#I have SUCH a hard time picking up new things

[lizardho]

I was like 11-12 years old when I figured out at a boring-ass church activity that you could put rocks into little plastic spoons and then pelt people who annoyed me with them. I did this for the rest of the activity, and at Sunday dinner the next night was bragging about my victory (cornering the mean kid who picked on my youngest brother and pelting him with rocks). One of my cousins was like “no way, that sounds SO fun! Let’s do that RIGHT NOW!” So we grabbed spoons and went and got pebbles from the back yard and launched them at each other.

The problem was my grandma sold her soul for the world’s most resilient plastic spoons so we could launch those fuckers HARD. I gave out welts like candy on Halloween, and I got them back in kind.

So we resorted to taking cover and giggling until we got whacked, then yelping, then returning fire.

My cousin hid in my grandpa’s little fishing boat. It was a good boat, but simple and honestly underused. We didn’t know the little windows on it, meant to keep the wind out of my grandpa’s face while he drove, were cracking. However, they were definitely cracking. Eventually it became obvious and we realized we had been being dumb.

This was NOT the first time in my life I’d been dumb roughhousing and broken something, and I had developed a reputation in my family as being “suicidally honest” so I was the one to deliver the bad news. My grandpa let out a pretty good chuckle and said it was OK, tousled my hair, and asked my grandma to bring me cake. I am not kidding. I learned later he hated his boat and only bought it for his kids’ sakes, since he thought everyone needed to know how to fish. At the time though I was just bewildered and pleased at my good fortune. FINALLY, at long last, being honest and telling the truth about breaking something expensive was getting me cake. I knew if I kept trying it would eventually serve me, and now so had CAKE. I was pleased as could be.

My dad, on the other hand, was livid. He LOVED that boat. He spent several weeks each summer recovering from breaking ribs in that boat every year for about 7 years prior to this incident. He had great memories and memories that boat. So he told my Grandma NO cake for me AND that I’d be coming by this weekend to fix stuff around the house and pay for the broken window with my babysitting/lawn mowing money.

Obviously I was devastated, but that felt more in-line with the way things normally went when I broke something expensive so I just figured it was OK. My grandpa gave my grandma a look and sadly said “Ok, have her here on Saturday to help me with some yard work.”

That Saturday my dad woke me up at 6:00 sharp and drove me, sleepy and bewildered, to my grandpa’s house. He was mumbling under his breath the whole time but he thought he was teaching me consequences for my actions so he was ultimately OK with it.

We get to my grandpa’s house at 6:15. My grandpa is outside with a ladder hanging Christmas lights. The lawn is freshly mowed, the trees and garden are weeded and well-tended to, the carnations in the front yard look immaculate, and my grandpa has this giddy mischievous look on his face. He tells me he was so excited that I was coming over that he couldn’t sleep, so he did all the yard work himself. He asked me to help him put up Christmas lights and decorate the Christmas tree, which I did, then said that because I was such a good helper I could have some pancakes for breakfast. I was sent home with the slice of cake I had been denied the week before, wrapped to keep it as fresh as possible.

The whole way home my dad looked a little miffed, but told me that he was glad I had been honest and was proud of me for helping grandpa. I know he wanted me to Learn a Lesson™️the cowboy way, like he had as a kid, but didn’t have much room to complain since I’d still been Put To Work.

I think that was a lesson for both of us, although I’m not totally sure what it was supposed to show me. I think it was my grandpa’s way of showing my dad that discipline without tenderness doesn’t count as much. He died last year and I miss him terribly, as does my dad. I hope that my story of victory, drama, punishment, and ultimately a secret second victory is meaningful to someone else out there, but if not it still means a lot to me ��️

[priniya]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 END OF THE DAY ! ᡣ𐭩ᯓ

pairing. lando norris x reader

summary. being a supportive girlfriend during an awfully stressful time is hard, so when reader and lando ends up fighting, neither of them is surprised. however, she can’t help but be in love with him at the end of the day.

notes. pretty short and not proofread 😕😕

YOU WERE WALKING ON EGGSHELLS FOR THE PAST two weeks around your boyfriend. he was thrown into contention for the title mid-season and as the last race weekend of the season was getting excruciatingly closer, lando’s mood was dropping drastically. you understood it, not in the way that you were in the same situation as him, but frustration, pressure and disappointment weren’t strangers to you. you could see that your boyfriend was gradually becoming a ticking bomb, yet unsure when will his breaking point happen.

as it turned out, it happened on a second day after he got back from brazil. it was a silly argument that escalated to a major fight, resulting in you, driving back to your apartment in ventimiglia to give the brit his required space.

it wasn’t ideal, coming home, you hardly stepped a foot into your apartment, when lando was in monaco as you usually stayed at his place to get as much of him as possible in the — usually — short period of time. norris, unbeknownst to you, immediately felt terrible just as he watched you left. guilt creeped up his spine, yet he made no effort to stop you, knowing that he needed some space to get ahold of himself. no title could make him fill the void if he lost you.

so, after a few days of radio silence from one another, you were starting to feel like you were losing the precious time you had with lando. the clip from max fewtrell’s stream with your boyfriend there, saying that he’s eating food that sat in his fridge for more than six months or staying awake for 26 hours, has found its way into your twitter feed. it made you worry restlessly.

thirty or so minutes later, while lando was still playing some game with max and a few of their friends, you let yourself into his apartment and started rummaging through his to find all those expired items and threw them out, already making an order for new groceries. as much petty as you could be sometimes, you didn’t want your boyfriend to end up with food poisoning, it was kind of oscar’s thing now.

cleaning his fridge took you fifteen minutes at most, considering that you threw up a huge portion of its content. it was just then, when you decided to put on your big girl pants and face him. you made him some tea with lemon and honey, before quietly tapping him on the shoulder.

“jesus christ!” he shrieked, causing you to giggle. “mate, i think i’m having some sorta proper hallucinations.” your boyfriend spoke into his headset, not believing the sight in front of him — not believing that he was seeing you. you could’ve easily picked up the guys taking a piss out of him, which made you laugh even harder.

“you need sleep, lad.” “yeah, you sound like a maniac.” “that’s the expired meat speaking.”

“don’t worry ‘bout it, lads. i’ll take care of him.” you moved closer to the microphone to let the guys know that everything’s taken care of, fully aware that max, your boyfriend’s best friend, would get concerned.

“i’m super sorry.” lando spoke softly, once you left the discord call. his arms snuck around your waist, pulling you flush against him — almost as if he had really missed you. “i love you so much, please don’t break up with me.” he added. you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth to bite back the chuckle upon not only hearing his words, but also upon seeing his childish-like expression.

you managed to escape his embrace, dropping your hand into his, while trying to drag him back into his room for a nap. it wasn’t a hard task with lando trailing right behind you until you sat him down at the edge of the bed.

“i’m not mad at you, baby.” you reassured him in a gentle tone. your hand caressing his cheek. “i still love you, okay? but you gotta go to bed, lando. we’ll talk later, alright?” you tried to coax him into listening to you and you’ve succeeded.

WHEN YOUR BOYFRIEND WOKE UP A FEW HOURS later, he thought that your presence in his apartment was just a dream. having pushed himself off the bed, he walked to the kitchen to finish off his expired chicken. that’s when he found you lounging on the couch, while eating something that smelled incredibly well.

yup, he must’ve been hallucinating.

with that in mind, he didn’t even approach you, trying not to feed into his delusions. if his mates knew that he started seeing his girlfriend after eating something that spent a few months in his fridge, they would never let him live it down. he furrowed his brows at the sight of a pan full of carbonara that he had no recollection of making — maybe he should go see a doctor?

lando sighed in relief after having taken a sniff of the dish, realising that somehow it’s not gone bad. how did it ended up in his place? no idea.

“bloody hell, no more eating expired food. i’m seeing stuff.” the brit muttered, rubbing his face in slight frustration. upon hearing his quiet mutter, you let out a small chuckle, tilting your head to the side in amusement.

“lando, you know i’m real, right?” you mused, a small smile creeping up on your lips. your boyfriend’s forehead creased in confusion. god, he seemed so out of it. “as in, i came here this afternoon, you’re not seeing stuff.” your words were coated with hilarity as you gave him a look.

lando was bewildered. twenty six hours of sleep weren’t that much, how did he forget that you got to his apartment and, apparently, talked to him? his cheeks flushed in embarrassment as he put the plate down on the coffee table and sat next to you.

“i, uh, wanted to call.” he spoke, his head hanging a bit lower. “t’was unnecessary, my outburst, i mean.” a sigh escaped his lips. he was slowly beginning to look like a sad, kicked puppy.

“it was super unnecessary.” you agreed, running a hand through his hand in a slow motion. “we can’t really go back in time, can we?” he shook his head at your words, taking your hand in his hair as an invitation, so he moved closer to you, his arm sneaking around your waist.

“but you still love me?”

“yes, lando. i still love you.” you leaned your head on his shoulder.

“good, i would probably kill myself, uh, or die without you.”

[mrsq8geek]

I think about this every now and then so here's what I got on this:

Social constructs often are based on things that are either unchangable or very difficult to change. The 24 hour system is a social construct but it's based on something measurable and that varies so little that, for most intents and purposes, it's practically static. Kind of related. Another example: Farming, hunting, or fishing have similar cultures across the world, because we all gotta eat so we learn what exists in the world and how to turn it into food. Fried ball of dough across the world! Seafaring culture shanties (and also work songs) my beloved.

Uncertainty and risk associated with change. People generally agree that the four-day work-week would be better for... well, most things, including productivity, than five days, given how much the world has changed. But even with so many companies and sometimes countries coming out of trials with positive results, it's a slow change, often because a lot of decision-makers would rather stick with what they know, or maybe they want to proceed with a change, but don't know which option to go with. Take this and bog it down with all the details of humanity. The potential loss of the tried-and-true usefulness/benefits of the existing system can easily outweigh the cost and risk of changing to something new.

The inherent tension between standardization and specialization. ISO is a boon. Forcing the peoples you conquer to adopt your way of life has resulted in countless losses, some of which have not been recovered, and others which we're now paying for. Also, I'll use any excuse to bring up this episode of 99% Invisible. Different cultures live in different material realities, which creates different specialized social constructs suited to that place, which inevitably clashes with whoever the superior culture at the time thinks is Best, and so on as we trend towards globalized homogeneity.

You can't have it all. There will come a time where you will have to choose one social construct and its associated consequences over another. And what you value as important will affect that greatly: after you after happiness? Meaning? Contentment? What if you're after compliance with your group? Socioeconomic power? Sometimes there will be social consensus that you did the Right Thing and sometimes not, what then?

That being said, I definitely get the knee-jerk reaction to think "social construct = fake = bad" because when someone says "x is a social construct", it's often in the context of how that construct can change, and that's a threat. For some people, it's as simple as "change is hard and scary", but you might end up having a nice conversation after that. Other times, it'll be "you want to change something that I personally benefit from" and that's more difficult to pick apart.

Personally, I'm not a fan of "most work happens in the morning", the choice of jobs available in the afternoon/evening is very limited and I'm always struggling. Someone convince morning people that night owls are important, too!

man. People get so upset when you call things social constructs. Thinking that if you say something is a social construct that means it's fake and unnatural, and following that, that that means it’s bad. Something being a social construct means that it’s socially constructed. That’s it.

Money is a social construct. Weekends are a social construct. Vegetables are a social construct.

That doesn’t mean it’s okay if my paycheck is withheld or my rent is late. Doesn’t mean I don’t luxuriate in sleeping in on Saturday. Doesn’t mean the nutrients in tomatoes or spinach aren’t good for you.

What it means is that the way we think about things is socially constructed, and could be constructed a different way. Why do we base our society around money? What does value mean outside of money? What is “value”? The way we construct it isn’t the only possible way.

Why is a week a cycle of seven days, and five of those days are for working and two of those days are for resting? Could we organize our time differently? Should we? What would that look like? Other cultures don’t/didn’t have seven-day weeks with a five on-two off cycle. It’s not inevitable. It’s historically and culturally specific.

“Fruit” has a scientific definition but “vegetable” does not. Many parts of plants are culinarily defined as vegetables. Fruits (eggplant, avocado, tomato), stems (celery, asparagus), leaves (kale, lettuce), roots (carrots, potatoes, turnips)… all of these are culturally categorized as vegetables. And nutrition advice is based on this cultural categorization. Is a mushroom a vegetable? It’s not even a plant! Why do we categorize it this way? Why isn’t wheat or oats considered vegetables, but corn is, except when it isn’t? Could we categorize our plant-based food other ways?

Calling these social constructs doesn’t mean they’re bad or unimportant. It just calls attention to the fact that they aren’t inevitable. That they could be constructed in different ways, and that is worth thinking about, and thinking about the value we get in constructing things the way we do.

Gender is a social construct.

Romance is a social construct.

They are based on feelings, desires, and experiences, but how we name and categorize and express and act on them are fully culturally constructed. Other cultures do and have constructed these concepts in other ways. You can like the way we do it now. You can find it stifling. But the way we do it now is not the only, inevitable, inherent, real way. It could be done other ways, organized and categorized and conceptualized in other ways. And that’s not a bad thing either.

[boofeine]

Just read your ‘what makes svt vocal in bed’ and I started giggling and kicking my feet at Cheol’s. Would love to see you go into further detail because I just KNOW that man loves seeing the claw marks you leave on his back and arms 🙂‍↕️

WARNINGS: mdni, (small) pain kink, marking, scratching, pet name, swearing, mentions of cumming inside, rough sex, raw sex

As a leo, this man just loves the little reminders you let on his skin. Seungcheol definitely wakes up the next morning, smiling and shaking his head to himself, staring at his naked reflection on the bathroom mirror, with the red marks of your scratches all over his back and arms.

The type to see your new nails done first thing. His light touch coming to your hands, so he can bring it close to his face and take a good look at the sharp and perfectly shaped nails. "Beautiful" He praises, caressing your fingers with his thumb, a smirk forming on his lips as he looks up to your face instead "They will make such beautiful marks" He says, letting a kiss to your hand before letting it go from his grip.

Seungcheol loves to go restless on you. His thrusts deep and fast as you squirm under him. He goes down to reach even further inside, your leg up on his arm as his breath fans on the nap of your neck with his animalistic pace while you moan on his ear. Your nails digging up on his back, going all the way down to his hips. The burning feeling of the scratch on his skin making him groan, his thrusts haulting with how much that affects him. "Fuck, I love when you do this... Shit! It feels so fucking good" he confesses.

He loves to edge you, just so he can see your desesparate state that includes tugging his arms and pulling his neck harshly, like you just need to find ground on something. Your pussy aching to cum, clenching around him so much with the needy moans of his name. His eyes rolling back when your legs come around his waist, caging him in between your legs, your nails drowning on his shoulders "cheol, please, i need to cum" you beg and how can he say no? A grunt leaving his lips and the same high coming to him, his balls tightening and breath pacing.

Seungcheol always want you under him, because he can't help but be addicted to the feeling of you cumming and gripping his biceps with so much force that has him going insane. But he also likes when he has you from behind, your head aligned with his shoulders as he fucks you. His dick gets so impossibly hard by the sight of your ass bouncing with his bucks. The way your knuckles turn white from handing tightly his thighs under you. Cry out moans filling the room as your back arch and the same familiar knot form on your stomach "Fuck! Cheol... so- goooo -o... -d... aaaah!" you stutter in between moans and his thrusts that makes your body shake. His hoarsy voice taking over "cum, pretty. let it go for me" he hums. Your nails pressing his skin like it was just sheets. The grip pushing the sides of his ass to keep fucking you as you feel your high approaching. "Shiiiiit" He swears under his breath. Your body stopping just to let it all out seconds after as you cum and make a mess on your inner thighs, his cock and balls. His eyes shutting and head lowering with a low moan as his load empty inside your cunt.

The rare times you get the chance to have him under you, he can also enjoy the view. The way your boobs bounce while you roll your hips on him. The way you arch your back and dig your nails to his abs when he starts to meet up your thrusts. He's so obsessed with the sight of the line of your neck and clavicle when you moan out with your head thrown back. You're so desesparate picking up the pace, not even realizing how you're going down to just beneath his core with your sharp claws, low groans coming out from him as you're too preoccupied on chasing your own high over his cock to even mind. He gets himself running laps underneath you. You know He's enjoying it, too.

[claudiafrankie]

Pick a Card: How They See You

DISCLAIMER: TAROT IS NOT AN EVIDENCE-BASED PRACTICE. YOU ARE IN CHARGE OF MAKING YOUR OWN DECISIONS.

Pile 1: The Dog

This person sees you as having mastered the earth element. I think you are pretty detached with the way you approach your goals and it like doesn't compute in this person's brain that this is how you get the things that you want and build the world around you that you have.

They see you as someone who revels in the simple pleasures in life - sitting in the grass on a sunny day, stretching your body in the morning, a delicious seasonal coffee creamer. You are rich in the ways that count pile 1. You take good care of yourself and because of this you kind of exude a nurturing quality to those around you. Whether you intend to or not, you help other people get to where they want to go. You build people up and show them that they are capable of achieving their goals. I think you have a good eye for material goods and know what to splurge on and what to buy generic brand. Maybe you invest in nice cookware and knives because you know you'll use those for years to come, or in a high-quality bed spread or mattress. You take care of your body and appearance, you understand this to be an art form. But you also know that it's not everything. And this down-to-earth quality of taking good care of yourself but also not taking it too seriously or to extremes is really sexy to a lot of people. I think this person thinks that other people see you as husband/wife material. If you're single they're scratching their head like "how the hell are they not wifed up yet"

I think they see you as someone who doesn't stay in people's lives for very long, and they are worried that this is going to be the case for your relationship with them as well. They think you are in tune with the rhythms of nature and aren't afraid to let go and move on. You enjoy the good times when they come knowing they won't last forever, and you don't let the hard times beat you down when they come because you know they will pass.

I think they see you as someone who has learned all this the hard way. As someone who has been through many highs and lows, someone flexible in the circumstances you can thrive and survive in. You know when a tree lifts up the concrete of a sidewalk? That's you. Pavement be damned, you are going to keep growing and growing. You understand setbacks are part of progress. You don't let the hiccups hangups and obstacles sway you from steady movement forward.

I think they think that you are very loyal to those you care about, perhaps to your own detriment at times. I think this person sees you as someone who feels easily caged and needs a lot of space to try new things and be your own person. They see these two sides of you being at odds with each other at times, whether that is true or not.

This person sees you as being perhaps at times unwilling to open up emotionally. I think they respect you for your stoic disposition, but they think that sometimes you take this position/approach when it isn't necessary and that you actually hold yourself back a little bit in this way. Like you are a little blocked in your self-expression. Again, this is how they see you. It doesn't mean that this is actually who you are.

Pile 2: The Moon

This person thinks that you are in an incredible amount of pain underneath a calm surface. The card you picked, I just really tried to sense what it would be like to be there. Sitting next to a lake on a cloudy night. You have that smell of the freshwater and grass, and the sound of maybe a frog or two. Some light wind ruffling the surface of the lake... sitting in that setting depicted on the card it has the vibe of "something happened here and there's this weight hanging over the whole place." Like the trees are clinging to the ground so tightly because they are afraid of a strong wind knocking them down, and maybe there's a dock with a small boat that has rusted over from getting no use anymore and with no one around to take care of it or store it properly.

That's how they see you, as someone who has been through something, or maybe a series of things, that have deeply impacted you. And it's like you're still processing and aren't quite sure what the you that comes out the other side of all this processing is going to look like yet. This goes beyond sadness, this person sees you as grieving. Who or what I don't know, but they see you as dealing with some kind of loss. I think it could have to do with your family. Maybe you have been dealing with family troubles or grieving the loss of a family member or a family friend. Or, if it's not a literal death that you are processing, it could be that you are beginning to understand your family in a different way, a deeper way. Maybe your perspective on your family is expanding, you are understanding the pain and wounding that they have been through, and you're angry. You could be reconciling feelings of bitterness or anger towards your family with feelings of sympathy for the difficulties they have faced in their own lives.

I think this person sees that you are holding on to this pain and struggling to let it go. Maybe they sense a despondency in you, a subtle hopelessness. Not detachment so much as fear of encountering the same lessons with different people, of being hurt in the same ways again. They can feel a deep anger in you, seeing you as someone who is looking for their place in the world, wanting more than anything to feel like you belong.

This is really sad pile 2. You are so strong and this person wants to help you but they know that you have to want to get better, and they think that you don't even see the sadness, anger, and longing in yourself. They won't offer unsolicited advice, so for the time being I think they are taking the role of being a supportive friend and willing to give advice should you go to them for it.

There is some judgment coming from them. Like "why can't they just get over it" or "they are so stuck and don't even realize." It's weird, they want to help you, but they do kind of want you to lean on them as some sort of savior/hero/rescuer figure. I think they believe that you really want someone like this to come along and sort of take care of you. I'll say it again, this is how this person sees you not necessarily who you actually are, so don't get too fixated on their perspective - especially if it is not accurate. You know yourself best.

I think this person is equally invested in making you feel better as they are making themselves feel better. Maybe they think that your well-being is what they're concerned about, or this is what they're telling themselves, but really they are dealing with their own insecurities and need to feel like the hero to be worthy of love. Maybe this person is an overachiever, or highly successful for their age. They could come from a family where this was expected of them - to win.

So yeah they see you as a little bit of a damsel in distress pile 2. I don't think you need anyone to save you or are trying to signal this to people, but I do think that this person thinking that you deep down want someone to come along and sweep you off your feet has some truth to it. And I feel like I should tell you that wanting to be saved and taken care of is totally normal and human. We live in a world where it's difficult just to be a person. Dealing with deeply rooted pain while navigating the mayhem of daily living is incredibly difficult. You are doing a good job, pile 2. Maybe no one has said that to you in awhile. Keep up the good work. And, while there's nothing wrong with wishing for a knight in shining armor, remember who it is that has been saving your ass this whole time in their absence. ;)

Pile 3: The Broom and Whip

Hey pile 3! Lets get into it

This feels like someone that you had or have a romantic connection with but there was a falling out. They see you as someone who is defensive and in a lot of pain. They know that you are not the type of person to lash out and take your hurt out on other people, but they almost wish that the two of you could have it out - I just don't think that you are expressing your anger to this person. I think they could be concerned that this is eroding you mentally and emotionally, that you aren't expressing to them how you really feel.

I think you guys aren't talking right now and they are feeling this separation big time. They really want to work this out and come back together. You literally got the Lovers and the Two of Cups side by side - whoever you are asking about sees you as a soulmate, as their endgame. They are worried that this won't work out and they are trying to plan how to fix things with you, possibly asking about you to their friends or asking their own friends for advice on the situation.

This person sees how naturally cooperative you are with the people around you, how you are so willing to work with others and put your own interests aside if it benefits the majority - it's like this is just how you operate, you don't even have to think about it. They could see you as working on some kind of skill and gaining notoriety for it, gathering some attention for your diligence, attention to detail, and team-oriented attitude.

Yeah dude this person just thinks that you're it for them. The Lovers and the Two of Cups??? Come on. I think that even though this person is upset they see whatever upset is currently going on is temporary. It's like they aren't even entertaining the option or possibility that things are over over between the two of you. It will not compute in their brain.

I think this person thinks that you're pushing them away. They think that you are retreating into yourself where it's safe and keeping them at arms-reach. I think the way you are interacting with them now compared to the way you used to interact with them is very different - I think right now you are giving them friendly, polite energy but it's just a way to maneuver around them so you can keep them away. You are relying heavily on your manners to protect yourself in this situation and they can tell. They hate that you used to have so much vivaciousness when you used to talk to them and now they don't get that side of you anymore.

I do think that there is part of this person that enjoys the suspense and tortured waiting of what's going on. I think that they want to comfort and soothe you, to coax you into their arms and hold you while you hang onto them. I think this is part of a sexual fantasy of theirs as well, where they are the one to console you and then fuck the sadness out of you. They could be into BDSM type stuff, or if it's not that heavy/intense, they just want to test your limits a little bit. They like the idea of being the one to inflict some pain on you and then show you that they can make it better, that they can make you feel even better than you did before the pain even occurred.

It's hard to explain but it's not really an exotic fantasy or unusual I don't think, I'm just having a hard time putting it into words. They want to like........ stretch you? LMAO Like yeah just see... what you can take. And when they're done having their way with you, being the one who you collapse into. They want to be the person with the power to harm and to heal you. Not sure if that's your vibe but that is what I'm getting from this person. Very intense and steamy, if this is your situation then please write smut about it or something so the rest of us can live vicariously through you lol.

Take care pile 3 :)

[jetpackgeneratedcat]

It took literal months, but I finished it!!

Top left: linked universe logo

The jojo's lu logo is sooooo detailed. It is one of the things I love about Jojo's asethetic with linked universe. The detail she adds brings so much life and information about the world of Linked Universe. Great example is all the embroidery on the chain's clothing. Let's you know about civilization, that an item may be magical, etc. It is difficult to keep small details in watercolor, but I think I caught most of the main details in the painting.

Middle left: Soulful legend

This was the fourth of the images I did for the painting, and the first image I really started to get into the painting. I think legend is my favorite to paint because he makes composition so easy. The red tunic adds an easy focal point. I did learn from this that I do not like masking fluid and likely won't use it again. It added to many hard edges that I wasn't intending. Very happy with the sky!

Bottom left: Evening snack

In this image, I liked the idea that wind and sky don't know what Ramen is because their worlds don't have enough space to produce wheat. So sky and wind are super excited about this new food, while legend has no idea why they are so hyped for noodles. I also liked the idea that four found a green pepper in the ramen as a topping and is a hater (this is from a note that jojo left somewhere saying that the chain will eat anything but four in the Manga does not like green peppers, idk where this note is to link it though....). I didn't end up drawing the Ramen noodles as it was just getting too small of a scale for me to be comfortable drawing the thin lines for the noodles in.

Bottom right: Testudo

I am very hyped in the future when we see more collaborative fighting with the chain and them working together effectively. I absolutely love the scene in shifting shadows part 3 where lenged and hyrule work together with the beam and hookshot.

Middle: Legends storage

This is a reference to one of jojo's earliest works where the chain goes to legends storage for him to pick up some gear. I love that scene and I tried to put as many references as I could. The one thing I need to figure out is how I want twilight to look. I can't wrap my head around it. Need to sit down and just try out a bunch of different faces for him. My Pinterest inspo for twilight is all over the place. I want twilight to look different from time because when Malon was trying to guess who was the descendent, she did not consider twilight (she looked at wars and wind (so I typically draw time, wind, and wars looking similar). For my own personal headcannon, twilight and time are very similar in their manner (the way the walk, stand, etc) and personality (their stubbornness (as seen in sunset pt3)) but not necessarily in looks.

Middle right: Boat boys

The first image I did. I like how the water turned out, but I will not be using masking fluid for the same reasons I noted earlier. I did trace the boat (i think this is the reference [L240632 Hornet Class. J. Arthur Dixon Ltd. Beken and Son]). I do regret not doing anything creative with the boat, but I just wanted to get into painting and needed some confidence by working directly from a reference. I also forgot that legend might not be so keen to be on a boat again based on a comment jojo left in 2022 or something. I think she mentioned something in a discord event back then about legend not too willing to be on a boat again. But that doesn't really matter, I put that boy in a boat whether he likes it or not lol.

Top right: Winter storm

Second image I did for this painting. I did trace most of the horse because I do not care to learn horse anatomy (ref. [Winter Save By David Stoecklein]) Favorite part about this is the lighting on the rope from the lantern. I think it turn out well.

Top middle: Heavy armour

Third image I did for the painting and the one I realized I need to spend more time painting people in neutral or back lite lighting. But for my first time I think it is good. I really want to see what jojo does with the armour sets! I like the idea that war's armour is clean and pristine while wild's armour is rusted and beaten from the calamity. In this painting I played with adding pink to the golden armour and I liked it. In the middle picture of the collage (legends storage), you can see i added pink to time's armour.

That's everything! ❤️

[sky-is-the-limit]

How Task Force 141 would react to you breaking up with them because of their job:

Captain Price:

He’d take the news like a hit to the chest even though he’d nod as if he’d already accepted it.

The words would catch in his throat but he’d steady himself, holding onto every last thread of composure as he listened, eyes cast down on the space between you.

''I can’t blame you.'' He'd murmur, forcing a small, understanding smile. ''Not for this.''

The sadness in his blue eyes would betray him, though, no amount of practice could keep that pain out.

''Just… if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.'' His hand would linger beside yours, close but never quite reaching.

As you walked away, he wouldn’t move, not for a long while.

He would sit in the dark later that night, staring at the door, almost waiting for you to come back but deep down, he knew you wouldn’t.

Later, when he finally got into bed, he’d let the thought of you be his last and the memory of your smile his only comfort. He’d never say it aloud but part of him was already thinking about retiring.

Maybe this was it, a sign to leave it all behind, to make this mission his last and if he made it back? He’d come straight to your door, ready to give it one more try, no matter how slim the chance.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

When you told him, his face would twist with disbelief, hurt, anger all colliding into a storm he couldn’t contain.

''You knew who I was..'' He’d say, his hands running through his hair as if trying to release the frustration building inside him.

"So why now? Now when I can’t fucking imagine my life without you?"

He’d demand answers, his voice rising with each one and the hurt too raw to mask, searching your eyes like he could find a reason that made it hurt less.

In the end, when he saw the finality in your face, something inside him would deflate to leave only silence as he drove you home, his grip on the wheel seeming like it hurts and the weight of each passing second sinking deep into his bones like bullets. If not worse.

That night, he’d take out his anger on the punching bag, knuckles bruising until the pain became a welcome numbness.

After every mission, though, he’d still reach for his phone, typing anyway. 'Home safe.' It was always the same and you wouldn’t respond.

Days would pass but he’d still text, still send pictures of things he found that reminded him of you. Small things. Little pieces of you that he couldn’t let go of. He’d call, just to hear your voice even though he knew you weren’t going to pick up.

At night, in the quiet of his apartment, he’d let himself sink into the scent of you that still lingered in his sheets, imagining what it would be like to have you back even if it was just for one night.

John "Soap" MacTavish:

Johnny’s heart would shatter into pieces the moment you said it. He'd try to smile but the effort was weak, failing him completely as his chest tightened.

"I get it, lass." He’d say, eyes full of the pain he tried so hard to hide so you wouldn't feel guilty. "I’d go mad if it was you out there." But that didn’t stop the deep pit of panic from swallowing him whole.

How can he wake up or go to sleep without you?

''I just…'' He’d hesitate, tears threatening to fall. ''I can’t blame you.''

But damn it, he wanted to. He wanted to yell, to scream, to tell you not to leave, that he’d do anything, anything to make it work but he couldn’t. Not like this.

So instead, he’d pull you into his arms, letting himself feel the warmth of your body, the one thing he could hold onto even if it was just for a few more minutes. His lips would find yours, slow and desperate, tasting you like it was the last time.

One kiss would turn into two and another until you both found yourselves in bed, clinging to each other with a desperation that made it feel like the world would shatter and burn when you let go.

By morning, he’d be gone, leaving his cross on the nightstand. The only physical thing he could bear to leave behind.

He’d walk out into the early dawn, each step heavier than the last, knowing he’d left his heart back with you, a piece of himself he’d never get back. Not that he wanted to.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

He would expect it. He knew from the start that loving him would only end in pain but even though he saw it coming, nothing prepared him for how it would feel when you finally said the cursed words.

''I always knew it would end like this.'' He’d say, his tone flat but underneath it, there was a world of despair.

He wouldn’t beg nor try to change your mind. He couldn’t, not when he already knew how this story ends. Yet when you asked him to look at you, truly look at you, he’d turn his face and that’s when you’d see the truth in his eyes.

That pain that he’d buried so deep. ''I don’t expect you to wait. I don’t want you to bury me.''

He wouldn’t say anything else after that but you’d feel it in the silence that stretched between you both, that there was so much he wanted to confess to you but wouldn't dare.

He’d drive you to your friend’s place, eyes locked on the road ahead, and when he stopped, he’d glance over, just once and say, ''I’ll pack your things so you don’t have to come back.''

Before you could walk away one last time, his voice would crack just slightly. ''After you… there’s no one else.''

And that would be the last time you’d see him. He’d drive off, the emptiness of his heart trailing behind him and when you were out of sight, he’d finally let the tears fall.

[patrokleos]

Yeah, it's... hard, finding the gaps in my education as an adult. My teachers are great and took us through the curriculum and we did some current events stuff, but that left these gaps that I've had to fill in.

I recommend looking for books on the history of places or conflicts you see in the news. The first time I did that deliberately was when I picked up a book on Partition, and suddenly a lot of things made so much more sense.

Also I recommend having a relative with a special interest in world wars and the military who also had to take a high school class on how to spot propaganda. That is also useful.

US History poll

I am increasingly curious about this w/r/t the US education system, and realized I am probably an Old and my experience is not universal, so:

No bald options because I ran out of answer slots.

NUANCE NOTES: The generation labels are approximate, so go with whatever you feel captures your age most. The topics are also approximate, i.e. by "Civil Rights Movement" I mean the actual Civil Rights movement as well as anything else happening roughly the same time period (Space Race, Vietnam, Kennedy assassination, etc.) By "US History Class" I mean a class focused on American history, and not an AP or Honors class but the bog-standard core requirement of your school. (If it was not a core requirement of your school - eg because you're not a USAmerican - sorry, you don't get to play.)

I ask this because I honestly don't remember my US History class in 2002-ish covering anything that came later than the Marshall Plan, which seemed like a pretty big fucking omission.

[minimomoe]

The Little Things

AN: I was listening to Sexy to Someone by Clairo and thought of Nanami. short, fluffy drabble

You stood in front of the elevator and waited for the metal box to ascend to your floor. It was 8pm, well past office hours, but time waits for no man and you had work to finish. All that mattered now is that you were done. You could slip out of your drab work clothing and crawl into bed as soon as you got home.

You had hoped that you could ride down alone, but you found yourself holding the door open for Kento Nanami, your unrequited work crush. He swept in, his cologne filling up the air and you didn't find it nauseating in the slightest. It was clean, green, and oh so sexy.

"Thank you for waiting for me. Most people would let it close in my face."

"You're too not bad of company," you teased.

He smiled back down at you and you felt heat rush up to your face. It wasn't fair at all. He couldn't be this gorgeous with pretty brown eyes and be one of the nicest people you have ever met. You might not even make it down the elevator with how fast your heart thumped in your chest.

"So why did--"

"You look--"

You had both started talking at the same time. He laughed, apologized, and asked for you to go first.

"I was just gonna ask why are you staying so late?"

"They're pulling a lot of people from my department. Someone had to pick up the slack," he sighed. He ran his hands through his hair and it fell over in perfect tresses. How annoying. How gorgeous.

"Tell me about it. They're doing the same to us in the marketing department. The quarter's almost over so hopefully the workload will lessen."

You could do this with him. Small talk. Safe talk. There was nothing that could go wrong here. Nanami couldn't hear your heart racing in your chest. You just had to keep your cool.

"What were you going to say?" You remembered.

"Oh-- it... I don't think it matters anymore."

The handsome, suave Nanami was stuttering. You had the man stuttering. You snapped your head forward as if you were afraid you messed with the balance of the universe. He cleared his throat and looked at you once again.

"I hope that this doesn't come off... inappropriate. I think that blue looks wonderful with your complexion. And you got new glasses last week. I never got to compliment them."

Your ears were ringing. Did you hear him correctly? Nanami watched you, has kept you in his sights to know that your glasses have changed and complimented your favorite work dress. You peered up at him and his ears were flaming red. Your unrequited work crush could possibly be requited after all.

"Thank you, Mr. Nanami," you said softly with a shy smile. "It almost looks like were matching, right?"

He looked down at his own blue suit and chuckled. "It does, doesn't it."

The elevator dinged and the doors slowly slid opened. Nanami held his hand out for you to leave first and followed behind. You were keenly aware of how close he was to your body as you both said goodnight to the security guard on your way out of the building.

"Well... Good night to you too, Nanami. Try not to work yourself too hard this weekend," you waved. You started on the opposite direction before he called out your name.

"Would you... like to have a meal with me? I know a place," he asked.

You bit back a smile. Never would you have imagined that Kento of all people could get so shy. He patiently awaited your answer but you noticed his jaw tightening.

"I don't know. It's getting pretty late," you teased.

"This place is only open from 8pm to 12am. And a meal is always better with someone to eat with."

He was practically begging you to come with. You gingerly took your step towards him and his smile widened.

"I can take your bag," he offered. He slipped it off your shoulder and you softly hissed at his fingers grazing your shoulder. His eyes darkened at the sound but kept on strutting down the street. Once again, his ears were blushing and you internally squealed. To think that you were rushing to go home only to end up on a date with Nanami. Was this a date?

Only your brain to mouth filter was broken, and you actually asked the question out loud. He gave you a fond look. "I would like for it to be."

You hooked your hand around his raised arm. All this time you thought that your feelings would never be reciprocated, but it looks like you were sexy to someone after all.

M.list || Twitter || Ao3

[basilbots]

Bro if you think New Moon, before the Nexus arc where they were doing everything in their power to write him off as evil because they knew he was going to be killed off and replaced, was a worse brother than Old Moon or even anywhere close you are just straight up incorrect sorry.

First off very serious, stop downplaying Old Moon's abuse, you may not be meaning to but you are, you cannot be obtuse about why NM jokingly threatening Sun like normal siblings do all the time is okay but OM threatening the same thing when he would actually physically abuse Sun isn't okay. There is an obvious difference there and it's gross to say otherwise. Secondly more silly I am bapping you like an annoyed cat NM was around for a year and I guarantee you he was not played with Nexus in mind for the majority of it they were not in fact dropping hints that he would be evil this whole time. This is not to say New Moon was perfect, he wasn't, but literally none of the characters are. If you picked at every mistake or ruder comment a character made then they're all secretly evil and toxic (which some people actually believe looks at the Solar is evil theories). But I think it's insulting to go to people upset that their fav character was butchered and say "um actually New Moon was NEVER good" because you're biased against Nexus and want to rewrite what New Moon was actually like. Which is something that the show doesn't even support btw. Earth recently talked about how sweet New Moon was, Sun during the turning point of NM's grief arc turning into the Nexus arc admitted that New Moon up until that point was a better brother than Moon, the bulk of Nexus' horrible actions were not of him being a toxic brother it's him being an EX-brother turned villain. Which for reference is like how the og Eclipse was a toxic brother to Lunar but you would not say he was a toxic brother to Sun and Moon because the role and circumstances around how he hurt them were very different. New Moon was a very good brother that the story left turned into trying very hard to justify getting rid of so we could have our current story (Old Moon as our Moon, Dark Sun successfully having Sun kill a Moon, the dimensional discrepancy, etc).

[heyheydidjaknow]

Two in a row! We’re back in business! We aren’t going for three in a row but I do want to at least acknowledge that Dazai exists if we’re doing the bsd thing now.

Kindling

You were supposed to be fun.

He remembered the day he met you in that coffee shop. He had an hour to kill before a meeting. The shop was dead— the local schools had not been let out yet— and you stood behind the counter, eyes flickering from the clock on the wall above the door to the textbook in front of you. He had never been there before. He never had much reason to bother around largely residential areas before then. He had never seen you before. But you were nice to look at, so he approached the counter.

He liked the look you gave him. Cold, annoyed, almost indignant, desperate in the overblown way students often are: it took you a moment to remember your manners. You must have been new in town. “How may I help you?”

“One black coffee, please.” He smiled politely.

You straightened yourself up, not bothering to hide the way your gaze flitted between him, your book, the clock. “How much sugar?”

He blinked. “I said—“

“You’re not a black coffee drinker,” you answered dismissively, clearly distracted. “I’ve served three guys today already who asked for black coffee and then asked for cream and sugar and— no offense, guy— I’m so not in the mood to waste more of my time.” You picked a pencil from between the pages of your book, grabbing a notepad from your apron. “So, how much sugar, and how much cream?”

“Do you know who I am?”

You paused at that, giving him a once over. “No,” you said. “Should I?”

He stuck his hands in his pockets, an easy smile crossing his bandaged face. “No,” he replied. “You shouldn’t.”

You tapped your foot against the ground. “Fascinating. So—“

“May I ask you a question?” He nodded at the book. “How come you’re studying so hard at this time of day? It’s not midterm season already, is it?”

You looked down at the floor. “No.” Your brow furrowed. “Why is this your business, exactly?”

“It’s not.” He shrugged. “I’m just curious.”

You swallowed. “Huh.” Regret. “I’m sorry for snapping at you; I’m in a bit of a rush to get this stuff done.”

“What sort of stuff?”

You held the pencil between your forefinger and thumb, rolling it back and forth between them. “I’m helping a friend with a project. I owe him one, and he’s in a different time zone so my part is due in a couple hours.”

He went on his toes, peering over the register to read the textbook’s text. “Forensic pathology,” he noted. “Is your friend a criminologist?”

You shook your head. “A writer,” you explained. “He needs a comprehensive explanation of how corpses rot, and I’m the only one he knows with an understanding of that sort of thing.” You pursed your lips. “What he doesn’t know is that I’m taking this class as an elective and that I also have no idea how a corpse rots. But I can’t tell him that, because then I’d be letting him down, and he’s put so much trust in me and helped me so many times—“

He stopped you. “That’s all?” He held his hands behind his back. “Well, that’s simple enough. Most anyone downtown can tell you that.” His smile brightened. “How about we make a deal? If you pay for my drink and promise that this won’t take…” He looked back at the clock. It was an hour off. He wondered if you knew. “If you promise it won’t take longer than forty-five minutes, I can give you all the grisly details of human decomposition, with added notes accounting for weather, location, and time of day.”

The look of hesitant relief on your face brought him a sense of satisfaction he had not felt in a long time. You took a deep breath. “Sir,” you nodded, “you have yourself a deal.”

“Call me Osamu.”

You were easy. That was what first drew him to you. You had no reason to lie to him, so you did not. You had no reason to respect him, so you treated him like anyone else. The two of you— at least on the slice-of-life flavored stage the two of you played on— were equals, which he appreciated. Not many people offered him that luxury. The ones who did tended to disappear in the night for one reason or another, but you had no reason to, so you did not. Your problems were largely emotional. You stayed out of trouble. You were consistent. You were simple.

More important than your being simple, however, was the fact that you thought of him as a liar.

He remembered the conversation well. It was a Thursday. He had a couple hours before he was scheduled to help his newest apprentice train. The coffee shop was as slow as it always was and you, as always, stood behind it with a casual dismissiveness that would have gotten you beaten were you in different company. You had been in town long enough to know of the mafia— about a month— but had not yet accepted all of the stories you heard as true. You were recounting one of those stories to him, weight leaned against the counter as you described an incident regarding a teenager with phantom black limbs that could, without his so much as lifting a finger, murder a building’s worth of people in an instant.

“It’s bullshit, obviously.” You took a sip from your water. “I don’t get what they’re trying to prove; if they wanted to scare me, they’d come up with a half-decent lie.”

He did not have to smile around you— to you, he was nobody— but he did regardless. You were fun. “I know him,” he said. “I tutor him.”

You scoffed. “Yeah? What do you tutor him in?”

“Martial arts.” He took a sip from his coffee, which was thoroughly diluted with copious amounts of sugar and cream. You were right; it was bitter. “He’s not very good. He keeps trying to think of himself as a hand-to-hand combatant when he’s much more suited for support and has such a large inferiority complex that he loses all sense of strategy in exchange for a slavish need to validate his existence. In other words, he is close to useless.”

And, of course, you groaned tiredly. “Why are you encouraging them?” you asked. “You already know I know it’s bullshit; what kick do you get out of me already knowing?”

“I’m not lying,” he insisted, knowing you would not believe him. “I’ve been with him on hits before; a couple months ago, we killed thirty people in cold blood.”

And you laughed half-heartedly— as you should; to any regular person who did not know about how many bodies they had hidden, these claims were beyond ridiculous— and said, “Well, I knew the man that trained you, and I know he has a small dick, so what do you think of that?”

“I’m just glad to know he isn’t a pedophile.”

“Shut up and drink your coffee.”

He wondered what you thought of him sometimes. For the first week or so, you asked him questions, but you learned quickly that he was never going to give you satisfactory answers. You probably thought he was an ass, but you still talked to him like you would a peer, so he kept showing up. You must have thought he was a dick. He was sure that he was by your standards.

Once, on a Sunday, he had to attend a funeral. He had some time to kill before, so he walked into the coffee shop, clad in clothes nicer than what was typical, and ordered.

You looked him over. “You got a date?”

“No,” he replied, cheerful. “I have a funeral in an hour.”

You set his cup in front of him. “Oh. For someone you know?”

“My boss,” he explained. “He died the other day so we’re doing a service.”

“Oh.” Your brow furrowed, sympathy making way for confusion. “I’m… I’m sorry, but did you like him?”

He shrugged. “He was alright.”

“How long were you under him?”

He considered it. “A couple years?”

“Oh.” You nodded. “So enough time for your nonchalance to be weird. Cool.”

He rolled his eyes. “Well, it’s not as if he were my father.” He leaned back in his seat. “He was bound to get shot eventually; I’m just surprised it took this long.”

“He was what?”

“Shot,” he repeated. “In his sleep.”

You lowered your voice, looking around the cafe like someone would come out to shoot the two of you. “What,” you mumbled, “like an assassination?”

He nodded, looking around courteously. “Exactly. But it’s alright; they won’t stick around too long, I’m sure.”

“How come?”

He leaned his head on his hand. “I don’t imagine whoever did it could get very far out of the city. People are upset that he’s dead; I’m sure someone will lash out.”

You crossed your arms, swallowing thickly. “You know most people don’t speak so casually about people getting shot or whatever.”

“Well,” he shrugged again, “it happens often enough. It’s not like being formal is going to bring him back from the dead; who cares?”

“Don’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Aren’t you…?” You searched for the right word. “… I don’t know, shaken? He was a coworker, wasn’t he?”

He took a sip from his coffee. “Yeah.”

“So, isn’t his death a bit shocking?”

“Not really.” He snapped his fingers. “Oh, actually, that’s a lie. It means I’m in line for a promotion, and I thought I’d have to wait for him to die of a heart attack for it, so I’m happy about that.”

You cradled your head in your hands. “I don’t think you get my meaning,” you insisted. “Do you not feel anything for his death?”

He set the mug down, meeting your eyes. “No,” he repeated. “I don’t.”

Your questions were simple. “Why?”

“Because,” he answered, “His death was inevitable and his life’s impact on mine was nearly nonexistent. All he did was give me orders; why would I care if he died?

You stared at him, meeting his cold, bottomless eyes with ones aflame with passion. “You sound like a serial killer,” you said.

His smile was as vacant as the rest of him. “I feel like one.”

You were fun until you were not. If asked to identify when your relationship— acquaintanceship, friendship, whatever you called it— stopped being fun, he would point to an otherwise inconspicuous Monday morning three weeks after the funeral. The two of you were splitting a cinnamon roll. It was your break and you got a discount and you had no desire to eat a whole one. You were talking about something silly— a friend of yours had broken up with your other friend— when you had stopped in the middle of a sentence to look out the window, seemingly distracted by something. Witnessing this development, he turned to look out the window too, only to see that the scene outside— an overcast sky, street populated by people rushing on their way to work— had not, in fact, changed since he last looked out the window. “What are you looking at?” he asked.

Your words were soft, eyes transfixed on the window. “I need to buy a decent camera,” you murmured. “Or write. Or paint.”

“You want to take a picture?” He looked out the window again. The scene was still the same. “Of what?”

“Leave me alone, Osamu.”

“I’m not messing with you,” he said. “I just have no idea what you could possibly be looking at.”

“Sure you aren’t.” You gestured with your fork, not looking in his direction. “You have a reputation. I refuse to indulge you in something you’ll clown on me for.”

He sighed. “You are being so over dramatic.”

You shot him a glare. “I told you my friend’s boyfriend got stabbed last week and you said, and I quote, ‘I wish I could say the same.’”

“Yeah, but that was a joke.”

“Jokes are supposed to be funny.”

He crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. “It’s not my fault you have a lame sense of humor,” he protested. “Why won’t you tell me?”

You peeled your attention from the window. “You wanna know what I think?” You gave him a cold smile. “I think you’re so neurotically obsessed with knowing everything that whatever joy you’ll get from knowing will be totally outweighed by the amount of pleasure I get at getting to make you squirm for once.” You stuck your tongue out. “You’re the nihilist. Suffer under the weight of your ideals, dipshit.”

He raised his eyebrows at you. “Do you seriously think I can’t get you to tell me? Is this the hill you want to die on?”

“What if it is?” You crossed your arms, mimicking his pose. “What if it was really emotionally impactful to me? What if it was literally nothing and I’m just fucking with you? What, are you going to torture an answer out of me?” Your smile grew. “I get why you do this now; this is fun.”

He huffed. “You’re such a child.”

“No, you’re just easy to read.” You reached for your drink, cradling it to your chest. “Lenin gave himself a heart attack when he came to power, you know; it’s not healthy to obsess like that.”

He crossed his arms. “It was a stroke,” he grumbled. “He died of a stroke.”

“See, like that. You have issues.” You crossed your legs. “ Maybe it’d be good for you not to know.” You covered your mouth as he leaned forward and adopted an all too familiar smile. “And so help me if you try and seduce me into telling you what I saw so help me I will laugh you out of the room.”

His face soured. He stared you down, and you stared back, unphased, because why would you not? The two of you were equals as far as you were concerned; this was how you treated your peers, and despite the fact that the two of you barely knew each other in any meaningful way, you knew him enough to know what the rules of the game he was trying to play were even if you did not know what it was called. “I could kill you,” he said. “I know plenty of ways to do it. I know how to make it hurt, too.”

And you, knowing you had won, replied, “You could, but you won’t. Who would serve you your coffee?”

The two of you stared each other down one last time. Finally– and mercifully, he liked to think– he looked away. “You win.” He tossed his hands up. “That’s all my cards.”

Your smile softened at the edges. “Good.” You sat up. “I’m not going to tell you what I was looking at, but I can tell you how to see it, if you want. That way you get to know but you don’t get to be all smug.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved you off. “Because I’m not allowed to win, right?”

“If I knew you weren’t going to try and rule-lawyer me, I would just tell you.”

“I spend too much time here.”

“You said it.” You set the fork and the cup down on the table. “Close your eyes.”

He groaned. “I am so not into meditation.”

“Is that backtalk I hear?”

“No, no,” he relented, closing his eyes. “I’m with it or whatever. Now what?”

Your voice lowered. “Breathe in.”

He inhaled.

“And out.”

He exhaled.

“Now,” you continued, “what do you hear?”

“You talking to me.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“You asked.”

You huffed. “I– look, besides me, what do you hear?”

He paused, considering it. “People outside,” he said. “And the air conditioning unit. And the milk steamer.”

“Good.” He heard you sit back in your seat again. “And physically, what do you feel?”

“Isn’t this a panic attack thing?”

“Answer my question.”

He considered it. “It’s cold in here.”

Your voice was soft. He wondered how exactly this place stayed in business for how quiet it was. “What do you taste?”

“For giving someone who was just talking about flirting–”

“I have a point. What do you taste?”

He meant to say, ‘My mouth.’ What came out was, “Cinnamon and icing.”

He heard you smile. “Good. Open your eyes.”

He did, blinking at the light. You were back to looking out the window; the scene had not changed.

You nodded towards it. “Now, look and tell me what you see.”

He looked between you and the window. “A tree,” he said. “And people.”

“Look at the tree, first.”

The tree itself was, by his estimation, the same sort of tree that could be found just about anywhere in this part of town. There were fewer as the years went on, he knew– there was some government initiative to get rid of the trees on the side streets– but the tree itself was unextraordinary. “It’s dead,” he noted.

Your eyes didn’t leave the window. “It’s overcast.” You sounded a million miles away. “The light from the sun is hitting it from the other side, so the side that we’re on is dull and dark. It’s casting a shadow on the table, on your face.”

He looked down at the table. Sure enough, in the low light, cold shadows laid across the table like faint veins.

“The people,” you continued. “What do you see in them?”

He shifted his attention to the passersby. “People going to work.”

“How are they dressed?”

“Warmly.”

“What color are their clothes?”

“Dark. Are we at the point yet?”

“Almost.” You took a breath of your own. “Now, take all of those things together, and look back out the window again.”

He did.

Nothing had changed. His heart caught in his throat.

“It’s more now, isn’t it?”

He looked back at you.

You witnessed that mundane scene with the seeming awe of an acolyte before their god. It was as though you had never seen a street or a tree or the sun before, as though you would never see it again.

With a horrifying ache in his chest, he realized that he had never seen anything quite so beautiful or enviable as you in that moment. “So,” he asked again, voice tinged with an entirely unbecoming and uncharacteristic reverence, “what are you looking at?”

“I’m not looking at anything,” you replied. “I just remembered how lucky I am to be alive, here, with you.”

He wondered if you would mourn for his indifference like he would.

[gelu-the-babosa-multiversal]

The idea of Heatwave being a Wavewave sparkling but mainly from Soundwave tears me up. So I'll submit you all to my PAIN!!!

The idea of Soundwave growing up in the pits, fighting for his life, becoming a top gladiator but still being seen as the lowest of the lowest, but then, this Sparkling appears in his life. A little red bot who seemingly was abandoned or was not picked when it emerged from the All Spark.

That being their first meeting, Soundwave was not yet the Soundwave we know so he didn't know what to do. His best hope was that the little bot would end just like him, surviving on its own... or just die with no pain. After all, there was no one else but him, just him, and Ravage too ofc but really no one else...

So, imagine how stupid must he have felt as he took the sparkling from the ground and was unable to put it down. Ravage in the background wheezing as she realizes what has happened ¨Oh yea, that's how I adopted you too HAHAHAHAH¨

And things well get hard. Why did he do it? Was it some left kindness on him? Did he lose his mind? or maybe, he just compasioned...?

Time passes, he keeps fighting, Ravage keeps being annoying but is still there for him, and the Sparkling now going by the name Heatwave, was there too looking from afar. Soundwave had decided that the little Bot would not participate in the arena, he would just watch and learn.

Heatwave was amazed at the way his ¨creator¨ fought other bots who were bigger than him and much more robust in comparison. Tho he didn't wish to become a gladiator just like his creator, but he still wanted to show how strong he was helping others.

Time passes, they're a small ¨family¨ for all they can say, but they are very strong and united. In every fight, Soundwave participates in the entertainment of the upper classes, he kept in reserve credits so that one day Heatwave can leave the pits and form a real life outside the misery. It would of course be a slow process, but Soundwave knew that he could do it.

A big surprise was when Heatwave shared with him that he wanted to become a Rescue Bot, a particular job that didn't really fit in any of the class rankings that Cybertron had been using... it was a job that came with intense training that if failed, all the blame would go to the bot who failed and not to the institution who trained them. A job that was more chosen to do for the pure of one spark than the want to win something. Such was that it was known that the High Council would prefer losing 5 Rescue Bot units than one Council member.

The job was clearly going to be a dead sentence, but after a long discussion, there were not many options like the Rescue recruit institutions offered to give a semi-normal life to low-class citizens... at least, for the time Heatwave would be trained he would have a home with basic needs, and once out of training and to the practice, the payment would be enough to even feed Ravage.

Soundwave still didn't want to say yes. to give Heatwave permission, but, Heatwave was just hotheaded, he was promising that with this he would be able to give Soundwave the life he could not grow up with... the life he gave to Heatwave...

Soundwave still saved credits as he kept participating in the arena, just in case.

Time seemed to fly through this change. Heatwave met his assigned team and close friends, Soundwave met new bots too, aspiring and strong allies for both of them. Yet, their ideals seemed to change as their lives grow appart.

They still saw each other, they kept communicating, and Ravage always reminded one or the other to call. But things just can't stay calm forever. The pits and many parts of Cybertron considered for the lower cast were being destroyed, homes and families being displeased so the upper class could take those areas. Slowly, a revolution was being armed with strong bots taking the lead. One in particular, Megatronus, wanted Soundwave as his second in command as he saw potential in him.

Soundwave wanted to decline at first. This could endanger Heatwave in many levels if it was known that they both were family. Megatronus seemed to understand, and it seemed that someone else would take Soundwave's place as SIC... is it wasn't for that one call...

The call that changed forever Soundwave's perspective on life and on his own decisions. It was from the Rescue recruitment system that chose Heatwave informing him of... the red bot dead, with the rest of his team...

Rescue Sigma-17 had been deployed to help another unit very far away, and as it seemed that the job was being completed, the communication began to cut. In short, all signals were lost and no vital was detected. Both units had been gone enough time to be declared deceased...

There was not going to be any effort on further location or send a 3 unit with more equipment to help or to at least know what happened. There was not going to be any effort on finding Heatwave's body for a proper funeral, his stuff as the stuff of his team would be tossed or given to their creators. That being said, Soundwave and Ravage received nothing but a big box full of credits, enough to live a luxurious life in the middle class...

It had a note from Heatwave. Just like Soundwave was saving for an emergency, Heatwave had been doing the same. Probably not eating or working extra to have this amount of credits...

... Soundwave tossed all that in their faces not accepting a damn. As fast as he could he went to Megatronus and began their plan to attack...

...

...

...

At light years far away, after more tragedy had occurred. A small ship floating in the middle of nothing received a message that redirected t it to a planet called Earth.

Landing, four bots from stasis had awakened to see the beauty of an organic planet and to encounter a figure not many would be able to talk to, Optimus Prime.

[efingart]

Fic request 🥺👉👈

In Bo6 they kind skated over Alder and Woods’ friendship and I wanna see more. Could you write a little fic of them interacting?

Hey anon! Thank you for this request!! 💙

This was so very interesting. Both of these guys have these huge emotional walls up. I imagine friends are a challenging thing for both of them to make and keep. Not exactly the type to talk about their emotions. Which is great I love when everything is just under the surface. I think I'd like to write another one of these from Adler's perspective to see how it goes.

Frank lit a cigarette and stared out at the dark water. He often took to doing this at night when the Safehouse began to quiet down. He thought about his team. Felix and Sev had been arguing earlier, but he could now hear their laughter travel from the kitchen. He was sure Troy was upstairs reading over a letter from Terry, working over his next move in their correspondence chess game. The same move he'd been mulling over before they had to cut and run. The soft sounds of the TV news must have meant Case was on the couch likely dozing off. The guy pushed himself too hard.

Frank stuck the cigarette between his lips and rubbed the tops of his knees or what was left of them. It had become a habit of his, one he didn’t like too much when he realized he was doing it. Reminded him of some of the old guys he had met over the years. Always talking about their aches and pains. He was sidelined sure, permanent desk duty yeah, but he didn’t feel like an old guy. Neither he nor Alex had ever seemed old to him. An ache clenched at his heart as he thought about Al. Al would never be an old guy. They would never be those crusty old vets sitting at the VFW drinking beers and talking about the good old times.

He pressed his thumb against one eye and reached across the bridge of his nose with his forefinger, the pad of his finger against his closed lid. He dragged his fingers across his skin bringing them together to pinch the bridge of his nose. Footsteps on stone behind him, he quickly moved his hand away from his eyes to pluck the cigarette from his mouth. He knew from the confident footfalls that it was Adler.

Adler already had a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. He cradled a mug in one large hand which from the smell of it contained some of Felix’s stew.

“Figure out Felix’s mystery meat yet?” Frank joked. Adler stirred the contents with his spoon and inspected a white chunk. “Best guess is rabbit.” “Probably a good guess.” “Let’s just say I’m not about to ask him to confirm it.” Frank chuckled at that.

Adler tucked his cigarette between two fingers and picked up his spoon again. Steam trailed from the mug only to be quickly swept away by the sea breeze. The silence between them lasted until Frank’s cigarette was just a nub. He stubbed it out on the railing and flicked it away. Then he winced. Another bad habit. He remembered the last time he visited David the kid had given him a lecture about recycling and putting his cigarette butts in the trash instead of tossing them on the ground. He even showed Frank some cartoon about it. A blue guy fighting pollution… or something. If it made the kid happy he was willing to do it. He wondered if Adler's kids watched the same show. Adler certainly didn't care about where he tossed his old cigarette butts.

Adler finished his stew and went back inside without a word. Frank thought he was alone again, but before long Adler was back carrying two beers by the neck between his fingers. He handed one to Frank who popped the cap off against the railing and took a swig. Then he examined the label on the bottle. “Gotta clear our names so we can get back to the States and get some real beer.” Adler nodded and tapped the neck of his bottle to Frank’s. “Drink to that.”

A silence passed between them. That was one thing Frank liked about Adler- he never needed to just talk. He was comfortable with quiet. Some guys jabbered on and on. Talking about nothing. Filling the air with words so they wouldn’t have to sit with whatever they were dealing with in their heads. He tried to picture himself and Adler at the VFW sharing a beer and laughing about the old times. Maybe it’d happen. Never in a million years did he think it'd be the two of them that were left. Everyone else was gone, but not them.

“See you dusted that old thing off,” Adler said pointing with his beer hand at Frank’s bandana. It pulled him from his thoughts. He touched the cloth that covered his forehead.

“Yeah, helps me keep my head in the game… Or something.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he noted Adler adjusting his sunglasses. He rarely ever took them off, even at night. Frank had always suspected they might be corrective. But either way, they all had their things. The objects that made them feel more like themselves. And maybe acted as a barrier between them and the rest of the world. It was how they could stay so tough in tricky situations. Keep their cool.

“Guys like us can never leave this.” “Nope,” Frank agreed. Adler cleared his throat before lighting another cigarette. He was always a chain smoker and, of course, most guys liked to have a cigarette with a beer. But he knew Adler well enough, worked with him long enough that even though he put up a front he had his tells. They were just harder to see in him than other people. Frank knew he was stalling.

“Something on your mind?” Adler let out a soft hah!. “Come on you’re not exactly as mysterious as you like to pretend.” Frank nudged Adler’s side with his elbow. He cleared his throat again. “Just wanted to say thanks,” Adler said more to the sea than to Frank. The confidence in his voice never faltered. Always the arrogant bastard. Frank had to admit he liked that about him too.

“For what?” Frank asked with a laugh. He knew the answer. Adler was grateful Frank believed him. Not just to help him, but it made a difference to know there was someone in the world who had his back. Even a guy like Adler needed that comfort sometimes.

“You’re not gonna start getting emotional on me are you?” He asked.

Adler chuckled in response. Then he stabbed out his cigarette on the railing and flicked it over the edge.

taglist opt-in/out

@imagoddamnonionmason @deadbranch @sparklight1242 @revnah1406 @alypink @mango-parfait @jdnova1521 @alexa-mwll @tacticalanxiety @courtana @cloudofbutterflies92 @justasmolbard @artbygem @cyberghostdraws @direwolfspostsrandomshit , @socially-awkward-skeleton @welldonekhushi @islandtarochips @sagitamds @adlerboi @kithauk @elyseenmiel @guigz1-coldwar @frankwoods @writeforfandoms @eccentrcks @kaitaiga @walder-138 @voltac @hollywood-is-bleeding @iamcautiouslyoptimistic @fw-priyanshu

[intuitive-revelations]

Headcanon: one of the reasons why Gallifreyan is a) so complex, and b) so inconsistent, is because it's less one language and more a complex mishmash of thousands of languages and dialects.

Think about how one of the reasons English can be complex to learn is because of the mix of Germanic and romance language roots, and now take it up to 11.

While one might expect Gallifrey to be monolingual, given its age and class structure, this probably isn't technically the case. After all, why limit your culture to one language when the average citizen is effectively panlingual (to the point that TARDIS translation circuits are actually dependent on their pilots' knowledge, rather than the other way round)?

Thus, if there once were distinct languages on Gallifrey, they probably have all been merged at this point into modern Gallifrey's super-Esperanto. Add in loan words from notable civilisations across all of spacetime (but likely primarily from Gallifreyan colonies and allies like Dronid, Minyos, Cartego etc.), and it quickly becomes quite unwieldy.

It's also likely that there's a lot of overlap between these sub-languages, which can make distinguishing meaning hard to an outsider. Gallifreyans likely get around this courtesy of their telepathic connections.

TBH, given Time Lord sensibilities, it's likely that every single word variation has its own delicate meanings, derived not just from their societal uses but also from the etymology and history of each one. Canonically (though I don't have a source) we know that there are 30 different words meaning "culture shock", for example, which likely have very minor distinctions in meaning. We also know, unsurprisingly, that there's at least 208 tenses to help in describing time travel.

As an example - imagine being a Sunari ambassador at an embassy gathering and accidentally offending every Time Lord in the room because you accidentally used a definite article derived from the memeovored Old High Tersuran colony dialect, now considered low-brow by association with modern Tersuran, when you intended to use a nearly identical form of the word originating from the Founding Conflict, a triumphant post-Rassilonian intervention, distinguished by a near-imperceptible glottal stop.

It's likely that some of these Gallifreyan sub-languages/dialects may still be spoken with increased frequency under certain conditions, such as in one's own House or when visiting other city complexes. We know, for example, that Arcadia seems to be associated with a "Northern English" accent (which Nine picked up subconsciously post-regeneration, with the Fall of Arcadia being one of the last things the War Doctor remembered before DOTD's multi-Doctor event - hence "lots of planets have a north") when translated, which may indicate some dialect differences in the original language. I suspect there is a societal expectation for Gallifreyans to code-switch depending on the situation, with Citadel business generally expecting the Gallifreyan equivalent of RP, though it's relatively common for Time Lords less concerned with respectability and politicking to not comply.

One nice benefit of all this complexity, and the reason I made this post, is that there's a good argument to be made that every fan attempt to construct a Gallifreyan language can be 'canon', contradictions and all.

Greencook Gallifreyan? A formal evolution of Pythian prophecy scripture into the post-Intuitive Revelation era (based on its similarities with the Visionary's scrawling in The End of Time).

Sherman Gallifreyan? A modern katakana-like phonetic alphabet for the rapid-onslaught of new loan words following President Romana's open academy policies. Recently adopted by the Fifteenth Doctor for writing human proverbs.

Teegarden Gallifreyan? An archaic but recognisable near-Capitolian dialect from the Prydonian mountains, once spoken by Oldblood houses like Lungbarrow and Blyledge.

Or, in a nutshell, the state of Gallifreyan conlangs (and maybe in-universe Gallifreyan dialects):

I guess the dream project would be to accept the complexity and create some sort of grand modular "meta-Gallifreyan" conlang, merging as many fan interpretations as possible with their own distinctions and overlaps, that can continue to be updated as new ideas come up and new stories are released...

[samandcolbyownme]

@bambisturnioloalt ‘s 𝐍𝐎 𝐍𝐔𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓!

I have chosen to write a Matt Sturniolo angsty fic. I also want to give a shoutout to @cursedtriplets for helping me come up with the idea. Enjoy! 🖤

Summary: Things go downhill, and downhill fast when reader catches their crushes girlfriend cheating on him at a party.

Warnings: strong language, angsty, partying, drinking alcohol, blackmail, mentions of cheating, reader being sad, angry, all of the emotions, slight arguing, friends to lovers, happy ending

Word Count: 6.3k

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The news about Matt getting a girlfriend hit you hard, it felt like salt to a stab wound - the stab wound being you not saying anything sooner.

Her name was Scarlett, but everyone called her Letty, per her request.

The first time you met her, it was kind of awkward. She didn’t really say much of anything and you felt judgment radiating off of her, but you seemed to be the only one to pick up on that because no one said anything after she left.

Over the next few weeks of her meeting everyone, she really opened up. It was almost like she became a totally different person, a bitch if you will.

She would glare at you when you would say anything involving Matt, or even glance in his general direction.

For example, the one night you all ordered in and decided to just hang out at their house. Nick and Chris were going around telling stories about Matt, you know, trying to embarrass the new boyfriend, and she was laughing and going along with it for the most part.

But, as soon as you opened your mouth to tell the story about how they took you to top golf one time and Matt almost fell over the edge, she changed the subject, suddenly wanting to start the first movie of the night.

You brushed it off, along with the other hundreds of little things she’s done within the time she was there.

“Hey.” You whisper as you sit down next to Nick on the couch, “Are you busy?”

He shakes his head, glancing up at you from his phone, “Why are we whispering?”

“Because I don’t wa-“

You stop talking as Matt and Letty come out from his room, “Hey, I’m taking her home. I’ll be back in a little.”

“Nice seeing you Letty.” Nick smiles and she waves, giving him a big cheery smile back, “Bye Nick!” She glances over at you and pulls Matt with her down the steps.

You wait for the door to close and you head snaps towards Nick, “Did you see that?” He shrugs, shaking his head, “See what? How she didn’t say bye to you?”

“Yeah, and how she just looked at me.” You shake your head, “I don’t.. I don’t think she’s really good for Matt.”

“When I ask you this, I’m not trying to make you mad or anything, okay.” Nick looks at you and you nod, “I won’t get mad.”

He raises his brows and lets out a sigh, “Are you saying this because you’re jealous she’s dating Matt?”

“N-no. I’m not.. jealous.. why would you even ask that? I’m asking because she doesn’t seem to accept that I’m one of Matt’s best friends.”

“Why do you think that?” Nick tilts his head and you sigh, trying to regulate your anger from growing into something bigger, “Every time I’m around you guys she’s all over him, and when I try to tell a story about Matt, she cuts me off and practically begs to go home.”

You snap, “That time you and Chris were telling stories about Matt, she was all giggly and going along with it, but as soon as I spoke up to say about how he almost fell off the ledge at top golf, she magically wanted to start the movie night.”

Nick sits there in silence and you tilt your head, “I’m not jealous of Letty. Okay. I’m just.. looking out for Matt, he deserves someone who isn’t going to use him for.. looking better.”

“You think.. Letty.. is using Matt for clout?” Nick’s brows furrow and he shakes his head, “I think they really like each other. She’s a total sweetheart, y/n. I think you just-“

“If you say I have unresolved problems, I am going to smack you upside the head.” You glare at him and he tries not to laugh, “I’m just saying, that you need to look at the bigger picture. Matt seems to be happy, and he’s a big boy, he can handle himself.”

You chew on your cheek, not really wanting to argue, “Yeah. You’re right.” You stand up, walking over to the hook to grab your keys, “I’ll see you later.”

“Y/n.” Nick groans, “Wait, I didn’t mean- you said you wouldn’t get mad!”

You look over at him, “You didn’t do anything, Nick. It’s good, we’re good. Just please, don’t say anything to him.”

He nods and you give him a small smile, “Thank you.”

You walk down the steps and you glance up, seeing Nick staring down at you from over the ledge, “Do you like Matt?”

“Bye, Nick.” You laugh and walk out of the front door to your car. You stop when you see Matt pull in next to you, but you force yourself to just walk to your car.

“Hey. Leaving so soon?” He asks as he gets out, and you glance back at him, giving him a nod, “Yeah, I have to go shopping for an outfit for this party.”

That was a lie. You already had one.

“Oh, okay.” Matt nods, tapping the top of his car, “Well, have fun.” As you open your door to get in, Matt walks up to you, “Wait. Before you go..” he pauses and you look up at him, “What’s up?”

You can feel the anger building up inside of you, wanting to burst out from him not seeing just how bad his longest best friend is being treated by someone he just met.

“What do you think of Letty?”

The words made your skin scrawl, you wanted to just get in your car and drive away without having to answer that question, but you had more respect for Matt than that.

“I think.. she’s pretty.” You laugh slightly, which causes him to laugh, “Yeah. Yeah, she is.”

You swallow what you really want to say, tilting your head as you rest your arm on the top of your car, “I think she’s good for you, Matt.” You shrug, “I mean, we all just met her, not at that long ago, but I think it’s going good.”

He gives you a slightly weird look, but nods, “Yeah, I’m just glad that everyone gets along. It would be pretty weird if we didn’t, you know?”

You stifle back a laugh, “I think it’s all good. Going good. Um..” you point to your car, “I’m going to be late for picking up Gabs, so.. I better..”

“Yeah yeah, you’re good.” He smiles, tapping your car, “I’ll see you later.”

“Are you going to the party tomorrow?”

He turns around, shaking his head, “Not my scene, but you have fun though. Call if you need anything, alright?”

“Yeah.” You nod, “I will.” You get into your car, glancing up as Matt walks into his house and you let out a sigh, allowing the self ass kicking to begin.

I lied to Matt, I never lie to Matt. Wait, I’ve lied about having feelings for him. Pretending everything is super platonic between us- Why can’t I just be honest with him? Fucking Christ.

A part of you was terrified to even say anything about your feelings towards him in the first place. You were, still are, scared it would affect the perfect, well, almost perfect relationship you have now. You haven’t ever really lied to Matt, the only time you really did lie, was when you were planning a surprise party for him and his brothers.

Besides, Matt showed absolutely no interest in being with you in anyway more than a friend. All of his actions were consistent, nothing more nothing less.

Your mind stays busy and loud the whole way to your house, from Matt, to your conversation with Nick before you left, to every interaction you’ve had with Letty, and then the upcoming party.

You were really banking on getting so fucked up at this party that you just forget about everything for a while.

You needed a mental break.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Since you got home yesterday, Nick texted you a few times to make sure you weren’t actually mad at him, and you weren’t.

He clocked you on your shit, why would you be mad at him for being right about that?

You were jealous. You are jealous.

You’re jealous of a girl who has what you’ve wanted for so, so long, but at the end of the day, it comes down to being no one fault but your own.

For keeping your feelings in a block of cement in the back of your mind.

Your phone chimes, and you let out a sigh, half expecting it to be another just making sure we’re good text from Nick, but it wasn’t. It was Gabbie, You still going tonight? I’ll pick you up around eight.

You tap the screen, giving her a short and sweet answer, So ready to get wasted.

You toss your phone down and head to the bathroom for a shower. You took your time with it, then getting out and blow drying your hair before making your way to get dressed.

As you sat down at your vanity to do your makeup, your phone chimes and you glance back, shaking it off before turning back to continue your makeup. After a minute or so, the second notification goes off.

You groan, spinning around and leaning forward to grab it. To your surprise, it’s a text from Matt, Hey, Letty is going to this party tonight, do you think you can look out for her? She said she’d be fine, but she’s told me stories of her and alcohol not being friends and I just worry.

“Oh great, so now I’m a babysitter?” You scoff, rolling your eyes as you type back, Yeah, I’ll watch out for her.

He texts back a quick thanks, and you return to finish getting ready.

Finally, after finishing your makeup, you were ready and Gabbie was just pulling up. You walk out, getting into her car, “Guess what duty I have tonight.”

“Oh no. What?” Gabbie looks over at you as you buckle and you scoff, “Fucking babysitting duty.”

“For who!?”

“Matt, well. Letty.” You roll your eyes, “He texted me and asked me to watch out for her since he isn’t going to be there. I don’t know.” You look over at her, “Something doesn’t feel right about it.”

“Yeah, that’s a little sketchy.” She nods, “Why doesn’t Matt just go?”

“Says it’s not his scene, which, I get. He isn’t big into parties.. never has been, really.”

“How’s that situation going?” Gabbie asks, “The whole, you having feeling for M-“

“It’s not.” You cut her off, “So yesterday, before I left their house, I tried bringing it up to Nick but he just called me out on the truth and I didn’t want to accept the truth, so I just left. He keeps asking if we’re good, and I keep telling him yeah, which isn’t a lie, I’m just..” you stop, taking a breather, “I’m just pissed at myself for letting something I could have potentially gotten, go.”

Gabbie nods, “Tonight is your night to just let go. Do what you want. Drink what you want. I’ll keep a lookout for Letty, you just have fun and focus on you.”

“Thanks, but if something happens to her, godforbid it’ll fall back on me somehow.” You shake your head, “I can only hope that she just decides to stay home.”

But that wasn’t the case.

She was there, almost all of her was there.

She showed up in this super tight dress that barely covered anything. Two post its and a corn chip would suffice better than this dress, one wrong move and out comes a boob.

“I wonder if Matt knows she’s wearing that.” You swallow as you look at Gabbie, “I wouldn’t wear that even if he was with me, you know?”

“Just like you said a few days ago, y/n. You have more respect for him than she does.” She takes your hand into hers, “Come on. She’ll be fine.”

Over the next hour, the party grew larger and your urge to be there grew smaller.

You tried pushing through, but Matt was heavy on your mind. He was like welded into it, nothing could push past it.

She doesn’t deserve him.

He’s too good for her, hell he’s too good for me, even.

“Hey.” Gabbie snaps you from your thoughts, “Come with me to the bathroom?” You nod, taking her hand and following her up the steps.

You haven’t seen Letty in a little while, as soon as she showed up she blended into the crowd with the other petty snobs.

“Wait.” You whisper, pulling Gabbie to a halt, “Listen.”

“I thought you had a boyfriend, Scar.” A guy’s voice breathes out, “Fuck, you’re so pretty.” You furrow your brows and step closer to the door that’s cracked open.

“I do, but do you see him anywhere?” Letty giggles and your heart sinks into your ass. You look at Gabbie a she shakes her head as she mouths, “I’m gonna fucking kill her for you.”

You hold your hand up as Letty giggles, “I like Matt, don’t get me wrong, but there’s just something about him that I like more. Something that will.. help me in the long run.”

“Oh yeah?” The guy chuckles, “What’s that?”

“His fame. His followers. Once they upload the video of me in it, I’m bound to get some of his followers, right? And then you know what will happen after that.” She laughs and the sound of making out ensues, “More fame for me.”

A few people come up the steps and you panic, pushing Gabbie into the bathroom. You flip the lock on the knob and press your ear to the door.

“There the fuck you are!” The one guy slurs, “Come on, it’s pong time!”

“You guys go, I’ll be right down.” The same guy from the room answers, “I have to finish something first.” You hear Letty speak up, “No it’s okay. We can go down now. We can always finish this later.”

You rest your forehead against the door and close your eyes.

“Y/n?” Gabbie grabs your shoulder and you turn around to look at her, “What are you doing?”

“I have to tell Matt.”

She nods, “Yeah, I-“

There’s a knock on the door and you panic again, “U-uh, one second!” You press your finger to your lips and point to the shower.

Gabbie nods, immediately stepping into it as quietly as she can as you flush the toilet. You turn the water on, letting it run for a few seconds as you make sure the curtains on the shower is fully closed like it was before.

Another knock sounds and you sigh, turning off the water, “I said one se-“ you open the door and see Letty standing there, “Hi, you and I have to have a chat.”

“About what?” You tilt your head and she smirks, leaning in to look into the bathroom, “I know you like Matt.”

You shake your head, “What would make you think that I like Matt?”

“Stop being stupid, y/n. I see the way you look at him, talk about it. It’s pretty obvious, well..” she laughs slightly, “I guess, not to everyone because if Matt knew how you felt about him, you’d be with him.. or maybe.. you wouldn’t.”

“What are you talking about, Letty?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. I know how strong of a friendship you have with the triplets, and frankly, I don’t like it.”

“You don’t like that you’re not the only one they give their attention to.” You scoff, “Don’t play dumb with me.”

“Alright, fine. You want to cut to the chase, well cut to the chase. Matt will believe anything I say. You try and tell him what you heard and saw up here, I will make your life a living hell, got it?”

“And just how do you plan on doing that?” You shrug, “What, are you going to go to Matt first and tell him that I’m on my way to tell him that I caught you fucking cheating on him?” You shake your head, “He doesn’t deserve that. Any of it.”

“No, no. Because you aren’t going to breathe a word about tonight.”

“What makes you think that I won’t?”

She squints, a smirk spreading across her lips, “Because they’re all you have anymore. I mean, Jesus Christ, y/n. You’re always up their ass. At their house. In their car. If it wasn’t for them, you wouldn’t have anything but a low paying job in the worst part of town.”

“That’s not true.” You swallow your tears, fighting back the urge to lash out, hard, “I grew up with them. I’ve known them a hell of a lot longer than you have.”

She shrugs, “Maybe. But, all I know is that you aren’t going to say anything to anyone about this, or else I’ll tell Matt that you are so in love with him that you tried talking me out of being with him for your own personal gain. I mean, there’s a reason you haven’t told him, right?” She laughs, “Afraid of losing him and his brothers, because again, they’re all you have. Plus, it’ll be so weird being around you, to sit there and see you sulking all the time even though they’ll try to push past it because they’ll feel bad for you.”

A sad part of you felt like she was right, no matter how hard you tried to not believe it, you knew that there was a high chance that it would ruin everyone’s relationship with you and make it awkward as hell.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” She laughs and you look at her, “More like bitch, but whatever works for you.”

Her face falls and she puts her hand on the door while leaning in, “You have three options here, y/n. You can just act like nothing happened tonight. Come clean about your feelings for Matt to see who he chooses, or you call Matt, tell him what you saw, but without proof, who do you think he’ll believe?”

“You’re such a fucking bitch.”

“Yeah, I might be, but who’s fucking Matt almost every night, huh?” She smirks and steps back, “Well, it was fun. But I have to leave soon, I told Matt that I’d come over after this party. You think he’ll like my dress?”

She waits for you to answer and you snicker, “Doubt it.”

“But there’s so little to take off. I’m sure he’ll like the easy access, yeah?” She tilts her head while pouring, “Oh right, you don’t know that side of him. What a shame.”

You roll your eyes, “So what. I don’t tell Matt about what I saw and you won’t tell him what you think you know? I can just deny it, did you ever think about that?”

“Hmm. I guess you have a point. But, you’re good at acting, so either way, I’m sure you’ll make it out unscathed.” She smirks, lifting her hand, “See you tomorrow for game night.���

Fuck. Game night.

You watch her walk away and you slam the door, taking a step back to assess what just happened.

Gabbie whips the curtain back and stands there staring at you, “are.. you okay?” You shrug, shaking your head, “If I could just magically push away this anxiety about my feelings for Matt and tell him, I would but I just.. god I fucking hate that bitch.”

You move to sit on the edge of the tub, “What the fuck do I do? I can’t just lie to Matt about something like this.. if he finds out I knew about this.. the only thing I’ll be kissing is my friendship with him goodbye, and everything Letty said will be true.”

“It won’t. Okay.” Gabbie sits next to you, “You want to know why?”

You look at her, giving her a nod.

She pulls her phone up, “I recorded most of that.”

You snatch the phone from her hand, “You did not!” A hand raises to cover your mouth as you listen to the recording.

“I’ll send it to you, so when you’re ready, you can use that as your proof. Fuck that bitch.” Gabbie shakes her head, “She must have got her audacity on sale because that was not it.”

You nod, “I agree.” You look over at her, “Want to go get something to eat? I need to leave this party.”

She nods, “Let’s go.”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

You tossed and turned all night. You couldn’t stop thinking about the encounter you had at last nights party. The more you thought about it, the more it made you feel sick. Your anxiety just kept getting worse and worse.

What if Matt doesn’t believe me, even with proof, you can’t see anything so what if he thinks it’s fake?

What if Letty does tell Matt and he just blocks me?

What if-

“Y/n?” Gabbie taps your hand, “What’s going on, you’ve barely touched your breakfast.”

“I’m just.. thinking..” you bring your cup up to your lips, taking a sip before setting it back down, “What if Letty has him so wrapped around his finger that he’s just so blinded by her to not even-“

“You’re getting a head of yourself.” Gabbie sighs, “You need to think about what you want to do about your feelings for Matt, first. Okay?”

You nod, covering your face with your hands, “I’m so in love with him, but the fear of being rejected by him is just so.. loud, higher? Whatever the term.. is, I don’t fucking know.”

“I think Matt will be more understanding than you think.”

You look at Gabbie through your fingers, “You’re just saying that.” She shakes her head, “I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit. You’ve been around them for so long, this is what.. Matt’s first girlfriend in how long?”

“What are you trying to say?” You tilt your head, resting your hands in your lap, and she sighs, shifting towards you, “What I’m trying to say is.. what if Matt was waiting for you, but you didn’t say anything, so he tried to move on?”

“Do you think that’s a possibility?”

She shrugs, “I definitely wouldn’t write it off just yet. I mean, you haven’t dated either, you’ve talked to guys, but why do they never work out?”

“Because they aren’t.. Matt..” you look at her and she nods, “Exactly. I don’t think this thing with Letty will last long anyway. You just need to get your shit together before storming in there and spewing out shit that doesn’t even make sense, you know?”

You nod, tilting your head to look out of the window, “Yeah, I know. I want to tell him. I just get so nervous around him, he makes me feel, I don’t know, like that happy giddy feeling? I just don’t want that to go away, I don’t want it ruined.”

You take a deep breath, “I don’t know, there’s just so many what ifs I just-“ you look down at your phone, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What?” Gabbie leans over, “Is that Letty?”

You roll your eyes, reading over the text, Hey bestie, just reminding you of our little deal that we have. Last night got a little crazy, not sure how much you drank to try and forget about it.

You tap the screen fast, I’m not gonna lie you have a lot of red flags.

She instantly answers and you laugh as you read it, like what?

“This bitch, I swear to god.” You mumble showing Gabbie your phone, “She’s literally fucking insane.” You nod, “That’s what I’m telling her.”

You type back, well firstly, you’re actually insane.. and two, you just can’t blackmail someone to get your way. It’s not going to end well for you.

You see the chat bubbles popping up and down and you shake your head, “I swear to god.” Your eyes move across her text, think of it as you scratch my back, I scratch yours. You don’t tell Matt, and you get to keep the only good thing you have in your life.

“I’m telling Matt.”

The words tastes sour on your tongue, but you knew it was the right thing to do, “Fuck, I could puke.” You run your sweaty palms down your thighs, “Oh fuck, Gabbie. How do I- what do I-“

You look at the new text, Just play it safe tonight, don’t talk to him, dont talk about him, don’t even look at him, why can’t you like Chris or something, god. It would make everyone’s lives so much easier.

“Just play it safe tonight.” You mock her, “Go fuck yourself.”

“Maybe you should wait another day. You don’t seem.. I don’t know how to put-“

“Stable enough?”

“Yeah.” She laughs slightly, “Stable enough to do this yet.”

You shake your head, “I feel like puking being in the same room as her knowing she can flip my world upside down at any second. But then, if I don’t tell Matt, that just makes it seem like I was condoning her actions, and I just-“

“Look at me. Look at me and listen.” Gabbie lays her hand on your shoulder as you turn your head, “We have proof. I think you keep forgetting about that, y/n, and these texts. She basically admitted to blackmail.”

You nod, looking down at another texts that comes through, but this time it’s from Nick, How was the party last night? Did you make it home safe?

You instantly type back, I went home before I even got buzzed. My night was kind of ruined but I’ll explain it another time.

“Y/n.” Gabbie sighs, “Now they’re going to know something is up.” You shrug, “I don’t want to lie to any of them anymore, gabs. I can’t just-“ you stop, texting Nick again, Is Matt or Letty there?

“If they aren’t, I’m going to tell Nick everything.”

Your heart was racing as you awaited his answer, sweat building up on your palms more and more as each second passed, “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

“Did he answer?” She leans over, “Oh, he just did.” She looks up at you as you look down to read the text, No, him and Chris are out getting stuff for game night tonight.

“Go.” You look over at her and nod, “Go to their house.”

“Are you s-“

“Go! Before I change my mind.”

She nods and starts the car, immediately putting it into reverse, “I’ll come in with you.” You nod, tilting your head back as you talk yourself out of puking, “Fuuuuck.” You groan, “All of this could have just been av-“ you gasp, squeezing your eyes shut, “I hate myself.”

“I think you’ll feel better once you get everything off of your chest.” She nods, “If not, you have me.”

“Now isn’t the time for jokes, Gab.” You look over at her and she raises her fingers off the wheel, “Sorry, sorry. I’m nervous for you.”

The drive to their house felt like hours.

“Fuck.” You sigh, “Just do it. Just tell Nick everything.” You try to hype yourself up, “Fuck. Fuck.” You reach for the door handle, your hand shaking like a leaf in the winds of a storm, “Fuck. Okay.”

You open the door and get out. Your legs felt like jello the whole way up to the door. Nick calling out your name made your heart stop, “Y-yeah.. it’s me.. and Gabbie..”

“Gabbie!? I haven’t seen that bitch in ag-“ Nick stops at the top of the steps, “Do we need to hide a body?”

You raise your brows, “Yeah, we just might.” You walk up the steps and glance back at Gabbie, who stops at the stop and leans on the ledge, “Go on.”

“Go.. on.. with what?” Nick looks between the two of you confused and you take a deep breath, “Last night at the party..” you look down, gathering yourself before you look up, and in that moment, you were struck with word vomit.

“Letty cheated on Matt last night at the party, I heard her in a room with another guy kissing and saying that she was only using Matt to gain more fame from your guy’s following and then she cornered me in the fucking bathroom basically blackmailing me into not telling Matt anything and Gabbie has it all on recording she hid in the tub but that’s not the point okay the point is is that she tried to blackmail me by saying she would tell Matt that I liked him and that I tried to talk her out of her being with him by saying awful stuff about if I did try and ruin her getting what she wants, and, Nick, you know I would never do that. I love Matt. To the fullest fucking extent, I love him with my full entire being, I want him to be happy and her fucking cheating on him made me want to rip her fucking head off right then and there and the last thing I want is for my relationship with any of you to be ruined because the only thing she was right about is me only having you guys and Gabbie. I never said anything before because I was so scared of the rejecting being soo bad that I could never be able to show my face around here again I just, I fucking hate myself for not being truthful but I fucking told you, I fucking told you she had it out for me and she was only using Matt I just- she’s an awful fucking person Nick and I just wish there was a way for me to tell Matt everything.”

“Y/n.” Gabbie says and you turn, freezing when you see Matt and Chris standing on the steps staring at you.

“They came in when you were saying your thing.” Gabbie clears her throat, “Um.. okay, why don’t.. we give these two some space, yes? Yes. Come on you two, with me.”

Gabbie pulls Chris with her and grabs Nick on the way by.

You stand there, absolutely shaking in your boots as Matt continues to stare at you, a shocked look on his face. You wanted the silence to end, it only made things worse.

Finally, Matt breaks it, “You.. you love me?”

“I-I..” you voice cracks as you nod, speaking in a whisper, “so.. much, Matt I-“

Your words were cut short by him walking over to you, his hands grabbing and pulling your face towards him to close the gap, “I love you.. so much, too.”

Your hands move to his sides, immediately kissing him back. He pulls his head away, his hands still on your face, “I’m sorry she did that to you.”

“I’m sorry she did that to you, too.” You sniffle, “I should have told you last night. I’m sorry I didn’t call or text or-“

“Hey, hey.” Matt’s thumbs gently brush up and down your cheeks, “You were scared, but you made up for it right here, right now.”

“Do you want to see the proof?” You sniffle, reaching back to bring your phone out from your pocket. He nods, “I believe you even if I don’t see it.” He gives you a gentle smile, “I’m just, sorry I didn’t see how she was treating you sooner. I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head, “She didn’t scare me. The only thing that scared me was the thought of you never speaking to me again.”

He shakes his head, “I could never do that.” He kisses your head and motions to the couch, “Let’s listen to this shall we?”

You laugh slightly and nod, walking over to the couch with him. You sit next to him, wiping away your tears as his arm goes around your waist, his other hand resting on your thigh.

You being the video up and turn the volume up. All you see on the video is the shower curtain and your shadow on the other side.

“Alright, fine. You want to cut to the chase, well cut to the chase. Matt will believe anything I say. You try and tell him what you heard and saw up here, I will make your life a living hell, got it?”

Matt furrows his brows, shaking his head as he lets out a sigh, “She won’t do shit.” You smile slightly, tilting your head as the video continues to play, “…or else I’ll tell Matt that you are so in love with him that you tried talking me out of being with him for your own personal gain. I mean, there’s a reason you haven’t told him, right?”

He shakes his head, “Yeah, there’s..” he sits up, pushing the phone away, “I’ve heard enough.”

You put your phone down, “Sorry.”

“No, y/n. You don’t have anything to be sorry for, alright? You did the right thing, Letty on the other hand, she can..” he groans lowly, “I’m done.”

He pulls out his phone and you hear the line ringing. Your heart races as you await the pick up of his soon to be ex girlfriend.

“Hi Matty!”

“Is there anything you want to tell me about last night?” Matt tilts his head as he stands up and instantly, Letty puts on a facade, “Whatever you were told is a total lie! I swear. People just don’t want to see us be happy, Matt, please you have to believe me!”

“It’s hard to believe you when I have a video recording of you fucking threatening one of the closest people to me right here in front of me, Letty. Don’t even try to play the fucking victim card, what the fuck were you trying to do? Blackmail? Seriously?” Matt scoffs, “I should have seen how you were from the start. You put on a pretty good act.”

“What do you mean there’s a recording? What are you talking about? I didn’t blackmail anyone, I was with Serina and Layla the whole night, Matt, please! You can even ask them.”

Matt reaches over, taking your phone to hold up to his as he presses play, “What? Cat got your tongue?” Letty’s laugh rings from the video, “More like bitch, but whatever works for you.”

Matt smirks, glancing over at you and you smirk, giving him a shrug.

“No i-“ Letty groans, the video still playing, “You have three options here, y/n. You can just act like nothing happened tonight. Come clean about your feelings for Matt to see who he chooses, or you call Matt, tell him what you saw, but without proof, who do you think he’ll believe?”

“Yeah I think this pretty much covers as proof, Letty. Sounds like blackmail to me, does it not?” Matt clenches his jaw, waiting for Letty to speak, but she just huffs, “You can’t even prove that that’s me, though, Matt. Please.”

“You’re such a fucking bitch.”

Matt can’t stifle back his laughter with your words on the phone and you look down with a smirk on your lips, you were very proud of how you handled her, and Matt was, too.

“Yeah, I might be, but who’s fucking Matt almost every night, huh?”

“Well, it was fun. But I have to leave soon, I told Matt that I’d come over after this party. You think he’ll like my dress?”

“You didn’t come over last night, you never actually planned on it, did you?” Matt continues speaking, “And it’s actually really fucking hilarious you say that because we haven’t even had sex one time. You’re such a liar and my life will be great if I don’t ever see you again. I don’t care what you say about me, but keep y/n’s name out of your mouth.”

Matt hangs up and you look up at him, “You really never had sex with her?”

“I couldn’t.” He swallows, walking back over to sit next to you, “It just felt wrong because it wasn’t.. you.. I couldn’t even kiss her without trying to picture your face.”

You nod, “I kept looking for you in every guy that tried to keep my attention, but it never worked out because they weren’t you either.”

You reach up and cup his cheek, “I’m sorry I didn’t-“

Matt cuts you off with a kiss, “You don’t ever have to be sorry when it comes to me.” He kisses your lips a few times, “I love you, and I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner.“

You shake your head, “It’s alright, now that there isn’t anyone keeping us apart.” You smile and bring it in for one more kiss.

You hear the quiet and slow footsteps of the others and you pull away, looking behind Matt, “It’s safe to come in now.”

All three of them come in and sit on the couch next to you and Matt, “Is it safe to say that I never really liked Letty?” Chris raises his hand and looks around and you reach over to high-five him, “You and me both.”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Thank you @bambisturnioloalt for giving me the opportunity to join this event, and thank you to everyone who reads my work. I love you all so much and I will catch you in the next one! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[creamflix]

choso x reader; no implied reader gender. angst, limited superficial comfort. established relationship. implied (past) choso x yuki. choso is half-human who does not understand social cues, but could be read as gaslighting/manipulation? lol. based on a true incident :pensive: — masterlist here ☆

being with choso was like getting to see the world through brand-new eyes. the way he marveled at even the simplest things — a cup of coffee, a sunset, a song — lit up your life in ways you never expected. he’d sit there, wide-eyed, eager to learn and feel, and you were there for it all, guiding him through the maze of human experience. it felt special, something unique to you both, a bond deepened by moments only you could share.

so when that song came on, the one that was supposed to be yours, it was like a rush of warmth, like another page added to the story you were writing together. the melody swept you up, reminding you of quiet nights, gentle laughter, and whispered promises that you thought belonged only to you and him.

but then, out of nowhere, he smiled, that soft, almost bashful look he always gave you when he was remembering something dear.

“you know, yuki played this for me the first time,” he said, voice light, as if he’d just shared a fond memory.

the words crashed over you, your chest tightening as if the air had been sucked from the room. yuki played this?

the image of her, casual, confident, teaching him the meaning behind this song flashed unbidden in your mind, and suddenly, the song you thought was yours didn’t feel like it anymore.

you tried to keep the smile on your face, the one he loved, the one he looked for whenever he felt unsure. but the hurt simmered under your skin, an ache spreading through you that he couldn’t possibly understand. you swallowed hard, feeling your pulse in your throat.

“yuki introduced you to it?”

choso nodded, oblivious to the turmoil brewing within you, still wearing that innocent smile. “yeah… she thought it suited me.” he chuckled softly, completely unaware of the weight behind your question. “she said it reminded her of family. guess that’s why i thought of you when i heard it again.”

family.

the word rang hollow as it slipped from his mouth, the meaning of it different than it should’ve been. you wanted to feel special to him, to have your own corner of his heart.

but now it felt like you were picking up pieces of memories he’d already formed with someone else.

“oh,” you managed, voice low, trying to sound casual even as the words scraped out. “i thought it… i thought it was our song.”

he tilted his head, brows knitting in that familiar look of confusion. “it is, isn’t it?” he asked, his gaze warm and unassuming. “i mean, it makes me think of you now.”

you forced a smile, but something about his innocence cut even deeper. he didn’t realize what it meant, didn’t understand that he was treading over something you’d thought belonged to just the two of you. to him, it was just a song, another piece of his experience, while to you, it was part of your connection, a bridge between your worlds.

“yeah,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him, “but it’s not… it’s not the same.”

choso blinked, concern flickering in his eyes as he noticed the strain in your voice. “what’s wrong?” he asked, leaning closer, his expression open, worried. “did i… did i say something bad?”

you wanted to say yes, to tell him that this hurt, that it felt like sharing something you could never get back.

but then you saw his face, that wide-eyed sincerity that had always drawn you to him, and you couldn’t bring yourself to lay it all out.

he wouldn’t understand.

how could he? he was trying so hard, learning to open himself up, and here you were, tangled in feelings he couldn’t yet grasp.

“no, it’s…” you forced a laugh, hating the way it sounded hollow, even to your own ears. “it’s fine, choso. i just… i thought it was different.”

he reached for your hand, his grip gentle as his thumb traced comforting circles along your skin. “i only think of you when i hear it now,” he said, earnestly. “doesn’t that make it ours?”

your throat tightened, a bitterness you couldn’t name rising in your chest. he didn’t get it, and maybe he never would.

this wasn’t about a song, not really — it was about feeling like part of him in a way that no one else could touch. but he didn’t understand why it mattered so much, didn’t understand what it was like to feel like an afterthought in someone else’s memories.

you swallowed, brushing your thumb over his hand in return, forcing yourself to smile, to meet his gaze even though it felt like you were cracking.

“yeah,” you lied, trying to smooth out the hurt with words you didn’t quite believe, “i guess that makes it ours.”

but as the song continued, filling the silence between you, it didn’t feel like it was yours at all. instead, it felt like something you’d borrowed, a memory that didn’t truly belong to you.

and as you sat there, feeling the weight of everything left unsaid, you realized this wound wasn’t one he could ever heal.

produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡ banners by cafekitsune