#today i bring you sh. tomorrow? who knows

[odinsblog]

“I first started noticing the journalists dying on Instagram. I'm a journalist, I'm Arab, and I've reported on war. A big part of my community is other Arab journalists who do the same thing.

And when someone dies, news travels fast. Recently, I pulled up the list that the Committee to Protect Journalists has been keeping and looked at it for the first time. There are 95 journalists and media workers on it as of today.

Almost everyone on it is Palestinian. Scrolling through, I started to get angry. These were the people carrying the burden of documenting this whole war.

Israel is not allowing foreign journalists into Gaza, except on rare occasions with military escorts. These people's names are being buried in a giant list that keeps growing. What I want to do is lift some of them off the list for a moment and give you a glimpse of who they were and the work they made.

I'll start with Sadi Mansour. Sadi was the director of Al-Quds News Network, and he posted a 22-second video on November 18. That was a report from the war, but it also gave me a picture into his marriage.

Sadi's wearing his press vest and looks exhausted. He's explaining that cell service and the Internet keep getting cut off, and it's often impossible to text or call anyone, including his wife. So they've resorted to using handwritten letters to communicate while he's out reporting, sending them back and forth with neighbors or colleagues.

He ends the video with a picture of one of these letters from his wife. In it, she writes,

‘Me and the kids stayed up waiting for you until the morning, and you didn't come home. We were really sad.

I kept telling the kids, Look, he's coming. But you didn't show up. May God forgive you.

Come home tomorrow and eat with us. Do you want me to make you kebab or maybe kapse? Bring your friends with you, it's okay.

And give Azeez the battery to charge. What do you think about me sending you handwritten letters with messenger pigeons from now on? Ha ha ha.

I'm just kidding. I want to curse at you, but we're living in a war. Too bad.

Okay, I love you. Bye.’

A few hours after he shared that letter, Sadie and his co-worker Hassouna Saleem were at Sadie's home, when they were killed by an Israeli air strike that hit his house.

His wife and kids, who weren't there, survived.

Gaza is tiny, and the journalist community is really close. Reading the list, you can see all the connections between people. Like with Brahim Lafi.

Brahim was a photojournalist, one of the first journalists to die. He was killed while reporting on October 7. He was just 21, still new to journalism.

On his Instagram, you can see that in his posts just a few years ago, he was still practicing his photography, taking pictures of coffee cups and flowers. Then he started doing beautiful portraits and action shots. You can really feel him starting to become a journalist.

Clicking around on Instagram, I found a tribute post about Brahim from his co-worker Rushdie Sarraj. In this photo, Brahim staring intently at the back of a camera, his face lit up by the light from the viewfinder. He looks so young.

The caption reads, My assistant is gone. Brahim is gone. Rushdie himself was a beloved journalist and filmmaker.

And I know that because he's also on the list. He was killed just two weeks after Brahim. I read the tribute post to him too.

I saw this over and over again. Journalists posting tributes, who were then killed themselves soon after. And a tribute goes up for them.

And then the pattern continues.

Thank you.

Something else I saw over and over on the list, journalists later in the war who had become aware that they could be making their last reports. They'd say it at the beginning of their videos. And those were the hardest to watch, especially when it was true.

One video like that was posted by Ayat Hadduro. Ayat was a freelance journalist and video blogger. Her videos before the war covered a wide range from what I can tell, interviews about women in politics.

She even appeared in a commercial for ketchup-flavored chips. She clearly liked being in front of the camera. Once the war started, Ayat's pivoted to covering bombings and food shortages.

On November 20, she posted a video report from her home. You can hear the airstrikes hitting very close to where she is. It's scary.

‘This is likely my last video. Today, the occupation forces dropped phosphorus bombs on Beit Lahya area and frightening sound bombs. They dropped letters from the sky, ordering everyone to evacuate.

Everyone ran into the streets in the craziest way. No one knows where to go.

But everyone else has evacuated. They don't know where they're going. The situation is so scary.

What's happening is so tough, and may God have mercy on us.’

She was killed later that day.

Targeting journalists, in case you didn't know, is a war crime. So far, the Committee to Protect Journalists has found that three of the journalists on the list were explicitly targeted by the IDF, the Israeli military. Investigations by the Washington Post and Reuters, Human Rights Watch and the United Nations have also raised serious questions in these three cases.

And the Committee to Protect Journalists is investigating 10 other killings. When we reached out to the IDF for comments, they said, quote, the IDF has never, and will never, deliberately target journalists. That's the answer they always give in these situations.

Meanwhile, dozens of seasoned reporters have fled Gaza. Journalists who worked for Al Jazeera, the BBC, the New York Times, the Washington Post, Reuters, Agence France-Presse. So many media offices were demolished in Israeli airstrikes that the Committee to Protect Journalists stopped counting.

It's not just individual lives that have been destroyed. It's an entire infrastructure.

Thank you.

The name on the list that was hardest for me to look at was Issam Abdullah, because I'd crossed paths with him once. Issam was a Lebanese journalist, a video journalist for Reuters for many, many years. He had just won an award for coverage of Ukraine.

I'm Lebanese and still report there sometimes, and I'd worked with Issam a couple of summers ago. He helped me film a sort of random story in Beirut. I was interviewing this entrepreneur who had started a sperm freezing company after an accident where he spilled a tray of hot coffee on his private area, burning himself.

I know, ridiculous. It was a really silly shoot. Right after we said cut and started to rap, Issam started this whole bit about being in his late 30s, reconsidering his own sperm quality and everything he now realized he was doing to hurt it, and no one could stop laughing.

It was a really good day that felt good to remember and to remember him that way. Issam was killed by the IDF on October 13. His death was one of the three that the Committee to Protect Journalists has identified as a targeted killing.

He was fired upon by an Israeli tank while standing in an empty field on the Lebanon-Israel border with a small group of other journalists. Everyone was wearing press vests with cameras out. They were covering the Hezbollah part of this war.

A few other journalists were injured in the attack, which was captured on video. The IDF says they were responding to firing from Hezbollah, not targeting the journalists. But multiple investigations, including by Reuters, the United Nations, Amnesty International and the AFP, found no evidence of any firing from the location of the journalists before the IDF shot at them.

The journalists in the group and video footage confirmed that there was no military activity near them. I had only met Issam once, barely knew him, but it affected me so much when he died. I know that he understood the risks of his job, but somehow it still felt so random and unfair that he would be struck down like that, following the rules, wearing his press vest and helmet, and a pack of reporters on a sunny day in an open field.

I find myself thinking about him all the time. His last Instagram post was commemorating another journalist, this iconic reporter Shereen Abou Aql who had been killed by the IDF. When I first saw that post in October, I thought how ironic because a week later, Isam also was killed by the IDF.

But then, after spending time reading the list, I realized how common this had become. I still haven't finished going through the list and looking up the people on it. I keep finding things that stick with me, like the funny way this one radio host would cut off a caller who was rambling on for too long.

A tweet from reporter Al-Abdallah that quoted Sylvia Plath. It read, What ceremony of wars can patch the havoc? I'm going to keep going down the list, even though this story is over now.

Just for myself. My own way of bearing witness. Which is, in the end, all that these journalists were trying to do.”

—DANA BALLOUT, The 95. Dana sifts through a very long list—the list of journalists killed in the Israel-Hamas war, and comes back with five small fragments of the lives of the people on it. Dana is a Lebanese-American, Emmy-nominated documentary producer.

[bloomzone]

GLOW UP DIARY : #1.MINDSET IS EVERYTHING

Life is beautiful galaxy be a writer, genre is fantasy what opens up to me tomorrow is a big, big stage so that is who I am

- ive (song : i am )

Hey heeey sparkles...today is the first part of glow up diary "mindset"..so grab ur notebook and let's guaaaar !

by: 𖧷´ bloomzone 𝅄 ׂׅ

#1 MINDSET

First of all bbg ur mindset is more than just a mindset it's a guiding force that influences how you perceive the world, respond to challenges, and ultimately create the life you envision.

THE IDGAF MINDSET IS THE KEY !

﹙ ✿ ﹚they don't like you..they don't like ur style,hair,music taste, interests ? I DON'T CARE YOU ARE YOU I'M ME ! the idgaf mindset is the solution.. everytime someone say something bad about u think and answer like ok and ? Who the fvck care ?. Stop caring about what ppl think about you IT'S YOU VS YOU stop caring about what other say about u . For example if one of ur friends come up to you and say "____ talk sh* about u" don't ask about what that person said abt u it doesn't matter cuz ur life revolve around u and only u. Life become easier once you stop reacting to negativity and that the GOAL cut off friends who bring don't bring u happiness and only bad mood but surround yourself with friends who bring u positivity and motivate you.

TIPS AND HOW TO START BUILDING YOUR OWN MINDSET:

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧ start with listening to podcasts (click here) watch thewizardliz (click here) it will help u so much.💞

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧ break up with friends who hurted you before if they are from ur family distance urself ;)

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧ stop and STOP creating bad scenario on your mind cuz it will effect on ur mood , be positive 🎀

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧ make yourself a propriety act like the person u want to become and always be grateful of what u have rn don't say "why ___ is more popular than me" "why I'm not this pretty?" Cuz this will effect u and u will start overthinking..so be grateful of what u have cuz god have always a better plan for u honey !💌

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧ stay private don't tell ppl ur goal and ur future plan !

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧ don't listen to ppl who will bring u down they choose to hate u let them sit with that feeling it's not ur fault to focus on your self girlie 🎀

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧ start to don't give a sht about what ppl say behind your back stop oversharing ur personal life (this is the big fault ..u should avoid this and trust me pretty that oversharing=problems)

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧just be yourself but with a better mindset cuz u are the only one who know your worth never let anyone costume u or disrespect you "you changed" always say yes for my worth for my future self what do you think u are ? .. if they don't call u, don't respond to ur text put ur phone away go have a good day set boundaries make ppl respect you like if u walk in a room ppl will say "she an unbothered queen fr".You live for yourself sweetie everyone else is second. 💌

ıllı ⠀ : 🎀 i believe in you and you should believe in yourself to make it happen..take care xoxo .

by: 𖧷´ bloomzone 𝅄 ׂׅ ׂׅ ⠀ ♡ ⠀ !!

[slut4msby]

first kiss. miya osamu x reader

+ tags & warnings; not proofread & v rushed </3 also like quiet a lot of swearing (mainly just the use of the word 'shit')

+ a/n; day 6/7!! one more day to go before i go take a LONGGGG nap (i wish :<) but yeah this isn't the best written but here u go bc im on my osamu shit atm <3

“So you’re seriously telling me, THE Miya Osamu has never kissed anyone?” You teased the now embarrassed dark harder boy. “Like THE Miya Osamu, like brother to like the schools biggest flirt Miya Atsumu? What’s next your brother hasn’t either? I always knew the Miya twins were FULL of surprises but this, THIS is new.”

“Ew, I don’t wanna know who my brother is kissing and shit.” He said defensively.

“Why?” You questioned.

“Whaddya mean why? Because it’s weird he is like my brother I don’t wanna know what girls he’s snogging and sh-”

“No, I mean like why haven’t ya kissed anyone ‘Samu?” You cut his ramble off, “like I’m sure there's plenty of girls willing to, you have just as many fangirls as Atsumu, just his are louder and more annoying. And apart from that there’s no denying you're an attractive man. I mean you take care of yourself as well.”

“I-I don’t know, Y/N. What I do know is I don’t wanna kiss some fangirl or some shit, I want it to be with someone I care about I guess.”

“Awww 'Samu, that's so cute.” You gushed at his response.

“Shut it, Y/N.” 

As the conversation comes to halt the school bell rings, ending your first break of the day. “I’ll see ya later, ‘Samu. You smile walking down the hall to your class. You sit in your seat next to Osamu’s twin brother, Atsumu.

“Hey, Y/N-chan~” He says as you sit down.

“Hey ‘Tsumu? Ya know ‘Samu has never kissed anyone, like isn’t that just kinda bizarre. Like he’s funny, a good cook, handsome, good at sport ya know what more could a girl want? Like I know he’s seen women and shit but I dunno it’s just weird, I kinda feel bad.” You say towards Atsumu.

“If ya care so much Y/N, why don’t you just kiss him or something? I’m sure that’d shut him up. Ya both never shut up about each other, it’s kinda annoying.” 

“He talks about me?!” You say with a pink stain spreading across your face.

“Did ya hear what Y/N-chan said earlier, did you see Y/N-chan today, I think I’m gonna bring Y/N-chan some food tomorrow, Y/N-chan this, Y/N- chan that and every time I tell him to shut his trap.” Atsumu sighed, placing his head in his hands, “and yer not any better Y/N.”

“I don’t talk about him that much.” You say crossing your arms, frowning at Atsumu. Atsumu just rolled his eyes in response. Not long after your teacher began teaching her lesson, you couldn’t stop thinking about the twins' words. “If ya care so much Y/N, why don’t you just kiss him”  “to be with someone I care about I guess” “Ya both never shut up about each other”. There was certainly no denying your attraction to the silver haired twin. But in your years of knowing him, neither of you showed any romantic interest in each other. You had both seen a range of people, every breakup the same. Ending with one comforting the other, “they were such a dick anyway” or “I never really liked them to begin with.”

As the school day concluded, you decided to watch the volleyball teams practice. A common occurrence at this point.

“Oh hey, Y/N.” Suna said as he entered the gym, Osamu behind him. Osamu looked up to give you a smile, which you returned. No hey or hug like you were used to. There was something different about Osamu this time.

As you watched the boys practice, you would have some casual conversation with the team. Giggling and smiling, but never Osamu. It was always Osamu, but not since your conversation earlier.

Eventually Osamu was alone for the first time the whole practice, so you decided to confront him on his weird behaviour. “‘Samu?” You ask softly, his head poking up to look at you, “you’re acting weird, is everything okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine, Y/N. Just a little stressed, school and all that,” He mumbled softly before returning back to practise leaving you dumbfounded. 

“You know that’s not the reason right, Y/N?” Suna said from behind you. Causing you to look behind you, giving him a look of curiosity. “Apparently Atsumu sent him a message earlier, I dunno what it was exactly about but it was something about you that’s for sure.” After Suna finished speaking he grabbed his water bottle and walked away.

You couldn’t focus on the last part of their practices, instead you were left wondering from Suna’s words. As practice concluded, you could hear the Miya’s bickering as you began leaving before Osamu called out to you, “Y/N-chan!” You stop in your tracks turning to face the twin jogging towards you, “can we talk for a second, please?”

“Oh sure.”

You and Osamu walked in silence, an awkward silence in drastic contrast to the usual comfortable silence before reaching a private area.

“I uhm- about earlier I’m sorry for like acting weird…” he said fiddling with his fingers, “it’s just ‘Tsumu sent me a stupid text and It’s just like bothering me and-”

“Osamu.” You cut him off, looking at him in the face, “can I kiss you? I know you said you wanted it to be someone you care about-”

Your words were cut off as Osamu placed his hand on your chin, pulling you closer before your lips collided. The world seemed to fade away as your lips met, a fusion of unspoken emotions and shared history. As you both pulled away, heat rising on both of your faces. Before Osamu let out a chuckle, “did ‘Tsumu get you too?”

“Mhm. Glad he did though.” You say wrapping your arms around, Osamu. 

“Fucking finally. You owe me some puddin’.” Atsumu said towards Suna, who just rolled his eyes in response.

©slut4msby.

[bitchy-craft]

A Love Letter From Your Future Spouse | Pick A Pile

Hello and welcome to this Pick A Pile! In here you'll find out about a love letter that your future spouse wrote. I hope you guys enjoy and find this useful. Do make sure to leave comments down below on your experience! I do want to remind you all that this is a General Pick A Pile which means this is for a lot of people; therefore keep what resonates and leave what doesn't.

Masterlist

Pick A Pile!

Pile 1:

My Dearest [Name],

As I sit here, pen in hand, trying to capture the depth of my feelings for you, words seem to fall short. Yet, I cannot let another day pass without expressing the immense love I hold in my heart for you. You are the person who has touched my soul in ways I never thought possible.

From the moment our eyes first met, a spark ignited within me, and it has only grown stronger with time. Your smile, your laughter, the way your eyes light up when you talk about your passions—every aspect of you fascinates and captivates me. Your presence alone brings warmth and joy to my life.

In your arms, I find solace and comfort, knowing that I am loved unconditionally. Your love has transformed me, opening my heart to a world of possibilities. You have shown me the true meaning of happiness and taught me to embrace every moment, cherishing the beauty of our shared journey.

When we are apart, I yearn for your touch, your voice, and the way you make me feel alive. Every second spent away from you feels like an eternity, and I find myself counting down the minutes until we can be together again. You are the missing piece that completes me, and I am forever grateful to have you by my side.

My love, I promise to cherish and protect what we have built together. I vow to support your dreams, to be your rock when life gets tough, and to celebrate your victories with unwavering enthusiasm. Together, we can conquer any obstacle and create a love story that will stand the test of time.

With all the love in my heart and soul,

[Future Spouse]

Pile 2:

To My Beloved [Name],

As the sun sets and the stars fill the sky, my thoughts are consumed by one person— you. Words alone cannot express the depth of emotions that surge within me whenever I think of you. You have become the center of my universe, the reason behind my smiles, and the beating of my heart.

From the very beginning, you captured my attention with your grace, intelligence, and compassion. Your mere presence illuminates the darkest corners of my soul, bringing forth a love that grows stronger with every passing day. Your gentle touch and the sound of your laughter are etched in my memory, comforting me even in your absence.

In your arms, I have found a sanctuary—a place where I feel safe, accepted, and cherished for who I truly am. Your love has shown me the beauty of vulnerability, the power of trust, and the profound joy of a genuine connection. With you, I can be my authentic self, unafraid and unreserved.

My beloved, every moment we share is a treasure to be cherished. From stolen glances to whispered secrets, our bond deepens, weaving our lives together in a tapestry of love. You have become an irreplaceable part of me, and I cannot imagine a future without your love by my side.

Today, tomorrow, and for all the days to come, I promise to stand by your side through thick and thin. I will hold your dreams as dearly as my own and support you in every endeavor. Together, we will conquer the world, hand in hand, and build a love that withstands the tests of time.

With all my love and devotion,

[Future Spouse]

Pile 3:

My Dearest [Name],

I find myself constantly amazed by the depth of emotions you awaken within me. From the moment our paths intertwined, my life took on a new meaning, and my heart found its true home in you. The love we share is a gift I treasure above all else, and I cannot imagine a life without your presence.

In your embrace, I find a sense of belonging that surpasses any words or gestures. Your touch sends shivers down my spine, igniting a fire that burns passionately within me. With you, I feel a connection that reaches beyond the physical realm—a connection of souls that is rare and beautiful.

You have seen me at my best and my worst, yet your love remains unwavering. You have embraced my flaws and imperfections, loving every part of me unconditionally. Your acceptance has allowed me to grow and blossom into a better version of myself, and for that, I am eternally grateful.

Every day spent with you is a new adventure, filled with laughter, shared dreams, and a love that knows no boundaries. We have weathered storms together, emerging stronger and more resilient each time. Our love is built on a foundation of trust, respect, and a deep understanding of one another.

My love, I promise to nurture our relationship with care and devotion. I will be there to lift you up in times of doubt, to provide solace when you need it, and to celebrate the triumphs we achieve as a team. Together, we can conquer any obstacle and create a future filled with love, happiness, and endless possibilities.

As the seasons change and years pass, my love for you only grows deeper. I am grateful for the memories we have created and excited for the moments that lie ahead. You are my forever, my soulmate, and with you, I have found a love that surpasses all expectations.

With all the love in my heart,

[Future Spouse]

[thetopichot]

•° The Middle Ground °•

☆ Chapter III ☆

FUCKING FINALLY JESUS CHRIST I'VE DONE IT FUCK

Word Count: 1.5k words

Brand new day, brand new problems, many people say. As much as you would love life to be consistent instead of being hit with random sh*t every week, Today, however, was the day off for you. Sunday was very much known as the day of eternal rest. The 'Prepare for the unknown tomorrow'. Finn left as usual for his job at Talk Floral, & luckily for him as well, he was supposed to come home early.

So in the meantime, you laid in bed, sleeping in, because what's better than sleeping? You hear faintly the sound of the door being open and then being quickly shut soon after. 'Oh, sweet, he's home' as you expected him to be, & you remained still peaceful as you waited for him to enter his room with you, which was also quicker than you thought.

You heard the bedroom door open, & you heard Finn's frantic moving as you heard his phone playing. What can you make out as a voicemail? You sat up in bed as your ears slowly tried to make out the voice & the message that caused Finn to be so distressed. You squinted your eyes across the room to see Finn holding his phone in hand & his other hand looking around for clothes.

You could hear the sound of the clothes hangers being pushed back & forth so clearly, which helped you hear the final parts of the voicemail.

"He'll be at your florist shop before 11. So please prepare then."

Who? Oh, wait, I think you know who. About four days ago, Auron left you both a slick black card with a phone number on it. You both thought it would lead directly to him, but it was a company card or his company card, you assumed. If he can just fire someone before the holidays for simply doing something "incompetent," then he's probably one of those rich ass CEOs who has their head so far up their ass cracks.

You would be surprised if he wasn't, and he was just some brown-noser sucking up to his boss, but yeah, he wouldn't be that. Either way, you still wouldn't like him. At the same time, it makes you wonder: What does Finn even see in him that makes him a 'good guy'? All he does is berate him, or, technically speaking, all that you have seen. 

It makes you wonder about something. Maybe it's something a bit more than Auron being a well-paying customer. The last time they spoke, Auron was pretty polite to Finn compared to you, as if he had known him for quite some time, besides paying him well. You didn't think too much about it; besides, they know each other and he's just a reoccurring customer.

However, the way that Finn acted when he asked the lady about having an outing with him? He was so nervous, almost like-

"Darling!" You snapped your head towards Finn, bringing yourself back to reality. "Are you alright, love?" Despite Finn being in a hurry, he still looked at you with gentleness & worry in his eyes. 

"Oh, nothing, just thinking about things. Anyway, where are you heading to? I heard something over the phone about meeting someone."

"I'm not heading over just yet. I have to take a shower." You quirked an eyebrow.

"Babe. Didn't you already take a shower like 3 hours ago? Plus, you're not even that dirty from work either."

"You can never be too clean, you know!" Finn laughed nervously as he left to go wash himself off again. The interaction was a little strange between you two, but you didn't want to think much about it. He looks stressed already, and you didn't really want to pressure him into answering your questions.

He really thinks very highly of Auron if he gets him acting like that. However, there isn't much to be done besides sitting back, waiting until he comes from the social outing between them, & hoping for the best. As soon as you thought it would be, the sound of jingling keys in Finn's hand fills the room. He bends over the bed to kiss you, then leaves the house for you to be alone in the house again.

'I'll guess I'll ask when he gets home.'

Finn bounces his leg nervously as he sits on a bench nearby his shop. Thoughts rush back and forth within his head as if it were a race to see which one could be an actual possibility of happening. 'Do I look good? Why am I sweating so much? He's a friend! I've known him for awhile. Wait, why is my leg bouncing?'

Finn's thoughts paused as a black limo pulled up towards his shop. Onlookers from amongst the town square gaze upon the limo in awe as they assume a celebrity has come into town. Finn sees people slowly gathering themselves—not too close to the limo but enough to see from afar—& becomes more nervous. This barely ever happens when Auron comes by, but I guess you learn something a little new from Auron.

Finn catches a brief glimpse of a familiar redhead behind a tinted black window. The driver quickly runs to the other side to avoid the crowd forming behind him. The driver quickly opens the door for Finn.

"After you, sir." The driver spoke. Finn was quite surprised by the very fancy get-up, despite it just being a very casual outing & quite a modest town no less. Although, who could deny such a fancy gesture? Finn walks carefully yet quickly towards the limo, & a hand is extended towards him.

"Come here." Auron spoke to him as Finn held his hand & joined him in the limo. Finn sat on the comfy plush seat next to Auron. "There's no need to be nervous now."

"Thank you for helping me." Finn smiles. He takes a quick look around a limo. "However, you didn't really have to show up in a limo. Actually, I could've picked you up from your job & taken you there."

"I didn't really want to put you through any trouble. So consider this a gift."

"Well, either way, I'm happy you were able to join me on this little outing. I wasn't really expecting you to be here since you're a very busy man."

"My schedule was more open than I thought it would be, so I decided to maybe indulge myself in some peace." Auron silently commanded with his hands, signaling for him to drive.

"Well, I hope this can be somewhat peaceful! Tea is especially known for its soothing properties. I even make some myself as well!" Finn mentions. "When I was little, Hattie would tell me little by little every time I went over there some of her favorite tea recipes. Sometimes her baking recipes too, & I think... I still have some of her recipes still written down."

"She must mean a lot to you."

"She does," Finn says enthusiastically. "She's basically like a grandma to me. My actual grandma was busy since she lives way across town; I barely got to spend time with her. So, Hattie, well, I wouldn't say she was a replacement for my grandma. She was just more active. I wouldn't be the person that I am without her." Finn paused for a moment. "I had been considering selling some other goods besides flowers."

Auron's interest peaked. "Oh, & what would that be?"

"Maybe something like baked goods and teas! My partner always compliments me whenever I make them, & they suggested the idea awhile ago. I wasn't really too sure to pursue the idea since my shop is very dirty. Well, of course it's a florist shop; there's nothing you can do about having a dirty shop when you have a florist shop." Finn caught himself before he could go off topic. "Anyway, what I'm saying is that I want to maybe sell my goods. I'm not too sure when, but maybe sometime during the winter! My florist shop isn't really active in the winter, plus I can choose my own hours because I'm the owner!"

"The problem is if I'm able to do the baked goods, the teas, &... what-not, but the thing is, where? It was hard enough to even allow me to sell flowers." Finn thought.

"May I," Auron asked, "make an offer?" Finn tilted his head.

"Sure, what's your offer?"

"One of my, uh, good employees is holding a Christmas party for the office after work, & I overheard that he was looking for some assistance on 'getting some treats' for the occasion." He explained.

Finn stared at Auron with uncertainty. Auron cleared his throat. "I'm asking if you would like to sell at the party."

"Sorry, I didn't want to assume if it was what I thought it was." Finn chuckled.

"That's quite alright. It's better to be straightforward than to lead people astray." The car finally stops at Hattie's quaint tea shop. The driver quickly opens the car door on Auron's side.

"After you, gentlemen." Auron tilted his head, suggesting leaving the limousine. Finn nodded as Auron walked out from his side, and as before, he offered his hand towards Finn. Finn accepted his hand as he was carefully pulled out of the limo by Auron. The driver closed the door behind them and hopped in the car again.

"You are dismissed." Auron said to the driver, and the limo drove off. "Now, should we discuss more of the details inside?"

☆ミ Author's Notes Underneath 👇 ☆ミ

🩷 - Fucking FINALLY JESUS. Ya'll I'm sorry that this took so long to make. It's just things going on & writer's block slapping my ass n' shit. However, since my motivation is back, Chapter 4 should hopefully come along more quickly than this one which may include Auron & Darling fucking beefing again & maybe.. a surprise listener shows up?? 😗😗 Either way, I hope you guys enjoy this as always & have a lovely day.

[signed-loni]

Could I request Sal with a s/o who's recently relapsed with sh? Preferably in a case where s/o doesn't want to bother Sal because they dont think it's too big of a deal, but he notices/finds out anyway (maybe by them being careless or something).

Thank you if you decide to do this, and have a nice day either way <3

Ofc anon. And if ur going thru anything, feel free to message me <3

Warnings: Mention of self harm, cussing, angst(?)-comfort

You knew you shouldnt have. You knew how long you were clean, but today was a bad day. You didnt know what else to do, so you relapsed.

You let out a shaky sigh and began to roll your sleeves back down. You slowly got up from your place on the floor and quickly hid the knife you just used to break your own skin. You got up and walked out of your room, deciding to get some wayer just to calm you down a bit more. Walking out of your apartment, you walked over to the elevator and pressed 4, you were going to sals.

The elevator stopped with a loud ding! and you walked over to sals place. Hesitating just a bit, you knocked on the door. Sals dad got the door for you, opening it wider once he saw it was you at the door.

“Hello y/n. Good to see you.”

“Hi Mr.Fisher, good to see you to.”

You walked into the apartment while henry told you sal was in his room. You uttered a small “thank you”and walked over to his room.

Knocking on the door, you heard a bit of rustling, probably sal putting on his prosthetic, then a muffled “come in!”

You let yourself in while sal looked up at you from his bed. “Hey babe, whats up?” you plopped yourself next to him and said “nothing, just wanted to see you.” Sal got a small feeling that something was up, but decided to ignore it.

Stretching your arms up, your sleeves fell down just enough for sal to notice the fresh cuts on your arms. His heart sank.

You put your arms down sighing, you needed that stretch. Looking over to your blue haired boyfriend, sal was looking at you with a bunch of mixed emotions in his eyes

Sadness, disappointment, and ever so soight anger in his mood. He grabbed your hand, and took it in his, he looked at you with a sad expression, and you wete beyond confused. “Why was he acting like this? What happened? Is he ok?”

Sal slowly started to utter his sentence, shakiness apparent in his voice. “Y/n.” He thougjt before he spoke. Then,carefully, he asked “have you..been slitting your wrists again?”

The room went quiet. Oh.shit. You stumbled over your words before saying “what? No of course not! W-why?” You said, stuttering like there was no tomorrow. “I can see the cuts.” Fuck. “Uhm..” he tightened his grip on your hand. “Y/n, why? What happened? Did-Did someone do something? Did..i do something?”

You thought before replying. “I had a bad day.”

Sal, not wanting to pry, pulled you into a hug, squeezing so tight you could barely breathe.

“My love, please, stop doing this to yourself. You don’t deserve it. Nobody does. You are perfect, and no matter what anyone says, don’t listen to them. They aren’t worth it”

Picking you up, he took you to his bathroom to get you cleaned up. Carefully turning on the faucet and running you arms under it. You winced and sal looked up at you before continuing. He dried your arms and put Neosporin on the cuts. He put disney princess band aids on all the cuts. Kissing each one after he covered them. Once again picking you up and bringing you back to his bed, cuddling you and whispering sweet nothing into your ear before you both fell asleep.

[qqtxt]

[🐯] 1:11am wish (came true)

✿ pairing: beomgyu x you / female reader / angst if you squint, but mostly fluff, sexual innuendos but nothing explicit / 3,793 words / reader calls him ‘gyu’ / minor cursing / mentions of food and eating ✿ in which beomgyu returns back from tour, and the first place he stops by is your apartment, surprising you in the middle of the night. ✿ a/n: i couldn’t help myself! i think i like this pairing :”) my heART– [masterlist 🌸] / @kflixnet​ ✨

note: written in mind to be a continuation of ‘1:11am wish (you’ll stay)’ but can also be read as a standalone ;w;

seven more days, beomgyu promises. seven more torturous days and it’ll be over, he’ll be in your arms, you’ll be in his arms and he’ll never leave you (until the next announcement is released, so you’ll live in your fantasy as much as you want).

this time around, it’s... not to say it’s easier, but it feels like the tough days were easier to manage. there are still some bad days, as there are good ones. both of you were rather independent people; having alone time was something you two benefited from the time away but there... there are times where there’s crying over the phone, shakily recorded voice notes, unable to show each other’s face on video because of how badly the loneliness and longing affected the other’s face.

but there’s the good things, too. giddily smiling over each other’s photos being sent, promises like i’ll bring you here next time, just the two of us. it’s so pretty here. all i can think about is how perfect it would be if you were here with me. jokes like what if you come back and i have a dog? and beomgyu’s already barking with rejection of hell no. not yet. i can’t be fighting for your attention against a dog. i’ll lose.

then, there’s now. the present.

like... literally. beomgyu’s just landed and he has only one place on the top of his list: wherever you are.

the second they find their footing at the airport, he starts to move quickly with his manager as he detours away from the boys, promising to meet in a few days. they already see how happy he is despite wearing a mask and sunglasses, with his cap on. upon hopping into the van, luggage in the trunk, he pulls out his phone and sees the five messages that come from...

[y/n 💛] i’m gonna head to bed now, i feel tired today. goodnight and i love you, gyu 🧡🧡🧡 [1:10am]

[y/n 💛] oh sh [1:11am]

[y/n 💛] it’s 1:11!!! [1:11am]

[y/n 💛] i wish for you to come back now. right now. yes. just get on a damned plane and come back to me. [1:11am]

[y/n 💛] i’m kidding, i know you’ll be back in a few days but i just miss you, okay? anyway i’ll talk to you tomorrow 🥴 [1:11am]

with his tongue in cheek, he decides not to reply as he locks his phone and rests it on his lap. his manager is well-aware of where to drop him off, so no words are said on the way there. it does take a while, so he leans back in his seat and his foot is impatiently tapping on the floor. as he does so, he peeps at his phone and presses the lock screen button.

the time reveals to be 2:10am, but what catches his eyes is his lock screen image. if those saw it at a first glance, they won’t notice it. it’s at one of the places well-known for cherry blossoms and one might say it’s just an aesthetic photo of the scenery. but if you look closely, there’s your silhouette trying to reach for one of the flowers, only to huff when you can’t reach it and beomgyu remembers trying to help you reach it, only for the both of you to fall down into the pile of flowers and laugh when the pain subsides.

he remembers holding you, leaning in to kiss you and remembering just how magical it all felt. how it feels like when he’s with you. even in the simplest, most mundane and boring things felt fun with you. seriously, who the hell enjoys laundry? this guy, apparently, when the both of you make a dance beat with the sounds from the washing machine doing it’s last cycle and then trying to see who can hang the clothes the fastest. or how about that time–”yah, choi beomgyu, wake up.”

he snaps his eyes open with a flinch, now seeing his door is open with his manager–”oh... we’re here?”

“quickly go in before anyone sees you,” his manager chuckles, already placing his luggage on the sidewalk so that beomgyu can scurry on in. he doesn’t have too much trouble making his way up, and all the buffering in between is only making him feel more and more anxious to get to you; to see you, to hold you–oh god, to have you in his arms.

beomgyu stands by your apartment door and fumbles for the key in his wallet. he brings it with him everywhere and makes sure he has a spare in his bag just in case, but he always has one in his wallet. he fishes it out next to the slot of a polaroid image of the both of you; smiling, it was on his birthday and it was a private celebration at his parent’s house where his older brother took the photo for the pair of you–i can’t believe my brother found someone who matches his energy... can you please tame him, somehow? beomgyu scoffs a laugh when he glances at the picture, more so at the memory.

his eyes looking at the key reminds him what he’s here for and he’s so shaky he can’t even open the door properly. he manages with whatever glimmer of stability he has left and he trudges in. his eyes snap shut when he makes a bunch of noise on his way in but sighs when it all falls quiet. (well, it better be, it’s literally two in the morning)

he puts his bags down to the side quietly and removes his jacket, mask, sunglasses and cap. he gives himself a little shake and exhales deeply before he start to make his way to your bedroom. your door is left ajar, to which he places his hand on it to push it open enough for him to step through.

the light that shines from your hallway dimly illuminates the feature on your face as you slept facing the door this time. what a blessing. he resists the urge to take a photo, knowing very well he’ll mess that up, and quite frankly, he can’t think straight at the sight of seeing you.

you’re here, he’s here. this is all real. hours, days, weeks and months leading up to this moment and he’s having a heart attack on his own before passing on that virus to you. he carefully gets on his knees, kneeling before you as he has one hand on your waist, the other stroking the side of your head.

“y/n,” he calls out softly, careful not to startle you, but he’s trying so, so hard not to be impatient. “y/n, wake up.”

it takes a couple of seconds when you make sounds and shift a little, but soon your eyes peel open. he smiles at you softly, stretching out to a grin but then it starts to fade when you don’t react the way he thought you would. either squealing out of bed and jumping into his arms, tackling him on the floor. or combusting into a bundle of joy, scream, shout, anything.

it was the opposite.

you looked... sad. (and still so beautiful that it doesn’t feel fair)

“i can’t believe this is happening again...” you murmur quietly, one of your hands tucked to hug yourself, the other meekly reaching out to touch his face. he gapes at your touch and tries not to move as he watches you, seeing how sadness continues to fill your eyes the more you stare at him, thumb stroking his cheek. “it feels so real.”

he can’t stop himself, the words come out before he can filter it: “what does?”

it hits him. 

it finally hits him when you say: “my dream...”

you press your lips into a thin line, swallowing thickly as a stray tear rolls down your cheek and seeping into your pillow. beomgyu frowns, his features twisting to mirror the ache in his heart as he hears your torn voice. “this one’s gonna hurt in the morning, isn’t it?”

he tries to comfort you, but quite frankly, he doesn’t know what to do.

“w-what if this isn’t a dream?” his hand reaches to overlap yours on his face, and it makes you chuckle, but he doesn’t sense any happiness in your tone. it’s just... it’s miserable, depressing, lifeless.

“i’m going crazy,” you sigh, hand slipping from his grasp and onto the bed, eyelids closing as your voice trails off, “gyu’s going to have a long-ass voice note before he sleeps tomorrow...”

beomgyu watches as you succumb back to sleep, shaking his head at the sight because he’s conflicted. in some way, it makes him happy because that’s... that’s the sight of progress right there. it hasn’t been easy to completely be vulnerable to someone, but through the days and weeks apart, beomgyu’s seeing the change through each voice note that reveals your worries and late night messages of i miss you, today feels harder than the other days... i just want to hold you.

soon, baby. i’ll be back soon, and i’m all yours then but...

but what?

i’m still all yours now, though.

gross.

it’s you staying true to promising him you’ll do your best to let him know when the days are hard, when you need extra reassurance, when you miss him a bit too much; and it’s proof right here that you’re trying, even when it’s emotionally taxing.

but the other part of him–fuck–he just wants you to believe that he’s home.

he takes a moment to think and... he knows that maybe now’s not the right time to tell you if you won’t believe him. so what he does is he heads back out to rummage through his bag to change into more comfortable attire to sleep in; a simple black shirt and shorts before he makes his way back into your bedroom. you’re still soundly asleep and beomgyu tries not to wake you (he’s not really trying, he’ll be more than glad if you woke up...) as he joins you in bed.

you shift a little, turning around to face him and he’s able to rest easy, looking at you as you took in short breaths of air and you slept. it may not have been the way he wanted to surprise you, but he’ll be honest, he was dead tired too. perhaps tomorrow will work out better. for now, he’ll take all he can as long as he’s by your side and he’s able to rest easy knowing tomorrow when you’re by his side, he knows it’s not a dream.

//

morning. the sunlight kisses your eyes as you peel them open with a soft grunt. it’s a weekend, thank fuck for that because you’re about to pour out your emotions to a poorly recorded voice note as your heart sinks to your gut. your arm reaches out to your table, anticipating for where your phone is but you–what–what the hell–who the hell–your eyes snap open and panic alarms you as you sit up and unknowingly–”g-gyu... no, am i still asleep?” 

you give yourself a couple of pats to the face, rubbing your eyes, but each time you blink to your side, it’s... it’s not going away.

beomgyu’s here. he’s laying next to you in bed, frown on his face as he wakes up with a grumble–five more minutes... he whines, curling towards your body, arms snaking around your waist to lure you back to bed as he buries his face against the side of your thigh.

you gulp and feel your hands shaking, your body slowly spiralling into madness at the thought of him being here; unannounced, yet, fitting so perfectly whenever he’s around. you feel the emotions coming all at once, especially after that little hiccup last night at the thought of dreaming of him and now he’s actually here. it’s all hard to process that you’re not making any coherent noises because soon, your feelings get bigger and bigger, the tears start to sting your eyes and–beomgyu peeks his eyes open, about to reign his excitement all over you, only to sit up hurriedly despite sleep still heavy in his system.

he shakes his head, eyes widening in fear, “h-hey, hey hey,” he murmurs softly, hands settling on your shoulders and pulling you close to him. he makes you situate your face in the spot between his neck and shoulder, one of your legs scooting over between his legs so he can hug you closer and his arms circle around you.

almost immediately he feels at home; this is where his home is, with you, beside you, having you in his arms. but the sounds of you crying makes his heart ache because he knows the pain all too well. he knows of the nights of wanting to hold him but he’s so far away. he understands the feeling of looking at your picture and going to sleep, hoping he’ll see you in his dreams because that’s where you’re the closest when you’re thousands of miles away. he tastes the tears he cries in the shower when the longing is too hurtful and he doesn’t want to tell anyone else but you–so he resorts to masking it from others.

so seeing you like this, hearing you like this, it’s a relief being able to cry in each other’s arms but it still pains him every time you cry.

he gives you all the time you need... after all, he’s the one who came uninvited –even though he knows he’s welcomed all the time–but it’s not everyday you wake up to having your significant other return from a long tour and the next morning when you wake up they’re in bed with you. your cries slowly fade as you let go of all your pent up emotions and your hands can finally start searching for him that he decides it’s a good time now to start talking.

“is my baby done crying so i can get a good look at that pretty face?” he coos into your ears, making you huff as you nudge him by the chest so he can lean back to look at you.

he already has this shit-eating-grin on his face, even though he looks like he’s shed a couple of tears but you’re clearly on the worse end here. as you rub your nose with the back of your hand, beomgyu reaches up with his free hand, the other holding you around the waist so he can cup your cheek, brushing the tears away with his thumb.

“augh, look at you, still so cute and gorgeous.”

you still can’t speak, the shock numbing you to the point that even looking at him in the eyes is about to make you cry again. he shifts his position so that he’s straddling you, sitting on your stretched out legs on the bed and he cups your face in his hands, making you look up to him. the light that illuminates his silhouette makes you wary, your hands resisting to hold him because what if, what if he’s not really here?

he senses your hesitance and pouts, lightly squishing your cheeks, “you’re hurting my feelings here. not even gonna hold me? after so long?”

he loosens his hold on you and leans closer, so that you can reach up to touch his face. after a couple of seconds, and him nuzzling against your palm, you reach up with your other hand and hold his face. it’s a long pausing moment, looking at him like this, holding him like this. your heart slowly allows the pain to subside, sinking in reality as this... this is real.

beomgyu’s here.

he’s home.

he yelps when you lunge forward, and he has to brace himself to catch you before the both of you topple over and off the bed. he starts to laugh happily, even when you’re crying in his neck–a different reason this time–and it all welcomes him home. the quiet sighs, the deep intakes of air you force into your lungs, the grabbing; the desperation to feel him, more of him, reaching wherever you can as he holds you up in his arms. he longs for it, his heart, feels full at the feeling of you appreciating his presence so much, he tries not to cry, not now, at least. he’ll know he’ll crack later, but he’ll resist now to be that pillar for you.

he shifts around so that he’s able to lay down on the bed with you still clinging onto him, laying on top as you take all the time you need to recuperate with the fact he’s actually here. he strokes the back of your head, down to your lower back, and all over again in a calming gesture. the heavy breathing ebbs away, and soon, the calmness takes over; happiness radiating when you move yourself from chest and sit up on his lap.

he sits up as well, and since you’re straddling him, it’s easy to come face-to-face with close to no room between your bodies. the change of position surprises you, but he watches as how adoration and infatuation fills your eyes at each waking moment that it’s not a dream to you. your hands hold his face again, and he’s able to smile up to you this time.

there’s so much you want to say, but you know you won’t be able to coherently form it now. with the way beomgyu’s looking up to you, blinking in a daze, you know he somehow can read your mind.

you feel smaller... your face, slimmer than in the photos, videos, fan cameras... you look tired, but happy. tired happy. you’re here, that’s the most important. you’re here, oh god, you’re actually here.

you say so much without saying anything at all, and it tugs on his heartstrings the longer he looks at you, as if he’s trying to memorise this very image. the light that outlines your silhouette almost scares him that this could’ve been a dream for him too. but as you kiss his forehead and lean your forehead against his, it’s a reminder that it isn’t.

“didn’t hurt in the morning, did it?” beomgyu says, raising a brow at you as his hands squeeze your waist.

he watches as confusion morphs your features, a small pout forming.

“how’d... how did you know that?” 

it seems like you recollect your dream, especially when you sound so skeptical that he’s able to reference something that... that was... wait. wait a fucking–

“i’m hurt, you know? you said you’d hug me, kiss me senseless, maybe even let me fill you up when i’m back but when i am, all you do is go back to sleep.” he feigns being hurt, but he can’t help himself to laugh when you don’t react in the way he thought you would. your eyes widen so much, it doesn’t look like you’ve been crying for the past thirty minutes.

“t-that was real?!” your jaw drops, body frozen, “you were already home?!”

he pouts, and nods.

“but you just went back to sleep. such a meanie.” 

beomgyu can only watch, living in the moment and he’s always, always going to remember this for the rest of his life. the surprise on your face, the shock coming in a second wave of disbelief... but all in the best ways possible. your mouth tries to formulate words, your mind seems to disconnect from your entire being–you have indeed, been bamboozled.

he gives you a moment, only to notice that he probably lost you. he’s made you lost your train of thought. the disconnect was very much visible. 

“you need more time to process things, baby?” he grins up to you, clearly enjoying every second of this, but when you still don’t know what to say.

he tests the waters by shifting a little, and when he sees that you’re responsive, he carefully tries to lay you down beneath him. as his elbows rest between your head as he holds himself up, him situating between your legs, you gape at him when there are telltales of what’s about to escalate. your hands reach up to hold onto his shoulders, then going through his hair.

innocently, at first, because it’s been so long, but the switch in beomgyu’s eyes as your fingers go through the strands, the way your eyes look up to him in admiration, then as you try to scan his features, he’s fixated on your eyes, nose, cheeks... lips. the second his eyes trail from your lips back to your eyes, you know it’s game over when he leans down to kiss you.

thank goodness it was a weekend... because it was going to be a very long weekend now that beomgyu was back.

((”how could you leave me like that?” beomgyu huffs, standing by the door of your kitchen as you put the pot to boil water. he watches as you turn around, clad in just one of his shirts over your body and a pair of shorts on, hair still a mess but god, this is the sight beomgyu wishes to see all the time. he stands there with his arms crossed over his bare chest, a pair of boxers lining his hips, small frown on his lips.

you chuckle and spread your arms out, already cooing at him to enter your embrace he very much willingly runs towards.

“i got hungry, you’re probably hungry, too.” your arm circles around his shoulders, the other ruffling his hair, “just wanted to make some ramen for us.”

he sighs into your shoulder, about to comment on how lucky he is but then his mind overtakes to something else when he–”i probably didn’t wear you out enough since you’re able to come here by yourself.”

he feels you stiffening in his hold and you try to resist when he pulls back. with not much resistance, he manages to lean back with a smug look on his face, especially when you don’t respond.

“i wonder...”

“w-what?”

“you don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow, right?”

“choi beomgyu, i’m warning you. we’re meeting the boys in a couple of days!”

he snickers, pulling you close to him by the waist when you try to lean away, “yeah, in a couple of days... you should be able to walk by then.”

“...”

“...no objections?”

“can we at least eat something first? i’m starving...”

when you blink up to him with a small pout, he relents with a sigh, “augh, fine. you’re lucky you’re cute.” he leans in, whispering into your ears, “but after this meal, though, i’m having second rounds of you.”))

[ladyfly]

Maintenance Day fluff

I really wanted to share this one. It’s based off of a dream I had. The song in this fic is 'I Want to Be Your Boyfriend' by Hot Freaks.

Maintenance day was always a nice day for you. No customers to deal with. Just you, your boys, and the hundreds of tiny Music men. You called them the Spiderlings. Today you found yourself giving the spiderlings a checkup. Sun was upstairs trying to beat Moon's score in one of the games. You could hear his frustrated growls as he failed. You were laying on your stomach. A tool kit with parts nest to you. Moon sat on you holding up his weight.

Currently he was brushing out your hair "What style do you want starling?"

You hummed "Something to keep my hair out of my face."

The spiderling you were looking at gave a happy dance at the new foot you gave it. DJ was happily playing playing whatever music he wanted. Some of it down right filthy, others saintly. He gave his best rendition of a chuckle as one of his spiderlings excitedly presented you with a large dead rat.

Once the higher ups figured out how many Tiny Music Men there actually were it was decided they would be repurposed into pest control. Often the little scrimblos would bring you the things they killed. Kind of like a cat going "Mommy! Look what I did for you!" It was almost like a game for them to bring you stuff. You had even been brought a live pigeon once.

Sun gave a cry of victory "Finally! Well Moonie. I doubt you can do better than that! I told you I was better at this game."

Moon shifted as he played with your hair adding some kind of sweet smelling product to it "We'll see about that. Just don't be a sore looser when I prove you wrong."

The heavy footfalls of someone entering the arcade made moon pause briefly. The sound of chatter echoing off the walls.

A gruff male voice firmly spoke "This is the west arcade."

The head of daytime security came into view. Beside him someone you didn't want to see. Your ex stood next to him taking the room in with a dull look on their face.

As their eyes landed on you they grinned "Well! Didn't think I'd see you again. What a pleasant surprise."

Your ex was someone who made your soul go 'Oh god not you!' with a little Sideshow Bob shudder added in. You had told Sun and Moon about them. Moon regarded them with disdain. The head of daytime security began to walk them around the arcade explaining things.

Moon abruptly stood up taking you with him "Break time Love."

Sun giggled from above "Yeah! Break time! If you work all the time you might burn out sunshine."

You watched as Sun jumped from the second floor of the arcade and land in a perfect handstand. The music playing shifted and got louder. 'I Want to Be Your Boyfriend' by Hot Freaks blared from the speakers around the arcade. Moon pulled you into a faux waltz twirling you to the first verse of the song. Now Sun and Moon are 9ft tall. Your feet could not reach the ground.

By the second verse Sun took you from him and began to dance as well. Verse by verse you were passed between the men. They left you a giggly mess. As the song came to an end Ex and the guard came back down. The guard gestured to each person in the room introducing you all.

When he got to you Ex grinned "I know them already. We were an item. I hope to be an item again. More long term though."

Moon maneuvered you into a piggy back ride "This was a thing but we have to go."

Sun nodded frantically "Yes yes! Much to do! We still need our checkup."

Your ex frowned "Should you really be letting them carry you like that? It's dangerous. It could drop you or crush you! You should stay with me. Much safer."

Sun stood up as tall as he could "We ARE safe. Very safe."

Moon nodded "We would never hurt them. Unless they asked."

You let out a gasp "Moonpie!"

Sun inched his way closer to Moon.

The guard let out a loud sigh "I don't have time for this weird ass shit. Your shift starts tomorrow Ex. Take today and get used to the building. I'm leaving."

Moon giggled followed by an indignant shriek. Sun pulled you from the back of Moon and bolted off with you in a princess carry.

Moon growled playfully "Sun! Give them back you rapscallion!"

He took off after you and sun. Ex watched annoyed as Moon took you from sun proclaiming victory. This continued all the way back to the daycare. Both men darting around the plex trying to keep you away from the other. Dodging staff, planters, and even Glamrocks on their way to the daycare. The three of you lost in raucous laughter.

[thefallofophanim]

For a long time, I stayed within the Field of Oblivion, the Land of the Forgotten, where the incessant whispers of ancestors and lost civilizations cradled my unmoving frame. On that day, I heard the tales of rain and mist, listened to the poems of mute lips, stories of Men, Angels, Gods and all the rest; I tasted the bitter, liberating flavor of sin and piety, which were now one and the same. Everything was light, everything was intense, and in that instant I caught a glimpse of the knowledge that had fascinated me all these years, the knowledge for which I had dedicated my lifetime. What I saw, no book in any Monastery Library could have taught me; no sacred text could have recounted the birth of stars and dust, and the death of every one of my fellow humans, in just a few seconds. No illuminated letter could have illustrated my arrival in the pavilion of New Souls and the drowsy solitude that awaited me and every Scribe before my turn came to hold ink and paper between my fingers. One day, I thought, one day, I'll find the words to describe these celestial visions; it's through language that the ineffable, freed from its spell, will become divine, and perhaps then Humanity will be able to wake up and thank the day of Tomorrow.

I saw the universe, fluid, ever-changing, I felt the cord of light pass through me and connect me to every piece of broken glass, every flower, and to Aliosha, who had regained His original form, but whose soul I knew intimately could not move away from my heart.

Then the clouds calmed and I felt cold, pure water beneath my feet. I lose my role as storyteller and revert to the quiet scribe, if these two roles can be differentiated in the first place. The fog can take on the appearance of whatever it wants; the fog of ancient times knows all the secrets of the Land of the Forgotten. The water is clear, limpid, and I catch myself contemplating my shimmering reflection, and it's then that I realize I'm no longer alone with the Guide of my dreams who answers to the name of my lost friend.

Silken memories have brought me more than light and more than knowledge. Mist and clouds swirl in the empty air, wandering and sublime, and at every glance, I catch a feather, a strand of hair, and the beauty of long-lost faces. Heavenly chants and crossed fingers have me gasping for air, as I finally understand what the Choir of Angels is named after. Although, the illusory formation of children preaching on the days of Mass was nothing but a shameful scribble, a tasteless imitation of the scene displayed before my eyes. All around me, winged travelers whistled in the wind. Has my time come? So soon? The idea is at once sweet, liberating and sad: I don't wish to die today. Tomorrow, perhaps, I'll want to, but I can't bring myself to leave the sphere of Silk and the living when I've just received Enlightenment. God, I think, please allow me one more day; then I will join your side if so is your desire.

But this ethereal procession doesn't seem so funereal, and a feeling of gratitude washes over me. Today is not the day of the End of the World. I never thought I'd see any angels other than Aliosha - Aliosha was a miracle I thought would be enough. One of them (or all of them, perhaps, I can't remember) spoke.

"Oh, You, Child of God, offer salvation to your fellow children of God, and know our names. Hear our prayers, hear our regrets, and know our names."

"What are your names?" I answer. "Who shall I hear the prayer of, who shall I hear the regrets of? Please do tell me, for I, Lysander, will fulfill your request."

"Our names were forgotten, we ourselves can't recall them any longer. We are all and none. Once you leave this Realm, Lysander, carry with you the envy of the Ophanim. Let us burden your chest, and our savior you will become.

Let our tongues and our songs guide your hand and the ink that feeds the ones of your kind. Let our stories change Humanity. And once the time has come, let us fall."

I listen. The ill shivers that shake my body come neither from the cold water on my skin, nor from the sighs in my ears. In my mind gleams a new brilliance.

[nitannichionne]

Ransom's Redemption (Chris Evans Fanfiction), Chapter 21: New York, New York (Ransom POV)

Oh, yeah. JFK, and I could feel the heartbeat of the city.

I do miss this place. My god, when I think of all the parties I had here, went to there, it's a wonder I wasn't in jail sooner.

I call Mimi as I head for the pick up area.

"Hello?"

"Hey, babe, I'm here."

"Sounds like the airport."

"Yeah," I look around. "I wish you were here."

"Me, too." I see a driver holding a sign: RANSOM DRYSDALE. "Hey, my driver is here--"

"Driver?"

"Looks like it," I say, trying to hold in my excitement.

"Call me when you get to the hotel. I wanna see the room."

I laugh. "You got it."

"Love you."

"Love you more."

I hear her do a little gasp.

"Talk to you later."

"Okay," she giggles softly. "later."

I click off and head to the driver. Aw, yeah. I love New York. I t just makes my heart beat faster. "I'm Ransom." I nod to the driver.

"I'm Curtis," he nods and does a tip of his hat. He takes my carryon, and I wave off him carrying my backpack. "Alright, follow me, sir."

"Thanks."

"Did you have a good flight?"

"Yes, wasn't long." It was actually ninety minutes. Somehow, flying in made me feel as if I traveled far, far from some of the bad stuff in Boston-like my parole officer who isn't that bad, and Mr. Green whom I was happy to finish that part of my community service for. It had been a long three months. Then there were the guys at Clockwork, who I loved having a beer with.

I was taken to a hotel in Manhattan, a nice one at that. It reeked with romance, and I realized that was what Paul meant by "one stop shopping." We were going to do some work around the hotel. Though I was happy to see that, I also didn't like it. My parole officer ordered that I be in a room instead of a rental, he didn't realize how much could happen at a hotel if you could keep quiet or grease a few palms for discretion. I did love having my own room. I almost thought I'd have a celly. 

But I wish Mimi was here. It's nice to work in a place like this, but even nicer to bring her along. Even the room made me wish she was there, and I realized that I missed my chance:

I groaned as the alarm went off this morning. 

"Hey, you." Mimi said softly.

"Hey, you," I echoed. 

She scooted over to me and put her head on my chest. "It's much better today."

"Yeah, I noticed." I smile down at her.  "Nice to see you."

"Yeah," she said, snuggling closer. "Between Jojo and Dr. Renquist, I'm not as queasy anymore."

"That and knowing now that the smell of fish is a trigger."

"Yeah," she says sadly.

"Don't worry, you'll be back to eating salmon in no time, Mimi."

"I never thought a favorite would be off the list."

"And now all you want is burgers from that place down the street."

"Like some people I know," she teases. "I think it's the ketchup mayo thing I really like."

"Me too." The alarm sounds again, and I sigh, "Gotta get going."

"Awww--"

"Raincheck, babe," I tell her. "We can watch anime another day, okay?"

"Oh...okay."

I am an idiot! I realize what she was wearing:

She usually wears one of my t-shirts and pajama pants! 

Come to think of it, she's been wearing alot of really nice stuff lately...tempting me in the mornings...

I get to the hotel room and before I even begin to unpack, there is a knock at my door. I look through the peephole and laugh at Paul on the other side of the door. I open it, asking, "Damn, Paul, were we on the same plane?"

"I got here early to set things up for tomorrow," he laughs. "I mean, a long weekend sounds fun, right?"

"I plan on going home first chance I get," I tell him. "It's almost Christmas, man."

"We're a ninety minute flight away."

I look at him. I plan on being home on the 23rd. What is this guy talking about? The answer I come up with makes me feel bad for him. "Who are you spending Christmas with?"

"I dunno, changes year to year," he sighs. "I was thinking about going to see my sister."

"You two are like cat and dog!" I laugh.

"But we're all each other's got," he shrugs with a grimace. "Mom died, and Dad followed within months."

"I'm sorry, when--"

"Two years ago."

"Aw, I'm sorry, man." The idea of a pal spending Christmas alone sucked. I would get all kinds of presents from Mimi every month-tea and book. Art magazines came every month. Even then, the guards felt she loved me. I would get comic postcards or some that were of places from around the world that I actually left behind when I got out. Some kingpin of the block got jealous, thinking I had friends everywhere (which I did), but when I pointed out that they were all postmarked in Massachusetts, he let up.  I spent time binding them into joke books, some given in deals I had to make. My first Christmas in prison was the best. She sent me brushes, paints and paper (directly from the manufacturer) and I shared my art markers with other 'resident artists.' In fact, I left it all behind, and promised to send supplies to the library. I literally spend $200 a month to try to keep supplies up in there.

"You ready to go?"

I laugh at him. "I just got in, barely had a thought. I haven't shown Mimi--"

Then I'm just in time!" Paul cheers. "The lounge here is great, let's go down for a bit."

"Dinner and drinks," I say slowly. "I remember many wild nights that started that way."

"Aw, I can't help it if the Big Apple is always ready for another bite." He gives me a playlful slap on the shoulder. "We're on a pass--"

"Oh, we're military now?"

"Might as well be, with " the man" watching. C'mon, we should get going."

"The cuffs are lose, but--" I raise my ring hand. "This one isn't."

Paul raises an eyebrow at me. "Whatever."

"See ya in a bit, okay?"

"Alright, Ran."

That's what he used to call me when we used to go out partying. I pushed him out the door.  "In twenty."

The second he left, I called her:

As soon as I got rid of him, I called Mimi.

"Hey, babe," she greets with a little giggle. I smile at my reflection in the hotel mirror, looking at my bed, knowing that my ringer on her phone was I Wanna Do Bad Things With You.

"Hey, at the hotel."

"Nice?"

"Yeah," I sigh as I plop down on the bed, kick off my shoes and put my feet up. "It'd be alot more fun if you were here."

"I miss you, too." She is quiet for a moment. "Where's Paul?"

"Paul is someplace being Paul."

"'Photographer getting my money Paul' or 'I want my running buddy back Paul?'"

"Doesn't matter," I recline back on the pillow. "He's not wearing a ring."

"Good answer!" she giggles. "So, what're you up to, tonight?"

"Tonight is just dinner and drinks," I sigh. "Wish you were here for dessert, babe."

Her little sharp intake of breath makes me smile. "Oh, I wish I was, too."

"But then I wouldn't be as motivated to get work done and get home," I look around. "Wanna see the room? I'd love to bring you here."

"Let me see."

"Nice!"

"Restful, romantic," I correct. "But I bet it's a damn good view in the morning." 

"Yeah."

I note the sadness in her voice as I set my travel clothes aside. "What?"

"Nothing."

"What, babe?" I start 

"In the past, I seem to remember you being quite the party animal there."

"Say it again."

"In the past--"

"Stop right there," I say quickly. "Let's leave it there."

She laughs softly. "I love you."

"I love you, too, baby," I say softly, responding to the lilt in her voice.

Suddenly there is a knock on the door. "Ah, hold on." I look to see Paul again, and let him in.

"Aw, you're not dressed?" he asks.

"We're just going downstairs."

"But--" he notices my earbud in my ear. "Is that--"

"Yes, Paul."

"Oh, hey--" 

"Flip him off for me," Mimi says with a smile I can hear.

I laugh out loud and do it.

"Rude," Paul sticks out his tongue.

"Just playin' around man--"

"Not really."  Mimi laughs. "Have fun." 

"Thanks, baby. I'll call you when I get back in." After we click off, I tell Paul, "You've got to do better with her."

"Yeah, yeah," he rolls his eyes. "C'mon man, let's go!"

@nuggsmum  @messyinsomnimaniac @jencanbeyouryengeralt  @sweetdreamsofgelato  @@mary-ann84  @omgkatinka  @the-soot-sprite  @viking-raider  @keanureevesisbae  @henryobsessed  @summersong69   @sunshine96love  @michelehansel    @thelastsock   @tumblnewby  @tenaciousneckpartypainter  @rn7rocks  @daydreamin83  @musicartmayheminmyheart @kaatelyynn-blog-blog@forallthebrokenheartedthings @alphacancrii  @liquorlaughslove @designerwriterchic   @tamychm  @nikkilynn303  @circesgirl1   @xoxohannahlee  @pixie88@fckdeusername @maan24  @kaatelyyynn​  @october505​ @absentmindr​ @introvertedmouse​  @sassy-pelican @griscka75 @kebabgirl67 @its-carlerr

[spinsterennui]

I was tagged by the lovely @archetypewriter ❤️❤️❤️ Thank you so much for thinking of me darling!!! Fair warning, though: you’ve asked *an English lit grad student* to answer questions in a written format. I hope you’ve learned your lesson lol. In my defense, I can’t help being verbose; it’s my nature!!! 😂😭

Tag 9 people you want to get to know better!!!

Last song: XTC “Respectable Street”

Last show: Burn Notice

Currently watching: I always have the tv on in the background bc it reduces anxiety for me, but I’m not necessarily watching; it’s like white noise. The shows I’m actually watching are: Burn Notice, trying to finally finish Lucifer (the second half of season 6), and I’m going to try to get to Lucky Hank either today or tomorrow, despite my having a severe issue with large beards due to traumatic childhood parent issues. I honestly can’t decide if it’s a good thing that Bob has such a terrible beard in this show or not 😭 Like the fact that he’s playing an English professor might have been too indulgent for me without the off-putting facial hair lol.

Currently reading: Unfortunately I don’t read much for pleasure at the moment. A lot of this has to do with being so behind in my dissertation, which causes me to feel like I shouldn’t/can’t read anything that isn’t research; consequently, I end up just not reading. That said, I have been reading bits of Bob’s book A Load of Hooey, which is hilarious and ridiculous but is also easy to pick up and put down because it has a lot of very short parts. Books closer to my research: Killer Apes, Naked Apes & Just Plain Nasty People: The Misuse and Abuse of Science in Political Discourse by professor emeritus of anthropology at St. Lawrence University Richard J. Perry (a history and critique of biological determinism that is written for a non-academic audience — I highly recommend it) and, a more theory-based text, The Age of Scientific Sexism: How Evolutionary Psychology Promotes Gender Profiling and Fans the Battle of the Sexes by feminist/queer theorist and Distinguished Professor of critical theory and gender/sexuality studies at University of Toronto Mari Ruti (also fantastic albeit a bit dated as it’s from 2015 — Ruti has a very interesting writing style, but this book can be challenging for someone unfamiliar with theory and/or reading heavily academic texts).

Current obsession: I mean all apologies for being interminably repetitious, but Burn Notice (as well as Jeffrey Donovan in Burn Notice because a) he’s an incredible actor and b) he is seriously fucking hot in this role). I’m actually rewatching (yes AGAIN), but mainly because I realized that I hadn’t really been paying attention to seasons 1-2 during the rewatch.

When Better Call Saul ended I wasn’t really ready to invest in a totally new show (except for a couple of shorter ones), because it left me a tad despondent I suppose. I’d watched it from day one, back in 2015, after we’d binged Breaking Bad. So I saw that Burn Notice was streaming and thought “low stakes rewatch” because even though I watched the whole series when it originally aired, it ended back in like 2013 I think, and I’d honestly forgotten how good it is. Despite its flaws, it is such an entertaining and satisfying show. It has an incredibly strong and unique female character, and the way Michael and Fiona’s relationship develops (or re-develops) is fun and frustrating and emotionally rewarding at once. They’re both deeply flawed, deeply traumatized characters who love each other more than they love themselves, and slowly they both grow to realize that they can bring out the good in each other while helping to mitigate the bad. They save other people, that’s the sort of formula of the show beyond the burned spy part, but they also save each other, in more ways than one.

I really love shows that, at their core, turn out to be about something more substantial than what appears on the surface, particularly if that something is love in some form. When a show surreptitiously sneaks in a message about love, that show tends to stick with me so much longer and affect me so much more deeply. Better Call Saul, The X-Files, The Americans (admittedly in a fucked up way), The Glory, Lucifer, Leverage (which reminds me that I still need to watch the new one), or even Bates Motel (or ​Buffy/Angel in some ways) all, to one extent or another, have an underlying narrative of love (not just romantic, although that’s a fave for me), as well as related themes of identity (and what it means — like both what you choose and what others assign to you and how that affects your ability to be a fulfilled human), trauma and the aftermath, and family (both blood and found). These themes are quite overt in some of the shows I mentioned and less so in others, but in my opinion the threads run through them all. However, in Burn Notice they each are incorporated into the story incredibly well, which is a big part of what makes the show so compelling for me.

Okay, essay over!!!!! All apologies 😫 Anyway here’s a photo of a special birdie friend on my mantle (the spots are blacked out for privacy bc they are photos of my nephews) ❤️

I’m not going to tag nine people but I am tagging @veyzus @yellowginghamdream @tahiri-veyla @darkskywishes (though I haven’t seen them in a while so I hope all is well) and @nissameta1782 (I always feel weird tagging unless I know someone pretty well, which is weird bc I love being tagged by people I’ve never talked to before lol . . . go figure). Please don’t feel pressured!!! Ignore if you want ❤️

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary29

10/3-4/2023

nothing much. we'll cover all the rugs with cheap perfume.

nothing much happened today, i recorded little pieces for 2 songs, i got to do the super noisy stuff i wanted to do for the remaster of the single i put out, plus i added some screaming, and i added new vocal layers/replaced some/removed some for the next single. that's exciting, i think now the kicks are too loud in that song, and maybe i could bring the bass up a touch.

so much of this is like, touch and go, tomorrow i don't know what i'm gonna do, probably one of the new short songs, and then, i guess i'll see about one of the songs that i think needs a lot of work re: guitars and just throw vocals onto that to try, since i have them written.

my gf wants to go to another drag thing tomorrow so i need to be up earlier and stuff, today we're going to see a queen who almost won last season of rupaul's. it feels strange talking about it, because only from her has it leaked into my life. or i dunno. leak in makes it sound negative, when you live with someone, your interests get all over each other. i think i'm quieter about my stuff, so it's like, only sometimes i talk about whatever, but there's stuff that's just always involved with me that's probably been passed off to her and i don't even realize really. i think i basically like that she's exposed me to drag race so much because it is funny, it's just weird because it's demonstrably kind of commodified a whole part of queer history, and rupaul was there for it, which makes it more complex. looking at old drag magazines and stuff, the definitions were a lot blurrier, they were host to a lot of people who did want to transition essentially, and then people who were like "i'm whatever" also (and in film too you can see this, where it's a blurry undefined thing (meaning what anyone is (thinking in particular about funeral parade of roses (you can see in my eye makeup that i draw my lashes on cuz of that movie)))). it's not that this blurriness every went away or something but there's more lines separating what things are what is for who and so on. maybe that's because i've just been put in a box myself, by the people i've been sorted into being around online (this sounds miserable over it or something, all i am lamenting is maybe a lack of perspective) make greater efforts to delineate and say, over there is that type of person, over here we stand, when there's blurriness, it's different, and so on. it's a frustrating thing, whatever the case.

it's also weird because rupaul basically sucks, but i think it's kind of great, some seasons of the show, it's essentially takeshi's castle for drag queens, it's totally psychotic at points. i'm kind of sad my gf caught up because hearing about what goes on in the show (i couldn't see at a certain point really because he speakers got fucked up somehow and we don't know what to do other than buy new ones at some point) was genuinely super fun/made me happy.

anyways i think my favorite queen was probably alaska . probably an annoying pick but she is kind of a skinny legend.

i didn't read today, but, i dunno, i'm dumb i guess, i feel really stupid, kind of, i dunno. i always worry about being really an idiot.

so i guess, coming off of the feeling like an idiot, to feel more like an idiot, one thing i'm excited about is this one guy's tradition every year of playing a silent hill game on his yt channel, and this year he's gotten to something truly awful, homecoming. i don't know why i'm so excited for that, it's been years since i've seen anyone play that game in full, since i was a kid, back then even i was mega obsessed with the other sh games, but i also had no real sense of quality, so it had cool creatures that were mottled flesh and vaguely tortured, and familial discomfiture, that at least spoke to me, nothing on the level of all of sh1, 2 and 3, but it was like, a strange update on it all and that connected even at the time. what i'm seeing now, is i how strangely it reflected a pretty exact atmosphere of the time, the directing of cutscenes is, much more than anything else, inflicted with so much bullshit prestige tv runoff but directed wrong, and also, saw. the game is so saw, to the point of not understanding anything about sh really beyond few moments, which makes it fascinating. there's this part where alex is in a fucked up elevator and it squeals and shakes and stuff, awful noises are issued, and a huge knife comes through the door and kills him, final destination shit. it's like the game missed the parts of fire walk with me that featured totally broken quotidian things, the eruption of the faulting and failing into daily life, the wailing elevator isn't a horror device, it's simply real life magnified, ending it with a death like that destroys its ability to refer to the tiniest, most forgettable wounds in our daily life, the fear at a world at the edge of not working constantly, and a world that's hostile not because of unseen forces, but because of what we see, its regular operation unmasked as abject/grotesque, or not even unmasked, felt and expressed. so the game fails to be about america in all the subtle ways silent hill was originally (thinking about the billboard in sh2 that says "your ad here" in the sequence where you go to the historical society thru the town). it also misses all the ero-guro art connections and all the game's love affairs w/ the surrealists (bacon + bellmer an obv example but i'd say, sincerely, the first 3/4 end up having artaud and bataille in them, if only by receiving them thru ero guro artist interpretations of those works). instead it trades all that in for a baffling emphasis on wanting to be like the tv show lost (another legendarily bad game was cut from this same cloth, that reboot of alone in the dark). anyways sorting through all this is a joy for me a bit, and also, the ways the game feels like it hits on something meaningful (its posing of regular american christianity as a cult (the games prior do this too but this one feels really so on the nose, but that produces an interesting effect)) or even insightful, it feels like steps away from being a game about evangelical rapture panic and preppers or something. instead it trades in undercurrents in mass culture for attempts at the personal that fail, because it doesn't seem interested in its characters really. it's also such a dude-ist game, the nurses and the military stuff, so weird.

anyways that person who does that yearly is supergreatfriend. i don't know why i like his stuff so much. maybe it's because he's the only guy on yt with a playthru of illbleed that's any good. i love that game, it's also kind of genius. i miss how freely abject horror games used to be, not just gory or scary, but abject, where everything is exaggerated and filthy, not because like, that's scary, but because that's how you feel in a supermarket or mall or hospital for real or something, pr thinking of rule of rose, that's how social reality felt, that cruel and perverse. the exaggeration is only a tool to get you back there, in memory, again. it feels largely gone, maybe because the hd era prevents that level of exaggeration sitting beside "realism" like it used to be able. i dunno. the cheap and trash-like was so much more palpably present in those old games, for me at least, the stuff that for regular operation, had to be ignored, despite its constant presence, facts of life left to anterooms in your head, thoughts forced into being dead ends or whatever. i'd love to figure out why everything feels so much cleaner now. beyond how it's achieved, the cleanliness, i mean in particular why people decided against what was. it felt perfectly capable of approaching what actually unsettled us and prodding us towards reconciliation (not redemption, if anything, an embrace of these horrors/ embrace of the fact of horror, and then the turn away from the sanitary).

everything i like is like that, like books and stuff, i'm always on about that when you let me, but it's october, so i'm allowed, right. well i'll just keep doing it forever i guess, cuz i'm a broken record.

it's just so pretty to me. like yes, my life does feel like spirit halloween all the time, total dirty vomitrocity.

and stuff like this is just unbelievable i think.

this got me on flickr looking at hans bellmer stuff, rarer scans i've not got and also other stuff people tagged as related. i found quite an insane doll artist on there, who took some of the most uncanny photos ever it seems like.

i would like to use these somehow, in something, they're too evocative to not i think. the smudgy digital photography and the near-human figures, it's just so near my heart/how i feel.

anyways i'm stupid , stupid tired. i accidentally typed tied, instead of tied.

anyways, byebye!!

[beans-in-your-socks]

Under the Sycamore Tree- Chapter 1

!!TW!! mentions of depression, curse words

Chapter 1

Tea and reading

If, unlike me, you value your sanity in any way shape or form, I strongly suggest you put this book down NOW. My name is Aspen, not that that matters, but when you open a book, you expect to know who you’re reading about. I like tea and I like reading. I mostly stay inside all day. My parents say I should get out more. I say they’re hypocrites.

Anyway, I finished making my tea and sat down to drink it. People are often shocked that I can drink boiling tea. I’d say about 79% of my tastebuds have burnt off from 10 years of drinking it. I heard a knock on the door. Sh*t. It’d slipped my mind that Briar was coming over today. To be completely honest, I wasn’t really in the mood for seeing anyone today. I had completely forgotten we had scheduled to meet up, but it’s not like I could just turn them away from my door, they were my best friend… I got up and dragged my feet over to the door, and unlocked it. I was greeted by a large bouquet of flowers in my face. Daisies. I liked daisies. Briar knew that.

“You seemed kind of down last week so I thought I might bring something to cheer you up!” they smiled. I liked their smile. I always knew it was sincere and it filled me with a warm squishy feeling. I took the flowers out of their hands with a nod of gratitude. They came in and sat themselves down on one of my many fluffy cushions that decorated the lounge room floor. I filled a vase with water and plopped the daises in. They were hand-picked. I could tell. Briar didn’t like store bought flowers. Something about them being “unnatural”. I made my way over to the fridge and got out a bottle of orange juice. I didn’t like orange juice, I only bought it for when Briar came over (which was very often) because they refused to drink anything else. I poured it into a glass and brought it (and my tea) to where they were sitting.

We chatted for a while. Something seemed off though. They kept on fidgeting with their hair and bouncing their legs, more than usual. I noticed this and asked,

“What’s on your mind? You seem nervous.” They went red in the face. They were like a little cherry tomato when they were embarrassed. They exhaled, the red starting to leave their cheeks.

“I want to ask Amethyst out, but I don’t know how, and I’m worried she’ll reject me and that maybe she won’t want to be friends with me anymore and-” I grabbed them by the shoulders. Amethyst was one of the people in our friend group. Feminine, beautiful, intelligent, kind but sort of a perfectionist. She was one of the nicest people I knew.

“Do you want to do this?” I asked “Yes…?” they answered.

“Ok then do it,” I replied, “I’m honestly surprised you came to me for relationship advice, given my track record.” They laughed.

We chatted for a bit longer until they had to leave. I took the remains of my tea and poured it down the sink. I wasn’t thirsty anymore. Forest woke up and stretched herself out.

“Ooh big stretch” I cooed.

She jumped down from the couch and rubbed her soft black body on my legs. I went and sat on one of the bean bags and flicked on the TV.

“This just in, twenty-four people killed in “

“a mass murderer has been given bail- “

“Are you feeling lonely? Depressed? Like nobody- “

I turned off the TV. I got up and went back to bed. Forest jumped up between my legs and nestled herself in. The gentle arms of sleep beckoned me. Maybe tomorrow would be a better day…

[ieatsurveys]

How often do you wear necklaces? 📿 I don't.

Would you rather wear a bracelet or a necklace? 📿 Necklace.

Do you own a coral sweater? I do not.

Which name do you like best: Emily, Ellery, or Eliana? Er, Emily, I suppose.

What season were you born in?

Early fall.

What season is your favorite? Spring.

When was the last time you had a donut? 🍩 It's been a while.

Which spelling do you like better: Jillian or Gillian? Jillian.

Have you ever wondered how the country of Ireland got its name? 🇮🇪 No.

Which name do you like best for a girl: Harmony, Harper, Harlow, Harvest, or Harley? Harley.

What is your favorite shade of green? 💚 Dark.

What is your least favorite shade of green? 🫒 Light.

Which name do you like best for a girl: Bianca, Brogan, or Briar? Can we stop asking about names now?

....how about out of these: Carly, Carmen, or Carlotta?

Which name do you like better: Jasmine or Yasmin?

Did you used to wish that you could own some of the same outfits as your dolls? No.

Do you think you look better with your hair up or down? Down.

What is your favorite shade of blue? 💙 Dark.

What is your least favorite shade of blue? What is up with the names and the colors in this survey? I like all shades of blue.

Would you rather ride a motorcycle 🏍️ or a regular bicycle 🚴? Motorcycle.

What is the name of one island you have vacationed on? 🏝️ I haven't.

Which one-syllable girl's name do you like best: Claire, Cove, Dawn, Rose, or Jade? I'm skipping these.

When was the last time you wore leggings? It's been a while.

What is your most severe allergy? 🤧 I'm not allergic to anything.

Do you own a purple sweater? No.

How often do you create surveys? I don't create surveys anymore.

What is one game you have cheated on? Go Fish when I was like, 6.

Do you believe it's ever ok to cheat on a test? 📝 No, but I've done it.

Have you ever cheated on a test? 📝 Yes.

What's your favorite song by Miley Cyrus? Wrecking Ball, haha. Since it's the only song I've listened to by her.

What was the last song you listened to on repeat? Hm, I don't know.

What was the best part of your day today (or yesterday)? Watching You.

How often do you wear earrings? I'm wearing earrings tomorrow. I don't have my ears piereced, so I use clip ons. Sh, no one ever knows.

Have you ever worn a stuffed animal at an age guessing booth? 🧸 No.

What is something you own that you've had since you were in high school? Sweatpants.

What year did you join Facebook? 2006 or 2007.

What was the first color you ever dyed your hair? Dark red.

Name three countries you have no desire to visit.

For obvious reasons, Afghanistan, Syria and North Korea. -> yep.

What is one thing most people seem to like the smell of, but you don't? I don't know.

Have you ever been scammed? No.

Are you smart? 🧠 I think so.

What color is your dresser? White.

If applicable, what color was the dress you wore to your very first Homecoming Dance? 💃 Red.

When was the last time you purchased something from a bakery? 🧁 I don't remember.

....and what was it that you purchased? *shrugs*

What is your computer's desktop background? Space.

When was the last time you used washi tape, and what did you use it for? I've never used it.

List three big cities you have visited and would love to visit again. Boston, NYC, Fairfax.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how happy are you with your life? Pretty happy. 8.

What brings you joy? Food, hahahah. I love to eat.

What's your most cherished memory? Hmmm, I have a few.

Do you believe in God? Why or why not? Yes.

Were you named after anyone, and if so, who? No.

When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper? 📝 It's been a minute.

Which spelling do you use for the color: gray or grey? Grey.

Who has hurt you the most? My Dad. 

Who or what is your happy place? I'm a homebody, so home.

If you could erase horrible memories, what memory would you erase? Something I'd rather not dive into on the Internet.

When was the last time you cried? I don't usually cry, so I don't remember.

If you could go anywhere in the world right now (all expenses paid), where would you go? England.

How do you feel at the moment? Pretty good.

Do you believe that you're a strong person? Yes.

What's your biggest dream? Become an ASL interpreter.

Paintings or digital pictures? I like both.

Are you scared to love? No, but I do think people are as they get older. Or at least that's been my experience with the opposite gender. No one wants to settle, no one wants to commit, yada yada yada.

What's your biggest fear? Being alone when I die.

Are you afraid of heights? It depends.

Are you in love? No.

Do you prefer a bright or dark room? Dark.

Have you ever danced in the rain? ☔️ 💃 At some point, I'm sure.

Do you have a good relationship with your parents? Yes.

Have you ever cried because you were so happy? I cried when I first held my nephew for the first time. So, yes.

Books or movies? I enjoy both.

[uozlulu]

yammering about that ACD SH fic I’m working on so I can get my brain in gear for tomorrow

Okay so I think I’ve figured out how this fic works now. Basically:

This is set in July and August 1902 (so post-Garridebs as you do)

Holmes is aroace. If the right man or woman came along he might consider being life partners. Luckily there’s Watson

Watson is graysexual. He likes sex but can also go without it. He invents wives in the stories for the dramatic appeal of it all, which is why by some counts he has like a half dozen wives.

They are both part of the same old timey underground LGBT+ club, but neither of them knows the other is a part of this club mostly because neither of them really considered the possibility and Watson tends to go when Holmes is in a depressed state and Holmes tends to go when he’s in one of his manic states.

There are four oc’s because I needed two lavender marriages to make this plot bunny work. The transwoman and an admiral are going to get spiritually married in secret and their lesbian wives are helping them throw the party in the countryside away from prying eyes. So they invite a good portion of the club including Holmes and Watson (separately though)

Anyway, I’ve got the set up, the arrival/discovery, and wedding all written out in the first draft now. Now I’ve got to figure out how to pull this all together. So here’s what I need to think about so I can write effectively tomorrow:

I need to get Holmes and Watson alone. Preferably outside probably on the way home because I already used the bedroom at the estate for the huh we are both here at this thing and in this club scene

Holmes, who is treating his reaction to what Watson said in an earlier conversation, has to put that together with how he felt during the Garridebs’ fiasco and come to a conclusion that while he’s still aroace, he doesn’t want to lose Watson (except said in less of a modern lingo of course). Kind of a you don’t really necessarily want to kiss this person or bang them but you still kind of want them to be around every day for the rest of forever kind of deal-ish thing (this is still cooking in my head)

Watson, meanwhile, has been thinking about the conversation and so forth and something something I need to clean his section up a bit but he wants to revisit the topic because he doesn’t want to leave it so vague

Not completely sure how it ends exactly but I think if I can figure out how these potential pieces fit (or lead to better pieces) then I’ll probably bring it to a decent conclusion.

I did find out today that I’m writing in a time period after persoonalized wedding vows but before the London Symphony Orchestra (by two years who knew)

[bosbinnsusb]

I wanted to draw my favorite characters