#works—☆

[glazelilyy]

before the roar of thunder

pairings (separately!) - diluc ragnvindr, kaeya alberich, childe/tartaglia, xiao x gender neutral reader (no pronouns used!)

word count - 4597

genre - angst, hurt/comfort

format - drabbles

warnings - blood/injury/wound mentions, cataclysmic destruction, violence, crying, kissing, character deaths with no graphic description (but not for the paired character or reader EXCEPT in childe's)

summary - a storm approaches but just before it does, you share a tender moment with your beloved for the last time

a/n - i have been mia for a while :') but this idea just kinda hit me out of nowhere so i decided to write about it :P i don't know if this writing will live up to expectations or any of my work from the past because i haven't written in a while but i'm trying to enjoy writing just because i like it rather than to live up to an expectation, so i'm gonna try and do my best :) i hope you enjoy this piece and thank you all so much for your patience and love these past few months i could not be more grateful that i am being interacted with and sent such wonderful messages <3 (also fun fact i listened to multiple vbs songs while writing most of this which just doesn't fit in with anything happening in these drabbles and majority of the time i had akito rapping in my ear while writing about death LMAO)

diluc loved.

he loved his city, born from the death of corruption and nurtured by the souls and free spirits of her people. he loved the crisp breeze that swept by falcon coast and cradled its peak in a bough of brevity where his worries would fly away and cast themselves up into the sky to become stars. he loved the shade from beneath the towering tree at windrise where memories of summers and picnics and childhood mischief came alight with a single glance towards her wavering leaves. he loved the cool touch of a crystalfly's perch upon his gloved finger.

he loved his companions; silently from afar he'd send well wishes in quiet messages meant only for their hands to caress or ears to indulge. he loved lisa; lazy as she might appear not once had she ever let him down. he loved jean: hardworking, disciplined, strong, courageous, but for every pedestal she was placed on was she ever more human—flesh and blood with a heart that pounded for others and never herself. he loved kaeya—his beloved little brother who always preferred the cool shade of his shadow and shielded his back from the many blades that sought his head.

he loved you. you who brought light with gentle hands and placed it within his heart. you who illuminated the dark, winding pathway of justice he thought he'd walk alone forever. you who showed him trust, who knew how he liked his tea (sweet, for a man who was even sweeter). you, who braided cecilias into his hair and peppered kisses across his ruddy cheeks and doused him in all the sugary sweetness that love could ever provide.

diluc loved, and loved, and loved, tremendously.

and he still loved, even as mondstat burned in a storm of fire.

he still loved, even as he stood over lisa and jean whose eyes had lost their brilliance and sparkle of life.

he still loved, even as he wept for his little brother who had feared death and spent his remaining strength gripping onto the tassels of his jacket and begged for him to stay; to reassure him in his last moments.

he stayed, despite the agony that coursed through his body and the never-ending sorrow that scorched his heart when kaeya stilled.

he still loved, even as he gripped your hand with tenacity laced in his veins.

soot and ash coated both of your bodies and faces as you stood at the gates of mondstat and watched the world before you crumble beneath your feet.

diluc felt his heart bob up and down in the narrow passageway of his throat.

he was always too late.

too late for his city. too late for his friends. for his brother.

the love in his heart was never enough. he was never enough. and now everything was gone. burning.

never before had he despised looking at his vision so much.

"they'll be back," you whispered hoarsely, and diluc turned to look at you, "the abyss order."

your hand seemed to squeeze his with every ounce of strength you had left, eyes wide and trembling with the flickering flames of destruction reflected in the glassy haze of your irises. the fresh tear tracks on your face twisted his heart into a knot.

"i know," he replied, never once casting his gaze away from you, "i'm still alive, after all."

diluc would not tell you that he could smell the unmistakable stench of abyssal magic from over the horizon. he couldn't. you'd seen horror after horror and now was not the time to tell you that more bloodshed approached. the abyssal army approached slowly and steadily, and soon they would be here to have his head on a stick. there was no running, there was no use escaping the inevitable.

"diluc..." you turned to him, doll-like and devoid of life with a tremble of sorrow buried in the abyss in your expression, "what do we do?" you whispered to him, as if he contained secrets of the universe that should only be shared between the two of you.

wordlessly, he pulled you close and rubbed a soothing hand in gentle strokes up and down your back. his embrace guarded you from the inevitable end that slowly crouched closer, rising with newborn sun. gloved, soot-covered hands slid up to your cheeks to thumb away at the tears that collected near your eyes.

diluc's heart wrenched in his throat uncomfortably, knowing well and good that this may be the last tender moment he'll ever share with you.

to that end, he found himself asking, "would you care for a dance?"

the question came out broken and hoarse, just barely under a whisper and lost was the man who once held a burning flame of retribution and tenacious blaze of justice in his eyes. you peered into a pool of tired red, glossed over with a misty haze of sorrow.

wordlessly, you allowed him to guide your hands and let him set the tempo as you moved carefully to avoid the debris scattered at your feet.

you'd always joke that he was much like a prince when he danced; so elegant and refined with the composure of royalty itself, he spun and dipped you much like a silk ribbon weaving through the air.

this time, however, diluc held you close and swayed to an invisible song. no elegant movements or dips from your prince. now, he was but a man clinging to the last remnants of life in his soul; the only thing tethering him to this world.

your hearts wildly pounded against each other's chests, horribly out of sync yet still so tremendously close that you'd fuse together if you could.

as the sun rose and illuminated his once beloved city, home to the people he loved, diluc leaned in and captured your lips one last time in a kiss that touched your soul and wrapped your heart in a blazing warmth of flame.

his hand wrapped so tightly around your waist and held itself firm at the back of your head, desperate to drink every last drop of your love and desperate to not let your eyes open and see that the abyssal army had breached what was left of mondstat's defenses.

diluc loved, and loved, and he loved you more than life itself. but in the end his love was never enough.

(continued utc!)

once, at the tender age of five or six, kaeya alberich witnessed death for the first time.

he'd grown fond of the butterflies that fluttered near the crystal clear lake behind dawn winery. their vibrant colors were foreign and new and his childhood intrigue urged him to watch with glowing eyes at each flap of its multicolored wings.

it was on one of these days where he found himself in the presence of the gleaming scythe of death itself when a colossal frog leapt from the waters and captured a butterfly within its maw.

he'd never felt such fear, and he convinced himself he'd never feel that fear again.

he now realized he was wrong.

he felt it again when diluc screamed, a horrifying sound, for his fallen father and kaeya did not know how to handle the immensive wave of relief that flooded over him. he felt it when a fiery blade swung itself down against his eye and believed his punishment was nigh. he felt it now, as mondstat burned to the ground and the corpses of citizens, knights, and abyssal monsters alike littered the once love-filled, lively streets.

death had always followed him closely like a friend—like a lover, he corrected himself. its arms wrapped around his body and cooed sweet nothings to him. death trotted after him wherever he went.

perhaps he should've gave into its embrace. maybe if he had, death wouldn't have found a lover in his home and snuffed the life and vivacity out of every mondstatian and every building within the city's walls. death would not have sunk its claws into jean, who took the abyssal army's leader with her when she pounded at the gates of celestia. or lisa and albedo, who fought at the western front for days on end only to succumb to the overwhelming onslaught of enemies with not enough manpower. what a shame, kaeya thought; he was rather looking forward to his daily midnight tea session with lisa and bothering albedo during his experiments. in some other universe, he is there and he is happy.

he loathed to think of it, but death had latched its talons into the flesh of little klee. a child was no exception to this hoard of monsters, but was the monster not truly him for failing them all? he wondered as he held her cold body close and wept.

death had always followed him but kaeya came to the conclusion that he was the one who truly wielded death. where he went, bodies dropped and lives fell into ruin. his prime example: his brother, who now lay at his feet with a sword through his back. a sword through his back, he seethed, because his attackers were so cowardly that they knew this uncrowned king would not go down so easy. it filled kaeya with an ugly rage that blotted out the tears in his eye. his shirt remained caked in diluc's blood from when the man brought him into a hug as he dangled at death's edge and whispered apology after apology into his ear.

always caught between the worlds of the blessed and the sinned, kaeya believed that he had grown quick enough to outmaneuver fate itself. but death remained steadfast and tenacious.

death was his lover and he was doomed to dance an everlasting tango so long as he lived. if not for him, the imposter in an aviary full of beautiful, golden-winged seabirds, perhaps the abyssal army would have left mondstat alone. jean would be here, ready to give him an earful for getting carried away with all the scars littering his body. albedo would chide him as he dressed his wounds while klee went on about another dodoco story while her little legs swung back and forth in the air. lisa would hand him a cup of tea and enjoy his company in silence. diluc...oh diluc, all the things he wished to tell his brother.

the only problem in his death theory was you.

you were still here.

you held him close as he wept for his beloved friends, for the little girl who always called him big brother, and for his beloved most treasured big brother whose fiery hair blazed no more.

how were you still here? was death not his lover? did he not bring death and sorrow wherever he went?

but if anything you were life. in your hands he renewed himself again, much like a butterfly unfurling its wings after cocooning for so long. warm smiles and fluttering kisses always greeted him after a long day's work. even now, as you wept beside him for your fallen friends, you remained his last thread of life keeping him tethered to this world.

"everyone's dead." you whispered from the crook of his neck as you both sat on the dust covered ground where the statue of barbatos once stood, mighty and proud.

"i'm sorry." he pleaded in return.

you shot your head up, bewildered and...offended.

"it's not- it's not your fault!"

kaeya laughed dryly, "oh, darling, you know it is."

death was his lover and he was succumbing to it. death was his lover and he drank in each of its poisonous kisses and sneaky touches.

you wasted no time in bringing him close, effectively delaying off death for a while longer. "it. is. not. your. fault."

"they'd be elsewhere if not for me-"

"mondstat would have fallen a lot quicker without you, kaeya," you interrupted, "you are no harbinger or vessel of death. you protected this city and its people with your life."

how did you always know what to say? perhaps you were an archon—that would be funny, wouldn't it? a sinner and an archon in love. kaeya wanted to laugh at the thought of it but all that left his lips was a broken whine that slid into a muffled sob. you were there to catch him as he fell into the overwhelming onslaught of sorrow that flickered around him much like the distant flames of burning houses and crinkle of crackling wood and stone.

"it should have been me." he croaked.

you shook your head and swept away the locks that clung to his sweaty forehead. "if it were ever you, i would go as well."

his heart ached in the cavity of his chest, eager to run away from this all. but he lay tired in your arms as you peppered kisses to his skin. even as you sunk to the ground on your side and gathered him in your arms, all he felt was the overwhelming tide wash over him.

death was not his lover, you were. and you were life. he loved living with you and with his beloved friends and comrades.

he lay beside you and kissed every inch of your face, covering you in his love. he cared not for the distant roar of abyssal mages and monsters anymore, not when he held life itself within his arms. life who kissed him back with just as much love and sweet tenderness that set his heart alight.

on this day, two butterflies sat perched on a perfect calla lily, waiting for the inevitable end of a frog's maw; their hearts and souls forever intertwined.

childe can't remember many of his dreams, but there is one he's clung onto for years.

he is in a soft bank of snow, surrounded by his darling siblings and cherished parents. his father does not look at him as if he's seen a beast dredged up from the darkest of nightmares. the world around him is pure and crafted of childhood dreams: there is no evil and there is no heart ache.

you are there and you are smiling at him, waiting for him with open arms.

this has remained but a mere dream of his for a reason.

in reality, there was only the cold, concrete ground of the fatui jail cell and dry, underground air that left him suffocating. slivers of eerie, ghostly blue light trickled in from the false candles that lined the underground jail. the rust-caked iron bars bathed reluctantly in the ghastly glow.

his eyes flickered up to the ceiling, hoping to make out shapes or cracks within the foundation. just give me some hope, archons if you're listening—please! but the gods stayed silent and the ceiling remained unchanged.

his vision and delusion had been stripped, weapons all but ripped from his hands. there was no hope left. childe let his gaze wander to you.

you lay in the cell across, face down, unconscious after taking the butt of a fatui gun to the nape. how cruel—to involve the lover of a scorned harbinger. for the god of love the tsaritsa was awfully sadistic. no matter how much he struggled and screamed that you should not bear the burden of his crimes it did nothing but urge the fatui to get their hands on you even more urgently.

childe wishes that he had accepted reality—wishes that he had never tried to desert from the fatui. steal away under the cover of night with you in hooded cloaks and cross the snezhnayan border for a life free of misery and a life where it'd be you and him together.

as much as the fatui have given him power, you have given him strength and courage and hope and love. there was no place for childe among the fatui, not when he wanted his place to be by your side. to feel your love each and every day and wake up to your smile.

you stirred from your cell, snapping childe from his thoughts. his hands snatched themselves at the bars, eyes blown wide and searching for signs that you were okay.

"hmmn...childe? where...where are we?"

his heart ached tremendously and beat against the skin of his throat.

"jail." he whispered.

"what?! but...but we were just about to cross the border when-"

"when we were caught by pulcinella's men," childe finished, "and brought here. i've been charged with desertion and my punishment is at sunrise."

childe hated seeing you feel anything but happiness—anything but love and the sunshine of emotions that you deserved to experience. he failed you when tears gathered in your eyes.

"but the punishment for desertion..."

childe smiled with eyes that swam in a sea of sorrow, "execution." he finished.

you lifted yourself up onto your forearms and dragged your semi-awake body to the edge of the jail cell. between each cell lay a narrow path, where you desperately reached your hand out to the other side. the tears that had gathered in your eyes streaked their way down in hazes across your cheeks as you suppressed your sobs and whines. your fingers shook with everything within you as you stretched and reached out to him, this beautiful, golden man whose wings would be clipped at sunrise.

childe scrambled to shove his hand past the bars and reach your hand. he only managed to grab onto the tips of your fingers but it was enough for him. you were in his grasp, it was enough for him.

he was thankful his family would not have to bear the brunt of his desertion, he should really thank mister zhongli for sneaking them out of the country into liyue. he regrets not having you go along with his family, but you insisted on going with him. it's his fault you were in jail.

reality was far too cruel.

"you'll escape, right? you've always got a plan." you pleaded between heaving breaths.

childe weakly laughed from an ugly, hopeless place.

he wished to make all your dreams come true, protect all your wishes and hold your smiles and laughter close like a warm trinket tied around his neck. anything but this ceaseless crying and sorrow that he felt slither from your heart through your arm and into your connected hands.

"come now, no tears, sunshine. you know i'll be okay, i'll figure something out." childe cooed, though he knew better. oh, lord, these lies would swallow him whole, but it is fated.

"do you promise?" you whispered brokenly.

his heart screamed at him not to do it, conscience pounding at the doors of self control in his mind. but childe was a protector of dreams and happiness.

a lean, scar riddled pinky looped in your own, holding tight to the invisible promise that linked the two of you. "i'll keep it all my life."

"if you break it i'll throw you on the ice myself."

the warbled smile on your face was enough. your watery eyes and tender touch gave him light that was not reminiscent of death like the flickering blue candles that lined the jail.

"of course. i'll owe you a duel as well. do you think you'll best me this time?"

you scoffed and tugged on his fingers, "of course i will, so you have to stay alive for me to beat you."

"well, i can't ignore orders from the top now can i?" he joked and reveled in the muted laugh that bubbled past your lips.

even in the bleakest of moments you gave him hope, like a light shining in a sea of never ending darkness.

"you'll always have me, no matter where i am. i promise you i won't let them hurt you." he whispered, and unlike that last promise, he meant it.

you held his hand until the guards came and even as you screamed and pleaded and cried with all your heart for him to stay, there was some morbid part of childe that was glad he got to hold your hand for the last time. he called out his declarations of love one last time as he fought against the grip of the guards and shoved his hands through your jailcell bars to cup to face and swipe away your tears. agony coursed through his veins as the guards ripped him from your grip and your fingers slipped through his hands like the sands of an hourglass. the last picture of your face would be one of horror and tear-stricken as the guards dragged him off. he whispered your name and as it rolled off his tongue it left in its wake a taste of sunshine and mirth.

i love you, more than anything in this world. more than power and glory and all the temptations of this world. you are my dream.

as he kneeled before the tsaritsa in handcuffs and chains nailed to the floor with her hand raised to deal the strike of death upon him, he smiled once more at the dream he cherished.

he is safe, and warm, and everyone he loves knows no sorrow.

though he promised to protect that dream, he knows his tongue will freeze over so that he may never spew lies again.

for as long as he's lived, xiao has prepared himself extensively for only a single thing: his death.

it wasn't a matter of sorting out the wares and material items he didn't own—such things weren't of importance to an adeptus like himself. rather, it was the acceptance of death itself. he was no stranger to this cloaked figure of fear that knocked on its hosts doors or barged in uninvited. blood covered his hands, dripped down the slope of his jaw and pooled at his feet. death invaded every crevice of his life much like a persistent parasite that sought to drive him to the brink of madness and back again. but it was familiar and offered a morbid sense of comfort.

as far as he could ever consider, xiao had waited for death for as long as he'd known the stars to dot the sky.

those same stars flickered down back at him, almost pitifully, as the ground shook with tremors that made the grass come alive and dance a morbid waltz of terror. crimson smoke painted the sky and blotted out the overhead glow of the stars. screams cried out in the distance and clashed with the sounds of blades and battle cries and war horns to produce a macabre melody that twisted a knot in his stomach.

fading bodies of monsters lay at his feet, numbers in the dozens. his breath caught in his throat, desperate to retreat yet needing to escape. he clenched his blood-bathed spear, fingers curling taut around the metal to cling to the last shred of hope he could muster.

his eyes flickered up to you, who mimicked his breathless, tired disposition as a mitachurl fell at your feet. your weapon clattered to the ground, your knees following shortly after.

xiao raced to your side in a blip, quick to grip your forearms before you could hit the ground. his polearm laid abandoned where he once stood, now its final resting place. his arms were now full of you and eyes clouded in worry. exhaustion crept its way onto your face and it was then he knew: hope was all lost.

the abyssal armies and undead, ancient gods raged onwards in the distance, they harrowing sounds a mere whisper in comparison to the loud thundering beat of your heart against his body.

reluctant as he was to touch you for fear of his karmic debt, xiao found himself hesitant to let go. for you to slip through his fingers and the fear of never allowing his fingers to trace the slopes and edges of your face invaded him like an intruder. your arms reciprocated and slid around his shoulders as a silent plea. this madness would never end, let's stop. you seemed to cry out.

perhaps this was the very moment he'd been preparing what felt like eons for. death crept its way around the corner, leaving war and destruction in its wake and its march to sink its fangs into both him and you was inevitable.

his knees buckled as you both sank to the grassy bed, bodies and limbs entangled and intertwined in a connection that seemed impossible to sever. as much as his conscience begged him to move and enact his long written duty, his body cried out a different tune, his heart a different dance altogether.

you shifted his body and laid his head on your lap, bracing yourself on a palm as your other hand worked to move the sticky strands of lush, forest-green locks from his sweat-covered forehead.

"rest, you've done well." you murmured with a gentleness in your eyes that made his stomach swim up to his throat and choked him ever so sweetly.

had he done enough? war raged on, lives devoured by the endless deluge of monsters and evil beings that sought death. his most reliable companion, death, would soon march up to his door and barge in with a demand for his head.

all the while, xiao believed that he was ready to embrace death. he pictured it perfectly: he'd meet his end in the midst of battle and his death would contribute towards a greater good. some would garner a chance to escape while the monsters gorged themselves on his death and feasted on his powers.

now, however, an unsettling sense of dread settled in his chest. the world around him burned and crashed and yet you remained intact, gently stroking his hair and humming a sweet song that you'd often coo to the birds on the railings of wangshu inn (and he loathed to look west and see the silhouette of a once towering, proud inn now toppled to the ground).

had he not readied himself for the one, singular thing that has been constant in his life? had he not witnessed enough to resolve the conflict that was life or death?

as he listened to the melody that fell from your lips with the world around him blotted out to nothing but you and him, he realized a truly frightening thing: he was not ready yet. death could not guarantee that you would be there to sit silently beside him on cool, summer nights and fold butterflies out of leaves or go crystalfly watching in the early mornings of spring. death would not ensure that he felt an uncomfortable yet welcoming warmth in his stomach when your eyes met his and a smile bloomed on your face (and though he'd never know how he should respond, you always seemed to somehow know how he felt).

he was not ready to be without you. a dreadful realization. he had failed at preparing himself for the one thing he knew was inevitable. but in this moment, as the world caved in and crumbled around you, he felt peace. his worn body lay tired and supplicant in your arms. once a weapon, now he found himself rusted and worn beyond repair left with only this beautiful longing in his heart to be filled with all of you. his eyes fluttered up to your visage and behind your kind eyes and warbling smile, the stars glimmered back down at him.

in these final moments, xiao wished to be nowhere else. with a heart so full of love, its wings unfurling and stretching high towards the sky where it'd soar on forever in an unmarked destination.

date published: january 30th, 2023

[mostly-funnytwittertweets]

@magitekconveyor

[wastehound-voof]

Little old Italian lady: Do you have zucchini?

Me: Yes, right here.

Lady: Is how much?

Me: $2.99 a pound.

Lady: It's usually $1.49.

Me: Yes, in the summer.

Lady, pauses, then grabs two: I put it in a soup.

Me: Oh nice, what kind are you making?

Lady: You will not fantasize about my soup.

And then she walked away. "You will not fantasize about my soup" will be in my head forever. I love you, little old Italian lady.

[stargoyle]

"This person has a secret onlyfans!" "This artist does NSFW commissions!" "This author writes porn on the side!" I cannot begin to tell you how swag and awesome that is.

[theriverbeyond]

Ideal work schedule:

I show up and am given a list of cognitively engaging but achievable tasks

I complete the list

I leave immedietly

[lotrmusical]

never let anyone tell you that trawling through mediocre victorian poetry isn't worth it. we just happened upon an absolute BANGER of a worm poem. go read it or else 🪱🪱🪱

[bonesandthebees]

one of the most infuriating things about becoming an adult is when you realize that it actually is 10x easier to solve problems by making a phone call vs literally any other communication method

[diabloku]

Lucifer: *enters the hotel*

Alastor: I cast vicious mockery 😈

An animation my sis and I made for fun

Music is Perception Check by Tom Cardy.

[anartificialsatellite]

The older I get the more I admire people who are earnestly, genuinely into whatever their thing is. I know it sounds like an annoying cliche but unless you're being cruel or hurtful there is really no need to be normal about things. The dude with the bad fake accent at the renaissance faire is having the time of his life. The people having photoshoots with their fashion dolls are loving it. The old lady with a yard unreasonably full of tacky ass lawn ornaments is having a blast, HOA be damned.

Don't waste your time being too cool to have fun, y'know?

[sylvies-kablooie]

i do unironically think the best artists of our generation are posting to get 20 notes and 3 reblogs btw. that fanfic with like 45 kudos is some of the best stuff ever written. those OCs you carry around have some of the richest backstories and worldbuilding someone has ever seen. please do not think that reaching only a few people when you post means your art isn't worth celebrating.

[nighthawkes]

I must sleep. Sleep is the mind-healer. Sleep is the big-life that brings total ability to fucking do anything. I will face my bed. I will permit the blankie to pass over me and snores to pass through me. And when sleep has gone past I will turn the outer eye to greet the new morning. When the sleep has gone there will be everything. Energy and will to live will remain.

[ilona-mushroom]

Not socialist in a “I won’t have to work” type of way but socialist in a “I’ll still be working but I won’t be worried I won’t make the rent” type of way. In a “billions won’t be hoarded by one person” type of way. In a “janitors, fast-food workers, child care workers, preschool teachers, hotel clerks, personal care and home health aides, and grocery store cashiers, will live comfortably” type of way. In a “the sick and elderly will be cared for” type of way. In a “no child should work” type of way.

[bookpdf]

there should be more hours between 6 and 10pm. like even just two more hours. for my assorted hobbies & activities

[bjurnberg]

My work boots are the most expensive shoes I’ve ever owned.

Also the most comfortable. I chose them after trying on several different brands and comparing lifespan vs usage vs comfort - I needed them for a physically demanding job, not the weekend hiking trails. I could have easily chosen cheaper boots that would have lasted long enough to be worth their low price, but I know the Sam Vimes Boot Theory and knew weaker, less comfortable boots would make my life harder in the long run.

So when the outside edge of the heel started wearing down after three years of heavy use I went to the shop I got them from and said “hey this is a common problem for me with how I walk but now it’s affecting my ankles and knees and I don’t wanna have to buy a new pair, is there a way to fix this?”

The salesman at this very fancy upscale boot store said “oh yeah, there’s a shoe repair place that can give you some heel guards - it’ll keep the rubber from wearing out.”

So at 8am this morning right after my 9hr shift ends I went to the shoe repair shop and it is the most hole-in-the-wall, is-this-a-real-business-or-a-mafia-front, am-I-gonna-get-shot tiny cinder block cube I’ve ever seen in my life. I grew up plenty poor and love me a good hole-in-the-wall business, but going from upscale store to this cash-only repair shop gave me whiplash. Wasn’t expecting this when a guy who wears three piece suits to sell boots said it’s the best place to go.

The skinny kid behind the counter looks somehow 16 and 25 at the same time, but when I tell him this place was recommended he smiles and says to hand over my boots. I hand him the vaguely warm foot-smelling boots, and stand in my socks in the 3’ square entryway surrounded by every color leather polish you could buy and watch as he turns my boots around in his hands, sizes up a crescent moon bits of plastic, and unceremoniously hammers tiny nails through them before handing them back.

The heels are perfectly level again. I can walk without almost rolling my ankles. They don’t clack loudly on the pavement or feel different. This is gonna fix my knee pain. It cost $10.

This kid had every tool he needed within arms reach, worked fast and smoothly, I was in and out the door in less than 8 minutes, and it only cost $10.

I didn’t think anything could cost only $10 anymore. I’m so used to hyperinflation prices I was spiritually thrown back to the 1400’s visiting the cobbler in town square. This kid might have been that cobbler and just decided to never die.

I’m still reeling from the whiplash, and gobsmacked at the price, and thrilled I didn’t have to go buy new, worse work boots (cuz I don’t have that kind of money for a second pair, I’m expecting these ones to last a decade) and it feels like I just experienced one of the rare little chunks of magic that floats around our world.

[politijohn]

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[mostly-funnytwittertweets]