit in the face with my inability to function independently. And now I'm here.

[doloresandfriendsandstuff]

TMI Tuesday! What lead you to Christ?

OOOO! I really like this one! It can be a simple answer and a complicated one depending on how I say it...

I grew up in a mostly Christian household and was witness to some miracles throughout my life. The list of what I've personally experienced can go on (and to be honest, some reading this may find it pretty stupid or illogical), and while I can't possibly list every single thing I've experienced supernaturally or through faith, I can list a few things! Get ready, cuz I'm gonna get into story-mode!

When I was about 4 years old, I lived in a house that was nearby a wooded area, but was separated by a big, dry weed field. It was wildfire season, and the wooded area had caught on fire and was headed to the field and our house. I remember the firefighters coming to take care of it, and my mom rushing me to my bedroom so I wouldn't see all the drama. But as I was headed there, I stopped by the windowsill and peeked my nose over the edge to look outside in the backyard, where the fire was happening a ways off. There, standing in the field, I saw a VERY tall individual dressed in pure white, glowing white, standing straight up, with a large sword in each hand by their side. They had this stern and serious look on their face. They turned their head towards our house, and towards the fire. That was an angel. And he was sent to protect us. And then my mom rushed me into my room, none the wiser of what I saw, until years later when I remembered and told her.

When I was in my early or mid 20s, a few years ago, I got to experience an angel (or the Holy Spirit) hugging me from behind in a church I didn't normally visit, but had made myself build up the courage to go to after not having gone to church at all for years due to severe social anxiety. They had a guest speaker that day, and I don't remember who he was, but he had somehow said something that allowed the Holy Spirit to make Himself known in the building. I was sitting at a pew, by myself. The one behind me was completely empty. As soon as that guest speaker asked the Holy Spirit to come over the church, I felt these two large, strong arms hug me from behind, like they belonged to someone who was very tall and was crouching down to hug me while I sat. It wasn't exactly physical, but it felt physical, but also in a spiritual sense. It's not something I can easily explain. But when I felt that embrace, I cried... It told me that God still saw me as someone worth loving and having a relationship with, no matter my past or present. I just needed to be open to Him... To be hugged by an angel...or perhaps the Holy Spirit... That is something I genuinely want EVERYONE to feel, because it is the most amazing experience.

Then there's my husband. <3 Ever since I was little, I felt it in my soul that I was supposed to marry someday. But, seeing so much divorce and heartache throughout life, as well as a cycle of self-hatred, can make receiving a lifelong best friend/significant other feel next to impossible. This story can be...the LONGEST one I'll EVER share if I go into every single little detail. I SWEAR, if I could write down EXACTLY EVERYTHING that lead to this miracle I now have with my beloved that God so graciously gave to me, I would probably be able to fill up a novel or more. The important thing to know is...there is absolutely NO WAY I would be living the life I do now, with the man that I love, had he and I not leaned on the Lord the whole way through. GOD made this marriage possible when we believed it to be impossible and, quite frankly, couldn't even begin to comprehend it. @fractiouslemonofficial, my husband, is the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me. And I love him so dearly. God has literally given me a miracle husband. <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

[carmenlire]

Been Like This Part I

read on ao3

Alec walks into the bar and the weight on his shoulders seems to weigh a thousand tons, pressing down, and vaguely Alec wonders if he shouldn’t just go home and collapse into bed. Maybe then he’d finally feel weightless, if just for the half hour it takes to fall asleep.

But no, there’s something that’s pushing him into Hunter’s Moon tonight. Alec carries a strong dislike for most people– all those except for the precious few in his inner circle– but right now he feels a want– a need– to be around others without expectation.

He doesn’t necessarily want to talk to anyone. Really, just the very thought is exhausting, seems beyond his capabilities after a long week of talking to people constantly, ten hours a day, all the more tiresome when the conversations are nothing but impatient entitlement on their side and aggrieved irritation on his.

Distantly, he thinks that it should probably be a little worrying that his job, his dream that he's worked so hard for, is nothing but another source of annoyance and anxiety now.

It’s quiet for a Thursday evening. There’s just a smattering of people in the place. A couple plays pool on the far end, a group of friends are having a raucous time at a table in the corner. Alec smiles a little when one of them shouts something unintelligible just for them all to start laughing.

Alec can’t help but think that, from the entrance at least, it sounds so genuine.

Making his way to the bar, he has his pick of seats. There’s a woman at the end, a small collection of empty margarita glasses keeping her company. Alec figures that he’ll have his own assortment of glass soldiers standing watch by the end of the night.

The stool he chooses has scuffed leather when he pulls it out. It’s a little worn, light scratches here and there. Still, it feels wonderful to sit and to know that he doesn’t have to get up for however long he wants.

Truly, work has been exhausting this week. So many customers, requiring Alec to run in a dozen directions to put out a hundred fires. A cold is going around that’s left him short staffed the past several days. His bean supplier canceled his order without notice, leaving him in a serious lurch this morning.

The voice of the customer who yelled at him just a couple of hours ago-- because he made her plain iced americano without milk-- is still ringing in his ears.

Flipping the sign over to closed this evening had felt like nothing short of a victory. Letting the two remaining staff go home early to clean up by himself had been relaxing even if it had taken the last little bit of energy he’d managed to conserve.

There’s something soothing about being alone in his own space– Alec’s built Lightwood Coffee and Co. from the ground up. It’s his baby first, last, and everything in the middle. The couple of hours it had taken to clean up, go through inventory, and prepare for tomorrow had been the best part of his day, really.

Still, it was exhausting, the simple tasks that had once been filled with passion and excitement. Everything was so dull now, so rote.

In the back of his mind, Alec worries if it’s the coffee shop that’s lost its shine or if it’s just his life in general, color leeching out of everything he touches.

His thoughts have been maudlin all day, really for the past few months.

And now, here at Hunter’s Moon, Alec has no grand plan except to have a few drinks and try to not be so human for the rest of the night.

Something not quite a person, but not so far gone as to actually betray what he feels like– a little off center, stretched a little too thin, trying a little too hard to put on a convincing visage of responsible, perfectly functional adult.

Alec zones out for a few minutes before the bartender makes his way over to him. His overall expression is mildly standoffish, though his face is neutral as he stills in front of Alec and asks, “What can I get you?”

There’s no smile and Alec’s left with the vague feeling that nothing he could do or say would phase the bartender. Alec can relate.

There’s no offer of a menu and Alec doesn’t ask for one. “Can I just get an amaretto sour, please?”

The bartender’s brow raises imperceptible but he just nods, replies, “Sure thing,” and is turning his back before Alec can say anything else.

The drink’s placed in front of him just a moment later and at the first sip, Alec relaxes. It’s good– damned good.

Alec isn’t one to drink much and he’s never been to this particular bar before, though he passes it every day on his way to work. If the drinks are this good every time, then he might just need to become a regular on those days where he wants to blend in with everyone else and disappear for awhile in a simple pleasure.

The first drink is gone in a few efficient swallows. Maybe Alec should be concerned at how easy it’s gone down but it feels like the first time all week that something’s been able to give him an ounce of ease.

The bartender makes the few steps over to him, pauses but doesn’t say anything, just looks at Alec with that brow raised in question.

Alec nods.

The second drink is just as smooth as the first, the sweetness with the slightest bitter note hitting just the right spot.

Idly, Alec wonders if he’s going to get drunk tonight. Truth be told, he’s not much of a drinker. He enjoys the odd night out with Jace or Izzy, has been dragged into a poker night at Simon’s place a time or two where the bottles of cheap wine seemed to pour endlessly.

Still, he doesn’t make a habit of it. Well aware– too aware some might say– of how slippery of a slope these things can be, an underlying paranoia always keeping him in check. Just in case.

It’s during the third amaretto sour when someone sits a seat down from him. Alec doesn’t pay much attention, nothing more than to hear the rough scrape of a stool sliding over the floor, an impression of another man settling in after a day of work.

Briefly, Alec wonders if the other customer’s day was as grueling as his. He finds a well of sympathy at the notion.

Deciding to give the stranger the discretion he’d want, Alec’s attention shifts to other patrons. Crossing the line into tipsy, he’s an eager if apathetic people-watcher.

The group of friends in the corner have found a deck of cards somewhere and are having– what sounds like– an amazing time. Alec would like to imagine that they do this every month, in a similar way to the way he attends his poker nights, the weekly movie nights he has with Jace and Izzy.

It’s a warming thought for all that it strikes a pang of loneliness.

The movie nights have been a bit hit or miss lately. Izzy has been swamped with grad school and Jace is spending so much time with Clary that he’s rainchecked more than once.

Alec skipped a poker night a couple of months ago because one of his evening staff called off and one thing led to another and he hasn’t been to Simon’s since.

Once the streak was over, it was too easy to keep ghosting, the fatigue that’s been riding him into the ground making it too easy to beg off.

And, well, now Alec feels like something has slipped through his fingers, like he’s lost a chance, like he– well like he shouldn’t, can’t, just pick things back up.

It’s absurd, he knows. He’s been friends with Simon since college. Life happens.

Still. Alec has a deep, innate fear of being presumptuous, of overstepping bounds that he didn’t even know existed.

Simon hasn’t (re)extended an invitation and so– Alec doesn’t go over.

The coffee shop takes so much of his attention and it’s become matter of habit to simply go home at the end of the day.

It’s part of the reason that he decided to walk into this bar tonight. Alec isn’t adventurous or spontaneous. More than that, though, he had needed a diversion, felt the need for something else itching just under his skin, tickling his ribs.

Alec’s not one for flights of whimsy but the idea of breaking up the monotony had wiggled its way into his head sometime this morning, in between scalding himself on the edge of a tray of scones and getting berated for not having elderberry syrup. He needed to get away and for once, the idea of slipping into bed after a shower hot enough to burn his skin just didn’t seem like enough.

Maybe it’s the itch for diversion, a desire to not be so alone manifesting as a sad man drinking alone at a bar with nothing but strangers for company.

Alec still feels like it’s better than the alternative, though, and decides not to think about what exactly that says about him or his piss-poor excuse for living lately.

Throughout the past hour or so, Alec’s butt has grown numb and his back aches something approaching awful. These stools were not ergonomically designed and Alec’s a little too tired to keep from slouching in a way that’s a little painful and definitely damaging to his spine.

He lingers over the third drink until it’s watered down, trying to simply exist in a moment that he tells himself he wanted.

If he’s being honest, it’s not really satiating whatever inclination he’d had. Now Alec is still just as tired but the alcohol is already leaving him with a headache, leaving his head feeling the kind of fuzzy that just vaguely pisses him off.

He’s still debating between ordering a fourth drink anyway, staring into the dregs of his glass, when he hears a voice from his left.

It’s smooth, just a little low. “Penny for your thoughts, darling?”

The gentle tease in the words makes Alec smile while still looking down where he's tracing a scratch on the bar. Without quite being aware of it, he murmurs, “I’m not sure if they’re even worth that much.”

Sighing– with more than a little bit of drama to attest to the cup or two of amaretto he’s downed– Alec looks up just to blink, the sight before him arresting.

The man who’d asked the question is wearing an easy smile. His eyeliner is just barely smudged at the edges. His blazer is a deep maroon and the shirt is unbuttoned enough to share a tantalizing stretch of skin.

He looks friendly, Alec can’t help but think.

Waiting until Alec makes eye contact with him, the man’s smile deepens just enough to crinkle the corner of his eye.

“Well, I’m sure that’s not true.”

Warmth simmers in Alec’s chest at the quick rebuttal. He finds himself smiling, in turn. “And what makes you so sure?” Alec can’t resist asking with a raised brow.

To most anyone else, the question might come off as surly, combative. Luckily for Alec, it’s taken as it’s meant– a little too genuine with humor to cover the worst of it.

The stranger gives him an obvious once-over, lifts his own martini glass in a semblance of a cheers. “You’re too handsome for them to be worth any less,” the stranger replies, a not-so-subtle wink serving as punctuation.

Alec can’t help a laugh at that and the shyness strikes them both.

This certainly isn’t what Alec imagined when he walked in here. It’s unexpected but. . . not unwelcome, he decides after a moment of internal musing.

Choosing to blame the liquor, Alec leans a little closer to say, “Then your thoughts must be worth a fortune,” and he’s gratified to get a surprised laugh in return.

“If only everyone thought the same, darling,” the stranger. He hesitates a bare moment before reaching out a hand for Alec to shake. “My name is Magnus. Who might you be?”

Alec doesn’t hesitate to return the handshake, sliding his hand against Magnus’s.

There’s no shiver, no sharp intake of breath. No, Alec just shakes Magnus’s hand, feels the easy warmth against his own, the suggestion of a callous against the edge of his palm.

“Alec,” he offers after a long moment of the two of them just holding hands, not moving. His voice is low, hoarse around the vowels.

The bar seems quieter than it did a moment ago. Behind them, there’s still the din of conversation, the clacking of pool balls across the room. The chorus of a terrible Top 40 hit from 1997 is just barely audible.

Right here, Alec feels more in tune to the moment than he has in– perhaps longer than he’s comfortable admitting.

“Alec,” Magnus repeats. In his echo is both a statement and a question. Alec doesn’t know the answer to either so he just says nothing.

Magnus’s thumb sweeps gentle once, twice, over his knuckles before he lets go.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Alec says, latent confidence in his tone.

“Likewise, I assure you.” Magnus crosses his arms over the bar, head turned toward Alec.

His expression is hard to read for all it projects interest. The small smile at the corner of his lips has yet to fade. “What brings you here this evening, Alec?”

The question is to be expected. Alec still has to take a moment to find his answer.

He debates blatant honesty with pulling a punch or two. It might be nice to confide in a stranger, though Alec’s never quite known where the line should be drawn for appearances.

After a few moments of silence where Magnus doesn’t seem to grow annoyed or impatient or disinterested, Alec settles on being a bit more honest than he might otherwise be.

Alec is just this side of tipsy and unlikely to ever see Magnus again after tonight. Maybe giving oxygen to the tangle of weeds growing in his chest will help him. If nothing else, he supposes, it can’t hurt anything. If Magnus listens to whatever the fuck he has to say and runs for the hills, then at least Alec will be able to close out his tab and go home and forget this ever happened all the sooner.

Mirroring Magnus’s pose, Alec slumps a little more over the bar. His gaze flits from Magnus’s shoulder, to his pocket square, up to his mouth, and finally to his eyes.

Magnus’s eyes are a deep brown. Alec knows they hide more than they reveal. If he’s not mistaken though, warmth in the form of kindness lurks in them.

“I think I hate my job and everyone annoys me. I’m so tired and nothing helps. I feel– stuck, I think, but hell if I know what to do about it.”

Magnus doesn’t say anything for a moment, though his expression has shifted into something surprised but not unpleasantly so. Gently, he offers, “You and every other thirty year old, I’m sure.”

Alec grimaces. “Is it supposed to be this pervasive, though?”

Magnus laughs and this time it’s almost caustic. “Unfortunately, Alec, I don’t think it can be any other way.”

“If you tell me that’s just life, I won’t be responsible for my reaction.” Alec’s voice is dry, though he can’t keep the very real kernel of resentment out of his voice.

Now it’s Magnus’s turn to grimace. “I wouldn’t dare, darling, believe me.”

For some reason, Alec does.

He reaches for his glass, drinks the watered-down remains, places it back down and feels the sounds of glass hitting wood somewhere in the hollow of his ribcage.

Nibbling on his bottom lip, Alec wonders if he should ask the question burning the tip of his tongue. Like most of his decisions tonight, it boils down to might as well.

“Does it get better,” he asks, genuinely curious. “How?”

Magnus tilts his glass in a slow circle, seemingly captivated by the way vermouth and gin catch the light. His words are slow to come.

Alec’s torn between surprise that Magnus– who after just a few minutes introduction, had given the impression of having all the easy answers Alec’s desperate for– is taking his time to find the right words and appreciation that he would take a stranger’s question with the gravity Alec needs right now.

“I don’t know if it gets better,” Magnus admits and seems chagrined to do so. “I think it gets easier, though.” Taking a quick sip of his martini, Magnus gestures towards Alec. “Worries over something might ease just for something else altogether to take its place. You might become confident in one area just to decide to reach for something new or more or different. Once you conquer something or wrestle it into submission, the next thing grabs your attention. And thanks to past efforts, current issues won’t seem quite so dire. At least in my experience.”

Mulling over Magnus’s words, Alec finds himself nodding along. “I guess I can see that,” Alec admits. “Doesn’t really make me feel better right now, though.”

Magnus’s expression turns sympathetic. “I understand, darling. Anything particular with work and the general populace or just overall disgust at the end of a hellish week?”

Alec actually takes a minute to think about it. He’s a little surprised to realize that, “It’s really just general tiredness, I think.” He doesn't mention that the general tiredness has been his constant companion for the past few months.

Humming in commiseration, Magnus nods absently. “The end of the week does tend to make everything that much worse.”

Alec snorts a little. “Now that I know full well.”

The two sit in companionable silence for a few minutes.

Alec’s decided not to order another drink. The conversation with Magnus has him feeling more energized and awake then he was just a few minutes before and he doesn’t really want to add any more alcohol to the weird, unsettling mix of tired and maudlin that’s trying to settle in his stomach.

The abrupt sound of Magnus’s empty glass hitting the bar pulls Alec from his brief reverie. He looks over to see Magnus studying him, eyes intent but the curve of his mouth is pure invitation.

At least to Alec’s amaretto-soaked mind.

In the time it takes to blink, Alec’s meeting Magnus’s gaze. He can’t decide what he’s seeing– interest? Challenge? Pure polite humoring?

Magnus swings his chair to the side until he’s fully facing Alec. Resting his left arm on the counter, Magnus tilts his head to the side. “I don’t pretend to know everything you’ve got going on or the severity of it. What I do know is that I can offer a distraction. If you’re willing?”

Alec blames both his alcohol blood content and the way the light hits Magnus’s earring for the way he turns in his chair, too, leaning in far too close for someone of such short acquaintance.

He blames his well-established lack of any sense of self-preservation in the face of a pretty man when he replies, voice low and rough and just a touch too soft, “Do you want to fuck me, Magnus?”

He’s close enough to truly appreciate the way Magnus’s eyes widen at the words, to feel more than hear the small little intake of breath, to see the way Magnus’s eyes dip to his mouth for a second that lingers.

Magnus doesn’t pull away, though, and so Alec doesn’t either.

The space between them can be measured in heartbeats; a slow, steady pulse of temerity.

Magnus’s voice is low and rough and just as soft as he eventually replies, “I don’t think so, Alec. Not tonight, at least.”

Alec finds a world of possibilities in the curve of that smile.

Alec thinks that some part of him must feel the sting of rejection, the humiliation of presumption. It’s hard to feel any of that, though, when Magnus is still watching him with that same mix of bemusement and patience and interest, like he might not know Alec now but he doesn’t mind staying long enough to get a better understanding.

Blinking slowly, Alec allows himself to truly study Magnus.

He’s handsome and Alec likes the glint of intelligence in his eyes, even at so late an hour and after a few drinks. Magnus has been nothing but kind, a welcome respite, a breath of fresh air.

“Okay,” he breathes, his own smile growing into something tangible. “What kind of distraction did you have in mind then?”

Something in Magnus’s posture relaxes at the question, a tension easing out. He nods once, as though resolute, and stands up.

Alec moves his chair to keep Magnus in front of him until his back is to the bar. Magnus holds out a hand and Alec takes a moment to appreciate the way Magnus’s rings emphasis the slimness of his hands, complementing his dark nail polish.

“A distraction demands a change of scenery.” Magnus nods his head back towards the front door of the Hunter’s Moon. The light in his eye is one part challenge, two parts whimsy.

(Alec doesn’t know it now but it’s another part hope with the smallest streak of uncertainty.)

“What do you say, darling?”

Alec places his hand in Magnus’s without a second thought, the only thing running through his mind is the surety that he doesn’t want to let whatever this is ghost over him. He doesn’t know what it is but it feels fleeting– for once, for the first time since he maybe opened the coffee shop, Alec wants to reach out with both hands and hang on for dear life.

He’s halfway to standing, when he realizes, “Oh shit, we need to close our tabs.”

Magnus laughs, something gentle and teasing. He waves Alec’s concern away. “Don’t worry; It’s already taken care of.”

Alec frowns a little, wondering, but Magnus’s pull is irresistible.

He waits for the bartender to shout them back when he realizes that they’ve left without paying. Alec doesn’t hear anyone calling out and when he looks back, the bartender is just picking up their empty glasses with a roll of his eyes.

It’s the most expression Alec’s seen on his face all night.

Deciding not to worry about it, Alec turns back to where Magnus is leading him out of the bar.

Magnus’s hand is warm and when he looks back to make sure Alec’s still with him, his eyes shine with the same warmth that’s been directed at Alec all night.

Alec squeezes the hand still holding his. “Lead the way.”

[skye-huntress]

Today, I wanted to write about something different. I got into Bocchi the Rock! a few weeks ago, mainly because I find the protagonist, Hitori AKA Bocchi, to be super relatable. Like her, I am also a dork with severe social anxiety who finds otherwise mundane activities for the average person to be extremely difficult. Where we differ is that she is apparently a guitar god, while I’m maybe somewhat decent at non-competitive video games (I suck at PvP). Music based stories aren’t something that particularly interest me but I think the main attraction of the show is watching Bocchi being thrown into all sorts of anxiety triggering situations, freaking out and then barely overcoming them.

It was one of the few shows I’ve watched recently where I had my queer shipper brain switched off. There was some queer rep with fellow band member Kita being completely infatuated with another band member, Ryo, but from the start I thought it unlikely to go anywhere. When the point of the show is a protagonist with zero social skills joining a band in a desperate attempt to gain popularity and fame, there’s little room for romance. That said, the last two or three episodes (9 to 11) have awakened my dormant shipper brain from its slumber, and I’m seeing signs pointing to something definitely going on between Bocchi and Kita. It’s been a few days since Episode 11, and my brain is not shutting up about it, so I feel a need to get the thoughts out there.

Just a disclaimer, I have not read any of the manga and will only be commenting on the show as I have interpreted it. I’m sure it goes without saying but I am obligated to warn you there are spoilers below the cut.

Kita and Ryo

I want to get this point out of the way first since I’ve seen one or two people comment on this. As I’ve already mentioned, Kita is explicitly attracted to Ryo, there is no room for ambiguity there. Would that make it less likely that Kita could develop feelings for someone else? I would say, not at all. It is entirely possible to develop feelings for more than one person at a time.

That said, looking at Kita’s behaviour towards Ryo, at no point did I ever see it going anywhere. Where Ryo is concerned, Kita acts more like a fanatical fangirl than a girl with a crush. I hesitate to even call them friends at this point since we have not seen any meaningful interaction between the two. Ryo has never even acknowledged or shown any interest in the other girl’s adoration as far as I can tell, and Kita hasn’t shown any effort to actually get to know Ryo beyond the idealised version she has in her head.

Kita and Bocchi

Where things are different with Bocchi is that Kita actually has shown a clear, unbiased interest in her, compared to how she is with Ryo. Rather than being blinded by first impressions, Bocchi is a mystery to those unfamiliar with her and it takes time and patience to really learn to understand her. Since Kita has been taking guitar lessons from her, she probably has had more one-on-one time with Bocchi than perhaps anyone else. Plus since they attend the same school, Kita gets to see Bocchi in a setting Nijika and Ryo can’t.

In the past few episodes, there’s evidence that Kita has gone through the effort to mostly understand Bocchi with some success. In episode 9, she was the only band member to sense Bocchi was being more melancholic than usual, while other two dismissed it as typical Bocchi behaviour. She was also the only band member who had actually thought of inviting Bocchi to do something over the summer holidays but didn’t think she would be comfortable around Kita’s other friends. When Bocchi ran away from her class’ cafe, Kita knew the places they needed to search for her. I’m just going to assume Kita’s own class didn’t need her present for their own festival project, but the possibility exists she excused herself to check on Bocchi, either out of concern or to see her in the maid outfit. She also saw right through Bocchi’s attempts to stall the band’s return to her class’ maid cafe.

The part that sticks with me the most is the application form for the Culture Festival that Bocchi filled in. It’s unlikely that Kita hadn’t already considered signing the band up for the festival herself, or at least asking the band if they want to do it. The only plausible explanation for why she would choose not to bring it up herself would be that she didn’t want to pressure Bocchi into doing something she might not want to do (the Kit-Aura is a mysterious and dangerous power not to be underestimated). Since Bocchi had filled out the application herself, that would have told Kita that Bocchi is in fact interested in playing at the festival for her own reasons and it was only her own anxieties and fears holding her back. It’s possible Kita also figured out that Bocchi was trying to get rid of her so she wouldn’t have to talk about the application, and I doubt it was just luck Kita found it in the trash after Bocchi had left for work.

It’s interesting to me that Kita initially tries to lie about why she turned in the application. Perhaps she thought it would soften the blow or that if Bocchi thought it was just an innocent mistake she wouldn’t judge Kita too harshly for it. Either way, it seems turning the application in on Bocchi’s behalf was the right call. And through her thoughts we hear the real reason why Kita really wanted the band to play at the festival. Sure, the exposure is good for the band, but what she really wants is for their peers at school to see how amazing and talented Bocchi is. It means so much to Kita that she actually went to Ryo for extra guitar lessons instead of taking up more of Bocchi’s time.

Words Unspoken

Those who’ve seen episode 11 know what this is about. Actually, it started in episode 10, when Kita had an unfinished thought about Bocchi before we cut to the scene where she asks Ryo for those extra lessons.

Then the next episode, during their last practice, Bocchi has her own unfinished thought about Kita and is almost about to say something before changing the topic. It’s possible she’s noticed some change in the way Kita played during practice, likely the result of Ryo’s lessons and maybe even Kita’s newfound determination. Even if we saw the actual practice, I probably wouldn’t be able to guess what Bocchi noticed so that is pure speculation.

Immediately following, Kita is about to say something to Bocchi, but stops herself before we find out what it is, and she definitely started blushing when it happened. It’s all just speculation on what she wanted to say, but I have no heterosexual explanation for this scene, and Kita is definitely not a heterosexual. If she was concerned that she might expose any deeper feelings for Bocchi, I could see a few reasons why she’d stop herself now. While Ryo hasn’t once responded to Kita fawning over her, if you were to confess similar feelings for Bocchi, you’ll definitely get one of her unique reactions, maybe even add to the Bocchi death counter. It wouldn’t be a good idea to spring something like that on her the day before their biggest performance yet. Besides, whatever Kita wanted to say, perhaps she is saving it for a better time and place, because whatever it is definitely seems very significant if we’re being teased with it two episodes in a row in the lead up to the finale.

Also, there’s this from the Opening:

That’s a smile and a blush on Kita’s face while she’s staring at Bocchi when she looks away. Once I saw it, I couldn’t unsee it.

There is definitely something going on between these two, and we’re definitely getting a heart-to-heart between them in the finale. I have more thoughts, too many thoughts, but I’ll leave it here and probably do a follow-up after the next episode.