#°dear-diary-of-disaster.

[vergeltvng]

Contains Strong Language, Blood

Tatsächlich schlief der alte Mann den Schlaf der Gerechten um diese unchristliche Uhrzeit, immerhin wurde er ja auch nicht mehr jünger. Seine nächtliche, spontane Besucherin hatte wie damals ihr Gespür für schlechtes Timing nicht eingebüßt. Es ist wie es ist, er würde niemals offen zugeben, nichtmal wenn man drohte ihm was abzuschneiden, dass das Verschwinden eines gewissen Jemands bei ihm durchaus ein paar Spuren hinterlassen hatte. In typischer Manier hatte er die Ereignisse verdrängt und sich anderen Dingen zugewandt. Die BOYS wiederum legten derzeit eine Pause von ihren Tätigkeiten ein und befanden sich im Standby, jeder war halbwegs in sein normales Leben zurückgekehrt und ging persönlichen Angelegenheiten nach. War viel passiert. Vielleicht hatte sie die Nachrichten verfolgt aber selbst wenn nicht, er ließ es jedenfalls ruhig angehen im Moment, erledigte hin und wieder einen Job für Mallory und beließ es dabei. Keine Rachepläne, die er unermüdlich schmiedete und verfolgte, er ließ die Seele baumeln und genoss ein ruhiges Leben? Was war bei ihm verkehrt gelaufen, war er krank oder so? Gar nicht so weit gefehlt aber selbstverständlich nicht der Rede wert wenn es nach ihm ging. Man sah es ihm äußerlich nicht an, dass er etwas nachgelassen hatte im Verlaufe der letzten Monate. Lediglich im Moment fühlte er sich verdammt im Arsch nachdem er geweckt worden war, stand hundemüde in karierten PJs in der offenen Tür und warf einen breiten Schatten auf den Flur. Vor Verschlafenheit erkannte er nicht wer da stand. "Falsche Tür, Liebes." Brummte er die Fremde an, er hielt sie für eine Nachbarin oder sonstwen. Erst dieses leise 'Hey' ließ ihn innehalten und davon absehen, der jungen Frau die Tür vor der Nase zuzumachen, um weiterzuschlafen. Er blinzelte angestrengt und das dunkle Haar irritierte ihn offensichtlich. War das die Kleine, die er kürzlich öfters getroffen hatte? Wenigstens nannte er gerade niemanden beim Namen, das bewahrte ihn wohl vor einem saftigen Tritt in die Eier. Die 'Brünette' schob sich frech durch seine Tür an ihm vorbei und allmählich dämmerte ihm was. Er knurrte ein paar Worte undeutlich in seinen Bart, drehte sich um und ließ die Tür hinter sich zufallen. Sie fühlte sich offenbar ganz wie Zuhause, warf sich auf sein Bett als wäre nie was gewesen. Natürlich erkannte er sie jetzt, stand entgeistert ein paar Meter von ihr entfernt, verschränkte die Arme und musterte sie grimmig. "Und dann denkst du es ist eine gute Idee bei mir aufzutauchen, nachdem du soviel Mist gebaut hast?" Er bezog ihre Aussage ohne Umschweife auf sich. Sein Tonfall fiel sehr kühl aus, nichtmal wütend klang er, nur wie jemand der nicht sehr versöhnlich gestimmt war. "Du lebst, immerhin. Weißt du, ich hab einen Flashback gerade. Ist mir schonmal passiert, dass jemand spurlos verschwand…" Jetzt klang er allerdings deutlich verärgerter als eben, förmlich getriggert von ihrer Unverschämtheit, einfach hier aufzutauchen. Natürlich wusste sie genau wovon er redete. Unfassbar, dass ihm das nochmal jemand antat. Nein, er war absolut nicht in der Stimmung für ein tränenreiches und emotionales Wiedersehen. "Siehst scheiße aus." Charmant wie eh und je. Und die Wahrheit, sie sah elend aus. Der einzige Grund, der ihn davon zurückhielt sie direkt wieder hochkant rauszuwerfen. {...}

Das tat sie mit voller Absicht, nicht wahr? Ihn triggern, mit ihrer plötzlich zuckersüßen Art? Dachte sie seine angestaute Wut würde ihm vom Bauch in den Sack rutschen, wenn sie ihn provozierte? Dummerweise funktionierte das bei ihm meistens, auch wenn er keine Miene verzog als sie nacheinander ein Teil nach dem anderen vor ihm ablegte. Hatte er alles schon mal gesehen und angefasst, was erwartete sie für eine Reaktion von ihm? "Kein Gesprächsbedarf." Kam es ihm übertrieben kühl von den Lippen. "Ich fick dich nicht in der Dusche, ich brech mir doch nicht den Hals um drei Uhr morgens." Setzte er nach aber man musste bei ihm wie gewohnt zwischen den Zeilen lesen, er sagte nur 'nicht in der Dusche'. Sollte sie machen was sie wollte, sie war dann wohl sein Gast für heute Nacht, sonst hätte er sie längst rausgeschmissen. Er verzog die Stirn und schnaufte angestrengt, danach wich ihm fast restlos jegliche Regung aus der Miene, er drehte sich weg und entzog sich ihrer Berührung, es fühlte sich nämlich immer noch gut an wenn sie das tat und sie glaubte doch nicht ernsthaft, dass er jetzt nur eine Sekunde daran verschwenden würde ihr Ego zu streicheln? Statt ihr Aufmerksamkeit zu schenken, bewegte er wortlos seinen Arsch zur Küchenzeile, um den Wasserkessel in Gang zu bringen. Abwarten und Tee trinken erschien ihm wie eine gute Idee, wer weiß wie er auf sie zu sprechen war nachdem er sich in Stille über ihr Auftauchen abreagiert hatte. Kam auch darauf an, welcher Nin er begegnete sobald sie aus der Dusche wieder rauskam, vielleicht war er dann zum reden aufgelegt oder für den Hatefuck des Jahres. {…}

War gut, dass sie sich für ein paar Minuten verpisste, denn ihre flapsige Antwort machte ihn noch wütender. Er würde sie niemals schlagen, das wusste sie, aber er konnte unglaublich herzlos oder verbal grob werden wenn man seine Wutknöpfe drückte mit so aufgesetzter Arglosigkeit. Außerdem könnte er sie immer noch jederzeit vor die Tür setzen, war ihm völlig egal ob sie nackt war oder sonst nirgends hinkonnte. "Hoffe der scheiß Nachbar geht aufs Klo und verpasst dir 'ne Eisdusche." Bellte er ihr hinterher. Klang amüsanter als es gemeint war aber irgendwohin musste er mit dem akuten Zorn und für einen dämlichen Spruch war er sich NIE zu schade. Der Tee half ein paar Minuten später mit dem Vorhaben sich zu beruhigen, zumindest bis sie wieder rauskam. Sie war ein wandelndes, rotes Tuch für ihn und konnte nichts sagen oder tun was ihn schwach machen würde, zumindest auf Gefühlsebene, dort machte er dicht. Es reichte, dass sie seine Aufmerksamkeit zurückgewann als sie sich wie in so einem schlechten Softporno auf seiner Küchenzeile niederließ und ihm damit sogar ein schiefes, unterdrücktes Grinsen halbwegs entlockte. "Die Platte hatte nen Sprung, hab ich verbrannt. Ich hör lieber die Grillen zirpen." Sarkasmus sprach er immer noch fließend, manches änderte sich nie. "Außerdem schmolle ich nicht." Das kam dagegen so überzeugend ernst rüber, dass man ihm fast glauben könnte. Als sie ihn mit dem Fuß anstupste verstand er das als Versuch ihrerseits ihn versöhnlich zu stimmen? Wenn er nicht so verdammt stolz wäre und zu recht angepisst mit ihr bis zum Sanktnimmerleinstag. "Wie kommst du überhaupt auf die Idee, ich könnte mir vor dir die Blöße geben?" Soweit kam er ihr entgegen, kein Stück weiter. Sie hatte ihn vermisst, wollte Nähe, alte Wunden aufreißen, um der guten, alten Zeiten willen? "Wenn du einen Nostalgiefick wünschst, sorg dafür. Als ob ich dir den Gefallen tue wie ein treudoofer Hund zwischen deine Beine zu kriechen, nur weil du mit den Fingern schnippst." {…}

"Ich sagte nicht, dass du einfach gehen kannst." Goss er nun Öl ins Feuer, zudem ließ er sich von niemandem auf der Nase herumtanzen, auch nicht von ihr. Gleichzeitig einer seiner wenigen Knackpunkte, er war nunmal der geborene Kontrollfreak und auf diese Weise erzielte man auch Wirkung bei ihm. Verflucht sei sie dafür bis in alle Ewigkeit, dass sie seine Schwäche so schamlos gegen ihn ausspielte. "Wenn du jetzt abhaust, brauchst du dich nie wieder bei mir blicken lassen." Da klang kein Sarkamus im Unterton durch, er hatte selten etwas so ernst gemeint. Er knallte die Tasse heftig auf die Küchenzeile zurück, brach dabei den Griff ab und verpasste ihr einen Crack. Er schnitt sich tief in die Handfläche als er das Porzellan zerquetschte als wäre es ein lächerlicher Pappbecher. Der dunkle Tee sickerte durch den Schlitz und bildete zusammen mit seinem Blut eine Pfütze um den Tassenboden, bevor alles im dünnen Strahl zu Boden lief. Wenn er sein feines, englisches Teegeschirr zerbrach und der Sache nichtmal groß Beachtung schenkte, war definitiv die Kacke am dampfen. "Ich war royally fucked off als du verschwunden bist letztes Jahr. Hätte nicht gedacht, dass mir jemand ein zweites Mal mit derselben Scheiße wehtut." So, er hats gesagt. "Erst recht nicht du. Zufrieden!? Holst du dir jetzt mental einen runter weil du mich so ficken konntest damit?" Sie hörte ihm besser genau zu, denn das wäre das einzige und letzte Mal, dass sie ungefiltert etwas über seine Gefühle erfuhr, deren Existenz er sowieso danach wieder abstreiten würde bis er eines Tages ins Gras biss.

[lottaham]

Good morning Lottafans

[littlesweetgoose]

New year new drawing and new exciting adventures ✨️

Just a small drawing with background and resolution this year is practice draw monsters! Hehe

[diedandwenttobobevans]

First Journal Entry 7/21/24

Hi. Hello. I'm so fucking bad at journals. I've been wanting to do this for a bit tho. It's going to be a big dumb thought dump. Don't really care about coherence, this is just a habit I really wanted to get into. Theres a part of me thats like, anxious? I'm dealing with some really bad self image issues right now. Lots of stuff going on in my life. I've been insanely insecure and self concious recently and so even just the idea of airing my greivances out publicly with the protection of anonymity is nerve wracking to me. Everything in life feels overwhleming and. just. AAAAAAAAAA

Here's the thing. I'm a sorry excuse for an adult. I'm 35, just got out of a mediocre and toxic 13+ year relationship with my ex back in April. It was a long, dragged out death to a unfulfilling existence that I held onto too long. Dear Jesus I just realized I'll be 36 in 3 weeks. Fuck. Ready to get off Mr. Bones ride already. I am she/her/they (oh hey, that they is new but dont want to dwell on it too much) bi- lesbian leaning mess of a human being. I don't have spawn thank god. That's not to say I dislike kids or anything, I just don't find I am a patient and responsibile enough person to care for one. I barely can take care of myself.

So mental disorders. I haven't been properly diagnosed. Gotta love the American Health Care system. But it's more so I don't do anything. I don't take care of myself in the very obvious ways and I am always prcrastinating and straight up avoiding difficult and stressing tasks that every other normal ass person can do. So I haven't bothered with getting health insurance. I don't have a traditional job that provides benefits. God, I sleep so much but everthing tires me. Even just writing this out is mentally exhausting. I don't know whats wrong with me. I think its ADHD, Depression, Anxiety, maybe something else. Autism? BPD? Maybe I'm just a hypochondriac. I don't know how people can function if they feel like I do. I barely want to get out of bed.

My brain is starting to fry and I'm struggling to sit and type these feelings out. Again, so overwhelmed. It feels like I have so much to dump here. But at the same time I don't know what I want to talk about? If its not obvious, I'm not a self actualized person. I'm struggling defineing myself and my goals and what I want out of life. I'm hoping journaling practices will help with that.

I hung out with my brother and two of his friends on Saturday. One is renting out his basement, hes a long time friend of my bro's wife. Great guy, but I kinda want him to move out so I can take over the basement. Hes been house hunting recently so it seems possible. The other friend is a woman I just met this year, not sure how long of a friend shes been with Bro but shes openly Pan, outgoing, smart, adorably nerdy. Fine as hell. An amazingly caring person. I, the absolute garbage bag I am, went to a party at the beguinning of the year and not knowing anyone there, drank fast and furious and went a little loud and first met Adorable Nerd (not knowing the extent of her nerdiness) while plastered, trauma dumped about my failing relationship. Claimed to "like her vibe" THEN GAVE HER ASS A SQUEEZE according to other party goers. I'm so ashamed. and cowardly to boot so the next 2 parties I seen her at I avoided her out of embaressment. The fact she still wants to talk and even has invited me out to future hangouts is insane. She loves DnD and wants to play so bad. Maybe she would want to go to Gen Con? Trying to enjoy roleplaying games and board games is kind of weird when theres a lot of history of my ex and those activities, but damn it, I like that stuff. I may of learned a lot from him about the subjects but that doesn't make me not interested anymore.

Anyway, AdoraNerd seems intent on trying to "help" me. Trying to get me out and about, talk about my feelings. It's been 3 months now since the break up. I guess I should leave the house. Is she into me, is this weird to ask. Why would she care. I told her she would do amazing in psychology

God this a jumbled mess of thoughts. I would love to get better at writing and organzing my brainworms. For now though I think I'll end it here and try to make this a daily practice.

I want to add what I'm listening to here as well. Remember on myspace and xanga and most people ended their blogs with "currently lsitening to/currently watching/ currently playings/currently eating ect" stuff? I want to continue the tradition. What would all the important stuff be? I also kind of want to get into a collages for my mood so I have some kind of creative outlet outside of work.

Listening: SUPERHEAVEN - I'VE BEEN BORED / LITHONIA - CHILDISH GAMBINO

Watching: THE TICK (1994)

[talesoffairies]

[rainbow-flavoured-skittles]

cheerfully taking the plot ideas from “Dear Diary” and putting them into currently unnamed Lilly centric fic :)

[shjayd]

recap; Ch. 3&4 of 635

jan. 3rd & 4th, 2023 was yesterday & the day before. it’s currently 4:14AM on jan. 5th - told you ‘4’ was mine. 🙋🏼‍♀️

~anywho*

jan. 5th… WHY does time fly the way it does anymore? istg it never did like this before.

think a/b it 💭 we’d have school from approx. 8AM - around 3PM, cheering practice until 4, barely ably to squeeze in my brother’s baseball games with my mom, then my strict, “let me see your homework and planner” everyday mom. God bless ✨her✨ - a living saint.

->BACK TO THE SUBJECT. MY ADHD IS SHOWING 😕

✨phone dies & i forget a/b you until after irrelevant activities occurred in the hours and darkness of the night 🙃🤓😇✨

“today” was a good day. got to see family & get a break from my little quack 😮‍💨 got to spend some quality time with my bestie, my moms. didn’t argue once, and if you know anything a/b our relationship, you’d be proud, too.

SRY. i started watching this new docuseries on netflix called ‘Kaleidoscope’

1.5.23/4:14

*thanks be to God that you give me the chance to restore my drafts, b/c He knows i’ma ✨need✨ that 🫠

we’re now living ch. 5/365. this is old now.

stay tuned, babies 🖤🫡

[cuteandhughesy]

When The Seasons Change | Luke Hughes

summary: each season comes and with each one, you're falling deeper in love with your best friend. 4 + 1

11.0+k

warnings: SFW!friends to lovers | slow burn | flirting | fluff | suggestive themes | kissing | read at your own discretion

link to masterlist

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september 9th, 2015

dear diary <3

it's y/n again and today i'm feeling a bit...funny. the day started absolutely amazing! it was my best friends luke 11th birthday party! I can't believe he's 11 and in two more months i'll also be 11.

anyways :) his party was a girl boy party and we all went to the arcade that luke and I have always wanted to go to together but we couldn't because of jack and quinn's hockey.

it was a really fun day and luke loved the sidney crosby shirt I picked for him. but the reason i'm feeling funny is because of lacey patterson. lacey is in our class and was invited to the arcade as well. I thought she had a crush on matthew but the whole time she wouldn't leave luke alone. she was always around like an annoying little fly. lacey kept taking all of luke's attention away from me.

i'm feeling jealous, diary. because luke is....special. his soft curly hair and his bright eyes and when he smiles I get ladybugs in my stomach. I love my best friend and now that lacey likes him I can't help but feel angry.

how and I suppose to grow up and marry luke if lacey is in the way???!!!

one: valentine's day

"it was a disaster," you sigh loudly, pushing your way into luke's apartment as he pulls open the threshold of the door. you toss your small pink bag on his counter top and slump into a bar stool, "I mean a breakfast date? I'm not even sure why I agreed to do that with him in the first place- I barely know the guy and breakfast certainly isn't the place to get to know him."

luke slowly makes his way over to you, still rubbing the sleep out of his eye with the palm of his hand. "I shouldn't say I told you so, but," he says sleepily, pausing to grab a bowl out of the kitchen cupboard, "I told you so."

you groan, dropping your head into your hands. "I really need to listen to you more," you admit, eyes flicking upwards as you watch luke pour himself a healthy sized amount of shreddies. you hate the cereal, you think it taste like dry wheat. luke has always loved shreddies though, so you always have some at the ready. plus, it's the only cereal luke's professional athlete diet allows.

he shrugs with a cheeky smirk.

"not only did he only talk about himself and refer to me as a 'female'," you air quote the condescending title and luke shudders between spoonfuls of cereal. you continue, "but he asked me how much money I make and spilt his orange juice on me - on valentine's day of all days. I swear i'm never spending valentine's day with a man again."

luke wipes the drip of milk off his mouth with the back of his hand, sending you a questioning look, "not even me?"

"you don't count, obviously, or I wouldn't be here." you raise your brows in his direction, as if if to say duh.

luke smirks again but shoves more cereal in his mouth to try and mask it. "right, okay, guys an asshole - so you ended the awkward valentines breakfast to head here at..." he trails off, eyes finding the digital clock on his and jack's shared stove for the first time that morning. "8:56 in the morning - jesus is this guy 80?"

"I wish," you huff, "an eighty year old would probably of kept his nose out of my bank account."

luke snickers, dropping his dirty bowl in the sink.

"do something with me today?" you plead, leaning across the counter top so you can poke his muscular side. "don't let my valentines makeup go to waste."

luke tiredly glances over to you, taking note of how there's a little pink glitter sprinkled across your eyelids and how your usual lip colour was replaced with a more pink toned shade. your smile all cheesy at him and it has luke breaking out of his thoughts - blinking hard.

"how does lunch and the movies sound?" he asks after a moment of pondering. "i'm sure there's some sappy romantic movie playing."

you scoff at his tone, "hey! I love those sappy romantic movies."

"I know," he hums, leaning against the counter infront of you. "that's why I suggested it."

you place your head in your palm, looking up at your best friend fondly as he practically leans over you. "you're the best lukey," you say after a moment, a gentle smile on your face.

he shrugs and the action has his sleep shirt lifting to reveal his toned v-line and happy trail. you don't let your eyes linger, quickly darting your vision away before you turn red.

luke's expression changes briefly, and it looks like he may say something but the sound of jacks bedroom door clicking open has him stopping - eyes darting to the hallway just as his brother shuffles out.

jacks eyes find yours as you sit comfortably in his bar stool. he admits a big yawn and wide stretch before mumbling - "I should've known it was you making all this noise."

he rounds into the kitchen, flicking on the kettle to boil himself some water for his beloved morning coffee.

"ha ha," you say sarcastically.

"why the fuck does it smell like orange juice in here." jack mumbles.

"oh god," you cry out, grabbing your bag and sliding off the stool. now that luke's eyes are properly open and he's aware of his conscious, he sees how your white jeans have an orange liquid stain on the leg. luke smiles fondly as your cheeks tinge pink, brushing past him and his brother and towards the front door, "i'm going home and changing!"

luke laughs gently, following behind you. "i'll text you when i'm leaving here."

"sounds great," you breath out, a smile making its way onto your face. "wear pink," you tease him, shimming your shoulder in his direction.

"happy valentine's day," jack calls out from the kitchen. you catch sight of him shuffling his way past the door and back down the hall, a steaming mug in his hands.

you meet luke's eyes again and hes still looking at you, leaning against the door in his morning glory - plaid pyjama pants hanging low and his arms crossed to make all his muscles stretch deliciously. "happy valentine's day," luke mimics his brother in a fond whisper.

"happy valentine's day," you repeat. "i'll see you later."

"you will." luke says.

when you get back to your apartment complex, marianne, the front desk receptionist, flags you over before you can reach the elevator - her bright red lipstick and heart bobble head band instantly making you smile.

"you have a delivery," she says, pushing a massive vase full of red roses in your direction.

you're momentarily in a state of shock, staring at the bouquet of flowers dumbfounded. "are you sure they're for me?" you splutter after a moment.

marianne nods joyfully, a finger running over one of the delicate pedals. "oh yes, honey! delivery man dropped them off real early this morning."

you pluck the crisp white card from its slot, quickly opening the small envelope with slightly shaky fingers - anxiously wanting to reveal the mystery behind the roses.

just incase your breakfast date doesn't get you flowers. I hope you get all the ladybugs in your stomach today, y/n/n. happy valentine's day.

love, lukey.

two: easter

"you two seriously need to quit this," quinn's voice is a mix of bordem and amusement, eyeing you and luke. "it's every year." quinn concludes, jack nodding in silent agreement as he bites into a chocolate egg.

"quit and willingly loose to luke?" you thumb over your shoulder to the tallest hughes brother - who is standing diagonally behind you with his arms crossed. "absolutely not."

jack tries to hit you with a chocolate egg, but it misses your body - you send him an accusing glare before quinn starts again.

"guys, seriously it's just an egg hunt." he deadpans, eyes dancing between his brother and you.

"it's not just an egg hunt," luke says matter of factly. his arms fall to his sides and he steps closer to you, the fabric of his flannel brushing your exposed shoulder. "it's one of the only times I get to prove to everyone I am the superior egg finder."

competitively, you roll your eyes. luke has been using that line since one of the very first easters you had spent together.

when you were 5 years old, your family moved to your now home city and into the two story house neighbouring the hughes' home. it was almost instantly that you and luke become close - after he got over how'd you'd aimlessly follow him around and want to be near him (you liked the leafs just like him so he liked you soon after).

your parents become very close with ellen and jim and it become a tradition to spend easter together - enjoying the festive meal and activities. even now with quinn in a different country and you, jack and luke all in jersey, you would all find yourself making it home for the easter dinner and egg hunt.

which leads you into your second ever holiday spent with the hughes family - the first egg hunt you had won. luke claimed to his family after they had teased him that he let you win and was, in fact, the superior egg hunter. obviously, you couldn't let that slide and you're still battling luke in your early twenties for the title of egg hunt champion.

"you wish," you tease luke, "a superior egg hunter would of brought proper footwear to ensure they could get down and dirty." slowly, your eyes flicker to luke's feet, eyeing the crisp white air forces that were bound to get filthy.

luke scoffs, taking a step towards you. "oh trust me - i'm ready to get dirty."

"is this how kids flirt now?" jacks voice is like a nail to your eardrum and you quickly take a step away from luke, making your way to the island and grabbing your bunny shaped bucket.

"it's called smack talk," luke answers his brother sharply, also grabbing his egg basket - a bright yellow whicker bin with fuzzy chicks hot glued to the handle: he's been using it forever. "this is a competition."

"it's really not," quinn mutters, hands shoved in his jean pockets as he leans into the kitchen island.

just before you or luke could scold the eldest hughes, ellen makes her way through the back door, her pink floral maxi skirt swaying around her ankles. "you guys coming out?" she questions you all, her brows raised expectantly. "all the young kids are ready."

"oh," luke snickers, "i'm ready."

"we are all ready," you correct, eyeing your best friend briefly.

she smiles fondly, her small hands clasping together - ellen hughes would never get tired of seeing you and all her boys together on the holidays. "the eggs are all hidden - don't forget the winner gets the chocolate bunny!" she sing songs, guiding you all to the large backyard decorated in pastels and flowers.

"see," luke hums, jamming his elbow into his oldest brothers side, "told you it was a competition."

"oh my god."

after a brief speech from ellen, you were informed the oldest kids (you, luke, jack and quinn) would be searching for the blue coloured eggs and the younger kids (consisting mostly of hughes' cousins) would be searching for yellow eggs. the yellow eggs were hidden in easier spots but jim and your dad had ensured the blue eggs were in more difficult places.

10 minutes into the hunt, you've secured 6 of the possible 17 blue easter eggs. you wander further down the large property, eyes frantically searching for more to add to your collection. it isn't long before you catch a glimpse of bright blue - the small egg nestled between a few branches up in one of the trees. you're suprised you could even see it through the leaves, but the sun catches the egg once more and you're positive you're not imagining it.

with a determined head, you place your bucket on the ground near the stump of the tree before grabbing ahold of the lowest branch. you use all your strength to start hauling yourself up the tree, climbing upwards through the leaves and branches.

finally, you reach the height of the easter egg, and you smile victoriously, reaching out to grab it. at your sudden movement, the branch you had been standing on with your one foot gives out, cracking loudly until it snaps downwards. you gasp, hands reaching out to wrap around the thick trunk, watching horrified as your previous spot swings in the air.

you scan the surrounding branches, looking for the most secure one for your full weight - one that wouldn't break off under your feet. there's one behind you that looks promising, so you shift against the trunk, carefully stepping across the gap in the branches until you can fully place your feet on the new one.

you sigh once you feel secure, taking a deep breath to try and let the erratic heart beating in your chest come back to normal. miraculously through your almost plummet back to the ground, you managed to keep ahold of your egg and your gripping that damn blue thing hard, ensuring after all that trouble it wasn't going anywhere.

once your adrenaline levels return to a much more manageable level and the thumping heartbeat in your eardrums subsides, you decide you're ready to start making your journey to the ground - as safe as possible.

you let your one foot steps off, pressing down on a different branch to test its sturdiness. it seems stable enough, and you push off the trunk behind you to help push yourself onto the other branch.

your dress tugs, not allowing you to move over. you frown in confusion, trying to pull away harder. it's no luck, and your eyes close in disbelief. you try and uncomfortably stretch around yourself to catch sight of what the hell was going on and you catch a glimpse of of a sharp broken twig, completely hooked through your dress.

and of course you've left your phone behind on the kitchen island when you decided you'd have to use for it during the egg hunt. you course yourself, making another attempt at wiggling yourself off the ridged twig. it proves to be unsuccessful when you try and move onto the other branch once again and find yourself still being pulled back towards the trunk.

just as you begin to feel waves on panic bubble up your body and tears well up in your eyes, the sound of shuffling below halts your meltdown. you listen more intently, and the melodies of an all too familiar hushed whistle adding to the noise.

luke is wandering around aimlessly, whistling the megan moroney song you had showed him the week prior - clearly he has taken a liking to it as well. he's got his easter basket in his hand, swinging it slightly so his collected eggs roll around.

he is practically right under the tree you're in, and you take the opportunity before it leaves. "luke!" you call your friends name, your voice a mixture between a whisper and a yell - not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to your very uncomfortable and embarrassing position, luke would surely tease you enough to make up for everyone.

luke's whistling comes to a halt, his body coming to a stand still near the large roots of the tree that were protruding from the soil. he spins around a couple times, looking for you.

a beat passes.

"where are you?" luke questions quietly, doing another 360 of the area. he knows you can't be too far because you sounded close, but not directly beside him. his brows furrow when he can't see anything.

"in the tree - i'm stuck." you huff, eyes closing as the rush of embarrassment comes after admitting your predicament out loud. luke still looks confused and unsure, so you sigh, rustling one of the nearby branches to show him that you were in fact in a tree and not hiding in a nearby bush - planning to ambush him for his eggs.

finally luke catches on, looking up towards the thick branches wide eyed and confused. once he catches sight of you, his previous expression morphes into one of mischief and his lips tug upwards in a gooey smile. "oh! don't you look all cute up there."

you ignore his teasing with a dismissive eye roll, "come up here and help me untangle myself from this damn branch."

luke's eyes wander towards the trunk of the tree, landing on your easter basket that you'd previously abandoned in favour of climbing - your blue eggs starting at him in all their glory. luke hums, slowly looking back towards you - his eyes shimmering with a misbehaved twinkle you're all too familiar with. "nah, I think i'll just take some of these eggs and be on my way."

"lukeeeeee," you whine his name, eyes closing in annoyance- luke could really push your buttons when he wanted to.

your hands are starting to hurt from the bark under you palm, and your ridged posture from being caught by the tree is becoming uncomfortable. "come help meeeee," you whine again, "is this how you're going to treat your best friend?"

when you began to speak, luke has already put down his own easter basket, nestling it beside yours wiped his hands free of any sweat and made his way towards the tree, large fingers wrapping around the first branch as he pulls himself up. "relax, i'm coming."

you watch as he quickly climbs up the tree, resembling a spider monkey as his long limbs wrap around branches and you smile to yourself at the thought of luke as a monkey.

suddenly, you begin to feel embarrassed about your situation. you feel even sillier for getting yourself stuck on a branch, something taht could've been avoidable if you weren't so damn stubborn about a stupid egg hunt. your previous smile of relief turns sour, eyes downcast as luke finally gets to your level.

your face has luke mimicking your frown, brows drawn together as he addresses you. he reaches out for you, running a large hand over your curled hair. "hey, don't worry - you're okay."

you muster one nod in acknowledgment, taking a shaky breath.

"let's see," luke mutters between you, leaning into your personal space to attempt in getting a proper look at the damage - one of his arms wrapping around your body for stability as he peeks over your shoulder. "easy peasy," luke adjusts his body slightly, his chest brushing your bare shoulder as he fiddles with the material of your dress.

you fight off a pleasant shiver, controlling your breathing as his long fingers brush against your soft skin, tickling you in the best way. finally, you feel your dress become loose and fall back into its proper position.

you breathe in relief, your smile returning.

"ta da," luke pulls back, his own smile lighting up his face as he hovers over you. now that you're less stressed, you notice how intimate your and luke's position is. his feet's are slotted between yours in the thick branch, his one arm still around your body while his other one moves to wrap around the trunk, holding you both there - his breath fanning over your face.

"you're welcome." he teases you, snapping you out of your own head.

"thank you." you hum nonchalantly, one of your hands coming up and fixing your hair and be ridding of any stray leaves or baby twigs that may of found their way in there.

"what's my reward?" luke questions gently, head tilted as his tongues slowly darts out, licking his bottom lip.

the air turns thick with a sticky tension, making your spot in the tree feel like it suddenly was located on the sun. quickly, your eyes widen, watching the way luke begins to smirk at your flustered face.

you clear your throat, choosing to not read into any underlying meaning. "one of my easter eggs." you answer firmly, a gentle nod of confidence following suit.

he tongues his cheek. "just one?"

you nod once again, a noise of conformation falling from your lips.

luke hums, eyes not leaving yours as he says - "guess i'll just take more."

because you know your best friend all too well,before he can even attempt to descend back towards the ground, you push of the branch, quickly moving around him and scaling down the trunk. you're suprised at how quick you get to the ground and even more suprised you don't hurt yourself in the process.

just as you grab ahold the fuzzy purple bunny easter basket off the ground, you hear luke thump back onto the grass, a gentle laugh of disbelief falling from his mouth.

you turn on your heels to face him, your basket gripped in your hand as you swing it teasingly out towards him - a victorious and teasing smile on your face.

he kisses his teeth and his eyes dart towards the ground to mask his amused grin. he grabs his own easter basket before making the short distance to you.

"like promised," you say, plucking one of the shiny blue eggs from your basket. "your reward." delicately, you place the egg into luke's basket, adding to his collection of five.

almost immediately, luke grabs the egg you just gave him, placing it back into your basket. "no it's okay," he says quickly, hand raised defensively when you begin to furrow your brows. luke continues, "after all, when I win, I want it to be fair and square."

"my god," you roll your eyes fondly, the corners of your lips tugging up in a smile. "whatever helps you sleep lukey."

"I see another one!" jack yells somewhere on the property - quinn's voice following suit as he threatens to fight jack over an easter egg.

simultaneously, your and luke's eyes widen at what you're hearing.

"what's over there?" luke questions, brows furrowed as he points behind you.

you frown in confusion, spinning around to try and spots the object of luke's gaze.

he takes off, calling out some stupid insult about you being a sloth as he does. your scoff of disbelief turns into a laugh, and you begin to run.

you don't remember finding the last egg that was sitting in your basket when ellen counted all of them out - but seeing as you had the most blue eggs out of everyone, you weren't going to complain, taking your chocolate bunny prize happily.

luke watches you light up with joy when you are declared the winner for another year in a row. he finds himself smiling along, happy that when he handed you the egg back you had given him as a reward, he managed to slip one of his own back in with it- just like he does every year.

three: 4th of july

you knew that having another vodka water, adding to your borderline drunk state, wasn't the smartest idea - but you cracked open the can regardless, the sound echoing over the michigan lake.

you take a hearty sip to mask the scowl on your face. lacey laughs loudly, and your annoyance grows because yes it was the same lacey from luke's birthday party all those years ago and yes, unfortunately she was close to some of your other friends so yes she'd often hang out with the group.

this 4th of july weekend was no exception as you watch lacey continue to hang around luke and jack - your jealousy meter maxing out anytime she would lean into luke or touch his arm.

you take another sip, some of the liquid dribbling down you lip after quinn drives over one of the waves, sending trevor zegras into the air as he wakeboards behind you. quickly and rather aggressively, you wipe the spilled alcohol off your chin, eyes still pointedly glaring towards your best friend, his brother and lacey.

as if he can sense your staring, luke turns his head in your direction, quickly finding you on the bench seat. you're sitting with your back turned to wards the water and jacob truscott - who's job is attentively watching trevor as he wakeboards.

luke's initial smile with seeing you is wiped away once he sees that you're annoyed, your clear sour face making him frown. quickly, you turn your head in the opposite direction.

and because drunk you has no self control, you quickly look back in luke's direction, not lasting 5 seconds. luke is still watching you, his brows pulled together in question. just when it looks like he is going to make his way over to you, lacey grabs his wrist, lighting up as she animatedly begins to tell a story that 'he just had to hear!'

you start to become angry. not only were you feeling frustrated because lacey was not your cup of tea and jack invited her to your 4th of july celebration regardless of your feelings, but you were even more upset by the fact that luke was allowing himself to be so easily entertained by her. luke had always treated lacey normally, even though you often expressed how you weren't her biggest fan - which was okay, of course. you didn't want luke to treat her differently just because you didn't like her, but still - it had you feeling jealous.

you take a huffy breath, getting up from your seated position as careful and as stable as you could while being drunk on a moving boat. obviously, it wasn't your best or most successful idea, quinn jerking the boat for trevor's boarding quickly and it has you stumbling - right into the back of jacob.

he turns around quickly, his eyes blown wide as he takes you in. "hey, y/n, you okay?"

and just like that your brain comes up with a plan. one that though you may regret in the morning when you're sober, in your drunkenness sounds perfect - you've never thought of a better idea in your life. you smile at jacob, fluttering your lashes at him. "can I sit and watch with you?"

jacob watches as you bite you lip in question while you await his answer, eyeing him with a hazy look over your bright eyes.

he chuckles slightly, "course you can."

you smile cheerfully and you quickly start to make the small step up onto the seat platform, your small hand gripping jacob's strong shoulder to help balance yourself until you gracefully plop down beside him. as flirtatious as you can manage while being intoxicated, you run your hand from his shoulder down his arm, trying to tickle him.

jacob eyes you suspiciously, a small amused smile beginning to tug his lips upwards. you smile back, bringing your hand into your lap. "what are you up to?" jacob questions after a moment. he doesn't wait for an answer before he turns his head to look over his shoulder - right at luke.

"nothing!" you hum, laying your palm flat on his cheek and bringing his gaze back towards you.

jacob gives you a look, brows raised knowingly. he has to tongue his cheek to not laugh, your plan of trying to make luke jealous obvious. clearly you're not as inconspicuous as you thought.

you shrug once, leaning in even closer to jacob. "just wanted to sit with you is all."

he just nods, shrugging nonchalantly "whatever you say." jacob's eyes leave yours, attention back on trevor on the wakeboard. clearly jacob doesn't mind helping you out, he even lets his hand slide behind you, resting flat on the seat right near your ass - he doesn't even seem flustered at the how if he stretched his pinky out he'd be touching your butt - that kind of makes you feel at ease.

after flirting and laughing with jacob for 10 minutes, trevor's time on the wake board comes to an end, quinn slowing down the boat. in that 10 minutes you'd only managed to get in a glance towards luke three times (jacob kept you pretty entertained oddly enough), and everytime luke was wearing a neutral expression - his arms crossed and listening to lacey.

trevor removes himself from to board, breathless as he climbs onto the swim platform."did you guys see me hit that last wave?" he smiles, unzipping the life jacket wrapped around his torso.

"it was sick," ethan edwards comes up beside you, leaning on his elbows right beside your thighs to talk to trevor - drunk you honestly forget he was here. "fuck man way cooler than any waves I got - quinn must have his favourites." ethan continues, playfully side eyeing the oldest hughes brother as he makes his way over to the back of the boat.

"ha ha," quinn says sarcastically, grabbing onto the rope of the wake board paddle and pulling it towards the boat. "if I actually had favourites, trevor wouldn't be one of them."

trevor cries out and grabs his peck like quinn's words had actually reached out and stabbed him, "ouch."

quinn ignores trevor, rolling his eyes dismissively - although his lips move upwards in a small smile. "alright," he breaths, finally getting the wakeboard onto the swim platform, " who wants to go next."

looking back over your shoulder once more, you see that luke still isn't bothered enough in coming over to you - listening to some story lacey was blabbing on about to jack and dylan duke.

you hum, shooting up off the bench. you wobble slightly, ethan grabbing your ankle reflexively to try and steady you. you smile triumphantly, "i'll go." you make your way over to quinn, taking the protective life jacket from trevor's outstretched hand.

quinn looks you up and down, eyes hesitant. "you sure?"

you nod without looking at him, stepping into the boots of the board. if flirting with luke's friend wasn't working in getting his attention, hanging off the back of the boat as you zip through the water surely had to.

you clip the buckles down, the sound snapping against the boots. quinn bends down in attempt to help you get secure, but you dismiss him, dropping off of the swimming platform and into the water.

"y/n..." quinn starts, his eyes filled with doubt.

"i'm good." you take the ropes right out of quinn's hands, wrapping them once around your wrist. "let's do it."

he sighs but doesn't protest any further, leaving you alone. quinn walks off the platform, making his way back to the driver's seat.

the engine starts a few moments later, the roar making you smile slightly - adjusting the slippy rope handles as you prepare to start.

"fuck yeah, y/n!" jack calls, hands bracketed around his mouth as he cheers for you, his voice echoing over the lake.

after getting your thumbs up, quinn starts to drive, the movement of the motor vehicle slowly dragging your body towards the surface, gaining speed until the wakeboard comes to the top. jacob slaps the bench seat a few times in a cheer, him and ethan both praising and cheering you on back on the boat. your smile widens at the boys and luke's brows furrow.

the boat is going the proper speed now, and quinn starts to do circles around himself to create the desired waves - you swallow nervously as you see the first one approaching. you can feel your hands loosen on the rope again , and naturally your fingers unhook themselves in order for them to readjust. the wave hits sooner than anticipated, and you first jolt forwards quickly before being flung backwards, your feet coming out of the boots as you get launched into the water.

you push up to the surface with your shaky arms, a gasping breath leaving your lips as you take in the air.

the boat has been stopped, and there's a group of worried faces staring at you from about 10 feet away. you definitely shouldn't of dismissed quinn when he wanted to check over your buckles, and you definitely shouldn't of let your guard down when trying to re-grip the rope.

you start to leisurely swim back towards the boat, feeling much more calm now that you’re not being panicked underwater. “i’m good!” you laugh it off, approaching the platform.

jack is waiting for you, his hand outstretched in your direction. you grip it, your wet palm slapping against his calloused one as he pulls you out of the water. he says your name through a smile, “that was badass."

then you notice how luke’s there as well, looking much more stressed than his brother - eyes frantically searching you for any visible injuries. "are you okay?" he breaths.

"yes," you sigh firmly. jack finally lets you go, allowing you to stand yourself up on your own feet. as you place your left foot down fat, your ankle screams in protest and gives out on you - making you topple forwards with a yelp. "fuck."

instantly, luke is there, rushing towards you and grabbing a hold of your arms. he keeps you upright, leaning down so he can look into your eyes. “what hurts?”

"my ankle," you whine quietly, eyes moving down in embarrassment. not only were you drunk, but you were now hurt and in enough pain for your intoxication to not even be able to mask it. "it really hurts lukey." you whisper, your throat becoming thick with emotion.

"okay, okay," luke wraps an arm around your waist, putting all of your weight onto him as he helps you off of the swimming platform and onto the carpeted area of the boat. you wince quietly in the short time it takes to get to the front of the boat - away from prying eyes that would only have you feeling even more embarrassed.

"sit down." luke tells you sternly, helping in lowering you to the seat. tears are desperately wanting to escape, the entire day of events weighing heavy on your chest.

luke turns away from you, reaching into the blue drink cooler - digging through the ice and cans of seltzers until he finds a plastic water bottle. he grabs it, walking back towards you with an unreadable expression, sitting across from you.

"i'm cold." you say as soon as luke sits down. you can’t decide if you’re cold because your wet and the sun is starting to set or if it’s because luke’s knees keep brushing yours, igniting goosebumps.

your emotions come to a head, and a tear finally falls, trailing down the round of your sunkissed cheek.

"let's take off the lifejacket, okay?" he reaches towards you, unzipping the wet jacket. your boobs definitely spill out of your bikini top in a way that is probably unflattering, no longer pushed against you by the life jacket. “give it back incase somebody else wants a turn.” luke grabs dylan dukes abandoned towel, wrapping the fluffy cover around your shoulders.

his teasing gives right over your head.

"okay," luke sighs quietly, tapping his two fingers against your thigh."let me see your ankle, put it on my leg."

you do as he says, bringing your leg up and over so you can comfortably have your knee bent and foot laying flat on luke's muscular thigh - his leg hairs tickling your painted toes.

softly, luke uses the water bottle he'd earlier grabbed as a temporary ice pack, pressing it to your ankle bone. the coolness feels nice, and it already is helping the pain.

your mood turns even more unpleasant when you her lacey's high pitched laugh echo around you - assaulting your water logged ear drums. you keep your eyes downcast, fingers wordlessly fiddling with a loose strand on the beach towel.

you sniffle, "wouldn't you rather be with lacey?" your jealously is definitely showing, but you're too irritated with the days events to be civil. lacey, combined with hurting your ankle and having luke practically ignoring you all day has your filter disappearing.

one of luke's long fingers slowly starts running along the back of your calf. "nah." he says gently. you can feel his eyes on you, but you're still not sure if you can handle looking into his eyes in the state your in.

your brows raise in suprise, and your disbelief is still prevalent in your tone. "really? she sure gives you a lot of attention."

luke shrugs once. "you're hurt. you take priority."

his answer has you scoffing slightly, and you tug harder on the loose towel thread. "only because i'm hurt?" finally, you look back towards him, eyes pinched with irritation at his answer.

in all seriousness, luke looks at you. his lips almost tug down in a frown, and his eyes begin to soften at your red cheeks and glazed eyes. "no. you always are my priority."

now you feel embarrassed. although lacey is more outgoing and flirty than you are, you are luke's best friend - not her. quickly, your hand comes up to wipe away any fallen tears, "sorry." you mumble.

luke dismisses your apology, tapping your heel twice around the cold water bottle he was still pressing against you. he eyes your somber expression again, and kisses his teeth.

your eye him as he scoots closer towards you. "can I tell you something?"

you nod, naturally finding yourself leaning in as well.

luke's lips begin to turn upwards. "watching you flirt and spend time with jacob today...It made me feel kind of jealous."

you feel your heart come to a hard stop and then speed up again - beating frantically at luke's confession. you're sure your mouth is opening and closing like a fish, but you're too baffled to say anything.

he continues quietly, "because, you know, he was taking my best friends attention away from me."

you deflate.

luke shrugs, "and I know that's hypocritical because I was kind of being a dick today but still...jacob doesn't deserve your attention - neither do I honestly but-"

you shake your head, bumping the leg that wasn't resting on his thigh against luke's knee, stopping his rambling. he's still your luke, no matter what. he's awkward and sweet and....yours.

"you're the only one I really want to give my attention to, lukey."

he smiles gently, "really?"

"yeah - i'm drunk," you remind him, "I can't lie even if I want to." you both laugh at your half slurred confession, leaning into each other as you do so.

as quinn pulls the boat back towards the dock of the hughes summer house, you can't even remember why you'd been annoyed with luke in the first place - too focused on him nursing your ankle and his soft smile.

four: fall festivities

"jello shot?" you ask through an exhale, a bright smile on your face. you gesture the small serving tray full of colourful desert towards the two girls in front of you. thankfully, they smile back, happily taking the alcohol from you.

you nod in parting before picking up your pace once more, gripping the tray harder as you practically jog around your condo - determined to serve everybody.

when luke had mentioned jack offered to host the annual new jersey devils halloween party, he told you that him and his brother were worried about the limited space in their apartment and were unsure of how they were going to make it work. seeing your best friend in a predicament had you immediately offering your place to throw it.

not only was your space bigger, but your only neighbour was a wealthy businessman who was never home, so there would be no noise complaints and no issues with fitting the devils roster in for a halloween themed party. obviously your offer had nothing to do with being totally into your best friend and going to any extreme to see him happy - obviously.

there was a few more people attending than you were initially expecting to show up - which mostly consist of the wives and girlfriends of the team, but still, you hadn't factored that in. the added people had your hosting skills dialled up to an 11, and you can't remember the last time you had sat down or properly mingled with anybody - too busy making sure everything was stocked.

you squeeze through a group of laughing girls you don't recognize, and you whisper your apologies as you move through them. "jell-o shot?" you question, approaching dougie, dawson and john near the fireplace.

"oh hey," john greets you, dressed like a minion. "you look like you're having a great time." john laughs and they all reach out to take a halloween coloured shot cup off your tray.

"I am if you are," you smile politely, his teasing remark flying over your head - you're too tired and stressed to digest his words properly.

you're definitely not having a great time. your hand is cramping around the orange and purple striped serving tray, your fake eyelashes are stabbing you, your legs are killing you, and don't even start on how your faux fur coat has you sweating profusely.

"cruella, right?" dawson is the one to question you, gesturing to your halloween costume - a simple black dress paired with a spotted coat, red gloves, pearls and the wig of course.

you nod, "in the flesh."

"y/n!" you hear jack call your name loudly from the opposite end of your condo, his hands clasped around his mouth as he shouts for you. "we need more punch."

you sigh gently, throwing your hand in the air blindly to give the middle hughes a thumbs up - a conformation that you heard him and you'd make another bowl.

"sorry, would you guys excuse me - duty calls." you manage to give a laugh towards the three devil players, all dressed in contradicting costumes, spinning on your heels and speed walking away.

you push through the swinging door that leads to your kitchen, half empty tray of jell-o shots and the glass punch bowl you grabbed on the way balanced in your hands. thankfully nobody was in your kitchen, and the sight of emptiness has you breathing in relief.

you loved having everyone at your place and you especially loved how everyone felt comfortable in dressing up and allowing you, jack and luke to host - but you couldn't wait for the night to be over. you always underestimated the hassle of hosting, and this night is proving that.

you fan your warm face with a gloved hand, trying to cool yourself off. your free hand is pouring some koolaid mix into the empty punch bowl, the powered crystals becoming liquid as they touch the orange juice and sprite concoction.

the door creaks, alerting you as somebody enters your once quiet kitchen. your shoulders deflate naturally, and your already preparing for another task or hosting duty that you'd have to attend to.

you look over your shoulder and are met with the comforting gaze of your best friend. luke smiles softly at you, which makes him look extra cute in his dalmatian outfit. "hey," luke starts, making his way over you, "I haven't seen you all night. you okay?"

the relief floods through your body, but a different wave of emotion quickly replaces any prior ones. you feel yourself wanting to cry, because no, you're not doing okay. "i'm stressed, lukey, i'm sorry. I love hosting but my costume is so hot that i feel permanently wet from how much i've been sweating. my body hurts and i'm tired and I feel like the list of things I need to do is endless and-" you exhale, dropping the wooden mixing spoon to the counter. "respectfully I can't wait for it to end."

luke frowns, reaching you in two long strides. "don't apologize for feeling overwhelmed." he shrugs, glancing over his shoulder quickly, "it's definitely more people than I expected."

you sniffle, laughing gently as you nod in agreement. "definitely."

he smiles softly, and like he's done a million times before, luke gently reaches out, his thumb swiping under your eye to brush any fallen tears. "let's head up to the roof for a bit," he hums, a slight frown tugging his lips, "get some air."

you exhale shakily. "jack needs the punch though."

"fuck him and fuck the punch," luke tells you sternly, "they can survive without it for a little bit, okay?"

"okay," you whisper in agreement.

you live on the top floor of your condo, so the journey to the buildings rooftop wasn't long. luke leads you up the small flight of stairs and out onto the decorated deck like he's done many times, guiding you over to your and his claimed spot.

immediately, you fall back dramatically into the lounger, eyes meeting the starry night sky above. you can feel like you can breath properly, and the only noise you can hear is the city below.

luke smiles at your now closed eyes and starfish pose, making his way over to his favourite green lounger beside you, mimicking your laying down position. he tucks his arm behind his head, using his own forearm as a pillow as he looks at the stars.

a beat passes.

"i'm sorry you're stressed." luke tells you quietly.

you open your eyes, turning your head towards him. luke is already watching you, eyes guilty and frown present.

you shake your head at him, dismissing his apology. after all, he didn't do anything wrong. "it's fine, luke, really."

"I just don't like seeing you struggling," he admits.

"if anything," you start sincerely, "you've made my night 100 times better in like the 5 minutes i've spent with you - which by the way, is crazy, how is this the first time since you got here that we've hung out."

"I know," luke smiles, "i've missed you."

you eye him teasingly, a pout forming on your face. "did my little dalmatian miss his master?" you question in an animated baby voice, one of your hands reaching out to poke his ribs.

luke jolts away from your jab, pulling a disgusted face in favour of your baby voice. regardless of his expression, he was laughing at your question. "you're a weirdo."

"yeah but i'm your favourite weirdo," you say matter of factly, turning your entire body towards him on top of your blue coloured lounger.

luke smirks, "you're definitely top 10."

"top 10?" you screech with a laugh, "not even top 5....I really gotta up my game. who's my competition?"

luke kisses his teeth, in a deep faux thought as he hums. "well, obviously borat is up there."

"obviously," you repeat.

"and my friend y/n is up there too - she's the weirdest one of all." luke sends you another teasing glance, "instead of being normal and saying 'butterflies in my stomach', she calls them ladybirds like a grandma and she eats ranch with almost everything."

you smile, "she sounds hot."

luke tongues his cheek, eyes finding the stars again. another beat passes, the two of you enjoying each others company in silence of city nightlife.

the crinkling of a bag has your brows furrowing, glancing back at luke just as he pulls out a half empty bag of cheeto's. "hungry?" he asks you, holding out the open bag in your direction.

you grab a handful of cheesy sticks, "I didn't even know your onesie had pockets." you tell him with a snicker, plopping two cheetos into your mouth.

"this dalmatian is full of surprises," luke says between chews of the monster handful of chips he'd previously shoved in his mouth.

you snort, grabbing another handful. "of course he is." you're thankful that luke had miraculously snuck cheetos from the party out to the roof, because you think the last time you ate was breakfast. your stomach rumbles at the thought. you swear, your best friend knows you better than you know yourself. "I should've known you'd bring snacks."

luke eyes you with faux suspicion, sucking his thumb clean of cheese dust. "are you calling me fat?"

"luke," you laugh, head lolling away from him and his teasing comments. "you're insufferable."

a heavy drop of water hits your face, starling you. another one follows quickly after, hitting the round of your cheek before sliding down to your ear.

"what the hell," luke mumbles. you eye him quickly, watching as he wipes the few drops of rain off his face. "is that rain?"

you roll your eyes gently, "yes, luke, it's rain."

at your words, the water seems to unleash from the gray night clouds, a thick downfall of rain pouring over you and luke. you sit up quickly, squinting towards the sky. your faux fur coat is quickly becoming drenched, sticking to your skin uncomfortably. "let's go before my lashes fall off." you sigh gently - the thought of heading back into the hectic environment of your condo sounded anything but desirable.

as if luke can sense your hesitation, he gets to his feet quickly, stepping into your line of sight. the dog ears on his onesie are dripping with water, flopping pathetically as he looks at you. he wipes his face of rain, "not yet - let's just stay."

you sigh his name, "it's raining."

"so?" he shrugs, costume sagging down his body, heavy with rain.

"so," you breathe an amused laugh, "we will get wet."

"nothing wrong with a little bit of water," you can see luke smirk through the heavy rain, and you can't help your own lips from tugging upwards at the sight.

you exhale gently, "I don't know."

luke dismisses your hesitation, grabbing a hold of your soaked gloved hands and pulling you towards him, bringing you both farther out the roof deck. "just one dance before we go back to the party - I haven't gotten to dance with you allllll night."

you let him drag you wordlessly, giving him a deadpanned looked.

"plus you deserve a dance - my hard working host." luke adds cheekily. his one hand slides around your waist, pulling you against his front - swaying you to imaginary music gently.

"kiss ass," you mumble, voice just notable over the sound of rain pelting the concrete rooftop. you can feel luke's chest rumble with laughter, his fingers flexing around your hand. "you always dance without music hughes?"

he licks his teeth, looking down at you. your skin looks so soft and dewy from the rain, your eyes dilated from the dark atmosphere. you are blinking up at him gently, your eyelashes wet in a way that makes you look even more beautiful. luke clears his throat, spinning you around dramatically - just barley stopping himself from slipping on the slick ground in the process. "only with you."

luke pulls away from you quickly, but you don't have time to question him before his grip on your hand tightens and he's twirling you back into him. you screech gently, the movement taking you by surprise.

"so you only dance with me or you dance with others but they get the privilege of dancing with music?" you ask him teasingly - this time it's you who is twirling luke around, and the sight of your 6ft2 best friend spinning in a soaked dalmatian onesie was unbeatable.

luke comes back towards you, taking his original position with his strong forearm around your torso, interlocking your fingers together in a waltz like stance. "I only dance with you," he whispers through the rain, "and you're the only one i'll ever dance with - especially in the cold rain without music." he tries to tease you, but his words fall on deaf ears.

you're looking at him with a swirl of emotion in your eyes and your heart beating heavily against your rib cage.

luke seems to stop as well, looking down at you with just as much admiration and tenderness that you're surely showing him. he visibly swallows, his adam's apple bobbing against his throat.

you watch luke's eyes fall to your lips, swiping over them before finding your eyes once again. at first you think you imagine it, but then quickly his eyes dart back to your red lips and the ladybirds start going frantic in your stomach.

was luke about to kiss you?

your blinks start to slow naturally, preparing to shut fully as luke begins to inch in closer to your face, leaning over you in a way that most definitely was uncomfortably straining the muscles in his back.

the door to the rooftop swings open with a squeak before bagging against the wall loudly - echoing all around. startled, you and luke jump away from one another, breathing heavily as your adrenaline comes to a spike.

your body feels freezing without luke's pressed against it, and you shiver uncomfortably, wrapping your soaked fur coat around yourself further.

jack is eyeing you both through the october rain, "hey," he starts, adjusting the plastic firefighter helmet onto his outgrown head of hair. "i've been looking for you guys! y/n we're out of chip dip."

you start walking towards the middle hughes sibling. "sorry, i'll get the other one out the fridge." you sigh, brushing past him and back into the dry hallway of your building.

luke closes his eyes, exhaling loudly.

"you good?" jack asks once luke makes his way over, eyeing his brother suspiciously. "what where you two even doing out here - it's raining."

luke sends his brother a glare, "I know that," he walks back into the building,wiping his face clean of all lingering rain water. "you're so annoying." he quickly walks away from his older brother, leaving him by the door.

jack throws his hands up, "what did I do?"

+ one: christmas

sabrina carpenter's heavenly voice slinks through the warm home, nestling in your ears comfortably. just over the music, you hear ellen hughes laugh happily at something your mom says - both of them in the kitchen, chatting and finishing off a bottle of wine while they clean up the dinner dishes.

jim and your father have been watching hockey tapes in the den, both quiet and content by themselves - them too indulging in a festive spiced wine.

it was christmas eve, after all.

you laugh warmly as quinn dips you low to the ground before pulling you back upwards quickly, sending a quick dizzy wave over you - which is probably the alcohols fault, not quinn's.

jack applauds quinn's elaborate dance moves, smiling with flushed cheeks as he watches you both from his spot sprawled on the worn brown love seat. "where'd you learn to dance like that huggy?" the middle hughes brother questions after a sip of beer, brows raised inquisitively.

quinn doesn't answer and he only spins you on the spot. you hum, "you jealous jack?" your body faces quinn once more, and your momentum has you stumbling slightly, tripping over your own feet and bumping into your dance partner.

"i'm not jealous of anything," jack snickers to himself like he's in on some crazy secret you aren't aware of - but you don't have the mental capacity to unfold that, still laughing and dancing on your family homes shaggy rug.

"yeah yeah whatever," quinn dismisses his brother teasing, rolling his eyes so only you catch it. you giggle at the sight, head falling onto his shoulder as you do.

the stairs creek under somebodies weight, and a moment later luke walks back into the family room empty handed, meeting your eyes. "I can't find it." he tells you.

you leave quinn, which was expected, turning your body and attention towards the youngest brother. "well where did you look?"

after your christmas dinner, ellen and your mom had started going on about childhood memories in their typical sappy mom fashion - laughing and crying while you and the boys eyed them with amusement. your mom was the one who brought up the scrapbook you and luke made together after your shared trip to the zoo on your 11th birthday, which was something even you had forgotten about.

jack had immediately starting pestering and teasing the two of you for being quote on quote cheesy (even though you were kids so obviously you were cheesy - but you digress.) jack begged for you to get the scrapbook so he could see it, and then once he started, quinn claimed he had never seen it and also wanted to look.

"i mean," you had started gently, eyeing luke with a hesitant smile, "it would be nice for us all to look at."

one look at your flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, luke was sighing, pushing off the couch. "where is it?"

luke thumbs over his shoulder, "the hallway closet."

"really?" you hum, deep in thought as you think about where else your beloved shared scrapbook could possibly be hiding. "I mean, we could check my old bedroom closet? sometimes mom keeps stuff in there."

jack groans dramatically from the couch, head lulling back. "hurry up and go find it! I need to see that picture of the giraffe licking y/n's face."

quinn and jack crack up just at the thought of the picture you'd told them about - the image captured you shrieking as the giraffes purple tongue slides up your cheek.

"you whiny baby - we're going!" you huff, walking towards the stairs with luke in tow, both of you making the journey up the creaky staircase.

your room is located at the end of the hall, still painted the sage green you had chosen when you and your family first moved in. you dodge your suitcase that you left in the middle of the room, all of your clothes sprawled across the cream carpet from when you were frantically searching for your christmas sweater this morning.

"holy shit," luke says from behind you, eyes wide as he looks around your childhood room, "I haven't been in this room since like....highschool."

you open your closet doors with a small laugh, amused at your best friends amusement. you start rifling through the millions of photo albums and frames that your mom did fill your closet with - like you expected.

"oh my god, we were so little." luke smiles, picking up your lady bug decorated picture frame that was sitting on your tall dresser - right beside you original speak now CD and jewelry box. you turn to glance at him over your shoulder, smiling automatically at the sight of him looking at the picture. "god where are my front teeth?" he laughs, placing the frame back down.

it's a picture of you and luke when you were both 10, smiling happily poolside in your bathing suits - luke's akward grin made perfect by his lack of front teeth. you giggle with him, the memory of that picture just as fresh now as the day it was taken.

you rifled through a few more old photo albums until your fingers land on the tiger striped spine of your and luke's scrapbook. you gasp, "I found it!" you pull it out of the closet quickly, standing from your previously crouched position to once again face luke. you start flipping through the pages, giggling at the pictures as you do so. "this is amazing."

"dear diary," luke says with a laugh. you look up inquisitively, a quirk to your brow. he's got your fuzzy purple notebook clutched in his hand, flipped open to a random page. "it's y/n again and today i'm feeling a bit...funny." he reads your entry out loud, an amused smile on his face.

"oh god," you laugh, a hand covering your face in embarrassment- already cringing at your younger self.

luke's eyes light up as he reads the next line, laughing as he does so. "the day started absolutely amazing! it was my best friend luke's 11th birthday party! I can't believe he's 11 and in two more months i'll also be 11." he quotes you, "you were such an optimistic happy kid." he laughs.

your heart stops and you can feel your face fall. memories of the day you had wrote that specific diary entry come flooding back to you. you pale and your stomach plummets unpleasantly - you half a bottle of wine taunting you. "luke - give me the diary."

he's still laughing to himself, book propped open with a thumb and middle finger. he continues reading, "we all went to the arcade that luke and I have always wanted to go to together." he quotes you. he pauses, thinking back to that huge indoor party, "it was a sick arcade." luke hums.

you step towards him, "luke seriously lets go...jack and quinn are waiting." you're suprised at how fast your brain came up with an excuse to leave your room and the diary behind - your anxiety through the roof.

he couldn't fishing reading it.

he skims farther down the page, laughing loudly, quoting your writing more. "she was always around like an annoying little fly. lacey kept taking all of luke's attention away from me - you still sound like this by the way."

you try and lunge towards him and grab the diary, but luke is quicker than you (he always has been) and pulls the book farther out of reach. "i'm feeling jealous, diary. because luke is....special - you're too kind to me," he teases you.

"luke," you huff, hands trying to reach around him to grab the book once again, but he spins away, affectively dodging you once more. "please put that away"

luke continues to read the diary entry, your stomach plummeting deeper. "his soft curly hair and his bright eyes-"

"give that to me now." you panic, voice shaky as you beg. you make another attempt at getting your diary out of luke's hands, but he rushes towards the other side of the room, giggling at the writing of child you complimenting him.

luke starts again, "and when he smiles I get ladybugs in my stomach. I love -" he stops reading, face falling. you watch intently as luke's eyes dance over the rest of the lines on the page, reading your 11 year old self's love confession.

you're already thinking of excuses for the entry - you were just a kid and didn't know what love meant or what marriage meant. but you weren't 5 when you wrote it, you were almost a pre-teen who definitely knew what marriage was. that won't work.

you'd could say that lacey was just having you feeling weird and angry - like she always has, but that excuse doesn't seem plausible.

you watch luke anxiously and silently, knawing on your lip as a way to channel your nerves. you were already preparing for your friendship to plummet. now that luke has read your deepest darkest secret - the life long crush you've had on him - you were ready for him to not want to be your friend anymore.

logically, you know you should say something and at least try and convince him that it was nothing - after all it was almost a decade ago and you could play it off as a joke. but words don't come out, and you're stuck in a plummeting hole.

"wow," luke eventually mutters, closing your diary gently.

"luke," you whisper waterly, eyes following him as he walks your diary back over to your dresser, tucking it between taylor swift and framed pictures. you think you might start praying, desperate for luke to want to stay your friend or at least stay in your life - you can't imagine living without him.

"be honest with me," luke starts, "was this just a silly little crush or do you still...love me?"

you mumble his name again, eyes watering with a million emotions that you definitely weren't expecting to experience on christmas eve.

"y/n....tell me."

you meet his eyes, and all you can mutter is a quiet 'I still do', a tear falling down your face and dipping towards your collarbone.

a beat passes.

"well this is pretty embarrassing, right?" he says with a gentle laugh, running a hand over his head of curls in disbelief.

"what?" you mumble.

"I mean over a decade of loving each other in secret, neither of us ballsy enough to say anything- I wonder how many people knew." he laughs to himself, visibly thinking.

you shake your head, "wait what?"

luke steps towards you, closing the space between your bodies in favour of holding the side of your face, his thumb wiping away the trail of water from your tear, resting against your cheekbone affectionately. "I love you."

"you do?"

he nods, "of course I do, wanna read my endless texts from quinn and jack telling me to man up and confess my lifelong crush on you to prove it?" he challenges you teasingly, a playful tone accompanied by a tinge of nerves.

finally, you smile, lips tugging upwards as you reach out for him, your small hand gripping his wrist to keep him close to you. you shake your head, "no, I believe you."

luke laughs breathily, forehead touching yours as he brings your faces closer together. "thank god because those texts are embarrassing." his words are like a million tiny kisses, tickling your face in a way that has your nose scrunching.

"and you reading my diary wasn't?" you question with laughter.

"god no," luke dismisses, "it was cute."

"kiss ass," you smile, running the tip of your nose down the bridge of luke's, nudging your faces closer together. your other hand reaches for his waist, keeping him close.

"yeah." he agrees, free hand moving up to hold the other side of your face. luke smirks one more time before leaning in, finally kissing you.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

[a-mel0n]

Okay, so I know we joke about the whole “Invisible String theory” thing a lot for Bucktommy, but this idea just hit me like a fucking train and I feel like I’m going to explode if I don’t write it down. So, hear me out:

A Bucktommy “Your Name” AU.

If you don’t know about Your Name (go watch it it’s a good movie), the basic synopsis is that two people keep switching bodies when they fall asleep. The switches are fairly common, but they’re random and not on a set schedule. When they “wake up,” they only have faint impressions of their time in the other person’s body— like it was a dream. To keep track of what the other person does in their body, the pair write small “diary entries” at the end of the day to inform the original owner of the body what happened, and to just talk to the other.

Throughout the film, the two people slowly fall in love with each other before the switches suddenly stop, and all memory of the experience fades, including the memos they wrote each other. All that’s left is the faint impression that they’re searching for something, for someone.

So. Here’s my idea. The switches can start at really any point in their lives, but my idea is that they start switching sometime in Season 6, at least from Buck’s perspective. For Tommy, the switches start when he’s still at the 118.

A crucial part of the swaps is that they’re not only switching places, they’re also switching through time, which prevents the pair from actually meeting, because any attempt to meet someplace would just get fucked over due to the time difference.

They write each other small reminders of things they set up while in the other’s body on the other’s phone or on their body; a small set of rules of things to NOT do while they’re swapped; the occasional back-and-forth; the whole nine yards. Maybe you could have a fun scene of Chimney showing up at the 118 for the first time while Buck is in Tommy’s body and he has to slam his mouth shut everytime he goes to instinctively call him “Chimney” instead of “Howard” or “Howie.”

(Maybe that’s how Chim got his nickname in this universe, a whole bootstrap paradox situation.)

The swaps continue all the way up until Buck gets struck by lightning while in his own body, and that three-minute-eleven-second period where he’s dead is enough to prevent the swaps from ever happening again. Once he wakes up from his coma dream, he’s lost all memory of the swaps, and all the little notes that Tommy wrote on his phone are gone.

Despite that, he can’t help but feel like he’s missing something, or… someone. Someone dear to him, someone he couldn’t have possibly forgotten. And yet, no matter how hard he tries, he can’t remember anything about them.

(Actually… maybe there is a moment where they can talk to each other. While Tommy is passed out due to the gas leak in that mall, Buck is still in his coma dream, and they actually speak face-to-face for the first time. Maybe they promise each other to meet up after they wake up. But, once they do— they’ve forgotten all about the other.)

Tommy continues to live his own life, with this faint feeling that he’s waiting for something. He transfers out of the 118 and over to Harbor in order to satisfy that feeling, and while it does provide some relief, that feeling doesn’t go away. When Howie calls him to help the 118 out with that residential fire, that feeling of “waiting waiting waiting searching” blazes to life again, pulling him towards the ground and the people running around beneath him. It recedes fairly quickly, though, in fact— as he’s flying away from that neighborhood after preforming the water drop.

Buck, on the other hand, is in that post-lightning-strike state. He’s got his super math powers and the newfound appreciation for life, yet the feeling that he’s looking for something (a feeling he’s had all his life, independent of the swaps), has gotten a whole lot stronger and he can’t pinpoint why.

Then the cruise disaster happens, and he has to push those thoughts out of his mind, for Bobby and Athena’s sake. And then… Chimney calls in an old friend for a favor.

(“You and I… haven’t we… haven’t I met you somewhere before?”)

[indigovigilance]

Every single minisode is Aziraphale's memory, and why that's [not?] important

There is extensive meta-analysis, my own included, that Before the Beginning is a doctored memory resulting from erasure of Angel!Crowley, and that the trace of him that is left in Aziraphale's memory is the Starmaker, so that this is what we see at the opening of S2. With this foundation of "some scenes are altered memories," we can critically examine the minisodes and see that, in fact, they are ALL Aziraphale's memories that are potentially subject to doctoring.

Evidence (and exploration) below the cut:

A Companion to Owls

The largest part (S2E2 22:10 to 44:00) Book of Job flashback is book-ended by Aziraphale leaning over the physical Book of Job in his bookshop. We enter the memory when Aziraphale enters it, we leave it when he leaves it. Pretty straightforward.

The Ressurrectionists

Similarly, in S2E3, we begin the first flashback to 1827 with Aziraphale's "dear diary" entry. We flash out each time to Aziraphale: in the car to Edinburgh, getting out of the car at the Ressurrectionist Pub, and with Aziraphale staring up at the statue of Gabriel while standing in the graveyard in Edinburgh, respectively for each of the three flashbacks. This all strongly indicates that we've been in his memory.

Nazi Zombie Flesheaters

I didn't even notice until I was doing research for this that basically the entire episode takes place in 1941. From the end of the main title at 5:00 to 37:50, we never come out of the 1941 story. But what is interesting is what bookends this minisode.

Before the main title, Shax has tricked her way into Aziraphale's car and alludes to a time when a rumor started about our ineffable husbands:

Sometime in the last 80 or 90 years I remember hearing that you and Crowley were an item. I didn't believe it then. Not really. Poor old Furfur.

And when we flash back to modern day, we first go to Hell with Shax proposing a full frontal assault on the bookshop, and then we get:

Aziraphale has arrived back in SOHO, and has spent the 8 hour drive reminiscing about what Shax alluded to.

But this part gets even weirder. Because the final line of the episode is:

You're really hosting the meeting? Absolutely! And I can guarantee you: it will be a night to remember!

What this means in context of the 3 memory sequence

This line has been taken by a lot of analysts as a reference to A Night to Remember by Walter Lord, a collection of first person accounts of passengers of the Titanic. Most notably, the thematic ties of this work to the cinematographic design of Good Omens are captured by this quote:

A key to Lord's method is his technique of adopting an unconventional approach to the chronology of the event, "[taking] an imaginative approach to time and space in which hours and minutes prove extremely malleable, the ship itself seems almost infinitely complex, and the disaster assumes order and unity from far away."

Which is an amazing connection, and probably true, in that it was a deliberate reference by the writers. "Malleability of time and space" describes well how this show is put together for us the viewer. But it also illustrates how Aziraphale experiences his relationship with Crowley; skipping over centuries at a time, while dwelling on and protracting intimate moments spent together, create a cohesive whole when viewed from a distance. That whole is their relationship. [Which is about to go down like an unsinkable ship.]

But absent the literary reference, we could even take this line for its literal meaning. Aziraphale is talking about forming new memories, after we have spent the last three episodes living in his memories of times with Crowley that were key to shaping their relationship. This isn't a S1E3-style series of allusions to a furtive, flirtatious, and organically blossoming intimacy; these are rough events where the two are shoved into moral quandaries and forced to make some really difficult decisions that bring them closer together and define "their side." These are core memories, and incredibly precious to Aziraphale. And now, after a few short days in which he has spent a lot of time ruminating on these intense memories, he is embarking upon the task of making another important memory, that is, dancing with Crowley.

Why We Care

Because memories can be altered, all of the information we get from these episodes is subject to a reliable narrator problem. As of the Gabriel trial, we know that memories can be doctored even when the person in question isn't present. Crowley knows that his memories have been removed or altered, and has put painful effort into retrieving them. Aziraphale may not realize that he has suffered the same fate. These memories that he holds so dear might not even be true.

Memory, Identity, and the Relevance of Fidelity

We would probably expect to get some "corrections" to these memories in S3, to see exactly what kind of manipulations our heroes suffered and what that reveals about the motivations of the perpetrators. That's how a paranormal mystery story with a memory manipulation element would normally proceed.

But it will be even more significant if we don't; it would speak to a philosophy-of-self that you are not the product of your objective past, but of what you remember, and so we don't get to know what actually happened because it doesn't matter to informing us about who Aziraphale is.

Aziraphale's love for Crowley springs from what he remembers about their shared past; it doesn't necessarily matter that the memories aren't true, because the love is.

~~~

I realize that I kinda buried the lead, so if you reblog, please tag appropriately? I'm taking suggestions.

If you want to read more on this topic, this meta by @ineffable-suffering is a good place to go.

[vergeltvng]

"Hey, William. Goddamn the pusher man, am I right? You really gonna shoot that shit in your veins?" "You know, I think I just might." "Odds are you'll die screaming." "Well, I've gambled more for less." "I don't think you're gonna do it. Turn yourself into a Supe? That's a new low, even for you." "Oh, I can go lower. I can go straight to hell."

THE ONLY MAN IN THE SKY — 3x02

[This was one of the most intense character moments ever. His voice trembling in the end when he said "Becca don't care what I do" gave me the chills.]

REPOST THREE FAVORITE PICTURES OF YOURS, PUT A RIGHT QUOTE UNDER THEM AND TAG PERSONS.

tagged by: @thesmartassdetective tagging: @arasanwar @dear-diary-of-disaster @heartofglass-mindofstone @revenantslayer @a-neverending-story

[acheronist]

What do you think henry's personality was like?

putting this under a readmore because i just know that i'm so insufferably annoying about this guy

so above all else i think we need to remember this guy was darling & beloved enough that someone else gave up his own chances of survival just to protect henry's words. He Was Very Dear To Someone. We Know This.

but i think he was very thoughtful and very clever, even for a guy in his 30s who hadn't been to school since he was 12. he was familiar enough with long-term life aboard a ship & knew that privacy was hard to come by, so he was smart enough to write nearly everything in his diary backwards. he mentions keeping an eye on "my frends" pretty regularly, and talks often about being concerned about if everything is "comfortabel". he often writes about what he "obsearved" and "went to sea" and what happened "on first/middel watch", and of course doodled the infamous lid bay 👁️, and there are times when he apparently "maid it my bisness" to check on things, even though a lot of what he's talking about were probably relatively mundane and nonspecific events aboard terror/amongst her crew while they were all fairly healthy and alright still. if the ships were ice-locked, he wouldn't have had a ton of work to do in the sails and rigging, so i suspect he started spending his time keeping track of what was going on with the crew which were (on average) about a decade and change younger than him. he was very concerned with being aware of his surroundings, but even more important, he was also very concerned about His People and His Friends being warm and comfortable and settled and well.

i also think he might have been a little bit odd compared to the average sailor-- the way he fills up pages is kind of sporadic and can range from really over-full and slanted and squished into one corner when he isn't thinking too hard about it, to pages that are nearly empty and carefully printed in very neat circles and spirals. obviously this isn't a very accurate way of gauging personality, but i think it's worth mentioning!! when he was writing for just himself, the pages are messy and crowded and rambling and strange, but when he was writing with an audience in mind, it's extremely neat and tidy and very carefully organized. and he was a bit of an archivist too-- there are scraps of pages that have fun clues like "lines writ in the arctic" and "lines writ april - november" and when things got dire, he put in the effort to write down an account of his long career in the navy. (he left out the year he was flogged from his career account, though. this was also one of the only pages he wrote in neat scripted forwards english, so it kind of indicates to me that it was something he was scared he would get judged posthumously for, and left it out on purpose. make of that what you will.)

i suspect also that he didn't particularly like the navy by 1845, but it was just what he had spent his life doing. in 1844/1845 he was trying to purchase a pub in westminster (and even put an ad in the newspaper looking for a polite young man to take over for him as bartender before he left for the expedition!!!), but probably ran out of money, and planned on doing one more navy job (with double pay!) to afford the final things for his pub, but sadly ummmm that never worked out. gesturing vaguely towards the overall disasters of the franklin expedition.

however, he was quite prone to being nostalgic. he writes very often about the great parties he remembers attending when he was young and warm and handsome ("party wot happened at trinadad", "the old sitty of cumanar [...] with singing and danceing", "sentimental song", etc) which might have been a coping mechanism for being cold and miserable in the arctic!!! but who knows!!! on the subject of drinking, though, he mentions his "grog shop" and "my bisness" and wanting a drink after having "hard ground to heave" so this was a guy who liked to drink. looked forward to having his grog rations. we can very confidently say this was a working class guy who liked relaxing and having fun and wanted to do Something Different after a lifetime of being kind of used and abused by the british navy.

so i dont knowwww i think he was far more thoughtful and caring and clever than he gets credit for. he wasn't a lieutenant or a superior officer, and on top of his handwriting being kind of convoluted and hard to read, the pages have been disregarded for a really long time because from the empire's perspective, what could a kind of poor working class guy who probably got cannibalized have to tell us? surely nothing significant. :)

but again. someone loved this guy enough to die protecting his letters and papers. he was cared for, and clearly there was a lot of love and concern in his own mind for his fellows as circumstances were getting more and more dire over time. and even despite those circumstances, he still found time to keep his own records of what happened, to teach others how to write, to help out when he could, to think about poetry and art, and to remember the parts of his life that made him happiest. 🫶

[melonbear51]

VTM Character Concepts I am Compelled to Share: Malkavian Edition

HAPPY HOLIDAYS! Sorry I kinda disappeared off the face of the earth (work has been wild because tis the season I guess), but a bouquet of Mlakavian ideas have bloomed from my brain and I am eager to share them with you all. As always, feel free to use any of these ideas in your campaigns, art, etc. and please do message me about what your characters are up to! Also, PLEASE be mindful that VTM is a dark game so I'd advise against engaging with some of the concepts if you are aren't in a good headspace. VTM is a game, but your mental health isn't. Please take care of yourselves ❤️ With that said, let's get into some concepts for a clan I hold very near and dear to my heart! 1. A Malkavian with severe agoraphobia, but not for the reasons you might think. You see, they are keeping themselves isolated and sticking to one place because every time they go outside, it seems like disaster strikes. Others may say its a coincidence, but this Malkavian is convinced they are a walking herald of disaster, and wants to protect those they love. 2. A Malkavian computer scientist and programmer who scoffs at those who believe in a higher power. Why? Because they are building a God via AI who will shepherd humanity and kindred into a new era . 3. A Malkavian who wakes up every night with no memory of the previous one. To combat this, they obsessively journal, take notes and photographs, and record audio diaries. So far the rest of the coterie hasn't caught on yet, but with every night things become more difficult. 4. A Malkavian who developed an incredibly intense fear of silence after encountering a complete absence of sound during their embrace. To avoid it, they always have headphones to play music on their person, and tend to do things like drum their fingers against tables to produce noise. Though this helps, it can be irritating to other kindred, and a big hindrance during espionage and infiltration missions. 5. A Malkavian who, desperate to cure their derangement, has begun hunting down and diablerizing Salubri, believing the clan of healers’s blood is the solution to all their problems.

6. A Malkavian who is nonverbal due to a fear that some of their Dominate abilities, which have been erratic and uncontrollable in the past, act up. In life they felt helpless over the fact that many things were out of their control and wished they could have things their way, but now they regret their wish with all their heart.

7. A photographer Malkavian who strongly believes in the idea that when you take someone’s picture, you capture a piece of their soul. Fascinated by the fact that the Lasombra don’t show up on cameras correctly, they are obsessed with the idea of getting a proper snapshot of one and analyzing it.

Hope you all enjoy!

[diedandwenttobobevans]

8/14/2024 - 5:49 AM

oof

hello

long time no journal? Its been a few weeks. Lets see

I've been meaning to get back into it. I really want to make this a habit. (Daily? Weekly?) I actually started googling some diffrent journaling formats that might make it easier? I'll continue to do research. I feel like "stream of concious" writing for journaling is still good. Its good to get all this shit out of me brains. I think sitting down and concentrating on my thoughts is also good self reflection. Maybe. I don't know.

So still need a new therapist, tbh haven't really looked into it as I've been focusing on streaming. Had a really good birthday stream that genuinly revitalized my drive to stream. It was so touching to have a card signed by chat and tons of birthday wishes and presents. I just took 5 minutes to stop what I was doing because I realized I say "Like" too much and went down a short rabbithole of the word.

So one of the issues probbably for me with journaling is it should be something I do in them morning but these past few times I leave it for the evening to empty out my head and then find myself getting sleepy.

So before I head to bed to get a few hours of rest, lets catch up. I haven't heard back from the girl I hung out with, and I sent her a link text message but I tihnk I'll send a regular message later today. I'm really hesitant cause she didnt respond to the first message. But also maybe she didnt see it? Maybe it was too stupid, it was a webcomic about bisexuality. I was a little wine drunk. She did mention going to hang outs so maybe thats my in? oooff girls pretty and intimidating uuuuughhhh

Still feeling all over the place when it come to sleep. I desire to sleep at a reasonable time and be productive during the day and not sleep in weird shifts.

Why does doing any task what so ever make me so fucking tired wtf

UUUUhhhhh before i go crash, I want to try to do maybe a morning jounral dn evening journal, evening for what I did and morning for some affiramations and trying to fix my headspace to be more positive. Still have major self esteem issues. Also I need to start worning out, found my sports bras so I can atleast start running. I feel like I have fat phobia and body issues and I worry I have been binge eating recently, especially when high. Excercise will prob help with the sleep and moodswing stuff.

OK Im tapped out, theres so much more I want to word vomit but I got to crash.

SO personal upcoming goals then:

Morning Affirmations - Optimism training

Evening thought dump journals

collage art still want to do but not tonight. this morning? not this time

Listening: JAZZ CABBAGE - GURT

Reading: Yuria's Red String (God this is such a sad but good read. About a japanese woman in her 50's whose husband has a terrible accident that leaves him unconcious and she discovers about the secrets lives hes been leading this entire time. Reminds me of the tiktoks about women who regret their marriages cause of all the expecancies of being a wife and takeing care of the household while men continue to be shit)

[thetourturedwritersclub]

Finis vitae sed non amoris-its the end of life but not of love

Chapter six: February

February 4th 1977

Dear diary

Today was a fun day. I met with the book club and we discussed Pride and Prejudice. It was a great book overall. I depicts topics of importance when it comes regarding our society. Very well written. I have started talking to Lily more often. She is really kind and really nice. Very intelligent and very argumentative. We all have debates regarding our opinions for certain topics

Goodbye for now

R. A. B

February 8th 1977

Dear diary

I have been invited to one of Professor Slughorn club meetings. I don't think I will be attending.

Goodbye for now

R. A. B

February 10th 1977

Dear diary,

Well. I ended up attending thanks to Panda. She accompanied me since I refused to go anyway else. I didn't want to be stuck with idiots. But you know who else I happened to see there? James Potter himself. Why was he there? I don't know. In the middle Panda left me to go see Lily and James spotted me. When he saw me he smiled so brightly. A smile I would give anything in the world to be seen by me only.

In that moment I realised the sings I was giving. I have a crush on James Potter. This is definitely going to end in a disaster.

Goodbye for now

R. A. B

February 12th 1977

Dear diary,

Since realising I have a crush on James Potter my mind hasn't let me think about anything else at all. It's driving me crazy

Goodbye for now

R. A. B

February 14th 1977

Dear diary,

St Valentines. The day of love. When will it be my turn to feel that type of love. Every couple celebrates their love and they organise surprises for significant other. It's sweet but sometimes its annoying.

Goodbye for now

R. A. B

February 18th 1977

Dear diary,

Well me and James haven't been scheduling more tutoring session so that does give me an excuse to avoid him untill these feelings fade away.

Goodbye for now

R. A. B

February 25th 1977

Dear diary,

What a tiring week. So much homework. So many subjects. So many lessons to attend. Tomorrow is our last Quidditch match for the season. Griffidoor versus Slytherin it's going to be fun. I will also have no excuse to avoid seeing James's face.

Goodbye for now

R. A. B

February 28th 1977

Dear diary,

Well. They won the match and the Quidditch Cup. I am upset about it because all of our efforts and training went down the drain. I hoped we would win. But there is two years left to have the cup. One if I want to beat Potter.

Nonetheless I did attend the party in the Gryffindor common room. After all, Gryffindors are known for throwing the best parties at Hogwarts. And not for bad reason. So there I was, in the party 3 cups of fire whiskey in and 2 cups of rose lemonade. I was staying in a corner taking in the atmosphere.

Barty and Evan were singing Karaoke, singing their hearts out. Sirius and Remus were dancing. Remus looked like he was going to die of embarrassment while Sirius was having the time of his life. Peter came next to me and we got to chatting since the silence was a bit awkward. Turns out he's great to chat with. Intelligent and funny. Spontaneous and chaotic. We talked about the match, the party school. Then he left finding his girlfriend Emmeline.

James approached me then and we talked. Just a short conversation. The pleasantries, a little about the match and then before he had to leave he gave an envelope. After he left I opened it and it said:

Meet me tomorrow in the Room of Requirements, at 4'o clock.

J. F. P

Goodbye for now

R. A. B

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

.... Hello!! I'm back! I'm sorry for the small disappearance but now I'm back!

So this chapter features angst, starchaser, rose killer, Pandora and a cliffhanger. (Teehe)

The list of amazing people who wanted to be tagged :

@raine-ray

@ivy-is-chaos

@permetutotheworld

@reddamselette

@blurstardust

@that-stressed-out-chic

[rainbow-flavoured-skittles]

I am going to start writing the next 100 followers fic today hopefully. it's going to be the pjo one where Jason doesn't die