#this week is prolly busy for me whoops | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vanchlo · 5 years ago

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Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes / Green Eyes 4

Read all 3 previous parts here!

Blurb Synopsis: With final exams approaching, you find yourself coming to rely on Harry more, whether for help with teaching, emotional support, help packing your apartment, or to complain about your students wanting to set the two of you up together. The saying goes that ‘stress makes you stronger,’ and that will be the true test during this season in your lives, and relationship.

Genre: Teacher Harry, soooooo much fluff, some angst, a little sad, and lots of romance.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 10k words, whoops

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Music Inspo: Changes by David Bowie & Butterfly Boucher (click to listen; yes the Shrek version, YES FROM THIS VERY PART)

I also wanted to thank my pals @sunflwrnarry and @bfharry who’ve helped me with this story with their support, ideas, and love for it. I love freaking out with you two over this story ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

As you bring your fist to the blue door, you suddenly pause. Thoughts dance inside of your head and tie themselves to your heart. Happiness comes over you in another wave as Harry’s voice interrupts the thoughts, his voice telling you that he loves you from earlier. A content sigh meets the air in front of you in a white cloud. You had forgotten how cold you were, but the playful barking coming from the other side of the door brings you back to reality.

“C’min!” Harry replies once you knock.

Slowly opening the door, the warmth of Harry’s house greets you, along with the musky cinnamon smell that accompanies it. What surprises you is the little bundle of golden fur barking at you, but with the cutest bark, you’ve ever heard.

“Ya, you get ‘er, Gatsby! Go get mummy, go say hullo t’ her!” Harry giggles, and soon you are too as you fall to a crouch as he approaches you. With that tail dancing in the air, you only laugh harder as he slips and falls in front of you. “My goodness, yer a clutz li’l boy. ‘Bout third time ya’ve fallen down and we’ve only been home fer a few minutes, jus’ beat mummy by a tick.”

“Hi, bud. How was your ride home with daddy? What do you think of your new home?” you coo to the puppy, rubbing the top of his furry head. He continues to yip at you for a few seconds until his sniffer takes over.

“I see how good o’ guard dog, you are, pup. Ya smell any food on ‘em and they’re yer friend,” Harry sighs with a titter, carding a hand through his hair when you glance over to him.

“No, you’re a good guard dog, Gatsby. You just have to get used to mummy and daddy, don’t you?” you croon, rubbing both hands along his chubby face as he sniffs the air. “Come on, let’s go sit by daddy,” you suggest, unable to hide your laugh as you observe him struggling to walk on the hardwood floor.

“Looks like I might need t’ get su’more rugs or else he’s gonna be fallin’ e’rywhere.”

“Yeah, it’ll be easier to clean up his accidents on the wood flooring, though,” you note aloud, sliding off your slushy winter boots onto the mat by the door. After hanging up your coat on one of the hooks, you turn right into Harry’s living room to take a seat by him on the long red rug. “Did you take him potty yet?”

“Ya, I did befo’ we went in tha school and afta, and a few minutes ‘go. He went befo’ we went in but not since. ‘m not too worried tho’, I knew when I got him that he’d be peein’ on e’rythin’,” Harry notes, his eyes stuck to the waddling furball. Quickly, they dart to you and his strong arms come around your middle, pulling you into him. “C’mere, love, and have a cuddle wit’ me.”

Gatsby turns and begins to bark at the both of you as Harry pulls you over to sit in his lap, the both of you laughing loudly. He tottles over and proceeds to sniff the both of you.

“How does she smell, Gats’? Does mummy pass yer sniffer check?” he mumbles, against your cheek where his words tickle your skin. You contribute to the conversation with a laugh at the both of them, sinking into Harry’s arms. Contentment washes over you when your back meets his chest and you feel him press a kiss to your temple.

“Come here, Gatsby!” you say, patting your lap excitedly.

“Nah, he’s too busy sniffin’. I swear ‘s all he did when he was in me car, even tho’ I was holdin’ him tha whole time.”

“It sounds like you should’ve named him Scooby-Doo instead,” you remark, earning a soft laugh from Harry. You squirm when you feel his breath tickle your neck. Sighing, you relax against him, his arms resting on your soft tummy and sometimes rubbing his knuckles against it.

“Perhaps,” he comments, the feeling of his smooth cheek against yours an absence now, his stubble already prickling your skin. “Fit right into me arms, tha both o’ you,” he continues, swaying the both of you back and forth in his arms now clad in a long-sleeved Rolling Stones crewneck.

You hope he can see the smile adorning your face and being all the reply he needs. You’re uncertain the last time you felt this content and happy all rolled into one, but it’s hard to pinpoint because Harry always seems to have that effect on you.

“Hope ‘s okay I named him, jus’ thought it was perfect when I saw him tha otha day,” he whispers against your temple, the cinnamon from his gum tiptoeing over your face.

“Yeah of course, it is. I couldn’t imagine him being named anything else. I don’t know how you kept him a secret for a whole week, I would’ve squealed,” you say with a grin, backing up when the puppy gets brave and stands up, his front paws on Harry’s knee. You titter at the feeling of his feathery whiskers on your skin, the sound of his adamant sniffing, and the cold wetness of his nose on your chin.

“Yeah, I dunno how I didn’t. There were so many times I almost told ya, but I jus’ wanted t’ surprise ya, bird.”

“I’m glad you did. Okay, Gatsby, you go and smell daddy now,” you relent, your hands coming around the chunky puppy. His tummy is warm against your palms and his whine fills your ears as you lift him up to set in your lap.

“I dunno, I think he likes how ya smell betta. What, did ya eat sumthin’ on tha way here, a Twix or Bit-O-Honey, or sumthin’?” Harry murmurs, his smile felt on your temple. “We’re gonna hafta watch it, he’ll wanna get into e’rythin’.”

“Yeah, he must smell that Twix I found in my car,” you reply, squealing when you feel the puppy’s warm wet tongue on your cheek.

“Sumbody already loves their mummy, I see,” Harry comments. “Ya, Gats’, le’ss give mummy all tha kisses!” he exclaims before pressing loud smooches all over your face too.

“Oh no, attacked by kisses, whatever will I do?!” you shout, feeling the energetic puppy in your lap as you close your eyes, chuckling. You wouldn’t change this for the world, no siree.

“Thanks for dinner, it was delicious,” you tell Harry as you set your dishes in the dishwasher.

“Welcome, love. Would ya like some wine? I should finish off dis bottle already, ‘s gettin’ all flat,” Harry asks, the soft click of the fridge door opening following his words.

“I don’t know, it’s getting kind of late and I have to drive home . . ,” you answer, conflict showing through in your words.

Your eyes follow Harry’s tall figure as he reaches an arm to a shelf in the cabinet, grabbing two long-stemmed wine glasses. A smile tickles at your lips when his shirt rides up a tad, and his fern tattoos adorning his hips say hi to you, as well as his happy trail you love so much. It amazes you the amount of restraint it takes to not reach over and touch his tummy. Ugh.

“You could have as much wine as ya’d like and ya wouldn’t hafta drive home if ya stay tha night. Gatsby had wanted me t’ ask ya, anyways. I told him we could make it work - we’ll all pile togetha in me bed, and ya can borrow sum jammies o’ mine,” he hums, turning to face you as he sets down the two empty glasses. The bubbles rising within your chest only worsen when you see the smug look pulling his lips into a smile. “I mean, that’s if ya want t’ sleep ova.”

The gurgling of the white wine filling a glass occupies the silence between the two of you. Words fleet you as you watch him fill one glass three-quarters of the way full, and when his eyes lift to you they brim with uncertainty and anxiety.

“Bird?” he inquires softly, raising an eyebrow. His adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he bites on his lip. “Sorry, nevamind, maybe ‘s a bit early fer that still. Yer not movin’ in fer anotha’ month, so ‘s okay,” he finishes, trying to diffuse the situation with a soft laugh.

You deliver your answer by grabbing the full wine glass and bringing it to your lips that part with a smile, “I’d love to stay over and steal your ‘jammies’,” you reply softly, the wine surprising your lips with its sweetness and chill. His face collapses into a blushing laugh as he shakes his head.

“Birdy, you li’l shit,” he remarks, clucking his tongue as he pours the rest of the bottle into the second glass for himself. “Ya can’t scare me like that, thought I jus’ made a proper fool o’ meself.”

“No, you could never make a fool of yourself in my eyes, Harry,” you mumble, setting down the wine glass on your short walk over to him. Your fingers soon find him, first on his backside where you cup his ass, earning another head shake from him.

“Ya really fancy me bum, dontcha, love?” he snickers, setting down the bottle with a clud, twirling the metal cap back on quickly. He turns around to face you, but you leave your hand on his bum.

“Mmmhmm, it’s quite nice,” you try to say seriously, but it comes out accompanied with a laugh.

“So ‘s yers, y’know,” he winks, slapping your butt as he dips to plant a kiss on your lips. “We betta go find out what that li’l boy ‘s doin’ in there, prolly gettin’ into trouble.”

“In a second,” you whisper, placing your hand on the back of his neck slowly.

“Jus’ a second?”

“Maybe more,” you shrug, feeling the wispy hairs on the back of his neck as the golden glints in his eyes come into focus.

His rose lips spread into a smile, showing his straight teeth, and disappearing when your lips meet his in a kiss. The remnants of the chocolatey brownies you had for dessert linger on his lips. Wafts of dark smoke from when he started the fire in the fireplace titillate your senses, coming to be a favorite smell you associate with him.

“You taste and smell so fucking good, like brownies at a bonfire,” you breathe against his lips, your eyes wandering to his that stare at you so adoringly you feel like you’ve already had five glasses of wine.

“Look at tha potty mouth on you, can’t believe it sumtimes,” he smirks from above you, the smell of cocoa hitting your face.

“Yeah well, you sure like to kiss it a lot.”

“I do, don’t I?” Harry coos, brushing the pad of his thumb along your lip, adding another theoretical glass of wine to the overflow of your senses. “I’d kiss it bloody all day long, if I could.”

Your head fills with wishes similar to those as his lips caress yours, but you’re broken apart when you hear a whine from nearby. Parting, you both peer into the other room, finding Gatsby waiting in the doorway. You swear that he stares at the both of you while he lifts a leg and pees onto the dark wooden floor.

“Well, so much fer that,” Harry giggles, stealing a kiss from your cheek before he lets go of you. “Where’d ya leave those baby wipes we were usin’, love?”

Although Harry’s pajama bottoms swallow your entire bottom, legs, feet, and all, you can’t help but smile at them. The gentle smell of his laundry detergent reminds you of marshmallows for some reason, and you couldn’t be happier as it envelopes you. His Beatles shirt falls over your head and comes down to your thighs, but you’re not complaining. I think these are tha smallest ‘ve got, they should fit, he had murmured a mere minute before as he handed you the folded pile of clothes. Okay, Harry, if you insist, you think silently as you inspect your appearance with a dumbfounded smile.

With a nervous grin, you set your outfit from today on a shelf in the cabinet and turn off the light. You can hear Harry talking to Gatsby as your socked feet pad down the hallway, easing your nerves quickly. Low and behold, once you push the door open, you find him sitting on Harry’s chest, looking like he’s getting a talking to. Sure enough he is, you find.

“‘s time t’ go t’ bed now, so we’re all gonna sleep in dis bed. Please try not t’ pee on daddy’s sheets. Ya have a pillow t’ lay on down at tha end o’ tha bed, and yer bed’s on tha floor in tha corner. There’s one o’ those blue plastic sheets down fer ya t’ go pee too, alright? Understood?” he tells the puppy with a toothy smile, wagging a finger at him and twirling one of his floppy ears around another

“Uh oh, somebody’s in trouble,” you joke, leaning against the doorframe. When Harry’s eyes carry over to you, you self consciously cross your arms over your chest not contained by a bra. “What?” you mumble, narrowing your eyes at him as he stares at you, that toothy grin only growing wider.

“Nothing,” he confesses, looking back to Gatsby with reddening cheeks, stealing glances at you every now and then.

“Harry,” you continue with emphasis, dashing around the bed to slide under the cream covers on the right side. “Hi, Gatsby,” you coo excitedly when his tail begins to wag frantically, pulling a giggle from your lips when he turns towards you, hitting Harry in the face.

“Gosh, kid,” he manages, lifting the puppy up to pass him to you. You’re almost drowned in puppy kisses to the face, sending giggles from your lips. The puppy’s name flies into the air as you try to fight him off. “Guess he likes that taste o’ tha toothpaste.”

“I guess so,” you agree aloud, finally his attack of kisses ending. Soon, he forgets you and wanders around the bed sniffing. He finally lies down and curls up against Harry’s leg towards the end of the bed.

“I sacrifice one o’ my pillows fer ya t’ lie on, and that’s where ya lay?” Harry huffs, but soon an adoring whine sounds behind his lips as he admires the puppy. “I guess we tired him out runnin’ laps downstairs.”

“Yeah, it’s about time. He has so much energy, I can’t believe it,” you murmur in agreement. When you look over to see the look on his face for the puppy, instead you find his eyes waiting on you. “What? Do I have toothpaste on my face?”

“No, but if ya did Gats’ woulda gott’it,” Harry hums, nevertheless brushing a thumb across your cheek with the sappiest smile you’ve seen him wear in a long time. “Ya jus’ look . . cuter than I thought ya’d look in me clothes, bird.”

“I’m swimming in them, how is that cute?” you ask, pulling on the front of the shirt as proof, eliciting a loud laugh from Harry.

“‘m sorry, I thought they’d fit betta. But they look great on you, they really do. E’rythin’ does, and sumhow I love me jammies on ya best,” he remarks, his hand coming to cup your cheek. “Yer so beautiful, birdy. ‘m gonna go get ready fer bed too, befo’ I keep blabberin’.”

The smirk painted on his face looks much like the one you’re sure is consuming yours at his words. He folds back the covers and Gatsby moves over as Harry leaves the bed, but you grab hold of his hand at the last second. He turns to you with a questioning look, saying he has to go and brush his teeth.

“I like it when you blabber, especially to me,” you share, pulling on his arm until he returns to lean over the bed, steadying himself with a hand on the mattress.

“There’s n’body else ‘d ratha blab t’ than you, love, and ‘m guessin’ we’re in fer a long night with this li’l one,” he smiles, pecking you fast before his hand slips from yours and he leaves the room.

Yawning, you slide back under the covers and pull them over your shoulders, savoring Harry’s smell they hold. Your head falls onto the satiny pillowcase as the top plush blanket a shade of sage caresses your cheek. A huff tickles at your ears and you find Gatsby’s made his way over to you and settles his head to fall on your calf, his large ears splaying out on the splash of green. Emails and texts on your phone occupy your time as you wait for Harry, listening to Gatsby’s adorable little sounds where he’s curled up beside you. Your sleepy hand finds his furry body, keeping you warm, and you tickle his fur as you turn your phone off to set on the table at your bedside.

“Look at you two, snug as a bug in a rug, ‘d say,” Harry murmurs out of nowhere, appearing in the doorway, rubbing his eyes. For a second, you think you need to do the same because you’re sure the image in front of you is a mirage of some sort. Harry scratches at his bare chest, a yawn leaving his lips while stretching his bare arms into the air. “Oh sorry, I neva sleep with a shirt on, I hope that’s okay. It doesn’t make ya feel weird, does it?” he questions, closing the bedroom door so Gatsby won’t wander around the house, as he said earlier.

“N-No, it’s okay,” you mumble, trying not to stare as he pads across the room. The closer he gets, the more your heart freaks out in your chest, you’re sure of it. “I like it,” you confess, suddenly wishing you weren’t so good at this blurting out secrets thing.

“Oh, d’ya now?” he smirks, shutting off the overhead light, leaving his lamp on to carry soft light on his side of the bed. You suffice a response with a shrug of your shoulders, cozying into the bed as he slips under the top sheet, pillowy comforter and blanket.

“Yer sumthin’, aren’t ya, birdy?” he quips, flicking off his lamp, leaving the soft glow of a few night lights he installed about ten minutes ago for you and Gatsby, his guests.

“Something special,” you tease with a snicker, hearing his breathy one in return, and soon finding his face lit by the glow.

“That, ya are, love. My sumthin’ special,” he acknowledges, the squeak of the mattress following his words as he arrives at your side. “If ya need anythin’ tonight, ya can wake me, alright? Figure we might be up a few times with him, anyways.”

“Thank you, Harry.”

“Welcome, bird, I hope ya have sweet dreams. ‘m glad ya stayed fer a sleepova, thank you,” he hums, a dimple falling into his cheek with his words, leading you to think if you had any they’d already be there in your cheeks. Sometimes you can’t believe your luck.

“Of course,” you answer, leaning forward to place your lips atop his. He giggles into the kiss as your lips move together, the spearmint in his toothpaste forgotten as it tickles your own tongue too after he gave you a spare toothbrush. His hand comes to rest on your side and it feels peculiar with the absence of his rings, but you savor it and it’s warmth.

His bottom lip remains between yours, pillowy soft and warm until you begin to hear Gatsby’s snores and your fingers have found the bravery to roam his chest. The cheekiness comes out in you when one wanders to his bum, giving it a good squeeze through the checkered fabric of his ‘jammies’ as he so adorably calls them. A muffled snicker slides into his mouth when the hand on your side drifts to your bottom with a soft slap. You’re grateful for his absence of a shirt, letting your fingers admire the slope of his back warm against your fingers that are cold from washing up. The little hairs all over his body are satiny smooth beneath your fingertips, just like his top lip that you take between yours, your hurried breaths filling the air.

“‘Kay, bird, time t’ get sum sleep. We can snog in tha mornin’, ‘m beat afta t’day with school and runnin’ after this li’l boy,” Harry sighs after ending the kiss, mirroring your frown but much more dramatically. “Get sum sleep, ‘ll see ya in tha mornin’. We’ll all three go t’ tha shops t’ buy tha rest o’ his stuff and ingredients fer pizza t’morrow,” he yawns, leaving a kiss on your nose afterward. You nod in response and hastily lay a kiss on his cheek. Nervously, you pull away, afraid you’re pushing his buttons, but he just smiles and kisses you on the lips one last time.

“Goodnight, Harry,” you whisper, arms diving back under the warm covers as you try to get comfortable without moving Gatsby.

“Night, bird . . and Gatsby.”

“Goodnight, Gatsby,” you murmur, patting his small head softly, his snores continuing against your leg.

“Oh, I see how it ‘s, yer already becomin’ a mumma’s boy,” Harry tuts, clucking his tongue as he squirms in the bed, finding his sweet spot. You drift off soon next to your two boys, counting down the days until you get to fall asleep with them by your side every night.

Browsing YouTube, you scroll through the videos that appeared from your search request for haikus. Yawning, you rub at your eye as you pause your scrolling and inspect a video before playing it. It doesn’t get a chance to play very far when you’re interrupted by a voice.

“Thanks fer tha lunch again, bird. Ya really do spoil me, I always forget t’ make one,” Harry hums, waltzing into your classroom holding the Rolling Stones lunchbox you had bought for him for Christmas last month. He sets it down on a clean corner of your desk, leaning across it to peck you on the cheek.

“You’re welcome. Did you eat everything?” you ask, dragging it over and undoing the zippers.

“Ya. I loved tha bagel sandwich you packed tha fixings fer, and tha soup was lovely,” he hums, leaning against your desk, crossing his arms over the soft yellow button-up covered in black flower designs.

“No, you didn’t,” you disagree smiling, opening one of the small pockets to take out a box.

“What, how’d I miss those? You musta hid ‘em from me!” Harry exclaims, taking the box of Chocolate Banana Pocky from your grasp. A cocky giggle of his fills the air as he opens the box and rips open the white bag.

“Harry, you better not eat those all in one sitting!” you warn. He looks you in the eyes as he sticks four of them into his mouth and takes a bite, a smirk playing along his lips. “Harry Styles!” you proclaim, sitting forward and threatening to rip the box from his hand. He only giggles harder and takes another bite, the four pocky gone in a flash as he crunches on the rest of them loudly.

Shaking your head, you watch him walk away, sticking three more between his rose lips. You sigh with a smile, unsure of just how many times you’ve seen him devour a box of them within an hour, or less.

“What’s your full name?” you wonder aloud, looking away from the computer screen and to him where he stops in your doorway, turning around.

“Well ‘m not gonna delight ya with that info afta ya jus’ yelled at me, now am I? ‘m sure ya jus’ wanna use it t’ yell at me su’more,” he replies, shrugging his shoulders as he shoves the rest of the half-eaten pocky into his mouth, winking. You can hear his chewing all the way from here. “And no, yer not gettin’ any o’ me pocky.”

The deep breaths just don’t stick, and soon you find yourself out of your chair and pacing your classroom. You busy yourself picking up forgotten pencils and papers on the floor, tidying the messy containers of books, and the disaster that is your desk.

“Ya ready t’ go?” somebody sings from your doorway where a shuffling sound comes from as well. “Birdy?”

You don’t respond, unfreezing your hands from the sound of his voice. Instead, you flip over a copy of The Tempest and replace it in the bin right side up, because Harry would not allow that to be done to a Shakespeare. His shuffling of feet comes next, tapping along the floor and getting closer. A swallow is met with the lump in your throat, and you brush the back of your hand over your cheek, hoping they’re gone.

“Hey, anybody home?” Harry laughs, arriving at your side and slinging an arm around your waist. “‘m ready t’ go, if you are, love. ‘m sure Gatsby ‘s waitin’ fer us at my place, all excited. He’s missed you, y’know,” he coos, pecking your cheek.

“Yeah, sorry I-.”

“Hey, yer phone’s ringin’. Here, ‘ll grab it fer ya,” he volunteers, soon feeling his absence as his footsteps are drowned out by the loud ringtone. “It says ‘s yer mum.” Closing your eyes, you groan quietly or at least try to. Soon, he’s at your side again and places it in your hands where you hit decline.

“What, why didn’t ya answer?” he questions, probably eyebrows knitted together in the cutest way possible, like he does. You don’t look though, so you’re not sure as you shove it into your pocket, busying your hands with the mess of books before you. Removing a copy of The Christmas Carol that was shoved into the front of another bin backward, you replace it to face forward now. “Birdy, what’s goin’ on?” he continues, a hand settling on your arm, but when you reach to grab another book his hand grabs it. It leaves your fingers to grace your chin, turning your head to look at him.

“I just don’t want to talk to her right now,” you reply softly, hoping he won’t detect the spent tears that aren’t so invisible on your cheeks.

“Oh,” he breathes, a dimple falling into his cheek when his mouth quirks into a confused expression under his layer of five-day-old stubble. “Y’know, ya’ve neva talked much ‘bout yer parents, ‘d like t’ meet ‘em. I mean we’re movin’ in togetha soon and ‘m sure they’d like t’ meet Gatsby. Ya met me sista fer tha first time tha otha day.”

This time you’re positive he doesn’t see the tear streaks or how they still cling to your eyelashes coated in mascara. Boys can sometimes be so ugh, you mutter to yourself amongst your thoughts. You knew this was coming the second she called, and well, months ago, but you had hoped you could’ve gotten by longer without it.

“You don’t want to meet them,” is all you say as you turn away, his hand dropping from your chin now cold from the drought of his touch. You soon arrive back at your desk where you pick up a stack of worksheets from this week’s vocabulary words, looking for a paperclip to fasten them.

“You can’t decide what I want and don’t want, bird. I don’t like that,” Harry responds, and you can see him looking at you from the corner of your eye. “I mean, ya met my parents already, why can’t I meet yours? I don’t undastand.”

“I don’t want you to meet them,” you reply, setting the now fastened stack on one of the wire shelves of the little stackable organizer on your desk. You continue to avoid his gaze by gathering together another stack of today’s green root words quizzes.

“I thought we weren’t keepin’ secrets, bird, but ya can come ova when yer ready t’ tell me. ‘m goin’ home, so take howeva much time ya need,” he grumbles with a loud exhale, almost slamming the door to your classroom on his way out.

Sinking into your chair, your hands rake through your hair as a defeated sigh joins the air. Another one falls after the next when you spot the neon blue Post-It note stuck to the underside of your desk, just at the edge where you would’ve spotted it, just like you have. The crack along your heart only grows deeper when you begin to read his messy chicken scratch, and all of the love that leaks from its words.

Birdy,

Gatsby wanted me to tell you that you are such a greatttttttt mummy already, and that he loves you soooooo much! His daddy loves you too ;) I’m looking forward to making homemade pasta together tonight, you always have the greatest ideas. My students asked me today when I’m going to ask you out on a date, soooo would you like to go out on a date with me this weekend, toooooo pack up your apartment to come and live with me? ;) I’m so excited to wake up to you every morning and fall asleep next to you every night, bird. Only two more weeks! Fourteen more sleeps, it’s not like I’m counting or anything.

I love you, so much

Harry xoxo

“C’min!” a voice drawls when you rap your fist against the door. The warm inviting scent of cinnamon greets you when you walk into Harry’s house an hour later, along with the growing puppy who scurries over to you.

“Hi, bud,” you murmur with a smile, giving him a good petting as his tail sweeps along the floor. “Is daddy still crabby?” you ask him, closing the door behind you with your foot.

After toeing off your boots and hanging up your coat, you peek into the kitchen where the smell of onion, garlic, and broccoli waft from. Harry stands at the stove in a shirt and sweatpants, rolling his bottom lip between his fingers. You don’t get much of a chance to figure out what mood he’s in, because Gatsby jumps up onto your lap, licking all over your face.

You play with the puppy in the living room as Harry cooks in the kitchen until he announces the food is ready, homemade pasta night forgotten apparently. You eat together silently while watching TV, Gatsby begging at your feet. You thought that things were better now when compared to earlier, but for the rest of the night something was off between the two of you. You focused your attention on Gatsby who you swear has grown since the last time you saw him, if only a few days ago. Now, he fills your lap comfortably, and you’re sad to say goodbye to him when you leave early. You just couldn’t take the awkwardness floating in the air anymore, and left after a short peck from Harry.

The next day, a Saturday, Harry showed up with Gatsby and a bunch of cardboard boxes to pack close to the last of your stuff. You tried to make it up to him by cooking him breakfast, which he loved, but you still felt it sticking to every moment that passed. You weren’t sure if you should bring it up or not, and at the same time you were waiting for him to bring it up, readying your defenses. Something was clearly bothering him or on his mind, and as you bubble wrapped things and packed them away, you were curious about why he kept looking at his phone. Then around one in the afternoon, after a few hours of packing, he stepped out to take a call.

“What’s going on with daddy, Gats’?” you posed to the puppy who ignored you, albeit stealing a look at you, returning to the rawhide he’s been intent on destroying. You swallow nervously, glancing over to the hallway outside your bedroom where you can just make out his voice. Tearing your gaze from it, you try to busy yourself by gently placing the wrapped picture frame in the box, and picking up the next one.

“Everything okay?” you ask softly when Harry returns, shoving his phone into the back pocket of his blue jeans.

“Ya, e’rythin’s fine,” he replies casually, pulling at the collar of his charcoal-colored henley shirt.

“Okay,” you mumble quietly, wishing you could forget about packing and admire the way that shirt hugs him in all of the right places. That will have to wait for another day when he wears it, you agree silently, seeing that he’s not in the mood today for his buttons to be pushed. You don’t want to find out what happens when you push them when he’s in a bad mood. You try to forget about it as he helps you pack up some of the less necessary items in your bedroom, like summer clothes, novels, photo albums, CDs, DVDs, and more.

As you stare at the barren shelves of your fridge, you make a mental note to go grocery shopping soon, something you’ve forgotten recently with finals approaching at school and packing.

“Do you want to get takeaway or go out for lunch?” you call out to Harry, leaving the kitchen to find him sitting on the sofa in your living room. He’s staring at something intently on his phone, but when he hears your footsteps behind him, he quickly hides his phone in his pocket.

“Takeaway’s fine,” he answers, clearing his throat, his nervous tic.

“Harry, is something going on? You’ve been acting weird, like you’re hiding something,” you assert, walking around to face him. You’re unsure of what he’ll say as you’re unable to read his face, and you know that’s when it’s bad.

“What, so yer tha only one who can keep secrets?” he retorts, his face screwed up in crude disbelief. You’re sure the same emotion painting yours is even worse as you feel the sting of his words. He sighs as you shake your head, beginning to walk away. “Bird, stop, ‘m sorry.”

“What, Harry?” you ask, stopping your feet, but not turning around to face him. You hear him breathe in deeply among the squeaking of Gatsby’s toy he plays with on the couch beside Harry.

“I was offa’d a teachin’ job t’day, a few hours north at that Wright Arts Academy, that’s who called me,” he announces solemnly. The only thing you’re grateful for in the moment is the fact that he can’t see the look on your face as you’re positive every breath just left your body. “They’re so focused on enrichin’ tha students in arts, ‘s great. ‘d be teachin’ classes like Mythology, a whole class on Shakespeare, Improv, Rhetoric, Intro to Sci-fi and Fantasy, and jus’ so many great English courses. Tha classes are smaller and so ya get t’ know yer students betta. ‘d get t’ teach ‘bout my favourite, Shakespeare, fer an entire semesta, bird! They’re offerin’ me more money, too . . ,” he continues, and you’re unsure of when you want him to stop, or if you wish he had never begun. Suddenly, you do a three-sixty when your thoughts are consumed by the happiness and excitement in his voice.

“You should take it,” you say, spinning around to look at him. His eyes are stuck on a random part of the wall, but then he looks to you.

“But ‘s three hours away, bird? ‘d hafta move away and we’re s’posed t’ move in togetha,” he counters, eyebrows falling and quickly you’re more confused than you were a moment ago.

“You’ve always wanted to teach those kinds of classes, Harry, you’ve told me so yourself.”

“But, birdy-.”

“Take the job, Harry, if it’s what you want,” you insist, trying to smile at him, but it doesn’t stay long when you see the look on his face.

“I dunno if ‘s what I want, yet. I don’ wanna move away from you, I don’ wanna do long distance. Wait, do you? ‘s tha movin’ in with me too soon, are ya gettin’ cold feet?”

“What are you talking about? Harry, no of course not. Where are you getting this from?” you reply, dumbfounded at the words coming out of his mouth. Apparently, you can only grow more confused.

“Maybe it has sumthin’ t’ do with not wantin’ me t’ meet yer parents, I dunno, you tell me, bird. D’ya not wanna commit? Why would ya want me t’ take a job that would make us do long distance?”

“I don’t know, Harry, maybe because I want you to be happy!” you exclaim, feeling telltale signs of incoming tears, and they fly faster than you thought they could have. “You’ve told me that you’ve always wanted to teach classes like those, because you enjoy those topics so much - myths in literature, science fiction and fantasy novels, and even though I don’t understand it, you love Shakespeare! You almost named Gatsby after Romeo or Duncan instead, you love his work so much. Of course, I don’t want you to move away, because things are so perfect right now having a job that means I get to work across the hall from my boyfriend. I can’t believe you think I’d want you to move away and do long distance. I would never- but I want you to be happy, and I’m not going to stop you from taking this job if it brought you that. I’m not going to be selfish and make you stay for my own happiness. A-and my parents are another story, I haven’t spoken to them in years. They’re just not good people. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I didn’t know how,” you finish, feeling grateful for that blurting talent of yours because sometimes you need it. Harry’s jaw almost hangs off its hinges as you stare back at him through blurry eyes, wishing the last few minutes hadn’t happened. Well, the last day. Quickly, the tears triple and you can’t stand him seeing you cry anymore because of the thoughts bashing against the walls of your head.

“I’m going to go pick up lunch,” you say softly, defeat evident in your tone as you turn around. After grabbing your keys and coat, you stomp out to your car and start it. You wait for it to warm up as the cold air from the vents slowly turns warm, but really you only waste the time so you can spill your tears in silence.

It takes all of your strength and willpower to not go back into your apartment and tell him not to leave, because you’re pretty sure it would break you. You can’t imagine a stranger teaching in Harry’s classroom, no shared kisses in the copier room and staff lounge, crossing the hall to ask him a question as soon as it pops into your head, and the fun you both have with your students trying to set the two of you up together albeit it being futile. The doubt of getting a job for yourself at this stupid Academy of Arts to join Harry only makes you feel worse, especially because of the memories your school holds for the both of you.

Wiping your tears away, you try to take a deep breath that won’t come, and you pull the car away to leave him and hope that he won’t do the same to you. The tears left as you drove to go and pick up fast food, but they returned when Harry texted you while in the drive-thru to not get him anything because he was going home to think. Once you returned to the empty apartment, that’s all you could do was think, and it tore you apart.

You had left Harry be for the rest of the weekend, although it was one of the hardest things you had done. You’d liken the effort to running a triathlon, although you’ve never done one of those, but you feel like you have the strength of a triathlete after giving him space. You relented and texted him once though, but just once. It was to ask for a picture of Gatsby who you missed, and he followed through, sending you a couple of pictures. They made you the happiest you’d been all weekend, even despite the tears that crept up when you saw Harry’s reflection in the mirror in one. Then his ringed hand holding Gatsby in another, a selfie of sorts with your favorite shirt of his on his torso. It all made you doubt your words the more, not wanting to have to suffice for only seeing him and Gatsby through pictures if he took the job. You were reminded of your reasoning for it all - wanting him to be happy, but it still gnawed away at you what that would mean if he moved. You tried not to let yourself get too carried away and at times you almost called him, but you weren’t sure who was the bad guy after your argument. You were the one who exploded on him, and you both kept secrets from the other, something you had recently agreed not to do. A promise that the both of you broke so soon.

You had yet to see Harry the following Monday at school, even though you could hear the Cat Stevens album trickling from his classroom at seven-twenty in the morning. Somehow you avoided a run in on your way to the early morning staff meeting, and you didn’t mean to, but you were roped in to sit by a colleague. You found your first seconds of joy of the day when she showed you pictures of her growing baby, one Harry doted on and hogged during most of the staff Christmas party last month. You tried not to think of that while looking at the baby’s chunky thighs and rolls on her arms, and how much you wanted to tell him about it. The joy didn’t stay long when you spotted him taking a seat next to Julie, the visual arts teacher who has had a thing for him as long as you can remember. The pit in your stomach hardens at the sight of him, messy-haired and unshaven, and yet handsome as ever. Confliction carries your features when you spot him wearing the multi-colored Peter Max inspired pop-art button up you had bought him for Christmas. It all only gets worse when he senses your stare and meets your eyes, showing you the sadness hidden in them before you look back to the pictures of the baby.

“Hey, teach! I have a question!” a tall brunette girl in your classroom whispers to you, glancing over to the librarian nervously.

“Yes, Sabrina?” you reply, trying to ignore how some of the students call you that, but then again it’s some that you’re the closest to.

“Um, Mr. Styles is just right over there, aren’t you going to go and talk to him?” she grins, playing with her ponytail, ignoring the computer in front of her.

“Yeah, he’s looking extra cute today,” the girl beside her comments and you have to hold back your laughter. “But he was all glum when I had Creative Writing with him earlier, I don’t know what his deal is today.”

“Maybe he’d be happier if he had a girlfriend,” Sabrina comments wryly, raising her eyebrows at you.

“Maybe I’d be happier if you two were doing your review for the final exam, and not trying to set me up with your teacher, when I can manage just fine on my own,” you comment firmly, trying to avert their attention back to their computer screens and review packet.

“Hey, Mr. Styles, um Ms. Y/N needs some help with something about Shakespeare!” Sabrina calls to Harry two rows of computers to your right.

“I don’t need help!” is all you say with a sigh, loud enough for him to hear, turning around the second you see his head of tousled curls lift where he’s leaning next to a student he helps.

“He ignored you!” Sabrina’s friend exclaims in a whisper, inhaling dramatically along with Sabrina. “You’re not just going to let him ignore you, are you, Ms. Y/N?”

“God, what you’d do to him, he’s usually all over you?” Sabrina sighs.

“Girls, please return to your work. I’m sure Mr. Styles is busy helping a student with their final review, which you’re supposed to be doing right now too. Finals are at the end of the week, we all need as much studying as we can get,” you calmly say although rather curtly, walking away when you see a student with their hand in the air.

“I wish they’d just confess their love for each other already, they’re perfect for each other,” Sabrina grumbles, clicking her pen annoyingly.

“Me too, then maybe they’d both stop being so crabby during finals week,” her friend notes aloud with an exasperated sigh.

Usually you can take the teasing of your students wanting to set you up with Harry, but today you’re not in the mood for entertaining them or carrying a conversation about it. Today, it just hits a little too close to home, you realize silently as you lean against a wall to observe your class, the student no longer needing help. You steal a glance at Harry who stands up straight after helping a student, patting their shoulder with a smile. His attentiveness shines through when he moves on to another student, falling to his knees to get to eye level with him, giving them all of his attention. The way the shirt hugs his torso in every way only makes it all the worse, clinging to his biceps, the slope of his back, and his love handles you love so much before it disappears into the waist of his black slacks.

“Ms. Y/N, are you okay?” Sabrina asks, her eyes on you when you look over to her.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just got something in my eye,” you answer with a hard swallow, picking up your clipboard and checking your watch. You do anything to try and not think about Harry leaving, and how not only you would suffer, but his students. Also, just how much you’re dying to tell your students, hopefully one day soon, that you’ve been dating all along. Hopefully.

Finals had been wreaking havoc on you and only causing more hell for the day you were having. Luckily, Harry had helped you with the majority of it in the recent weeks and even had given you some of his old tests. The anxiety still overwhelmed you at times wondering if you’re preparing your students enough, if the final review packet was too much or not enough, and if your students would be ready. Finals were going to be the death of you, you were sure, if Harry’s revelation about the job offer wouldn’t kill you before then. You couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking, if he had sought it out and applied, or how it even came about. It drove you even more crazy as the tests neared, knowing that you’d be spending the rest of the week in your classroom from seven-thirty most likely until five pm every day, with him just across the hall.

You craved his voice and his touch, his hugs, and that laugh that could fix anything in seconds. That Monday and Tuesday you didn’t mean to ignore him, but when he walked into the staff room while you were in there, your feet found their way to the door quickly. You’re sure you could have left the bone you bought for Gatsby on his desk or bring it over to his house, but instead you left it in his mailbox with a note.

Give this to Gatsby, please. Tell him it’s from Mummy xx

It stung when you found it in your mailbox later that day with a note from him.

You can give it to him yourself the next time you come over :) xo

It was even automatic when you agreed to get lunch with Lola on Tuesday, even though that was the day you and Harry always went and got pizza together. During your prep hour that morning, you lingered in the staff room after he made his appearance. But when Julie the art teacher started to compliment how good he looked wearing the tie you bought for him with Fleetwood Mac song titles covering the fabric, it drove you up the wall. She didn’t stop there, and continued on about how nice he looked and how much she liked his returning beard, making you want to throw up onto your doughnut you had just warmed up. You dropped it into a trash bin in the hallway after deserting the scene, unable to endure her flirting with him and not being able to do anything about it. It pained you to not be able to tell her to stop because he’s your boyfriend, but you and Harry had agreed early on to not share your relationship with colleagues unless necessary.

It was all becoming too much for you to handle, finals week and kind of fighting with Harry and thinking about him moving away. Too much too quickly.

The hard copy of Creative Writing’s final exam sat in front of you that Tuesday afternoon. The sun already hides beyond the horizon outside the windows hugging the wall to the left of you. This has to be the second or third time you’ve printed a copy to look over, always finding something wrong with it, but this time you think maybe you’ve found a winner. The clicking of your pen meets your ears when you think you find a problem, but it’s whisked away when there’s another click. Your classroom door opens and in walks Harry, playing with the black-tie dotted with song titles of all different colors.

“Hi,” he rasps, gently closing the door behind him.

“Hi,” you return, eyes straying to the test in front of you. Your attempt to continue checking it is futile as goosebumps cover your skin and your heart hammers away.

“Gatsby misses you.”

“I miss him too,” you reply, feeling the tears press at the back of your eyes with warmth, trying not to think about not seeing him for months at a time if Harry moved.

“I declined tha job yestaday,” he announces gently, but the whiplash you feel from looking to him quickly almost hurts. His bubblegum lips sit in a taut and nervous line, hands bunched into fists in the pockets of his red slacks. They leave your view when the printed words on the test return in your eyes, growing hazy quickly. “Can ya say sumthin’, please, bird?”

“I hope you didn’t do it for me,” is all you say, hoping the true meaning comes out in your honest tone muddled by your waterworks.

“‘Course I did it fer you. I did it fer us, and Gatsby. I did it coz ‘m ashamed it took me longa than ten minutes t’ figure out that no matta tha luxuries, that’s not my dream job. I already have my dream job, ‘s here teaching across tha hall from you, gettin’ t’ have ya botha me durin’ my prep hour, combine our classrooms t’ play Jeopardy, have our students harass us t’ go onn’a date already, and gettin’ t’ have a snog with you wheneva I want. I don’ care if I don’ get t’ teach all those bloody fancy classes and get paid mo’, coz I lose all o’ that here that already makes me so happy. ‘m sorry I didn’t realize it earlier,” Harry confesses, emotions wavering in his voice that he clears a few times, taking slow steps over to where you sit.

“You know . . . ,” you begin, listening to the silence that takes your words and probably how much they’re killing him right now, especially when you leave you chair. “I think we’re going to have to tell our students sooner or later, because they’re driving me nuts. So are these tight outfits you keep wearing, they make it really hard not to attack you with kisses whenever I see you.”

A smile explodes on Harry’s lips, the first you’ve seen him wear in days, as you approach him. Your hands sing when they touch his chest, feeling the necklace under the fabric before they wrap around the buttery smooth fabric of his tie.

“Y’know,” he begins sarcastically, a hand coming to his chin where he strokes his new beard, although not quite as majestic as it’s been before. What a little shit. “I think ya might be right on that one, but I like t’ watch ‘em squirm. ‘s been fun t’ hear ‘em get all frustrated ‘bout us not datin’ yet,” he giggles, his rings finding their home on your back once again.

“Little do they know, huh?”

“Oh yes, very li’l,” he chuckles, the dimples falling into his cheeks under his patchy facial hair that you love so much. Quickly, they disappear and his cheeks flatten from their prior roundness. “‘m sorry y’know, so sorry, birdy. I was a proper asshole t’ ya, I feel terrible ‘bout it.”

The tears signal their return when his head falls and you spot one escape and fall down his cheek. You catch it with your thumb before it can get very far and lift his chin up to have him look at you. You thought your heart couldn’t hurt after everything he had said moments ago, but it wrenches inside of your chest at the sight of his red-rimmed eyes, tears falling from them.

“Harry, please don’t cry. It’s okay, we all make mistakes. I just want you to know that I am committed to you, so much so that I can’t wait to move in with you . . and Gatsby.”

“I know, ‘m sorry I ever doubted it, I dunno why I did. ‘m committed too, coz I love ya so much, birdy. I love you,” he weeps, shaky words hitting the air that you pass when you pull him into your arms. “I didn’t know I could miss ya so much ova jus’ four days,” he continues, his hot tears meeting your neck as his beard leaves tickles after brushing it. Your heart breaks even further at the feeling of his chest trembling with a sob against yours.

“I know, Harry, me too,” you coo, raking your fingers through his hair as he holds onto you, his face hiding in your neck.

“Plus, I couldn’t take tha job coz ‘m not gonna be one o’ those shit parents who makes Gatsby spend a different weekend at each parent’s house. Also I miss you makin’ me lunches, I neva rememba,” he cries against your skin, his subsequent giggle gracing your ears. He’s the first to pull away and your heart aches a little harder at the tears painting his face, ones you try to make quick work of.

“Good, I don’t think I’d have the heart to tell him, so it’d have to be you.”

“‘Fair is foul and foul is fair’,” he pouts dramatically, quoting a certain William, the pad of your thumb swiping below his left eye, feeling his feathery eyelashes against your skin. “Guess we’ll hafta stay togetha then,” he sighs sarcastically, pursing his lips that soon sing out a bubbly laugh still adorned with the remnants of tears.

“Oh, I’m sure our students would harass us to get back together if that were ever to happen,” you giggle, adoring his wispy dark eyelashes that clump together with wet tears, his murky green eyes peeking up at you beneath them.

“Ya, they’re gettin’ ratha rowdy ‘bout that, aren’t they?” he notes aloud, clucking his tongue as if disappointed then sniffling. Your thumb wanders to his forehead to smooth out the crease that’s formed between his eyebrows, pulling his eyes to yours. “‘d love t’ tell ‘em but ‘s fun t’ watch ‘em go crazy right now, but sumday, ya.”

“Yeah, we have to make it fun first,” you agree, catching the last tear with your finger, hands wandering to his tie the same dark color of his button-up.

“Right, you are,” he hums, eyes darting to your lips as you slowly yank on the tie, bringing him closer. “I knew I hadd’a smart birdy.”

His smile dissolves against your lips that surround his in the sweetest kiss containing the unsaid words and forgotten kisses from the last few days. Sorry’s pass between your lips as his warm rings press into the small of your back, the tie caught between your hands until you let go, certain he’s not going anywhere anymore. His lips sputter a laugh against yours when both of your hands come to caress his lovely bum that you squeeze greedily.

“Watch those naughty finga’s o’ yers now,” he warns through hooded eyes, the bitter smell of black coffee dancing across your face.

“Or what?” you reply with a shrug, the both of you feeling your fingers slowly dive underneath the tight fabric of his pants.

“Or yer gonna catch me without any briefs on one o’ these times,” he replies, trying to keep a straight face until the words leave his mouth that soon pecks yours.

“Oooo, I’d like to see that happen,” you tease, wiggling your eyebrows at him until he collapses into laughter above you.

“I dunno what ‘ll do with ya, bird, with a potty mouth like that.”

“Well, you can’t dump me now, we have a son together,” you shrug dramatically, mouth pressed into a fake line as you watch his eyes roll into the back of his head.

“Very true, altho’ a crappy joke there. I guess I might hafta kiss that potty mouth outta ya.”

“I’d like to see you try, Mr. Styles,” you counter, happy to see the tears have abated from the both of you, hoping you don’t find them again for months and months.

“Oh, would you, Ms. Y/N? ‘ll take that bet, and if I win it, ya hafta come ova and make Gatsby and I dinna t’night. And have wine with me and stay tha night, gotta get su’more practice befo’ ya move in with me soon,” Harry continues, a smug expression donning his features.

“Deal,” you say, squealing when his hands come under your bottom and lift you up to sit you on a nearby desk. The words on your lips disappear when he plants his lips on yours hastily, hands drifting along your waist. “You better get it all out before our field trip next week.”

“‘The lady doth protest too much, me thinks,’” Harry replies, quoting Shakespeare with a funny look on his face, replacing his lips on top of yours. Your tongue scoops up and into his mouth that he parts for you, tasting the Bit-O-Honey he just had that you’re sure his pockets are full of if you checked. You giggle into his mouth when your hands brush against his thighs, sure enough feeling the hard candies in his pockets on your way to explore his bum again.

“‘We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep,’” you recite as your nose draws a line across his cheek moments later, leaving him silent. A smile curls upon his cheeks at the sound, astonishment playing with his features.

“Our students are right, we really should be t’getha, birdy. I love me a Shakespeare girl. ‘The course of true love never did run smooth,’ but I think ours ‘s doin’ pretty well, if I do say so meself.”

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kusunokihimea · 7 years ago

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[ Art || Background ]

[ Hey y’all! So uh...while this iteration of my dinky blog isn’t three years old, I have been lurking around this site in total (for RP) for three years now, as of...technically yesterday, eh heh. And good golly there has been a LOTTA growth since then. My muses and I have come a looong way, in regards to writing, editing, and getting to know so many people over the course of three years. Some have come and gone, and some have stayed...though few since those beginning days when Sylvie had NO idea what they were doing, ha!

And though I’ve only recently gone through my second revamp, there’s still a gaggle a’y’all that have stuck around. Some even from those very beginning days. So, I’d like to take a minute to just...gush about some of ya, cuz you’ve made being in this community fun, welcoming, and honestly like a second family to us. While I don’t have time to ramble about EVERYONE, I’m gonna do my darnedest to do as much as I can, and just...say thank you for making me able to stay this long, and have as much fun as I’ve had. It means the world to me <3

Now, on to the ramblin’! Under a cut, cuz...it’s probably gonna get long xD Still, I’ll try to be brief so it doesn’t get too out of control, lmao ]

[ The Fam Jam ]

So these are the peeps that have stuck by me through thick, thin, and many blog changes xD Those who have consistently interacted with us, and have developed amazing bonds between muns and muses alike. <3

@13lilypetals - Little sib Ghost. Fellow SH trash. Also a multimuse juggler. You’ve been someone who’s become a close friend, wonderful RP partner, and a great member of the community as a whole. Keep up the awesome work!

@ascxndinggg Matt, my son, darling baby boy =P With such a creative, intelligent mind, wonderful diverse muses, and one of the few things keeping me sane both on this hellsite, and in life in general. Love you bud.

@duckbuttavenger / @cutelittlemuffins / @straycatanbu Sanjiii, such a sweetheart. I love your beans, and I love you! You’re always a blast to write with, even if we know some muses better than others. They’re all 11/10!

@despairinghxpe / @masterofwar Phoenix, omg I’m so glad you’re back. I’ve had some of my most in-depth threads with you and your boyos. I always look forward to your replies. And you’re such a darling - always a joy to talk to ooc about our beans!

@gentlegraceful-and-fatal Dani, I know you’re not on much anymore, and I hope life’s not kickin’ your butt too hard. You put so much love into your muses, and I love when they interact with mine. Here’s hoping you can creep around more soon enough x3

@frogprinceus / @redlineoffate / @red-winged-hero-hawks Omg Mitsuki where do I even start with you xD You have such a wonderful cast of muses, so many of which have bonded so wonderfully with mine. I always enjoy our interactions, no matter what combo of beans!

@flakclad I know you’re not on too much anymore Rhi, but I still love your boys (tho I think this is the only one I’m currently following after remaking, whoops). You give them such wonderful personalities, and I love writing with them any day of the week.

@yukaikokoro Another OC bean! Star oh my goodness, you’re such a great friend and writing partner - you let me drown you in all my OG verse shenanigans, and I love it xD

@twojackalsandahedgie Apricot! I’ve stalked you around through a few blogs now, haha! You’re such a sweetheart, and your muses are great. I can’t wait to see how your blog takes shape once it’s even MORE of a multimuse!

@hotmessofmuses I’ve loved all our threads, Bailey - you write all your muses so well, and I’ve been so psyched to get to interact with them, especially in the famjam verses. It’s so much fun. And good luck with all you’re doing irl!

@roaringxflames Lief dear, I know you’re not active much anymore, but I just want you to know I’ve enjoyed all of our interactions, here and on other bloggus. I hope life is treating you well, and you find greener pastures in new fandoms :3

@cinderspewed / @bitebxck Oh goodness Verona, you’re just! Such a cool person, and your muse is so dynamic and intriguing and drives my marshmallow nuts xD I hope school isn’t crushing your soul too badly, haha! Good fortune, friend!

@kyuuzuchiha / @thebubbledome / @xkaekox BOOOOO I LOVE YOUR BEANS. I know that feel about having trouble writing/catching up lately, but! No matter your pace, we love writing with you, and I hope you find your groove soon!

@quiet-kunoichi Ahaha, Jack, another fellow OC bean. I love your muse. I think you know that but just to be sure, lemme say it again. And you’re great. You’re both great. I love ya. And I hope you’re well!

@abyssaldespair Meeeg...your boyo has stolen my gorl xD We’ve had so many shenanigans since we met I can’t count them, but gosh you’re so fun to write with, and even tho you’ve abandoned me (jk, jk), I still love writing our babbs in drabbles. I will sink with this ship xD

@wanderingmelodies MEEEY I know you’re super swamped but I hope you know I love ya and your beans and I hope you get your zine work done! Good luck and stuff, and hopefully life lets up for you soon, dear!

@multicanon-rp Bruh, I love your Itachi (and I’ve seen snippets of your other beans, they’re great!). It’s been so much fun to see him and Ryū get to know each other from that initial drama. I love writing with ya!

@hushedsunflower *squints at* Who even is this nerd? Oh right, you’re the one responsible for me even being here! Not to mention one of my oldest friends, nbd =P I love your Hina, and I’m glad you’ve gotten back into RP, my friend~

[ The Inspirations ]

These are the ones I’ve maybe not RPed with as much as I’d like, but who inspire me to be better in my writing, my lore creation, and characterization! <3

@hyugainterior / @clanburden Your storytelling skill just...blows my mind, holy smokes. Though I miss bits and pieces, your narrative on HI has been enrapturing, and I always try to catch all the drabbles. I never know what’s gonna happen next, but I can’t look away - it’s like a beautiful, horrible car crash! With Hinata in the driver’s seat!

@sennenryuu / @raikirisms N, your OC is just...so amazingly in-depth. As someone who adores making lore and characters, yours has been one I’ve looked up to since being introduced to your blog. And don’t even get me started on your Kakashi, or how beautiful your art is, my goodness. I love it all!

@houndnin / @mactabilis A blast from the past! I know you’re uber busy so you prolly won’t see this, but omg your muses are the bee’s knees. Another well-crafted OC, and an awesome take on Kakashi. Definitely a blog that inspires me to keep improving!

@masshirohebi Oh goodness, this blog is one I’ve looked up to for a long time. You write Orochimaru so beautifully. They’re so intricate and full of life and detail. Your replies are so well put-together, it always blows me away. I know our interactions have been brief, but I’ve enjoyed them so much!

[ The Neat Beans ]

Those on the ‘outer fringe’ - maybe we’ve poked at each other’s muses once or twice, but we’re still workin’ on getting muses to know each other - here’s to more! <3

~*~ @silverfaxg ~*~ @ketsuekki ~*~ @i-minato-chan ~*~ @kotoanatsukami ~*~ @crackuzu ~*~ @the-younger-umino ~*~ @origami-goddess ~*~ @inumbratte / @willsoffire / @leafstruck ~*~

[ The Lurkers ]

And last (but certainly not least), the beans I’ve not really talked to, but appreciate for bein’ around nonetheless! Never be afraid to say hi <3

~*~ @betterhealing ~*~ @tennome ~*~ @hiramekxrei ~*~ @tentaiiled / @sandsharrk ~*~ @dirt-ninja ~*~ @strengthwilled ~*~ @silentyoru ~*~ @blossomfury ~*~ @inotheflower ~*~ @cxmpetitivecaptain ~*~ @malacusleana ~*~ @granddiviner ~*~ @avengeriiism ~*~ @xchidoriisms ~*~

All right, I really hope that’s everyone - my following list is still rather short after the move, so I wanted to at least give everyone a mention and a lil thank you. Here’s to another three years, fates allowing! Thank you all again for your support - it means the world <3

#sylvie speaketh [ ooc ]#three year tumblr anniversary #follow forever #long post #veeery long post lmao #i'm pretty sure that's EVERYONE i'm following (that's an RP blog)#if i forgot you i'm so so so sorry #i got like four hours of sleep so i'm v tired #just poke me and i'll add you!#but i went through my following list so #hopefully everyone is there #and hopefully i got everyone with the same mun laid out right xD #sometimes i forget if muns have more than one bloggu ahaha

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coffeeandcalligraphy · 6 years ago

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Water Babies + The Light When You Close Your Eyes | Writing Update

Hey People of Earth!

*This update is a few weeks old, whoops!*

It’s been some time since I last posted, and so much has happened! I’ve been uber busy with school (October and November always suck?) but I’m back for a quick writing update.

I’ve mentioned it on here before, but if you don’t know, I’m actually taking a writing class]! It’s split up into four units (I think lol), and so far, we’ve covered: intro to writing, poetry, and we’re currently working on fiction! For fiction, we were asked to write two short stories (actually technically flash fiction but), and this update is about these stories.

(I meant to post this weeks ago as it was finished, however, I’ve held out in case I decide to fix these up in the future and publish them, so no excerpts this update, but I’ll be back with a FOSTERED update chock full of excerpts soon! I’m sorry!!)

WATER BABIES:

So the first story I’ll be updating you on is a short piece I wrote called Water Babies!

The original draft was a pretty easy write, and made me realize how much I definitely wanted to revisit this story. (Which, this just in, future Rachel who is editing this post, has currently started! More on this later!)

What’s it about?

WATER BABIES follows twelve-year-old Bea and her seventeen-year-old stepbrother Pluto as they con their way across America, when they get wrapped up in a murder committed by Pluto.

Conception:

For this assignment, we were tasked to write a story based off a prompt (around 200-300 words). I didn’t have many ideas for a story (and by not many I mean zerooooo), so took to reading some short story collections as preparation (ya girl is not hecka experienced with short fiction). After reading Emily Geminder’s Houses, I was uber inspired!

When I sat down to write the story, I knew I saw the image of a boy standing on a hotel porch smoking, and the first paragraph flowed easily from there.

Most of the plot meat came to me whilst on a night drive with my folks! In the initial draft, Bea and Pluto were just sort of meandering across America, but after handing in the story and brainstorming further, quickly concluded that they’re both definitely thieves (and pretty good ones, if I do say so) who quickly get wrapped up in a murder after a stint goes very wrong.

There was a bit of a *tragic* twist to this story, that being we had to start the short story with a writing prompt. I mean no offense to the writer of these prompts, lol, but they weren’t all my faves. I really wanted to choose one that didn’t imply a plot, so I chose: “Leaving two years ago was the best thing I ever did.” <<< The writing prompt was required to be the first sentence (the prompt I chose is actually dialogue).

The writing bit:

I drafted this story rather quickly and painlessly! The first draft came out to be around 800 words. @sarahkelsiwrites slashed it (thankfully), and cut it down to about 400 words. In terms of prose, I didn’t find it was anything special since I was definitely restricting myself so I could hit that word count. Looking back, that wasn’t the best decision, because I think the line level struggled a bit (was a little flat), so I’m happy that I’m redrafting!

Speaking of redrafting, I’ve been very slowly chipping away at this story since the beginning of the month, and it’s been going rather well! I’ve written about 270 words, which I’m fairly happy with. The story definitely started off in a completely different place than the original, though I’m really happy with the change! Also, murder in the first sentence, folks. Murder in the first sentence.

The aftermath

The story I handed in is super short, and will serve as the third-ish scene in the story! By the time I’m editing this post, I’ve already begun the redraft of the actual story, and OH BOY does it begin with a bang (literally).

I made an aesthetic for WATER BABIES (which prolly will have a title shift who knows):

THE LIGHT WHEN YOU CLOSE YOUR EYES

I haven’t written many stories, however, I feel like I can officially deem this a Classic Rachel story because OH BOY.

What’s it about?

THE LIGHT WHEN YOU CLOSE YOUR EYES follows twenty-four year old Leigh Suzuki as she seeks revenge against her ex-best friend, ft. a voodoo doll. This story has basically the same plot as a music video @sarahkelsiwrites and I made last year, wherein Sarah was a murderous jealous twin who spotted me with another friend, and spends the entirety of Daughter’s Burn It Down making a voodoo doll/clone of me, and subsequently, stabbing said voodoo doll to (what we can assume is) death. (January of last year was a dark time folks HA.)

Conception:

The concept of this story is a lil funny. I talk about this in the most recent writing vlog I’m editing, but this story was for a focus on character assignment. Meaning, we were required to design a new character and write a story featuring them.

I think we had about a week to complete this story, and being the *weak bitch writer* I am, had a great idea, and decided to just make a character profile using my character Emily from FOSTERED.

If y’alls don’t know, I’m a Pantser. I don’t plan things and that’s what’s always worked best for my process. Can y’alls guess what happened.

I spent about an hour writing out a character profile for the assignment, as well as wrote up some exercises for it, and then got ready to write the story. I had a list of ideas for the scenes, assuming I’d write about a witch doctor of some sorts. And would you believe it! I started writing the story, and it wasn’t even the right character. It was most definitely not the story I planned, nor did the voice suit any of the characteristics I’d planned. lol.

What was funny is, Leigh (derived from Emily do u see me do u see me) totally had FOSTERED’s MC’s voice (Reeve we love u), and it just caught me by surprise. I was predicting I’d write a very upbeat story and instead it’s violent. Not predictable at all. I’d say Leigh definitely has some differences, however she’s very much if Reeve and Emily mushed into one.

The writing bit:

I drafted most of this story in a 15 minute writing session, and came out with around 600 words. After finishing it up (adding an actual beginning lol), it came up to 1100 words. It was supposed to be around 600, so I cut it down to around 700 (saved the original tho because there is so much SALT)! This story is basically a salty rant about friendship gone wrong.

The aftermath:

I handed in this story knowing it would be sort of a gamble. I wasn't sure how my teacher would feel about the POV/the style in general since it’s kind of severe/violent (#catholic school lmaooo), but she really liked the story!

Like I said before, there won’t be any excerpts in this post, but I still hope you guys enjoyed this update! I’ll be back with more stuff in 2019, folks, buckle up! Happy New Year!

--Rachel

#writing #writingupdates #writerblr #amwriting #shortstories

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studiobeebo · 7 years ago

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Summer Daze (Kirishima Eijirou x Fem! Reader)

OKAY i want to start off by saying im really, really sorry this took so long. my motivation has been horrible and i just really didn’t want to make something that was lackluster so i decided to wait until i was more motivated instead

BUT ANYWAYS, this is the scenario for the 1,000 followers giveaway first place winner @ri-leuters following the prompt:

okay so pronouns would be she/her and i'd love this done with our local ball of sunshine kirishima! so i guess they could go out together into a sunflower field or just a normal flower field for a date and just have an all around good time together! also this would be great with lots of kisses and cuddles bc i live for that shit. also last minute request (but you could totally let this slide if you want) but ive always found this endearing; so when they kiss could kirishima pull back for a sec and just freak out over how s/o has tasty lips (prolly bc of her lip balm) and then they just talk about it for a sec and then he starts kissing her more bc "i want to taste!" djkdjdwk forgive me

BUT YE!!! SORRY AGAIN IT TOOK SO LONG AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY RI!!

Summer had to be one of Kirishima’s favorite seasons, if not his absolute favorite. While most people could find reasons to hate that time of the year, be it the sometimes sweltering heat or influx of annoying gnats and mosquitos, he always found a way to look past all the negatives of summer. He lived for the nights where he could sit outside with friends and roast marshmallows or go to the beach to go swimming, and with all the different activities he loved to do during the summer, he was absolutely ecstatic that this year, he got to do all those things with you.

When he first realized he had hopelessly fallen for your passionate, bubbly charm and amazingly adorable looks, he knew it would take time to convince himself to finally confess. To him, you were just so perfect and he couldn’t bare to mess up his chances with a girl like you, so he bided his time and got to know you as much as he could, of course throwing in some awkward flirty comments or attempts to impress you along the way. It was in the spring that he decided to set a deadline for himself, saying that he absolutely wanted to ask you out before the end of the school year, and after spending a good week daydreaming about going on fun summer walks through the park or getting ice cream together, he finally gave in and confessed that he had a crush on you before asking if you would go out to the movies with him. You were absolutely over the moon, having had quite the crush on him as well, and from there your blooming relationship was almost cinematic considering how well it was going.

On top of how amazing things were going between the two of you, Kirishima was lucky to have asked you out before his ‘deadline’ so when the weather began to get warm the two of you were already comfortable enough with one another for him to start checking off his list of fun summer dates and the first thing he had been wanting to do was to go hiking with you. The trail he had looked up was actually pretty short, only about a mile, but it let off into an incredible field of wildflowers that were supposedly in full bloom at this time of the year. He wanted to keep that part a secret so it would be a nice surprise for you, but he was just so excited that he couldn’t help but blab about it the whole week before the two of you had decided to go. Despite your slight fears that it would be too grossly hot on the weekend to even enjoy the date your boyfriend had so happily set up, his excitement about it was infectious so you couldn’t help but be excited as well. Plus, when the weekend finally came around it was fun to pack up a little picnic for the two of you and it was awfully cute how concerned he was, double and then triple checking that your shoes were comfortable and that you brought enough water.

Once the two of you arrived to the base of the hill that the path led up to on that saturday morning, you were extremely grateful that the weather was just perfect since you’d be walking uphill for most of the way. The first part of your little hike wasn’t too bad, but you slowly began to get a bit worn out the further you walked and you were a bit jealous at how Kirishima was still perfectly fine while you felt like you could take a nap right there in the middle of the path to give your tired muscles a break. Once he noticed you were falling a bit behind, however, Kirishima was nice enough to slow down and walk by your side until you reached the top of the hill and thankfully, the view was absolutely worth the trouble of getting there.

It looked as if the field of bright green grass and variety of colorful flowers swaying in the comforting breeze spanned out for miles and you must have stood there with a bright, open mouthed smile on your face for a good five minutes just looking out over the expanse of beautiful greenery. You continued to gush about how incredible it was as you pulled out your phone to take a few pictures, hoping to save this memory for years to come, but once you were done the two of you finally decided to walk further into the sunny field to find a nice spot to relax.

It took a few minutes to get everything set up, but it was perfectly picturesque once you had laid out the blanket for both of you to rest on before pulling out all the different snacks and drinks you had brought along with you. The two of you sat happily chatting about whatever came to mind while munching on a variety of fruit and other treats and you must have thanked him a million times for bringing you here to which he just smiled and told you it was no big deal.

“No but seriously! It’s absolutely perfect, I thought it might be too warm but the sun feels amazing since it’s so breezy up here!” You cheered, stretching your arms up above your head before falling backwards to lay your head down onto his lap.

“Yeah it is pretty nice, I’m surprised you’re not cold for once.” He teased, picking at a few of the flowers that were spread out around your makeshift ‘bed’.

“Hey I’m not always cold, I just like wearing your sweaters, that’s all.” You quipped, reaching up to pinch his cheek only for him to wince a bit before sending a pout your way as he continued to work on tugging flowers from the ground.

“What are you doing, anyways?” You asked upon noticing he was fiddling around with the flowers he had collected, sitting up from your lying position on his lap to get a better look.

“Nothing..” He mumbled out, though his concentration was very clearly on his task at hand rather than on you. After a moment he blinked, seeming to have realized that he sort of just brushed you off a bit before tearing his eyes from his little project only to give you a soft smile. “I mean it’s something, but you have to give me a second...and don’t look!”

Your brows furrowed in confusion but you just laughed and shook your head, putting your hands over your eyes to show that you’d keep your eyes on your own business. After a moment you decided to drop your hands to focus on your phone instead, trying not to laugh at the way Kirishima flinched and covered up what was in his hands upon seeing your hands drop before relaxing once he realized you weren’t really watching him.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, you scrolling through some of your notifications and taking a few more pictures to post to your social media and him working on whatever it was he was doing, but eventually the silence between the two of you was broken as he let out an excited “Alright!” before turning back over to you.

“I saw one of these on Mina’s blog, but she didn’t really post instructions so..” He trailed off, holding out what you were guessing was meant to be a flower crown of sorts.

It was more of an..oval shape and the flowers seemed to be forcefully tied together in a misshapen manner. However, while he may have thought it wasn’t as ‘instagram worthy’ as Mina’s flower crowns (Which, you were pretty sure she bought anyways), you thought it was absolutely perfect.

“I think you don’t even need instructions, this look like a pro made it!” You exclaimed, loving the way his face lit up like a puppy being praised for being a good dog. Unfortunately, however, when you went to grab it to wear it, as you figured was his intention for you to do once he gave it to you, the little masterpiece fell to pieces right before you had the chance to lay it atop your head. You scrambled to try to save at least some of it, but your efforts went to waste and you were left with a little pile of flowers sitting in your lap as you looked up slowly with a sheepish smile worn on your face, praying you hadn’t upset him.

“Whoops..Sorry Eiji, I guess my hands are a lot stronger than I thought.” You chuckled before continuing. “But It was so pretty! I feel bad wrecking it like that, I should have taken a picture..”

“Hey that’s alright!” He spoke, sounding a lot happier than you thought he would be considering you just accidentally broke such a cute gift from him before he stood up and grabbed a few of the flowers from the pile that used to be the flower crown he had made for you. After picking up as many as he could, he walked behind you before crouching down and beginning to place a few different flowers throughout your hair. “See? Well, I guess you can’t see, but your hair still looks pretty now! I mean it always looks pretty, but you know what I mean.” He chuckled, moving back to be in front of you and crouching down to the same position to add some more flowers to the front of your hair.

After a moment he appeared..mostly happy with his work, but he was looking at you like an artist looking at one of their paintings that looked pretty good but just needed one last thing to bring it all together. You smiled and chuckled a bit when his face lit up with that ‘Oh, I got it!’ look before he reached over past your shared blanket and grabbed one more flower before moving to push some of your hair behind your ear and then tucking the flower there as well.

“There, that’s good, right?” He asked, adjusting the flower bit, but letting his hand stay near your jaw as his thumb gently ran over your cheek.

“It’s perfect.” You hummed, not even needing to look as you words were more generally aimed at this whole day in general as you leaned in to press your lips against his own. Even though the sun’s rays were plenty warm enough, there was still nothing that could compare to the warmth that bloomed in your chest every time you felt his hand gently cup your jaw and the gentle yet passionate way his lips would mesh with your own.

After a moment, your lips parted from his own and you were a bit surprised to see a look of happy confusion on his face as you pulled away from him a bit.

“..What?”

“You..Kind of taste like one of these flowers smells.”

“...What??” You chuckled out yet again, shaking your head in equal confusion.

“And a lemon! Like a flowery lemon!”

His additional description clicked in your head as you were suddenly reminded of the new lip balm you had bought a few days prior as you laughed out an answer, hardly able to contain yourself considering the adorable look on his face as you stuttered through your words.

“I-It’s my new lip balm! It’s lemon-lavender! Like it?”

“Yeah!” He beamed, “Can I taste again? It’s really sweet..” He continued, but you could tell by the light blush that fanned over his cheeks that the term of ‘tasting’ you was something he didn’t really mean to say aloud, but you didn’t mind either way. You had plenty of kisses to spare for him all the time, and after the amazing day he went through the trouble of planning out, he definitely deserved it.

“Of course.” You giggled, leaning in to peck his lips once more in a more sweet, appreciative way as a sort of thank you. “You can taste as much as you want.”

#mha #mha imagine #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #kirishima eijirou #kirishima eijirou x reader

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marvelbuilt · 7 years ago

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you guys are going to think im a hoe but im gonna list the potential boys in my life. also just like so you dont think im really slutty?? i have never gone the entire way with any of these dates.

andrew - my ex lmao. okay so this is like lowkey never gonna happen but we still see each other and talk and like we have a kitten together so like it’s having a kid lite so we still see each other and the boy he left me for in january after 2 years, broke up with him in a month and we hug and they’re lingering hugs? but again like prolly never gonna happen bc he’s a DISASTER and hooks up with everyone.

dylan - okay lowkey this kid would have probably been my first choice? we started talking and kind of stopped for some reason and then i saw him on grindr when i was home bc he lives closer to my hometown than my school but anyways we’re both like relationship oriented and like our first date went so well?? like he had told me prior to coming that he wasn’t ready for a relationship and i was like okay well i mean im probably not either bc it was kind of like a month or two after andrew but he BOUGHT ME FLOWERS??? and i cooked him dinner and we like cuddled and made out and stuff and it was so nice. he’s part of that school that did 13 reasons why not and he like goes to suicide prevention conferences and he’s going to be going to a different university than me but it’s like technically better than mine and he’s so smart?? and our second date was good as well and idk? i like him so much and we snapchat everyday. but he stopped calling me cutie? and i still call him that and sometimes he calls me “b” but iDEK like i think he’s probably talking to other boys or something and he always avoids when i ask if we can hangout again but hes always working now so idk.

andrew - okay this is another andrew and he lives in the town next to mine and he works at the capital of my state and he like studied political science and our politics are very similar and we are just similar in general. his parents are trump supporters so that’s yikes. also he’s not out to his family at all WONDER WHY and he’s very?? like he plays soccer ALL THE TIME. anyways aside from that, our personalities are very similar and we hung out like 4 times in a row and idk? he’s kinda cheap ngl, but i can’t blame him too much bc we are young still. but anyways all the dates went well and it seemed like we were really into each other. then i had finals so i was like yo i cant hang out until theyre over. and then the week after, i got sick so i didnt want to hang out and then like he was playing soccer all the time? and then he got sick? and now like? ugh he’s the worst texter and i texted him and asked him i did something wrong or anything and he was like no of course not im just busy and soccer and then he did say anything else? like jfc i dont want to do all the chasing so i just havent texted him in like a week or 2 and so i dont even know? like everything was fine but he’s such a boy when it comes to texting i fucking cant

patrick - okay this kid omfg probably never going to happen but i just want to talk about it. so this kid is in my program at school and so we started talking bc grindr and we matched on tinder and he’s cute and really smart. so anyways, the weird thing was that i literally never met the kid and he’s in the same residential college as me and like we’re in the same grade? so ODD right? well anyways i tried to schedule a date about 800 fucking times and he cancelled so many times omfg. like constantly cancelling. and he was really sweet to me and stuff over messaging. so school FINALLY ends and im like okay maybe NOW we can have a date. he cancelled a couple more times and FINALLY he’s like okay sure. so he picked me up from work, which was lowkey nice, but then we went to starbucks and he like?? spent most of the date not understanding why anyone would major in my major and how international relations and arabic are the most important majors and how he’s going to get such a good job and like he doesn’t understand why some things need to be equal and he’s like “ive never voted republican but” and im just like jfc i cant handle you insulting my major. but outside of my major, he was nice enough i guess? he’s hot so there’s that but he then just dropped me off and now he’s in jordan until like august and he’s like “yeah i’ll hit you up when i get back so we can hang out again” LIKE LMAO DONT FUCKING LIE. and he like didn’t respond to my message about adding him on social media after the date so lol this kid is like whatever

skyler - okay skyler was the date i had last night and i just met him last night? and omfg i dont think ive ever met someone more different from me that was still gay? okay so this kid is my age, but he goes to the community college, so i hadn’t met him until just recently. so he’s like? nice af. he’s half-mexican, half-white (this comes into play later) and from a small town. but omfg, we got lots to discuss. so he openly considers himself conservative. said that “if i could choose to be straight, i would be”, said quote “i dont believe in pride parades and i dont fuck with blm” AND IM STRAIGHT CRINGEING and like? i presented my arguments in a civil manner im so proud of myself for not popping off but like he listened and everything but i dont think i changed his mind at all because lol the hardest thing to do ever. anyways, super sweet to me, and very relationship oriented. he gave me a hickey last night whoops luckily it’s on my collarbone so people wont see it. but anyways im really worried that he’s moving too fast at this point? and he like is SO different like he called himself “a manly gay” and im just like fuck off honestly bc that’s so not me and THATS OKAY TO NOT BE A MANLY GAY. and he said he agreed. some of my friends think that maybe i can “educate him” or change his mind. but idk guys this might just be a little too different and im really worried that he mightve voted trump or something and im sorry but i let shit like that ruin relationships bc politics?? it’s my world and i just cant handle people who dont study what i study telling me im wrong about stuff i study? and like if you’re a half-mexican gay man idk how you can be conservative but go off sis be a tree for deforestation. but anyways NOW HE’S TEXTING ME ABOUT A SECOND DATE AND ASKED IF I WOULD GO TO A CLUB? WHICH IS SO NOT MY SCENE. ugh he’s super sweet to me personally but i just think we might just be too different.

SO BASICALLY BOYS ARE JUST SO FUCKED AND I AM JUST LIKE WHAT DO I DO HONESTLY LIKE THE BOYS I LIKE? DONT LIKE ME OR ARE FLAKY AF OR THEY’RE SO DIFFERENT COMPARED TO ME AND I JUST DONT KNOW HOW DIFFERENT I CAN HANDLE PLEASE HELP ME

also i know someones gonna be like “YOU AINT NEED NO MAN” you’re right karen i dont but dating is lowkey fun but now im just conflicted about all of these things i could scream. like i am just getting back out there and seeing where things go and i really dont see what’s wrong with that

#☼ // ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵃᵛᵉᶰᵍᶦᶰᵍ (ooc)#lowkey save me #LOWKEY DONT JUDGE ME #i needed to get this off my chest

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hoebagbasicbitch · 5 years ago

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the sweetest omegle convo i’ve ever had

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say STAND WITH HONG KONG AGAINST THE CCP!

You both like the regrettes.

You: hi!

Stranger: hiii

You: skjakjf my search for the regrettes has never turned up anything until now

You: im so excitel lol

Stranger: RIGHT

Stranger: same

Stranger: wait are u from twitter lmao

You: we are a small but proud fanbase

You: no i am not

Stranger: oh damn

Stranger: even crazier then

Stranger: so true

You: do u have any other socials

Stranger: I have insta! what's urs

You: phoebelink.art

You: hbu? i'll follow u

Stranger: omg I love ur acc

Stranger: I just followed u <3

You: thanks!

Stranger: :))))

You: don't be alarmed if i start peeping thru ur posts to see what other music u listen to i'm desperae for new artists

Stranger: omg no ur ok!!

Stranger: do u want rec

Stranger: recs

You: love them but u can only listen to the regrettes and swmrs for so long

You: yes pls!

Stranger: do u...like wallows

You: yes

You: they are coming to my state in august for a festival and i'm so excited

Stranger: oh shit

Stranger: wait what fest is in august

Stranger: I thought they were all earlier

You: hinterlands

Stranger: where's that

You: it is mostly country music but there's some indie shit

You: it's in iowa so it's all hicks lol but i will suffer to we wallows live

Stranger: oh shit

Stranger: why have I not heard about this

Stranger: im so confused rn

You: idk

You: it's a smaller sort of festival and it's like in a cornfield

Stranger: damn

Stranger: im bout to go

You: bet lol

Stranger: im like the biggest wallows stan its so bad

You: ahaha

You: the real question is did it happen before or after 13 reasons whyg?

Stranger: when I stanned?

You: ya

Stranger: they actually didn't even become wallows until right after 13rw

Stranger: but

You: oh whoops

Stranger: it was after, but I've never even seen it

You: got it that's more what i meant lol

Stranger: I started liking them through a mutual friend

You: valid

Stranger: if u have never seen them, they're the best

You: i'm not a stan but i do really like their music

You: i have not seen them live but i'm a huge regrettes stan

Stranger: gotcha

Stranger: as u should be

Stranger: tbh maybe Lydia will go!

You: i fucking hope

Stranger: she goes to a lot of shows w them

Stranger: bro

Stranger: speaking of her

Stranger: at my wallows show last month I like saw her and waved at her n then she came and sat behind me

You: WHAT

Stranger: like literally. right behind me

Stranger: and I was too scared to say anything

Stranger: :)

Stranger: every time she would laugh she'd like laugh in my ear

Stranger: cutest laugh ever bro

Stranger: her and

Stranger: whoops

You: i saw her live in cleaveland this summer and if corona doesn't cancel it i intend to see them when they tour with the struts

Stranger: wait

Stranger: when is that happening

You: this summer

You: their site has all the dates

Stranger: wtf

Stranger: I didn't know they had us dates

You: they updated it i think cause coachella is getting moved im pretty sure

You: they're just opening but i am for sure buying pit tickets and i will ahve to learn to love the struts haha

Stranger: oh shit

Stranger: wait

Stranger: theres only like 3 dates

You: if they cancelled i will be very sad

Stranger: :( which one are u supposed to go to

Stranger: thats how I feel about my wallows shows, I think they're gonna be postponed/cancelled

You: the one on may 31

You: for me it is still on the site

Stranger: oh damn

Stranger: that might be ok

Stranger: I think wallows cancelled their show for may 31

Stranger: they took itoff their website but haven't said anything

You: hmmm

You: we must hope for the best i guess

You: a mosh pit does seem like a prime place to catch corona tho lmao

Stranger: tbh I don't care

Stranger: which is probably bad

Stranger: but lile

You: it would be worth it

Stranger: idk my only happiness comes from touring so

You: yeah i have plenty of bands who i love but they kind of stay in place they don't really tour

Stranger: damn really

You: and unfortunataly i don't live in cali so i can't ever see them live

Stranger: felt

Stranger: I wish I lived in cali so bad

You: and that's on only liking grunge surf punk bads

Stranger: were u like a stan when they did the Fonda show afterparty homecoming thing

Stranger: I've never had such bad fomo in my life

You: i don't think so

Stranger: oh my god

Stranger: it was crazy

You: usually i don't like concerts cause they make me disociate lol but i just let it happen for lydia night

Stranger: oh shit really

Stranger: I love shows

You: no like they are very fun

You: it just is like an out of body experience haha

Stranger: damn

Stranger: idk I never have that

You: it's like an anxiety thing i think

You: it just happens it's kinda odd

Stranger: it's weird I have like bad anxiety about most things but somehow I have like none at concerts

Stranger: like im just the best possible version of myself idk

You: i feel that

You: like in certain situtions i definitely just don't feel it at all

Stranger: right

You: there are so many bands i would give a limb to see live thouhg

You: like one of my all-time favs is SWMRS ugh love them

Stranger: yupppppp I love

You: and hot flash heat wave opened for the regrettes when i saw them live

You: so good

Stranger: omg stop

Stranger: im jealous

You: but i have a whole list of bands to see live on my bucket list

Stranger: I feel like I've lucked out and I've seen almost all of the people I want to see

Stranger: well like all of my favorites

You: that's nice

Stranger: that being said im crazy so I like to see people 5+ times but

You: my main thing is i'm kind of new to the genre like only been super into it for two years but

You: that is still fun tho

Stranger: oh gotcha

Stranger: wait how old are u

You: 16

Stranger: oh and u said u live in Iowa right so I feel like maybe not a lot of people go there

Stranger: aw ur baby

You: ahaha

You: the alt scene is very dead here

Stranger: true

Stranger: tbh no one comes to my state either

Stranger: bc its so far out of the way

You: what kind of area are u in

Stranger: florida

You: ah

You: so the opposite of cali lmao

Stranger: yup

Stranger: yet im prob gonna go to cali when wallows have a show there

Stranger: lmao

You: wirth it

Stranger: yes

Stranger: I also might go for harry styles but idk yet

You: he's coming to iowa i think but i might b wrong

Stranger: omg really

Stranger: u should go

You: yeah we have a fat arena but i don't think i can afford tickets

Stranger: :(

You: i don't have a job RIP and i;m not getting one anytime soon cause all the businesses are closed

Stranger: damn yea I felt that

Stranger: I do have a job but im not going rn

Stranger: like im making them leave me off the schedule

You: probably smart

Stranger: bc im so scared of getting my mom sick

You: yeah that would be shitty

Stranger: yup

You: my mom works for the school district that i go to and my dad works from home so we are all chillin but that prolly sucks

Stranger: oh damn

Stranger: yeah thats good

Stranger: my whole family is staying home

You: we don't have a stay in place order yet but we haven't left the house in weeks basically either

You: my school is about to get cancelled too

You: it's just not good for anyone

Stranger: about to??

Stranger: is it not cancelled yet

You: well spring break got extended to april 13 but the superintendent is making an announcement on friday apparently

Stranger: oh damn

Stranger: yea here it's closed until the end of the year

You: its tough for us cause we are supposed to go online but our district can't afford it

You: like we need to close but only 40% of kids have internet acess

You: so they can't

Stranger: oh fuck

Stranger: idk :/

You: i'm lucky to have it tho

You: me wasting my precious internet acess on talking to adults on omegle lmao

Stranger: LMAO

Stranger: treu

Stranger: true

Stranger: oh well

You: i just want to relive middle school while i'm quarantined ya know

You: i was not monitored as a child bahabha

Stranger: omg

Stranger: same

Stranger: lmao

Stranger: I used to be on here all the time

You: like how am i not dead

You: genuinely thinking about all the shit i did in like 2012,,, what??

You: who let me near the family computer and then just didn't look over my shoulder

You: anyway i should probs go to sleep

You: it was nice talking to you tho!

Stranger: omg u too!!!!

Stranger: sorry it took me forever to respond

Stranger has disconnected.

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buttchuggthis40wme · 8 years ago

Text

12 Steps from Death

David stepped into the small empty conference room and flicked a switch. The fluorescent bulbs sputtered to life one by one with a gentle hum, like old men being roused from a nap. The shadows lingered for a moment though, and for the briefest instant David was gripped by a cold, sickening terror. He shook his head and suddenly the darkness had passed, warmth returned to his frightened husk. He collected himself for a moment, assuring himself that it was probably nothing, and that it was time to get back to the task at hand. David stood in the doorway, hands on his hips, a familiar smile taking shape as he began the weekly routine, the fear had now completely faded. He wheeled a plain-looking folding table into the corner of the room, frowning at the coffee stains that speckled its beige cloth. He lined up the towers of paper cups next to the two large black beverage dispensers, marked WATER and COFFEE. David surveyed the modest spread, setting a box of Costco brand cookies right next to the packets of sugar. David poured himself a cup of joe, made it the same way he always had, with two sugar packets and healthy dollop of cream. The clock ticked softly overhead. The silence broke as David brought in the brown metal folding chairs. The chairs clanged harshly under David’s armpits, revealing their age with every rusted creak. Their light brown metallic shine matched the color of his coffee. He brought twenty chairs, but knew all too well that no more than four of them would be filled tonight. He arranged them into a wide circle, all equidistant, all perfectly angled inward. David found pleasure in these little perfections. He briefly marveled at his work before adding the final touch, a laminated teal poster taped just beneath the wall clock. The poster was simple, just a numbered list of rules. At the top of the poster it’s title read, THE 12 STEPS: in bold, impact font. A second poster hung above the concession table, directly across from the 12 steps, as if they occupied two ends of a single spectrum. The second poster showed a young, military aged black man dressed in fatigues, his head tilted away from the viewer, saluting into the distance. In the background, a pair of jets fly through a soft pink sunset. The image is bound by a black border, in the style of a motivational poster. its tagline reads SEMPER FI: Respect the Corps, Respect yourself. David didn’t even see that poster anymore, it had been here since he got assigned to the room, and probably long before that. It and a million other posters like it decorated nearly every room of the Marine Base. By now all of them had combined into a single image in David’s head, and were as inconspicuous as the patterns that formed in the rough, cream-colored stucco walls. David checked the clock, then his watch. He sipped on his saccharine coffee and stretched his legs, the men would be here soon. David checked his watch again, 6:54. The sound of sneakers on linoleum squeaked toward the conference room, and David’s head perked up just in time to catch the first guest as he shuffled through the door. “Evenin’ Marcus” He said casually, standing up to greet him. “Aw Siddown David,” Marcus said, swiping a cookie with one hand and waving David off with the other, grinning as he did. Marcus was a short man, hunched over from years of a sedentary lifestyle. He had a short, well-trimmed beard that shone white against his dark skin. “How’d Lexi do on that Spanish test?” Marcus asked, not even looking up as he poured himself a cup of black coffee. “She says she hasn’t gotten the grade back yet, but she thinks she did pretty good.” David often forgot just how receptive Marcus was. David never liked sharing personal information with clients, but Marcus was always genuinely interested in what was happening in his life. David presumed it was because he didn’t have much else going on. Marcus waddled over next to David and plopped down next to him with a thud, almost spilling his coffee. The reflection of his glasses made his eyes hard to track. “I know I tell ya this all the time David, but you’re real lucky that Lexi takes to school as good as she does.” Marcus took an enormous bite out of his cookie, a few crumbs trickled down onto his green striped button up. He brushed them off then adjusted his seat. “I must’ve driven my poor momma crazy with all the bad grades I brought home, the things that I made that woman put up with.” He closed his mouth to finish chewing his food, chuckling a couple times under his breath, perhaps reliving some old memory. David opened his mouth to ask about Marcus’s week, but before he could utter a single word he was interrupted by cacophonous laughter. A pair of twenty-something-year-old men burst into the conference room, one voice was loud and commanding, the other voice was quieter but his laugh more than made up for it. Both were indifferent to David and Marcus’s conversation. “You think I’m fuckin’ with ya? I swear to god bro I walked up to this girl doin’ some squats in the gym yesterday, she’s lookin’ fine as hell. Way I figure, she’s prolly hitched to some jarhead who’s out in bumfuck nowhere for the next six months. So I get to thinkin’, maybe she’s feeling a little lonely? maybe she might some company…” The other man pours himself some water, from the look on his face David can tell that he’s invested in the story. “I’m about to hit on her, and guess fucking what dude?” “What?” “I was so busy lookin at her ass, I didn’t even see this broad was squatting more than I am!” Both men started whooping with laughter, the one with the water laughs so hard that he spills a little on the carpet. The other man caught his breath and continued. “So now I’m fuckin stunned, right? How’s some high school sweetheart out here crushin’ my PR’s and still lookin’ like she’s ready for the homecoming dance? So, I check her name tag, and later I looked ‘er up in the database. Turns out the bitch is a friggin Scout. Sniper. Bro. First in her goddamn class! I’m just a fuckin marine thinkin’ I’m gonna get some tail, and I almost got it in with the deadliest woman in the room! who knew!” The two laughed again but less hard, then finally turn to acknowledge David and Marcus. “Howdy boys” The loud one says, sitting down in the seat closest to the door, about as far away from David and Marcus as possible. “Hey guys” says the water boy, who sits down next to the loud one. “Aaron, Andre, glad y’all could make it” David said warmly, as though he wasn’t made uncomfortable by Aaron’s loud and misogynistic banter. Marcus gave them a small wave. Both Aaron and Andre were dressed in their fatigues, even down to the boots. The only reason they were even in here was to keep from getting court-martialed. David pursed his lips and drummed his hands lightly on his thighs. “Whelp, we got a couple minutes till session starts, but seeing as this is about as big as our crowd usually gets I think we can just move right alo-” “Excuse me?” David looked up at the young man standing in the doorway. His hair was short, but it’s not high and tight like an active duty jarhead. From the look of him he probably just got back from a tour. Maybe he was just on some R&R. “This is the AA meeting, right? Am I in the right place?” “Oh yes of course!” David says. It’s been over two months since David’s seen a new face shown up to one of these meetings, and suddenly he didn’t feel so silly about all those empty, perfectly-spaced chairs anymore. “Please, come take a seat with us, we have cookies and coffee if you’d like, we were just about to recite the Serenity Prayer.” “Welcome to the fuckin’ cult” Aaron mutters to the new guy as he sits down. “Ahem,” David says, quieting the room. “Okay, repeat after me” David bowed his head and recited the prayer: “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, Courage to change the things I can, And wisdom to know the difference.” * The men repeated David’s words, though it felt slightly awkward. The Serenity Prayer didn’t sound very good as a call-and-response. “Okay” David said, turning to the new guy. “Since you’re new here, would you mind introducing yourself and maybe telling us why you’re here?” “Uh, okay, my name is Royce, I’m from Topeka Kansas and-” “And you’re an Alcoholic” David interrupted. “You have to say that you’re an alcoholic if you’re here” “Oh” Royce says, annoyed because he was just about to say that. “And I guess I’m an alcoholic.” “Hi Royce” The men all say, unaware of how weird it is that they have to recognize the new guy by his alcoholism before his humanity. Royce continues, “Anyway, I’ve been stateside for over a year now, and I’ve downed a fifth of Jack almost every day since.” Royce scratched his neck in discomfort. “My wife filed for a divorce two weeks ago, and I didn’t know where else to turn. I heard the base held AA meetings and that’s how I wound up here.” Royce chuckles uncomfortably and doesn’t say anything else. The lights hummed loudly for a moment and began flicker. In those seconds of darkness David felt a chill rising in his lower back Marcus was the first to break the silence. “Mind if I ask where you served Royce?” “Korengal Valley,” Royce responded, “two tours.” “Holy shit,” Aaron whispered to Andre. “This dude’s the real deal.” David thought about interrupting, some people didn’t like to talk about fighting, especially on day one. But Royce seemed open enough. David knew enough about the Korengal Valley to know that Aaron was right, it was the real deal. The Korengal Valley was a remote wilderness in northeast Afghanistan, defined by snowy mountains and thick pine forest. The few outposts that the Marines had there were small and remote, making air support and troop reinforcements a rare luxury. It was a place for survivalists. The Afghan fighters who occupied the region were some of the toughest in the country, and they knew the terrain far better than any American. Nobody could go to a place like that and come out clean on the other side. “To tell you the truth, I almost miss the Valley,” Royce said. “Every day I was out there I felt like I had a purpose. One day we would be raiding a weapons depot, another day we’d be negotiating with the local tribes. There were a lot of days where we just did nothing, but we always had a goal.” Royce looked down at his hands. “Out there you know what’s important. All that matters is protecting your buddies, and keeping the bad guys away, but over here? I can’t make heads or fucking tails of anything.” He bit his lip and took a deep breath. “I came home and learned that everyone thinks the war is bullshit. They think that the war I lost myself and my friends fighting for was a mistake. They either let me cut in line at the airport or they call me a baby killer, but nobody actually wants to deal with me, nobody cares what I think.” David thought about saying something, but was stunned by how open Royce was about his feelings. It took Marcus over a year to start talking about his experiences in Vietnam. Aaron and Andre still hadn’t talked at all about what they saw in Iraq. It was a strange position to be in as a social worker. Normally the talks here were about day-to-day struggles with sobriety, and it was rare to see someone cut down to the root of the problem on day one. Marcus looked up, his glasses reflected the ceiling lights so that his eyes became two perfect glowing orbs. His voice was cold but reverent. “I take it you met Death a few times out there didn’tcha Royce? David raised a finger, about to tell Marcus off for asking such an inappropriate question, but Royce responded before he could get a word out. The lights dimmed slightly as he spoke. “In the Korengal, everyone meets Death. It’s hard to explain.” “What did Death look like to you?” Marcus said, leaning over his chair, taking the final bite from his cookie. “It varied. Sometimes when we felt strong, Death was like a pack of wolves. They followed us on raids, howling like mad when we shot our rifles. We felt like reapers when we got into firefights. Death made us fearless, and we would watch them tear our enemies’ limb from limb. I remember feeling unstoppable when Death was on our side. I think our boys stopped praying to God while we were out there, because Death was the only one who brought results.” “Sorry Royce,” Marcus interrupted. “You okay David?” he asked turning his head, his eyes still hidden behind those reflective glasses. David was utterly confused. Normally he was the one in control of these meetings but now he was out of his depth. Was this some kind of weird metaphor? Was Royce blackout drunk? “Sorry,” David said, “Please continue.” “But yeah, Death could be anything at any time.” Royce resumed. “When we shelled Taliban outposts, Death was a huge black giant. It smashed trees and stomped buildings, screaming and vomiting fire as it went. We would go down after the bombings to inspect the damage and find all kinds of horrible things, and it gave us comfort to know that it was Death who did it, and not us.” Royce stared at his shoes. “I’m sorry I feel like I’m hogging the conversation, does anyone else wanna talk?” The room was silent. “What about when Death came for your buddies?” Andre asked. “We formed a weird relationship with Death out there.” Royce answered, frowning as he looked downward. The look in his eyes fell somewhere between shame and frustration, but it was hard to read. “Some days it would turn on us. I watched my best friend get taken right in front of me. Death was a giant black screaming banshee, with long talons made of lead. It tore his throat open not six feet away from me. And my buddy just slumped down under a tree. We took his dog tags and that was it. I barely even remember his name. Death constantly reminded us of the nature of our relationship, and we were wise to stay in our lane. I brought Death six more souls that day, and in return I was safe.” Marcus squinted at Royce in confusion, but with his eyes hidden away only his voice gave away his puzzlement. “You weren’t ever scared of Death?” Royce paused for a moment before speaking. “Not for a while, no. But there was one day when all of that changed. For a long time the enemy never knew the exact location of our base. They would shoot mortars off in our general vicinity, and we’d hear the mountains shake as they missed their targets entirely. One day I was out with a couple squads on patrol, and our radio starts goin’ nuts, they’re saying our base got hit. I get back as soon as I can, and its absolute chaos. They’ve already got body bags lined up, two of our barracks look like the surface of the moon. And Death is everywhere, a flock of black vultures picking at bodies and squawkin’ like hell. After that day Death didn’t ride with us no more.” David watched Royce’s face as he told his story, noting that he described this phantom of death with the same emotional clarity as his earlier commentary. His mind buzzed with questions but chose to keep his mouth shut instead. “What the fuck man.” Aaron said, squinting at Royce. “So Death was like a demon or something?” David looked over to Aaron, feeling some sort of relief that he wasn’t the only one in the room confused by Royce’s angel of death. “I dunno” Royce said, sounding slightly embarrassed. “Death doesn’t look like that at all, man.” Aaron said, “I saw it too.” Marcus butted in, “Death looks like a lot of things to a lot of people.” Now Andre spoke, “Nah man, Aaron and I saw the same thing, Marcus. Ya don’t forget a thing like that.” Aaron spoke up again, his deafening voice obscuring all others. “’Dre and I were both in the first battle of Fallujah, AKA Operation Vigilant Resolve AKA a shit-show to end all shit-shows.” He paused for dramatic effect, it was this professional storyteller act that was Aaron’s least attractive feature from David’s point of view. “We were in that whole mess from day one. At the time, it was glorious. Just imagine being in a convoy of 2000-plus jarheads, rollin’ in on Humvees at night, fighter jets rippin’ by so loud that you worry the sky itself might rip apart. We made the helicopter scene from Apocalypse Now look like kids playing in a sandbox. We were apex predators, tippy top of the food chain, and boy was there prey to be had.” David was perplexed. If Aaron was so proud of his combat in Fallujah why hadn’t he talked about these events sooner? Despite his tough guy attitude Aaron had always shied away from talking about the war. Regardless of how strange the conversation sounded, David was getting some real insight into Aaron’s history, and was intrigued to hear more. “I was up in the turret, and ‘Dre was our driver. We spent most of the night circling the city while our jets rained hell. Now keep in mind, this was all because some hajis blew up four Americans a few weeks earlier, made a big fucking parade out of em. They dragged the bodies through the streets, and hung em up over some big bridge, then sent the footage to the news so everybody could see. It was disgraceful, the biggest fuck you to our country since 9/11. So needless to say we were all pretty pissed. They could’ve drowned the city in blood that day and I wouldn’t have batted an eye.” Aaron paused after he said that, as if he had misspoken. But a second or two passed and he resumed the story. “After that first night, we went all in. I’m talking house-to-house sweeps, shootouts ‘round every corner. And the whole time, I notice this weird little speck hovering above the center of town, no matter where we are you can always see it, especially me, since I’m up in the turret this whole time. Most of the time we’re too busy looking for snipers and trying not to run over IED’s to notice, but throughout the day I see this speck getting bigger and bigger. It was the kind of thing that on a normal day would be a big fuckin’ deal if it showed up in New York City, but under the circumstances at the time I figured there were bigger fish to fry.” Aaron leaned back, letting the weight of his story sink in, looking around the room to gauge the interest level of the audience. To David he looked a lot more like a kid telling a ghost story than a grown man reliving the horror of his past. Yet just as David thought this, Aaron leaned in again, his eyes fell quietly onto a piece of dirt at the center of the circle. “That all changed when we got to the center of town though. We had been told to hold back while a couple tanks cleared a building of snipers. I heard the shot and the whole building came down, you could hear the foundation screaming as it went down. And then we were given a green-light to proceed. Just beyond where the building was, as the smoke cleared, we could see the speck. It was a lot bigger now, and we could see it in much greater detail. That’s when I realized what I was looking at. The object was a huge ball, but it was pulsating, sorta like a heartbeat. I could see hundreds of arms and legs sticking out of it, and the whole thing was jet black. It was dripping tar and smelled like shit.” Aaron’s eyes went around the room again. “From then on, I noticed that with every person that died in that city, every child, every woman, every haji, and every jarhead, it got bigger. We moved around the city like cats hunting mice, chasin’ and fightin’ ‘til we cornered them, then finished ‘em off. But Death was always looming above us, slick with oil and dripping all over us until we couldn’t bear to look at ourselves. Death left a stink on us that we couldn’t wash clean. Fallujah counted as a victory in the history books, but it wasn’t one we wanted to write home about. 800 dead, most of them civilians.” Aaron sat there twiddling his thumbs, a uniquely introspective look soured his face, and the room went quiet again. David had never seen anything like it from a guy like Aaron, and half expected him to jump up and yell ‘gotcha bitch!’ but that moment never came. David searched within himself for something to say, but found himself speechless. What could he possibly say that would resonate with these warriors? He had always tried to see the best in his clients, but it had become far too easy to see people like Aaron as broken drunks who didn’t even have their own best interest at heart. For the first time David saw through to the heart of what these men were saying, that they saw something they couldn’t explain, and were forever hurt because of it. He glanced up at the clock, 7:58. Time was up. David ended the session abruptly and watched the men get up and leave. There was a silent frustration as they left, a certain unfinished business to the whole affair. Marcus seemed especially hurt, perhaps he had his own story to tell. David gathered up the chairs and set them back into the storage closet. He wheeled the table out of the room, putting away the cups and sugar and cream, then dumped the water and coffee into a bathroom sink. Last of all he took down the 12 Steps Poster, disappointed that none of his knowledge of the Big Book** had been relevant for tonight’s meeting. He stepped into his silver Volvo and turned the key. A black cat sat in the grass across from his car illuminated in his headlight beams, licking its paw for a moment before running into the darkness. A primordial fear moved up his spine, and David felt the presence of something unearthly in his vicinity. He pushed these feelings aside and drove into the night.

*: The Serenity Prayer by Reinhold Niebuhr is commonly read at Alcoholics Anonymous meetings **: The Big Book, By Bill Wilson is a general guideline for the Alcoholics Anonymous Dogma

#short story #quick shoutout to anyone who actually reads this whole thing #you da real mvp #myart #nanowrimo #nanowrimo2017 #entry 1

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