#anyhow i tried out a new brush and im liking it!

[ibrokeeverything]

faye faye!

[mysticalsoot]

This is it, this is what joy feels like, doesn't it?

A/N: this was meant as my gift to my valentine for Grey's Valentine's Exchange but since it has been cancelled I decided to quickly finish it up and dedicate it to not only grey because they need it with how rough the exchange ended up being but also my new found friend on here! I'm really proud of this and Im very surprised at how much I wrote in such little time (5k is a lot okay lol) I hope you all enjoy it and happy early Valentine's! (I'm still gonna post a special Valentine's blurb!)

Pronouns: they/them, uses of y/n

Pairings: Cc!Wilbur x Reader

Summary: Wilbur and Reader have known each other since their early teens, and despite having painfully obvious feelings for the other, they ignore them in the sake of saving their friendship. James concocts an outing for the two and maybe it goes according to plan?

Warnings: swearing, angst but with a ton of fluff at the end! also there is a kiss but not detailed bc I in fact have never been kissed so I'm going off gut feeling lmao. also mentions of alcohol and drinking (I've also never drunk alcohol so I don't know much about that either so another guessing game there too).

Words: 5.3k

Dedicated to: @grey-rambles @loverboy-soot

masterlist

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

James had invited Wilbur, Ash, Tommy, Rue, and you over to his place to hang out. It was mostly Mario Kart and James fucking screaming the Wario sound, but it was fun. There was food and a few rounds of uno with Ash, Tommy, and Rue, but despite all the festivities, Wilbur hadn't joined in any of them. He sat in the farthest corner from you and the rest of the group, the corner of James' loveseat didn't seem very comfortable anyhow. But there he sat, hands folded and rested between his thighs, his eyes darted from the group to the wall, to the TV, and back to his lap. He seemed so dazed like he wasn't fully there in the moment like he was somewhere else.

The absence of his laugh and his smile...and his voice, concerned you. It wasn't like him to isolate himself like this, it was one thing to stop answering messages and hiding in his flat but straight out isolating himself at a social gathering was nothing like him. You wanted to find him in his corner, bring him away from the others and ask him what was wrong, what you did every time he found himself anxious and shutting down. But every time you tried someone would pull you away, ask questions or bring you into banter. Staring at him, contemplating doing something wasn't helpful so maybe engulfing yourself in the festivities around you would help. It was selfish, yes, but there wasn't much you could do. The chances of him brushing it off and saying he was fine and completely ignoring the subject at hand were much more probable than him stepping aside and delving into his anxieties with you. So you pushed it aside and focused on whatever shit James and Tommy were debating about at this point.

“James,” Tommy pauses for emphasis, his hands folded in front of his face and eyes closed, “You are one deaf fucking bastard.”

“I’m hearing you! I’m just saying your point is invalid and ill-informed!” James counters, despite the possible hostility of their bickering, it's known by everyone that it's just light-hearted poking and prodding at each other, nothing substantial to be worried about.

Something you could slip away from easily…

“Says the man who is convinced that the creeper is the elite hostile mob in Minecraft?? It blows shit up and is extremely difficult to kill at the start of the game! The true elite mob is the zombie, they are slow and easy to hit.” Tommy then stands up and his face plastered with a smug smile. He knows he's right even if the topic at hand is trivial and childish at best.

"You're an asshole, Thomas Simons. I'm right, you're wrong." James is quick to poke at him, and you catch a small, soft smile forming on Wilbur's features. He's gazing at the chaos in front of you, no longer on his jeans or the spots on the wall. It's on the people now. His friends.

The thought brings a glimpse of hope to you, maybe it's just a fluke and he's okay. Nothing to worry about, he's not being self-destructive right now. It's okay.

It wouldn't hurt to get him to join the conversation, would it? "What do you think, Wil? Who's the most elite hostile mob?" You pose the question with a smile on your face, eyes locked on his, gauging how he was feeling by the way his eyes went wide and his mouth opened to speak but nothing came out. Anxious, noted, not anything new and revolutionary but something to note when speaking to him.

"Um, Skeletons I guess?" His answer is unsure and it's probably because he wasn't really listening in the first place, just observing his friends having fun and bickering, doing anything he can to keep his mind off the anxiety dwelling in his head.

“Skeletons? That is the most basic bitch answer! Also, it’s invalid because they can shoot you from sixteen blocks away!” Tommy counters his answer and he gets riled up again, rushing to pull up some sort of resource list as if this was a school assignment.

Wilbur’s face drops again, but his eyes are still trained on the group as they begin bickering again. Rur and Ash decided to chime in this time, both with their own very opinionated thoughts on the matter. It began to get tenser, despite the laughs and smiles, the abrupt yells were enough to push anyone already on edge even further.

It was best to get him out of there, even if it was for a moment. So you stood from your spot at the sofa to walk over to where Wilbur placed himself. Pushed into the corner of the loveseat farthest from the group. Now that you're closer, you notice how straight he's sat, his whole body is tense and his face is flushed.

You put your hand out to him, an offering, “Come on, Wil,” It’s muttered as a mere whisper, but he hears it. His head tilts up to look at you, eyes still wide and overflowing with unease.

“Okay,” He whispers, taking your hand in his and standing up from his own spot. His shoulders slouch, making him seem slightly shorter --- he still towers over you, but it makes him seem vulnerable and small.

You tighten your grip on his hand, in a comforting way and lead him out of the living room, through the hall, and into the dark kitchen. No one seems to notice the absence of either of you, they're too busy arguing over a block game to think about much else. He lets your hand go after the door is closed and he goes to sit on the floor in the corner of the room against the kitchen cabinets. Wil pulls his knees up to meet his chin and he wraps his arms around his legs.

“Are you okay?” You slide down the cabinet to sit next to him, your hand resting on his knee drawing circles with your thumb.

“Mmm, ‘m fine.” He mumbles, his head between his knees and his face hidden.

“As your best friend, I do not believe that.” You try to lighten the mood, be playful in hopes he’ll at least crack a smile.

“I’m fine.” He lifts his head and looks to you, despite how hard he tries it's not convincing.

“Yeah, yeah, and the queen’s alive. Come on, Wil.” You laugh, moving to card through the curls atop his head.

"I'm okay." He tries to fake a smile to rid your concerns but it's not that easy anymore.

"You don't have to tell me, but you can admit when you're not okay, love." The pet name was merely a slip for you and when you noticed you used it, you wanted to crawl into yourself. Hideaway and forget everything you said. Surely to others, it's not a big deal but it's not like you can give any hint at your feelings for him, feelings you know aren't reciprocated.

He simply hums in response with his head back between his knees, and you take your hand away from his hair and drop it on your lap. You want to help him, make him feel better but this is making you feel so hopeless. You can't let him wallow but he's stubborn, it's not easy to get through his shell.

"Wanna tell me about the French Revolution?" The question was merely a suggestion, a bribe to get him to speak in more than two words per sentence.

And it worked, his head lifted up almost immediately and his eyes were wide with excitement, "Really? Are you sure?" His voice is soft but you can practically hear the joy in the way he spoke.

"Of course, tell me all about it." As you mutter the last bit, you lean your head against the cabinet and gaze up at him. His smile is wide and he's now let his knees fall to where his legs are stretched out in front of him. Stupid lanky bastard.

"Okay so, the revolution of 1789 had maaany different causes, primarily economical and political," And so he went on for what felt like hours, but you enjoyed the chatter. You liked seeing him so giddy and happy over something he loved like this. He's an absolute history buff and most people don't care to sit still long enough to listen, except for his brother, you, and sometimes Ash. So you let him talk your ear off, you asked questions, and let him tell you all the little details and factoids he's learned over the years.

After a while, your eyes began to droop and feel heavy, and you kept having to pull your head back up to keep yourself awake. So you settled with resting your head on Wilbur's shoulder as he continued telling you about one of the many corrupt French kings. You wrapped your left arm around his middle and your right hand rested on the shoulder you laid on. You were comfortable and he didn't seem to mind the contact.

"Sleepy?" He breaks his info dump and runs his hands through your hair. You were far too drowsy to think twice about the action or to get nervous about it as usual, so you just hummed and nuzzled further into him.

"Keep talking." Your words were muffled by his sweater but he understood, and so he did just that. He continued on about the revolution and everything that came after before he himself began to doze off. His head leaned against yours and before he knew it, he was passed out too.

----

"Hey, has anyone seen Wilbur?" James chimed in, the Lion King plays on the TV, and everyone groans, and Tommy pauses the movie.

"Dude, it was the best part!" Tommy exclaims and dramatically throws his head onto the back of the couch.

"Sorry! Wil just disappeared, so I was just wondering if anyone saw him." James reiterates, hands in the air in surrender before dropping them to the floor on either side of himself.

"I'm sure the guy's fine, he's probably somewhere with his best friend anyways," Rue reassures James, her arms crossing over her chest.

"Those two are inseparable," Ash adds.

"And they are so obvious too! It's annoying." Tommy grunts in that typical little sibling way.

James frowns, clearly not satisfied with how calm and not worried his friends are. Ash notices and pats his friend on the back, and James' shoulders slump.

"Dude if you're so worried about them, go find them." Rue leans against the back of the couch, crossing her ankles and resting them on the coffee table. James growls and shoves her feet off the table, Rue then rolls her eyes. "So mean.."

“Fine, I will.” James groans and lifts himself off the floor where he sat and he as well makes his way out of the living room. He heads through the hall, peaking into the dining room; nothing. He checks the guest bed next, also nothing; and then his office, still nothing. He checks every room before he settles on checking the kitchen- the last spot he expected to look. The moment he peaks his head through the door he catches a glimpse of both you and Wilbur cuddled against each other, sound asleep.

“Aww, cute,” Rue whispers behind James and he jumps, yelling a slew of curses at his friend. She simply laughs in response. James looks back to be sure the interaction didn't wake the two of you, and surely it didn't. He would have never been so thankful for how heavy of sleepers you two were.

James backs away from the door, being sure to close it as slowly and quietly as possible, and then he ushers Rue down the hall and back to the sitting room where the rest of their friends were. He then happily plops down onto his sofa, right next to Tommy.

“So, are they okay?” Ash’s expression is one of concern, but calm still.

“Oh they're fine,” James takes a swig of the drink he left on the coffee table, “But we have some matchmaking to do.”

----

“We’re meeting at the pub around the corner, that's right, James?” The entire situation is confusing and getting a confirmation out of James is the worst hell that you desperately want to crawl out of.

"Yes, yes, that pub. I told you like ten times already." James sighs in a loud obnoxious way and if it weren't for the fact you loved him, he would be dead on sight. Or on sight when you both got to the damn pub.

"It's not my fault you give shitty instructions and clarification!" You do your best to whisper yell through the phone, he may annoy the fuck out of you but you don't hate him, and if he lost his hearing because of you—you couldn't mess with him.

"Oh my god, stop whining and get your ass over here." You're about to snap back at him and then he hangs up just as quickly as the words roll off his tongue.

You groan and drag your feet on the sidewalk, desperate to make your trek longer so you can postpone seeing James a little more. I mean, you love him but fuck can he be an annoying little shit sometimes. He's really good at it too and you don't know how he manages it.

Unfortunately, you're in front of the pub way quicker than you thought you would be. You're quick to open the door, and rush in before you push through the crowd to find any inkling of where your friends have situated themselves. James didn't mention which table the rest of their friends sat at, so you assumed he didn't know either seeing as he was on his way here as well.

You're about to give up when you spot a familiar Pinterest hipster across the pub. Wilbur is sat alone at a booth, holding what seems to be a simple water as he himself eyes the tables and bar as well as the sea of people standing around the place.

You smile and wave your hand at him, signaling that you're there. He smiles too, waving back and then gesturing for you to sit with him. You're quick to shuffle through the people surrounding you, muttering excuse me and I'm sorry's whenever you bump into someone or get just a hair too close to them. By the time you reach the booth, you're out of breath from swimming through the crowd. You plop down on the spot next to Wil and you rest your head face first on the table.

"Why is James so annoying?" You pose the question, all muffled and not really meant to be answered, simply spoken into the void.

"Hell if I know, he told me the rest of the group was here but I couldn't find them." Wilbur speaks in such a nonchalant way that you would think he did this often, wait for his friends to be there and either be late or not come at all. But you know he doesn't do this often, I mean it was more common in middle school and high school, but now he's an adult and you know his current friends wouldn't do that. I mean you're his best friend after all, you notice way more about him than you would care to notice.

"So you think they've ditched us?" You move your head to face him, eyes looking up to him and his own looking down at you. You swear you could see a smile forming on his lips.

"Hah, maybe." He laughs and then switches to gaze at his hands resting in his lap.

You lift your head up, and lean against the back of the booth. You rest a hand on his shoulder and he looks to you, "You're my favorite anyway." You pat his shoulder before removing your hand only for it to find great interest in the sleeves of the jacket you wore out today. One of Wilbur's old jackets his arms were too long for. It's oversized but it's comfortable and a hundred percent smells like him, so it's comforting.

"Ash isn't even your favorite?" He's smirking now and you can tell he's almost completely forgotten about James and the clan.

"He's a close second." You throw a soft smile to him and you can feel your cheeks warm and turn red.

———

"Wow, France is fucking shitty." You let out a soft laugh, taking a sip of whatever alcoholic beverage was the special—you didn't care, it tasted good and didn't burn horribly so it did just fine for you.

"I know!" Wilbur slurs and then laughs, throwing his head back to lean against the back of the booth. He turns to face you, smile wide and face pink from being a bit too tipsy.

"You're smart, Wil. You know that?" You rest your chin in your hand and look in his eyes. You never really noticed how rich and…deep they were. It was endearing to look at.

"Not really, I just know a lot." He shrugs, gaze dropping and face draining from positivity.

"Isn't that the definition of smart?" You reach your hand out to rest against his arm. He doesn't move or flinch. It's like your touch is second nature.

There's a silence, he doesn't say anything, you don't say anything. Your friends still aren't here and it's been an hour and a few drinks in—you're beginning to wonder what James' intentions were.

"They ditched us didn't they?" You lean your own head against the backboard.

"Oh they sure as hell did." Wilbur lets out a soft chuckle and the sight makes your heart flutter.

"Wanna go back to mine?" The question is simple and you play with the idea of looking away from him, to dull the sting if he says no—or rejects you without even admitting anything to him—but you decide to turn your head and gaze upwards at him.

A soft smile, a breathy laugh, he turns his head to face you, "Of course,"

It takes a good twenty minutes to get back to your flat, which is only a ten minute walk from the pub James tricked the two of you to go into, but with both of your slighter drunken states, it was safe to say it took a lot longer. Stumbling, giggling, slurred speech, a hand on the small of your back, your arm around his torso. There was no such thing as a ten minute walk on your minds.

The walk down the cobble path to the door of your flat is a tricky one. Wilbur only had a few shots but he hadn't been drinking in a while so his ability to handle much alcohol was severely lacking at the moment—so he was stumbling a lot. He nearly fell in the bush a few times but you were able to keep your grip on him, keeping him steady. You yourself weren't in the best of shape either, but you managed. Surprisingly neither of you had felt the least bit nauseous yet, which was a tremendous thing.

You struggled a few moments with your keys before Wilbur got off the wall where he leaned and said, "Here, lemme try." He was quick to find the right key and turn it in the keyhole. The door clicked and Wilbur turned the door knob and pushed it open. He stepped aside and bowed, his right arm over his stomach and his left out stretched in a gentlemanly manner. "Royalty first, as always." You smile and are sure your laugh is heard by the man.

"Why, thank you kind sir!" You exclaim, folding your hands like a queen in a ball gown and dramatically walk in the door. He laughs and follows you in, closing the door and locking it behind him.

You lead him to the living room just to the left in the corridor and curl up on the couch and shove your shoes off your feet. Wilbur follows and does the same, his head next to yours and his legs curled up next to him.

"Hi," He whispers to you, smiling softly and gaze set up on you.

"Hi," you pause, readjusting your legs to be held against your chest. "I'll take the couch, you take the bed, that cool?" Your eyelids begin to feel heavy and so you rest them, unable to spot the reaction Wilbur gave you.

"No, not cool." He states plainly, your eyes shoot open. Did you upset him? What did you say wrong? Your mind runs wild and he seems to notice your anxiety bubbling. Your slightly tipsy self, not doing a great job at hiding it. "I take the couch, you take the bed."

"No, you take the bed, I take the couch."

"Darling," He warns and the pet name shocks you both, and it seems as though the alcohol has an effect on both of your filters, his and yours.

"I said what I said and I stand by it!" You cross your arms over your chest and playfully move to look away from him.

He groans in an artificial annoyance and you smile to yourself.

"How about this," He begins and you turn back to face him, he's sat up now, legs pulled up to his chest still. "We both take the bed? That way we both win."

"Mmm, as long as you're okay with it, I am."

Wilbur smiles and nods, "It was my brilliant idea, now wasn't it?" A smirk forms.

"Goddamn, you and your stupid ego." You roll your eyes and Wilbur huffs.

"Oh shut it." He snaps back, going to stand and walk out the door and across the hall to the bedroom. You follow him and quickly go to the cupboard on the left beside the door. Your bed is prepared to warm one person, not two, so you need extra blankets and maybe another pillow or two.

"Dude, when's the last time we shared a bed?" You break the silence, chuckling to yourself as you hear Wilbur shuffle around the bathroom—presumably to find his old toothbrush he left at your place that one time he stayed for a week six months ago.

"Like the last time I stumbled to your door drunk as fuck?" He sighs before exclaiming an Aha presumably because he found the toothbrush he was looking for.

"You really need to stop drinking that much, especially alone. I'm not always gonna be here to be a pick me up for your sorry ass." You throw the blankets you pulled out onto the bed and jumped in face first. "So comfy." It's meant as a whisper, but Wilbur manages to pick it up.

"Save some blankets for me, meanie." He turns on the faucet and he's then silent for a moment before the sound of brushing sounds from the bathroom.

"No, they're mine. I bought them with my money, dickwad." You grunt and turn over, wrapping yourself in a little blanket cacoon.

Wilbur lets out a laugh, and the faucet sounds again before the tapping of the toothbrush on the side of the sink. Before you know it, the other side of the bed dips and you feel a blanket being snatched from you. You don't have the energy to fight it, so you let it go.

"Wow, my best friend being generous to me? What world do we live in.." He mutters, laughing more to himself than anything.

"Too tired to care."

"Not because you love me? Oh my heart!" He dramatically clutches his heart and lets out a breathy chuckle.

"Only because tired." Your words become more slurred and they're muffled by the pillow you have your face in.

"Yeah, yeah." He sighs, and then tosses around a few times, getting comfortable. The bed creaks with his every move and you can hear him groan in annoyance at the sound.

The creaking stops, and Wilbur stops moving. He's situated now, but he's on his back staring at the ceiling.

Many thoughts run through his mind but one in particular stands out; Should I tell them?

The concept is foreign, expressing undiscussed emotion that could be detrimental information if provided at the wrong time—it's scary. What is he meant to do? Lye around and pretend he didn't get nervous at your touch, or your pet names or the way you willingly am letting him sleep next to you—and while the latter wasn't unusual in the past, it was now, given the two of you being in your early 20s and having been avoiding sleepovers since you turned 18. Although there was only so much you could do when Wilbur came stumbling to your door pissed out of his mind.

He bit the bullet. What's the worst that could happen? A Lot actually.

But he figured he should give context first, background.

"Do you know why I was sulking that day at James'?" He breaks the comforting silence that fell between you two. He doesn't mind it but he figured he must act now before he chickens out.

"I figured you were just having a bad day, and once I offered a France info dump you seemed pretty okay. Was there something I missed?" You turn your head back to face him, eyebrows knitted in genuine—sober—concern.

"I was upset," He pauses, beginning to place the pieces in his mind of what to say next and then after that and then after that and so on. "It's kind of stupid, I guess-"

You cut him off, "Nothing, and I mean nothing you say is stupid, Wil. I promise." You're sitting up now, crisscrossing applesauce on the bed, your body facing him but your eyes trained on his own eyes. "What was wrong?"

He closes his eyes, "I guess, I was getting sort of fed up with myself. See, I really really like this person—" He pauses to sit up himself, he gazes down at you as he leans his back against the wall. He reaches for your hand and draws circles on your palm with his thumb, his eyes painfully focused on the lines drawn in your skin. "They're wonderful, and one of my closest friends. I've liked them for a long while, love them even but a part of me knows they don't reciprocate my feelings—so I was feeling sorry for myself. It had been years and no moves had been made and so I felt hopeless. That person was so happy that day, and I was pissed I wasn't the reason for their smile." He sighs, letting go over your hand and leaning against the headboard, eyes closed shut.

Your voice is but a whisper, "Who is this mystery person?"

He hesitates for a moment, but he's this far already, there isn't any going back.

"You." The answer is simple, straightforward and blunt but it hits you hard nonetheless. Handfuls of emotion are thrown at you like confetti and you can't even begin to sift through and identify them all. You're in shock, that's for sure, but everything else? There's no telling.

You smack his shoulder, "William! You should have said sooner, you asshole!" Your tone is playful but your words would say otherwise. Elated.

"Ouch! What was that for?" He rubs the side of his arm, wincing for a split second before meeting your eyes.

"Not telling me." Frustration.

Silence, no more words slip from either of your tongues. It's simply quiet, the humming of the fan you set up hours ago, sirens sounding outside in the city —your breathing, his breathing. Fear.

"I like you too, you know." You look down, despite him already confessing to you, admitting this is still terrifying, and odd to you.

"Oh, I know." He smiles, and you mentally smack yourself for saying something you know would get some stupid snarky comment.

"You and your damn ego, Soot." You shake your head, smiling fondly at him.

"Oh but don't you love my ego, my dear?" The man is still tipsy.

"Hey, why don't you shut up?" He smirks, and you immediately regret your words, well, partially — he reaches his hand up to rest on your cheek, and he brings your face closer to his, lips millimeters apart and breath fanning on each other's faces.

"Can I?" It's a simple request but you nod, smiling whilst your heart warms. He leans in closer, your own lips meeting his in a soft loving exchange.

You smile into the kiss, giggling a few times throughout. You rest your hands on the back of his neck and his own hands fall to rest on your sides.

It's not as dramatic as you imagined, figuring if he felt the same he would have some grand confession —but you like this, you really do. It's calm, private—it's tremendously better than a heated confession in the rain, at least in your opinion.

You both break apart, smiles wide as ever and you're out of breath. You lurch forward, wrapping your arms around him and your head hitting his chest, settling into him. It takes him a moment to reciprocate but when he does, his own arms snake around you, pulling you closer to him.

Wilbur's head dips down to rest on top of yours and you hum happily. This is it, this is what joy feels like, doesn't it? Warm arms around you, the sound of his beating heart—he starts to hum, what sounds like one of his songs.

The night goes on like this, the two of you wrapped around each other, Wilbur humming songs he knows or wrote and the occasional comment on how long it took you two, followed by laughter.

This was joy, he was joy.

The next day, you awoke to your phone buzzing like no tomorrow. You were groggy and really didn't want to even bother looking, but the sound managed to send you into a slight panic. Your legs were still wrapped with Wilbur's, and his head was resting on your chest and his stupidly long arms were pulling you into him. You looked over at the end table on your left and snuck your phone into your grip.

You groaned as you pressed answer on the incoming call that created your woken state. It was James.

"What do you want, James? It's 2am." Your tone is that of a very annoyed person, and James winces over the call.

"I hadn't heard from you and Wilbur's not answering his phone or his door, so I figured you two ran off and died." His words all jumbled together and you laugh much to his distaste, "Be serious here!"

"We should've run off, honestly. Maybe we would have gotten some peace and quiet then." You set your gaze down at the man with his arms around you, and you smiles sweetly.

"You're a dick—are you two okay? Do I need to send like a police force or something?" James is still frantic with how he speaks but you can tell he's calming down by the second.

"We're fine James, okay? We're at my place. We drank a little last night and my apartment was the closest." You pause, but before he can get a word in, "Thank you for setting us up." There's a smirk on your face and James can hear it in the way you spoke.

"What—I, I didn't set you up!" He's quick to his defense and you laugh.

"Yeah, no you definitely did."

"Did it work?" He asks, ditching the defensive attitude from the moment prior.

"Yeah, yeah it did. Thank you." You lean your head back, phone still pressed to your ear and your free hand carding through Wilbur's mop of curls.

"Good."

[aewrie]

i've had this thought ruminating and i'm attempting to words

wrt "i cannot be traumatized, i never show any signs of being traumatized" and then years and years later i find myself researching things for No Particular Reason

i have an example situation but throwing under cut bc long + talk about child death

so.

when my baby brother (same dad, different mom) died my grieving process looked like me crying for maybe two minutes when i got the news, and then i was done. my other brother and i did not get to go to the funeral or anything (not sure what my dad's logic behind that was). we did get to make a 'final message' to be burned with him for the urn. that was nice, but that was also just one relatively small thing. i don't remember how long it was before we even visited the grave with my dad.

this was the first time in my life that i was old enough to really understand and remember a family member dying. with my great grandparents i was so young i barely remember the ones i did meet.

it was never really discussed. my mom was the only one who even asked if i was doing ok or wanted to talk. and i just say nah i'm good. the only other time any relative brought it up was months, maybe a year later when i was visiting my (paternal) grandma and she said how she believed juho never talked bc he 'knew' he was 'only visiting'. which i said nothing to bc it was helping her grieve i guess, but this was basically the only time i remember anyone acknowledging him not talking and it weirded me out tbh.

(he was almost four. i don't remember at which point it clicked that oh yeah kids usually talk at least a little by then. no fucking clue if it was ever looked into. im like 99% sure he did vocalize some, but didn't even cry/laugh/etc much? i actually struggle remembering him doing so. he was very quiet even beyond not talking.)

about a year after his death at school we had a writing assignment to make a short autobiography and like. of course i mention this! two fucking years of a sibling dealing with cancer that unfortunately ended in death kinda was a notable part of my life at that point. and when we got graded and my teacher had added a note on the margins offering condolences and i was weirded out bc i didn't know how to deal with that. i just felt like i should comfort this completely unrelated person bc i'm Totally Fine and there is no need for fussing about it, why should she feel sorry for me in the first place??

anyhow. it was this year that i bumped into videos about how to talk to kids about death and how well kids at a given age understand death and suddenly i was extra interested in death related stuff (certainly wasn't before /s). and i remember wondering, way back then, if juho understood what was going on, or if anyone even tried to explain anything to him.

(i started typing more but it was getting into actually upsetting enough territory that this would turn into a proper vent/rant so let's just leave it there for now.)

i've had to learn not to bottle up and repress everything as an adult. it's an. ongoing process. but like. this^ sort of things have been happening for a few years and then when it does and i connect some dots, and proceed sit there a bit like

(but like half the time only on the inside.)

like even now it's like. i'm fine? but at the same time not, not in the sense i thought, before it hit me how much this and that in fact did impact me while i was busy brushing everything upsetting aside for later (read: to never be thought about ever)

((also in case anyone's wondering bc hk is the dead baby pit fandom, i'm good, the dark humour etc is fine and probably helps tbh. been really thinking about dead and dying children for the first time in ages and do i have thoughts that have been marinating for a while lol.))

[marauder-exe]

Moving Day- Sirius Black x Reader

Request: Hi, can I request a Sirius black x reader with the prompts 65, 69, 79, 86, 91, and 100 from prompt list #2.

Prompts: 65.“How about a kiss?”

69. “Let me help you with that.”

79.“No, like…. It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.”

86.“You are so beautiful — So fucking beautiful.”

91.“It was always you.”

100.“I remember practising how to ask you out in the mirror..”

Word Count: 1.2K

It was the summer after 6th year. You'd decided to move out of your childhood home, nothing was wrong with your home, there was just never enough space for all the antics you and the boys ended up in. And it would be nice to get away from your family and your crowded city during the summers. What wasn't so great however, was moving day. The constant moving back and forth between your city and your new home was exhausting, but luckily, you had the ever so entertaining Sirius Black to help. The rest of the boys where supposed to help but they never turned up. You chalked it up to, they either forgot or they just didn't really want to help, but you brushed it off anyhow. At least Sirius was here to make you feel better. He always had that effect on you, you loved it, of course, the butterflies, the giggles. You loved it a little less when you knew he didn't reciprocate your feelings. But you couldn't really do anything about it. Having him as a friend was better than not having him at all.

It was around midday, and you where utterly exhausted, after having moved boxes for the last six hours. Your arms strained and your entire body hurting. Your arms where hoisted in the air, desperately trying to put a box on a shelf that was just a smidgen too high. Sirius walked in after stopping in the kitchen for a drink, putting his glass down after noticing you where struggling.

“Here, let me help you.” His hand gripped your waist as he took the box with one hand, placing it on the right shelf. You turned and put your your hands on his chest.

“Ah my night in shining armour!” You shouted dramatically. “How could I ever repay you?” You threw a hand on your forehead for increased dramatic-ism.

“How about a kiss?” He smirked cheekily, puckering his lips. You giggled and pushed his face away.

“Ugh you wish” You walked away, swaying your hips, throwing a smile back at him. You and where like that, always had been, probably always will be. It never meant anything, the flirts, the cuddles, the googly eyes. He made that evident when he slept with nearly every girl in Hogwarts. Deep down it stung, because you desperately wanted it to mean something more, and so did he.

“Im absolutely parched, how about you Pads?” You dived onto the couch with a sigh.

“Couldn't agree more, love.” He joined you on the couch, your head now in his lap. This felt right.

“How about….” You looked up at him hopefully. “You, go to Tony’s and pick up some pizza, and get some coffee on the way back.” Pointing at him, giving extreme puppy dog eyes, hoping it would work. “And I’ll stay here and have a nice nap” You grinned.

“Well how could I refuse that adorable face.” He began to get up. “Do not fall asleep, misses, you need to keep moving stuff, or we’ll never get this done. Also why do you have so much stuff, so many damn books, its impressive to be honest” He laughed.  He picked up his motorcycle keys and his leather jacket, while you just stared at him, you where well and truly head over heels.

“Admiring, love?” He smirked.

“Pfttt, of course not.” You brushed it off and he just chuckled.

“Right, you” He pointed a finger at you. “keep moving, no sleeping”

“Wouldn't dream of it” You giggled. He quickly left, obviously as hungry as you. You lay on the couch and sighed. He’ be gone for at least an hour, he gets very distracted sometimes. So you thought, a little nap couldn't hurt. But it was absolutely freezing in your new home, as the heaters hadn't been installed yet. You jumped of the couch and tried to look for anything to keep you warm, maybe wearing a tank top and shorts wasn't the best idea. Then from the corner of your eye, you spotted one of Sirius’ Led Zeppelin. You couldn't. Could you? Yeahhhhh, he’ll be fine with it, you guys had shared a bed before never mind clothes. You grabbed the top, shuffling it on. It dangled over your frame as Sirius was a lot taller than you, but you just giggled. You made yourself comfortable on the couch and drifted into peace.

You had heard the revving of Sirius’ motorcycle and you stirred in your sleep, not wanting to wake up. His keys jangled in the door as he stepped into the house. He naturally had his own key to your house already.  He quickly got some cutlery from the kitchen and entered the living room. But he stopped when he saw you, laying so peacefully, sun beams lighting up your features beautifully, in his shirt. You stirred and opened your eyes slowly, adjusting to the light in the room. To your surprise, Sirius was already staring at you.

You gave a lopsided grin and said “Admiring, love?” Mirroring his earlier words.

“No, its just.. I cant believe your wearing my clothes.” He looked shocked. And he honestly was. The girl he was pining after for the last 6 years, was wearing his clothes, and it was his favourite shirt..

“Oh, im sorry, am I not allowed too?” You giggled.

“No its just, your so beautiful… so fucking beautiful” A blush creeped up your neck at his words. And you two stared, stared at each other longer than you ever had before. Then he did the unthinkable, he rushed over to you and his lips immediately attached to your, in a passionate, meaningful kiss. It felt electric.. Everything you two had felt in the last 6 years, poured into one kiss

You broke apart, foreheads resting against each other.. “be mine.” He breathed. Your words hitched in the back of your throat. He actually liked you like that.

“I never knew you liked me in that way”

“Honestly?” He questioned. “(Y/N), Ive been after you since the first day I lay my eyes on you. I remember James throwing a pack of Bertie Bots at me because I was staring at you for so long” You both laughed at the memory of 6 years ago. “All those girls, they where a distraction, because I thought you'd never go for a guy like me. Its you, (Y/N). its always been you.” His speech almost made you tear up.

“Of course ill be yours, do you even need to ask?” You giggled, and threw your arms around his, wrapping him in another passionate kiss.

You broke apart and stared into each others eyes, “You know” He stroked your cheek with his thumb, “I remember practising how to ask you out in the mirror, James helping psych me up” He grinned.

“Ever the sweetie Sirius Black.”

“Only for you (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N)”

[fancifulwhump]

i’m a simple bitch who likes seeing jaskier get kidnapped and geralt having to rescue him lmao

AN:   as you ask, so shall you recieve.   protective geralt going from beast-mode to soft??  that’s my jam, dude

In Geralt’s complete defense, the risks of leaving Jaskier unattended — of which past experience had proven were many — really paled in comparison to a Devourer attack.

Rather, an attack by multiple Devourers, at the same bloody time, with the tenacity of a pack of wild wolves. The flesh-craving beasts showed little interest in a Witcher’s mutated blood. They wanted human flesh, and human alone. A reign of terror stretching on for weeks before Geralt happened upon the poor mining village in the mountains made that clear enough. People could no longer venture from their homes without risk of being torn to bits by a sulking monster. Geralt’s arrival was a blessing to them. Jaskier’s presence — for, having hit a creative dry spell, he'd been following Geralt for the last few weeks, to “fan the flames of inspiration” — was just convenient. 

Geralt never liked using the bard as bait. This had nothing to do with any moral qualms; any time Jaskier involved himself in a kill, things got complicated. He simple had a talent for getting in the way. Trouble was drawn to him like a magnet; rather than avoid it, the idiot almost seemed to invite it. Geralt tried to keep Jaskier out of the way during jobs because bailing him out of danger was more trouble than any amount of coin was worth.

That, and he’d rather not see his companion be mauled or swallowed whole by a monster. 

Sometimes, however, Jaskier’s presence during a job could actually be useful. Like it or not, Geralt had to put him to work.

“This isn’t my first time playing irresistibly seductive meat-sack, you know,” huffed the meat-sack in question, carefully fastening his lute to a pack strung along Roach’s side. When Jaskier looked up at Geralt, his eyes glittered. Whatever thrill he got from being in mortal peril, it was probably worrying. “Practically used to it by now. Could make it a profession. Thank the gods I’m here, too, or what else would you have done? Picked up a nice, juicy steak from the market, and dressed it up like a toddler?”

Geralt snorted, unsheathing a dagger from his belt. It was a small, silver-bladed thing — better for throwing than stabbing, though it could be useful at close range. The hilt was almost too small for his hands. In Jaskier’s, it fit perfectly.

“Only if you need it,” he said. Jaskier gripped the blade, eyes wide with fascination, before nodding and tucking it into his own belt. “Quick slashes. If you have to stab, stab deep.”

Of course, Jaskier couldn’t fight, and he certainly didn’t stand a chance against a monster… but at least he wouldn’t be completely helpless.

So, Jaskier was sent on ahead, and did what he did best — played the oblivious fool. Only when he’d blustered along the mountainside for about ten minutes, leading Roach along as the Witcher silently trailed them both, did their plan show signs of success. In the distance, a few rocks shifted. Pebbles rolled down the mountainside. The faint trill of birdsong went quiet.

Jaskier had been humming to himself, but his voice cut off abruptly. His head raised; he glanced around. That was all he had time to do before a blur suddenly shot out of the cave, launching itself at him.

And another, and another — more than Geralt expected.

In a few swift bounds, he was in the middle of the fray, cutting Devourers down in midair. This was just enough time for the bait to make his escape. With the battle begun, Jaskier leapt on top of Roach and sped off — “somewhere safe”, Geralt had told him.

So maybe Geralt was the fool, for assuming the hapless bard could look after himself. At any rate, he trusted Roach to keep Jaskier out of trouble; the horse always had more sense than he did, anyhow. 

An hour, maybe, or less — that’s how long it took for Geralt, covered in Devourer blood and a few new scratches, to follow the trail his horse and companion left, only to come up empty handed. Not being able to hear Jaskier’s annoying caterwaul was the first sign of trouble. Coming across a lute in the bushes, smashed and abandoned, was the second.

Picking up the remnants of the familiar instrument, Geralt’s hands tightened around the wood; he sighed through his nose, barely able to restrain his own frustration.

Served him right for letting Jaskier near his bloody horse... and letting them both out of his sight.

Witcher senses were better honed for tracking than even the most astute hunter. It also helped that the bandits didn’t bother to cover their tracks well. The left a trail of broken twigs, snapped branches, and footprints behind them. However much of a head start the group — Geralt counted five sets of footprints, maybe six — had on him, it didn’t take long to track them down.

Even so, it took long enough. Too long.

He could smell the blood before the noises reached his ears. Perhaps the senses hit at the same time, and he just didn’t register; as soon as that metallic tang hit his nose, all-too-familiar, Geralt saw red. Blood meant nothing on its own, but this blood held a familiar scent — he’d recognize it anywhere. It was as familiar to him as that annoying voice, or that smirk any time Jaskier said something he thought was particularly funny. Blood could belong to anyone, but Jaskier’s blood was his, and Geralt could smell a lot of it.

Blood, and noise, and shouting — not Jaskier’s voice, but a stranger’s rough tone, spitting venom in a language Geralt faintly recognizes. A horse’s frustrated wail. Sharpening blades. And underneath it all… a strangled whimper.

Geralt found the bandits’ campsite.

As for whatever happened at the campsite… well, he couldn’t be held responsible.

By the time the last of the thieves took off running into the forest, stumbling over himself in horror, the bandits’ camp was utterly quiet. Before his body hit the tree, the big one had been making an awful lot of noise. So was the quick one, when he hissed at Geralt and tried to draw his sword; thankfully, Geralt was quicker. Now, in the silence, with nothing but his heavy breathing as he came back to awareness, Geralt could see everything.

Roach was unharmed, tied to a tree. She stomped her feet as Geralt came closer, as if applauding his quick work… but Geralt’s attention turned in a second, from her to the other side of the clearing. Silence reigned there as well, and it was unnerving. 

Jaskier was never silent. Jaskier didn’t know how to be silent. 

The figure slumped against the base of the tree, chest bound with rope and head bowed, did not make a sound.

The stench of blood grew overwhelming the closer Geralt got. He had to force himself not to focus on it. Instead, he honed in on Jaskier’s heart, beating a steady rhythm in his chest. Not faltering, not stuttering — he was alive, then. Unconsciously, a sigh of relief escaped Geralt, loud in the silent woods.

Then he saw the blood staining a head of dark hair, trailing down Jaskier’s jaw.

“Shit.” Immediately, he dropped to one knee, hand finding his companion’s shoulder. The battered captive’s face scrunched you in pain when Geralt gripped it. “Jaskier. Hey! Jaskier.” Unwilling to hurt him any further, Geralt shook his companion lightly. “Wake up.”

It was just enough — or maybe the pain from Geralt’s touch pulled him back into wakefulness. Jaskier stirred, head sluggishly rolling on his shoulders. For a moment, he struggled to lift it, as though his skull were filled with lead rather than gray matter. When he finally managed, he blinked sluggishly up at Geralt, pupils blown wide. Concussion, then, Geralt thought, and had to bite back another curse.

“Ah hah — the mighty Witcher!” Jaskier’s head fell back like a doll’s; still, he offered Geralt a wide grin. His teeth were stained with blood, from the busted corner of his lip. “Knew you’d come for me. It was only a matter of time. Caught about half that fight, I think. Just half. Til you threw that one lad down the hill.”

Was it any surprise that even half-senseless, Jaskier still didn’t know how to shut up? Geralt just took it as a good sign that he was talking. While the bard blathered on, he busied himself checking Jaskier over for further injuries. His shoulder was probably dislocated; he’d have some colorful bruises in the morning; there were a few deep scratches along his face and bare forearms, like he’d been dragged through brush…

“Mmm. Geralt. Hey.” Jaskier’s movement was sudden — like a marionette unable to control his own limbs, his arm raised, landing heavily on Geralt’s shoulder. When Geralt looked up, Jaskier’s head was lolling to the side. He seemed to be putting in a valiant effort to stay awake. Half opened eyes remained trained on Geralt, warm with an emotion Geralt could not name, but left him feeling immensely guilty. He should have gotten here sooner. He shouldn’t have let Jaskier out of his sight in the first place.

“Look,” said Jaskier — and, very deliberately, nodded towards the thug still crumpled at the base of a nearby tree. The tree’s trunk had a dent in it. Geralt wished he’d thrown him harder. “In the pockets,” insisted Jaskier, giving Geralt a weak push of encouragement.

Bemused, Geralt made his way over; hoisting the thug’s body up by the back of his jacket, he shook him out for any spare bits. A shower of gold pieces greeted him, along with a pair of rings… and a silver-bladed dagger, stained with blood. Geralt lifted the familiar blade, frowning at it. When his gaze turned to Jaskier again, a grin, bleary but proud, greeted him.

“Jus’ like you said,” Jaskier slurred, then let out a dry crackle of laughter. “I stabbed ‘im deep. And they did not appreciate that, let me tell you —“

“Damn it, Jaskier,” Geralt muttered, hand tightening around the blade.

Yet another mistake to tally for the day. Giving Jaskier a weapon was supposed to keep him out of trouble, not damn him deeper.

Without bothering to clean it off, Geralt rounded on Jaskier, blade clutched in his hands. Jaskier’s unfocused gaze tracked his approach with obvious effort. However hard he was trying to stay awake, he was fighting a losing battle. Even so, not a flicker of fear crossed Jaskier’s face at the sight of a hulking Witcher, advancing with a blade in hand.

Geralt cut Jaskier’s bonds in a few quick strokes. As soon as he was no longer bound to the tree, Jaskier slumped forward. It took Geralt’s quickest reflexes to lurch sideways, catching him before he could hit the ground. A dead weight in his arms, Jaskier let out a small moan.

“What is it?” Geralt demanded. As he shifted the injured man into an easier position, Jaskier inhaled sharply, face twisting up in pain. Another groan sounded through clenched teeth, but a second later Jaskier forced a strained smile.

“Kicked me in the chest — more than once.”

Geralt didn’t need to test the statement any further. As gently as he was capable of being, he eased Jaskier back against the tree. Broken ribs would be more of a headache than all of Jaskier’s other injuries combined, but hopefully he didn’t shatter so easily. Human bodies were so fragile; Geralt saw it every day, of course, in the remains of men torn apart by monsters. Seeing it firsthand was different. Seeing Jaskier, of all people, wounded and in pain… something in Geralt’s chest was drawn tight, like a clenched fist, and the more his companion swallowed back sounds of pain, the tighter it got.

“Better get you up, then,” he muttered. Jaskier nodded, face still screwed up. A long moment passed before his hand tightened on Geralt’s shoulder, and it took yet another moment before he managed to hoist himself upright.

Finding his feet was another challenge. Geralt did his best to offer support without brutalizing Jaskier’s injuries further. No sooner did he pull himself up, however, than Jaskier began to teeter. When his gaze slipped out of focus, Geralt’s arm twined around him. He caught him just as Jaskier’s knees began to buckle.

A yell shattered the illusion of quiet around them, ripping through Jaskier’s body like a physical attack. As fresh pain rippled through his chest, he shoved away from Geralt, who released him without protest. For a moment, it seemed certain that Jaskier would topple. His breathing heavy, each gasp an effort that nearly knocked him sideways, he finally managed to find his feet. Wide eyed, he gazed at Geralt, twisting a protective arm around his chest.

“I’m — I’m okay.” Jaskier put a hand up. “I’m fine. But next time — next time I fall, Geralt, don’t bother catching me.”

Geralt arched an eyebrow. In response, Jaskier shook his head. “I can manage on my own.”

And to his credit, he did. He managed to get on Roach, at least, and the horse carried him back the rest of the way. Jaskier didn’t lose consciousness once, no matter how his head lolled or his senses drifted. Geralt didn’t mind the slurred ramblings, weaving their way through utter nonsense. Only when Jaskier went silent did he worry. Each time, he looked up to find his friend fading, blue eyes half-shut, head falling against his shoulder. Geralt gave a bruising pinch to the flesh of his arm, and Jaskier awoke again.

The nearest inn was a night’s ride from their campsite, and it was getting dark already. By the time they made it back, there seemed little sense going any further, especially with Jaskier in his state. He fell into his bed as soon as Geralt had it laid out on the ground, and did not have the energy to raise his head, even when Geralt offered him a sip of much-needed water.

“‘M fine,” Jaskier muttered. His muted tone suggested he was anything but; Geralt wouldn’t argue, though, if rest was really what Jaskier needed. 

“We need to set your shoulder,” he remarked, keeping his voice low for Jaskier’s benefit. “And clean the blood from your head. That wound ought to be bandaged.”

Jaskier nodded along slowly, as thought everything Geralt was saying made perfect sense. His eyes were closed, expression unchanging, so however much he really understood was anyone’s guess. Frowning, Geralt took the liberty of wetting a cloth himself. Hesitating for just long enough to wonder which decisions in his life brought him to this point — to caring so deeply for someone so easily breakable, so human — he set the cloth against Jaskier’s bloodied face. As the grime was sponged away, Jaskier could not help but sigh in relief.

“That’s the stuff,” he muttered. “All I need. Just… rest, Geralt? Can we? Is that okay?”

Geralt considered him for a moment. “Yes, Jaskier. We can rest awhile.”

This was all he needed to hear. Jaskier smiled, setting his head back down on his pack once more; as his eyes drifted shut, Geralt fought off an instinctive flash of worry. Hand tightening around the damp cloth, he brought it back to Jaskier’s face, and continued cleaning the remnants of that bloody encounter.

Next time they faced down monsters, he might think twice about letting Jaskier out of his sight… but no matter what trouble he fell into, Geralt would always be there to pull him out.

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Lessons In Love [Part Fifteen]

Fandom: American Actor, RPF, Marvel Actor, 

Pairing: Chris Evans x Original Female Character, Tom Hiddleston x Origininal Female Character

Characters: Chris Evans, Tom Hiddleston, Original Female Characters, Erin O’Connell, Maria Vega, 

Word Count: 41,176  // Rating:Mature

Warnings: AU, Chris isn’t famous, Friendship, friends to lovers, violence, guns, stalking, jealousy, featuring bad tom Hiddleston, Chris Evans, Tom Hiddleston, OC, OFCs, Erin O’Connell, Maria Vega, Friendship, Friends, Friends to lovers, Blossoming Friendship, Violence Stalking, AU, Kidnapping, Angst, Fluff ANger BFFS, Guns Gun Violence, Flirting, Established relationship Sebastian Stan, Trust Issues, Lawyers, Slow Burn, Romance, Cuddling

Summary: She’s never been lucky in love and it’s about to get even worse.

Note: Completed Series. Updated 11/2022

Tags: @isaxhorror @patzammit @lilypalmer1987

ALL PARTS // AO3 LINK // PINTEREST LINK

Though Tom didn’t come to my house over the next couple of days I couldn’t settle. I knew he wasn’t around because I couldn’t stop myself getting up and checking through the window. I’d go to every window and scout the street for that familiar SUV.  I’d make up chores, reasons for me to be in the garden. I’d taken the trash out four times today just so that I could look down the street properly. I knew he wasn’t going to show up. I figured he had wanted to speak to me that night and when he found the house empty he had sped off in temper but had gotten over it and chose not to try again.  That was what I kept telling myself anyhow. The other idea, that niggled at the back of my brain was that he had been watching the house. This was also put into overdrive by the fact the phone continued to ring with no one on the other end. I refused to believe the two were connected. Eventually, I was driven so crazy by my own chaotic mind I had to get out of the house. 

I drove for around forty-five minutes deciding what to do. I tried a couple of work friends but they were busy. Maria was away at a business meeting in New York so wouldn’t be back all day so I was out of luck. Eventually, I headed into town to do some shopping. I lasted a few hours before I was bored with retail therapy and was heading home when I got a text from Chris.

I pulled out of the empty lot I had pulled into to text Chris and headed back in the direction I came. Deuxave wasn’t too far away and though I wasn’t prepared for having dinner plans and I was completely underdressed I headed there anyway. Chris was longer than anticipated but I busied myself at the bar before I felt a light tap on my shoulder. I turned to find him standing behind me. We greeted one another and then were instantly escorted to our table. As we ate Chris asked about what had been going on in my life recently and I toyed with the idea of telling him about what I had found out about Tom. However, the more I thought about it the more I talked myself out of it. He would overreact, I was sure of it. I filled his questions with nonsense which was good. Though he did look at me suspiciously when I expressed concern about being alone for the weekend. Tom’s visit had unnerved me and Maria had offered to spend the weekend at my house until she had been told she had to go on a work trip. I tried to brush over it. He didn’t seem to notice. It was nice. I managed to get out of my head for an hour or two and before I headed home I had plans for the weekend.

Texts Unformatted

Chris Hey Erin Hey You alright? xx Chris Yep just finished work and wondered if you wanted to do anything Erin Like what? Chris  Dinner? Erin Okay where? Chris Devauxe? Erin Yep see you there Im not too far away Chris Okay see you in the bar doll x

[pbandjesse]

I am tired!! And it has me a bit low. But I'll have a snack soon and go to sleep and things will be better tonorrow. Jess just got back to New York and i miss her already.

Today was a very fun day. I slept pretty well last night. We got up at 9 and got dressed and ready to go have breakfast with James. We walked to the harbor and got there right at 10.

IHOP wasnt that busy but the hostess was wocked confused and said it would be a half hour wait. But then sat a bunch of people that came in after us. She actually put our name down on thr wrong page. So the waitress i spoke to to see what was up just sat us and it was all good. James was running late anyhow.

We got our drinks and James came and it was so nice to see him. Even if he smelled like Taney and was real sleepy. We had to wait a bit but our food came out (some was a bit wrong but close enough) and it was fun hanging out and we were all full and sleepy at the end.

But off to the zoo we went. James went home to rest and we took a car up to thr Maryland zoo.

It was a lot of fun. Cold out but I had a blast. No people. No strollers!! And because it was cold all the animals were out and we got to see so many neat critters. I liked seeing the animals eat. The bats were great. Thr goat petting zoo was the best. I got to brush them and they chewed on my coat and dress and it made me laugh.

We got photo strips and took instax pics. Got to see the pretty flamingos. And then headed home.

We called a car and when we got back to my place we made sure Jess was packed up. Charged phones. I took the trash out. And took the kitchen stuff we sorted out to the hall with a free sign. If no one takes anything after work tomorrow I'll probably put it outside. But I figured see if my neighbors wanted anything.

We headed out again to get a late, small, lunch. We went to doobys, a cafe I hadnt tries yet, and we got avocado toast and the place is very cute and I will for sure try more things there.

We got back to my place and watched goofy videos until she had to leave for the bus. Goodbye Jess. I'll see you soon!!

Once she left I realized how tired i was. But i decided to run to the grocery store. I wanted to make a pastry. And when i got back i took a really nice bath. Haf some issues because i forgot to put the drain stopper in. And then accidently knocked it open and lost my water twice. Annoying. But it was a nice bath.

I made dinner. Worked on my pastries. Made putfits for the week. And now im just really sleepy. My back was hurting a lot but really i just feel wicked sore. I'm going to stretch a bit and have some toast and go to sleep.

James is coming over in the morning. Possibly for tax purposes. Im looking forward to seeing the kids at work. Were working on portraits. I hope they have fun.

Good night everyone. Sleep well. Be safe.

[constel-langst-ions]

Lacking Something

DEAF LANCE AU that no one asked for

—

The team was back in the lounge after a hard mission, an extra member with them

Matt. Pidge tried to talk with him, but he in return only rapidly made motions with his fingers. Only Lance understand, and promptly lifted his right hand, and signed, ‘Are you deaf?’

Matt nodded vigrously, before clapping his hands together and pulling them apart in a swift motion, also pursing his lips. “Explosion?” Lance spoke, head tilted. Matt nodded, looking excited that someone understood.

The team only watched, confused by the signing. 'How do you know ASL so fluently?’ Matt signed to Lance, worry written on his face. His own letters were sloppy and slow.

Lance’s grin fell. 'I’m deaf. I had to learn as a young kid. So I’ve been doing it for years.’ Matt, at this discovery, made a sound of surprise. The team looked at him. Lance started frantically signing to Matt, Matt rapidly signing in return, eyes wide. 'Don’t say anything! They dont know!’ Lance made a gesture over his neck, implying that Matt dont say anything about it. He gulped and nodded.

“Uh, what’s going on?” Pidge questioned. Hunk shrugged and tapped Lance’s shoulder, gaining his attention. “Hey, Lance, why wont Matt talk to us?” Lance startles and intently stared at Hunk’s lips, Matt realizing that he was also crazy good at reading lips. So that’s how he got by.

“Matt is deaf, from an explosion, he said.” Lance explains, voice somewhat loud, but that was normal for him. “I know ASL because..” he trailed off for a moment, “I know because my.. sister, yeah, that’s it, was born deaf and I wanted to talk to her.” With his left hand, which was facing Matt, he translated. Matt looked suspicious.

“Well, anyhow, I need to talk to Matt. Uh, or sign. See you later!” With that, Lance was off, dragging Matt behind him. “Pidge, can you work your magic, and get us an ASL translator?” Shiro asked the brilliant girl. She smirked and nodded. Of course she could.

—

Lance dragged Matt into the kitchen and sat him down in the seat across from his own. He started signing again. 'So, have you dealt with any bigots about your deafness?’ Lance slowed his signing down, knowing Matt was knew. He chuckled and nodded, and lifted his hand. 'Of course. My allies dont understand it. We have to speak through weird telepathy things. I hate them. How about you?’ His sign was slow, and maybe a bit off, but Lance could still understand the basic idea.

'Naturally. I got picked on, and kids talked behind my back. Sometimes my older brothers would sneak up on me and scare me. Other times, my sisters would throw things over my shoulders, also scaring me. Only mom and dad made an effort to learn about my disability, cause dad was partially deaf.’ He sighed at the end, not noticing the paladins in the doorway, all with visors over their eyes to follow the conversation.

'Was the sister thing true?’ Matt tilted his head at Lance. He was curious. 'Partly. My cousin was born deaf and no one learned sign language for her. Only I could talk to her, and we bonded over it. We were close.’

'Were?’ Matt questioned. 'Did something happen?’ “Hmm?” Lance wondered aloud before nodding. 'Yeah. She still had some hearing left, so she got conchear implants. We weren’t as close after that, because she could hear and I couldn’t. She did like to describe sounds to me, though. We just didn’t have anything in common anymore.’ Lance shrugged, looking bored, but his eyes sad.

“You’re deaf?” Pidge screeched, Lance sensing her movement from the corner of his eye. He, too, screamed and jumped up, staring at her with wide eyes. “Uhhh, what was that, Pidge? I didn’t quite catch it.’ He chuckled awkwardly. Matt 'oohed’ behind him and when Lance when to glare, he saw Matt signing 'The car is out of the bag.’ With a smug smirk. Lance flipped him off and signed something the other paladins couldn’t quite read from their visors.

"I said you’re deaf?” She hissed. Lance paled significantly.

“Uh, no?”

“I just saw you sign it. I installed a software in our visors to translate ASL to english for us. How.. how did you do it?”

Lance went to pick up his hand, but dropped it. He spoke instead. “I learned to lip read from a young age, and B- I mean, Red, translated things for me on missions, into my head. I didn’t want to be a burden.” He scratched the back of his neck, voice still loud.

“No wonder you have volume control issues. You can’t hear yourself!” Keith exclaimed, astonished. The whole concept was new to him.

Lance sheepily nodded. “Yeah, I just brushed it off as being a 'douche’, I guess. Sorry for not telling you sooner.”

Coran laughed. “Aw, m'boy, it’s alright. No more secrets.”

Lance laughed, echoing. “Yeah, Im lacking something, but I promise no more secrets.”

—

I know its bad but I have 4 other fics planned so pls dont kill me

I dont know asl so sorry for lack of description.

[raindrenchedstories]

After the sad

Remember that REALLY sad story? Ye....Here’s a continuation!

Cleaning out Richters old cage was just as hard as losing him. It was a part of him, in a way. And now his things were being packed up, and placed in a little box, left in the closet. Bear had to take a few cry breaks here and there.

Even though Archibald offered to help, Bear had told him it was just too hard to watch someone else do it. He was brushing off one of the pillows to be cleaned when something small and white fell out. A tiny letter.

Bear lifted this, running a hand over it. He took it to the story table and set it under the reading spell.  An image flickered up, that made Bear tear up. Richter sat in front of it smiling. A younger version of himself. The way Bear remembered him. Bright and cheerful. He shifted a few times, and spoke.

“Dear Bear. I feel like my time is coming soon. I’ve been more weary these days. It’s a struggle to even get out of bed some mornings.” The image grew older. As the realization that Richter wrote this only a short while ago dawned on Bear. “I’m not going to say ‘don’t cry’. In my opinion that’s the most selfish thing anyone can tell a loved one. Cry as much as you need to. But keep in mind. I was always happy in your care.”

The elderly Richter folded his hands smiling. “I think that’s why I kept going for so long. Because before meeting you, I didn’t have such a great life. It’s nice to have a reason to smile everyday. I’ve always tried to be the happiest thing in your life because of that. But I’m old, Bear. And I’m willing to bet bet that by the time you read this. I’ll be gone. OR you’re just cleanin’ the cage. And this fell out.” The image laughed.

“This... Kind of brings me to my... will of sorts. I haven’t anything to offer. To pass on to a loved one. If Neil’s still kickin’ around. Tell him he’s an asshole. But he was always a dear friend.” The old face just grinned madly.

“But before I get too sidetracked. Lord knows I will. Getting so old these days.” He seamed to drift off. “When you’re done grieving. When you feel ready. Take someone else in. I don’t want you to be alone. If you have it in you. Take someone who’s had the hardest time in life. The person no one wants. Take the one who looks like he had it the hardest. Because that’s what you did for me.” He smiled.

“I won’t hold it against you though. If you can’t. But... Don’t be alone. Okay?”

Bear just dropped to his knees. Eyes welling up a bit. “Oh! There’s a second letter around there too. That’s for whoever you take home. You can have Neil read it, if you like. But please, keep it around.”

Bear smiled. Laughing bitterly. “Did you EVER think about yourself?” Bear found the other letter, and stuffed it in his pocket. 

He visited Archibald a few days after, and let him see the letter. Spotting Neil with the grandchildren. Unlike Richter. Neil had chosen to take on a mate. And have a family. Which also had a family. It got to the point  where Archibald had tunnels running along his walls for a tiny community he was apparently raising.

Neil gave the giant a kindly smile. Presenting the new grandbaby for inspection by the giant. “I... I hope you don’t mind.” The mother squeaked in. “We named him after... HIM.” Everyone shuffled awkwardly.

Oddly, the baby kind of resembled Richter now. Bear just smiled. “That’s fine. He was your pa’s best friend after all. Hope you don’t mind if I call ‘im little R though.”

“Oh! Oh yes. That’s fine.” The baby was passed back. “Speaking of Richter... Er. Big R. He left you a message Neil.

“I’m an asshole?”

“You’re an asshole.”

Archibald chimed in with a; “Tell us something we DON’T know.” The three shared a laugh. Archibald leaned in with a little sigh.

“So... What are you here for?” He passed Bear a fresh cup of tea smiling.

“I’m carrying out his will.” Everyone froze a moment. The woman giving a little cough.

“Are you sure it isn’t too soon?”

“If I live alone much longer, it’ll be too late. I miss him. Gods do I miss him. But he wanted this so... So I’m heading down to the shelter. Would you like to come along Arch?”

Archibald slung back his tea at an alarming rate. “Sure. Let me get my coat.”

The shelter was rather empty. Not many humans returned after being adopted. Not many needed to. The happy house shelter screened the owners heavily enough that both Bear and Archibald had the moral equivalent of a criminal records check. As well as a few actual criminal record checks. Oh, and a few doctors checks as well.

It was worth it. Once you passed those, you were in the system, and could adopt at any time. They checked in, and were led to the back.

One or two men and woman had been shy. But to Bears knowledge, that was normal. And many of them were social enough to talk with him. One woman even excitedly yapped at him for perhaps an hour. In reality it was only a few minutes. But it felt like an hour. “I’m sorry sweetie. You’re a bright girl, very sweet. But Well...”

He shuffled, heart breaking at the crestfallen look in her eyes. “My last pet left me instructions in his will. I’m sorry hun. Otherwise I’d take you home in a heartbeat.”

She perked up a little, smiling sadly. “Oh. What where the instructions? Maybe I can help.” 

“Thank you. He told me to find the one who looks like he or she needs the home. Like they’ve never had a happy day in their lives.” Bear looked around, trying to spot anyone matching the description. The girl motioned for him to come closer.

“Otis. The one in 3B. There’s no way he’ll get a loving home otherwise. He’s... Not great with giants. Or anyone really.” She spoke softly. Bear smiled a moment.

“Thank you.”

Approaching Otis was an ordeal in and out of it’s self. Both men went wide eyed with the colorful language he used. Apparently worse then Neil. Threatening plausible things even.

That said, Otis kept ducking further and further back. Flattening himself against the wall. Bear heaved a sigh. Then nodded. “Yep. Him.”

Otis’ voice raised in pitch. “NO! NO NOT HIM! JUST LEAVE ME BE!” He attempted to duck into the privacy of the ‘restroom’. Bear just shook his head. Watching as the man smashed his face against the door.

He spoke with the lady at the counter. And waited out front. There was a series of screams, loud enough to get through even giant walls. Both men leaned back. Archibald leaning closer to Bear. “Are... Are you sure about this?”

“It was Richters last wish. I don’t care if Otis hates me all his life. I only care that he’s in a good place.” The box was shoved into Bear. The lady behind the counter, shaken up and bedraggled.

Her hand badly scratched, bit, and bruised. “I wish you luck sir. You’re a damned saint for even attempting.” She growled. Otis could still be heard inside the oddly reinforced box. Pulling what cardboard there was away.

“What’s this guy’s history anyhow?” Archibald eyed the screaming bundle.

“Simply put. He was used in an illegal fighting ring. When he wasn’t fighting he was... well. Let’s just say he doesn’t trust giants OR humans. Or anything else for that matter.” The woman blinked at the box.

Letting humans duke it out was actually legal. A pet could uphold their masters honor when it came to dealing with smaller people. But the fights were NEVER deadly. Never allowed to wound or cripple. Never for the sheer sake of blood sport. The worst you could leave was a bruise.

Illegal fighting rings would pit humans and other pet beings against each other to the death. If not one another, then an animal like a Chimera or manticore. People who survived long enough, were bred and retired. Which meant even humans owned by the same person, would turn on one another, just to survive.

“Right. He’s perfect then.”

“NO I’M NOT!”

[strawberryspeachy]

Part 1))- washed my hair today. It’s doing that thing where it does those cute giant curled parts. I get my hair permanently straightened. It costs me anywhere from 100-180 dollars every 6 or so months. I have been the one pay for this since 2010. However. My mother is the one who initially found a place offering the service I wanted in Philly — granted I didn’t go to the one she found cause it was like a class of some sort and I found a better place down the road in Chinatown. But credit to her for being the only one to listen to me in the 2 years I was pleading to get the Japanese thermal straightening

——- about a year ago when she saw my hair doing this she went on rant about how she’s paying so much money for my hair to be straight why is it curled.

Of all the things I complain about in regards to my hair.... it’s amazing that... just that. I’ve never complained about the random waviness my straightened hair will get sometimes. 1) it’s random 2) is mostly straight which is 10000x better than the growth I’m currently dealing with since I haven’t gone in almost 8 months. Really tight super spiral curls that only look that way right out of the water. All they do is frizz and tie together. I spent 40 minutes brushing JUST THE GROWTH and my hair doesn’t even grow fast. And everytime I have to brush huge knots out of my hair I’m reminded why I hated having curly hair my whole life and why it was always in two braids.

One of the best thing about having straight hair is the ability to wake up and walk out of the house. I couldn’t do that with curly hair. The knots are so bad that putting a had one just pulls it all in the wrong way and hurts AND the knots are too big to even fit the hat on my head. And that’s just from sleeping.

Part 2)) my hairs been falling out due to stress the past few years. It started in 2014 when my entire college friend group left me. And then I became bulimic and tried to kill myself several times and my hair decreased in length by half. The next time I got severe loss is when I took that birth control shot and I had hair loss the last time I tried birth control... and for the past two years I’ve just been super stressed and when to the dermatologist to see if anything else was wrong (granted last time I went she did offer to give me a biopsy but I don’t want to lose MORE never growing back hair forbit or encase I gotta go get ANOTHER esp since) she listed about 20 stressers that cause hair loss and I have 19 of them

So yea stress makes me lose hair

I’ve always shed more in the winter anyhow

ANDDD when I had curly hair I lost enough hair all the time for me mom to look in the drain and be like !!!!!!!!!!! And I was just like oh yeah no that’s normal. And I had pretty thick hair through school despite that —— that said when new growth comes in I’m like - yea that’s probably normal.

soooooooo years ago before my mom got bad she made a side comment about our house having “hard water” and told me it meant there’s more proteins in it so it bad for our skin and hair. I didn’t have either problem at the time and was like. Hm I guess the protiens are good for me. —- cause I’m dumb. And I haven’t thought much about it since.

Well I got my hair chemically straightened my senior year of high school and thus left for college soon after.

While I was in college I was super into beauty tutorials and did diu treatments all summer when I was home. And I guess the combination of helping my hair to stop the hard water damage and the fact that I had to wash egg out so I wasn’t super surprised to see a lot of hair come out... made me not think too much on it...

During short breaks I was still under the initial repulsion one gets upon entering my house and generally decided I’d wait till I got back to school to wash my hair

All that said. So i washed my hair at my House form 2015-2017. 2016 I had the depo shot.

End of 2017 my best friend moved back home. I’ve always basically lived at her house and since she was back I spent a lot of time going over to visit her. And because she has an actual shower and a cleaner house it’s seemed a lot easier to just wash my hair at her house a lot. Espeshally in the summer when I went over to swim all the time. And my hairs been growing and getting thicker.

Then I started working at the haunted house at the end of September and noticed my hair was an absolute mess. I attributed to having to wash it EVERY DAY which I generally don’t do.

I’ve been looking back at pics to see what’s going on since cause the year before my hair wasn’t that bad. In fact it was quite nice. Though I have forgotten I did give in to taking my mother to the gym periodically because she nagged me and they had a shower which is much easier than a bathtub.

Wel when I started working at the haunted house. I got home late and was tired so I started washing my hair at home mostly. And since then I’ve been super miserable and haven’t wanted to leave my house.

Last night While looking up if the chlorine was to blame for my hair loss (cause I did notice my hair get really bad a few years ago from swimming in cholorine) it said th coconut oil I was protecting my hair with should have worked but in the same post said hard water was to blame for this kind of problem

Anddddddddd

Suddenly I realized all that I just wrote.... apparently hard water can have PERMANENT LASTING DAMAGE TO THE HAIR FOLICULES SO IM SCARED OF THAT

And I guess it effects me more because the chemical straightening makes my hair weaker.

I was looking for some kind of filter but there are none for bathtubs

The ones for showers are like the Brita and need carterages and my grandfather would throw a fit at me for tampering with his shower anyway and having to share it with my family would mean if have to change it ALL the time

And the ones for the house are SUPER expensive

Sooooo

I went to my friends house to shower this morning..... guess I’m buying large water pails and refilling them at her house for when I have to wash my hair here

And dumb on me for not fogur by this put months ago and losing half my hair first.

I HAVE LOST HALF MY HAIR. ITS SUPER THIN. LIKE A THIRD OF WHAT IT WAS IN SEPTEMBER.

my longest couple strange are down to my butt. If I wasn’t so slow and stuper my hair could be the length I’ve wanted it to be for 20 years but no. Now it’s basically the same length it was 2 years ago cause the hair below was that point is so thin it barely counts as hair

I hate my life

[tbhstudying1]

can you review the glossier products you have? i bought the cleanser and balm dotcom a while back and i really like them + looking for some new products to try next !!

oh boy oh boy!! do i have WORDS !!!!!!! im EXCITE okay okay here we go!!!

i’m putting it under a cut since it’s kinda long ;; so sorry to mobile users who have to see this entire ESSAY i have on glossier (ok it’s not rly an essay but it’s still long aaa) + hope this helps :”)

my skin type: dry, sensitive (like,,, Super Sensitive)

also a disclaimer: glossier sent me some products for a pr thing but then ?? they went radio silent on me so idk if i was supposed to promote them or not, so i didn’t. anyhow!! these are still 100% my honest opinions. now, to talk about every glossier product i own:

milky jelly cleanser: love this binch, hella nice, hella smooth, leaves my skin feeling conditioned and soft which i’ve only experienced with one other cleanser (cetaphil)

balm dot com: i have it in rose, birthday, mint, and coconut, and listen!! i love every one!! i hate coconut stuff but i still like this one!! applicable to nearly any dry spot on the skin, soothes my chapped lips, cute packaging, good scent, love it (chef kiss, mwah)

boy brow in black: heLLO my LOVE !! listen, i’ve got pretty dark brows but this baby ELEVATES my brows to a godly level. it’s a gel that helps me smooth my brow hairs into place and i can comb them down a lil bit with the little spoolie brush thing. however, bc my brows are so dark already, i have to make sure to not use too much product ;; 

priming moisturizer: eh, this isn’t anything special. it doesn’t have spf and it’s pretty thin ? i use it for makeup primer bc it is decently okay-ish at that. it’s also unscented which is good. maybe it’s just me and my dumb habit of squishing make-up tubes real hard, but i find it hard to control the amount of product that comes out. would i buy again? nah.

priming moisturizer rich: well, it’s definitely thicker and more moisturizing than the regular one. however, it’s scented and heavier, so i’m rly scared to put it on my sensitive face ;; it’s also in a tub and idk how sanitary that is. i’ve been using it as a hand cream though, and my hands are super soft :) 

glossier solution: hands down the most disappointing purchase i’ve ever made at glossier. it didn’t work, and it felt like it didn’t rly suit my skin type. i didn’t rly notice any changes other than the fact that it kinda ??? dried out my skin even more? maybe folks with oily skin might prefer this more, but idk,,,,,, i have more than 80% of the bottle and idk what to do with it. 

skin tint in medium: it’s. sheer. like, rly sheer. i like it bc it evens out my skin’s redness which is a major issue that i have with it, but i honestly don’t think that it’s worth the money or the effort. even ppl who want sheer coverage might wanna look at a different bb cream than this.

stretch concealer in medium: i rly like this one! it’s smooth and creamy and easily blends it. i just dab it on my dark circles, set with powder, and then sprint off to wherever i have to go. idk how it compares to other concealers though bc i just haven’t used that many ;;

cloud paint in beam: im…. just…. not…. a blush girl….. idk, maybe it’s my constant skin redness, but im never satisfied with the way blush looks on my face. bc of that, i just haven’t experimented or used enough of this blush to rly have a solid opinion on it. it’s hard to control product portioning though ;; a little bit goes a long way, but a large glob always pops out :(

lash slick: i was surprised to see that this mascara rly works in making your lashes longer!! it also comes off more easily than other mascaras. however, it’s a very natural look and it doesn’t rly give your lashes more volume compared to others. i still rly like it tho + when i wanna give my lashes some more OOMPH, i combine it with one of maybelline’s volume mascaras to give them both length and volume. (such a pain to take off though…… i hate taking off mascara)

glossier you: i received this as a sample tube, but it’s rly quite nice! i enjoy the smell and at first, it has this warm scent, but after it stays on for a while and/or if i start to sweat, it turns into this amazing vanilla scent. i’d like to buy more, but i cannot afford the $60 perfume :( i might get the travel solid version tho

things i would like to get but haven’t tried yet: glossier you travel solid perfume, lip gloss, masks, haloscope, wowder

things i’m not interested in: serums, lidstar, body hero, other shades of cloud paint

from for the dreams i want to catch https://ift.tt/2nLUAuM See More

[tbhstudying]

can you review the glossier products you have? i bought the cleanser and balm dotcom a while back and i really like them + looking for some new products to try next !!

oh boy oh boy!! do i have WORDS !!!!!!! im EXCITE okay okay here we go!!!

i’m putting it under a cut since it’s kinda long ;; so sorry to mobile users who have to see this entire ESSAY i have on glossier (ok it’s not rly an essay but it’s still long aaa) + hope this helps :”)

my skin type: dry, sensitive (like,,, Super Sensitive)

also a disclaimer: glossier sent me some products for a pr thing but then ?? they went radio silent on me so idk if i was supposed to promote them or not, so i didn’t. anyhow!! these are still 100% my honest opinions. now, to talk about every glossier product i own:

milky jelly cleanser: love this binch, hella nice, hella smooth, leaves my skin feeling conditioned and soft which i’ve only experienced with one other cleanser (cetaphil)

balm dot com: i have it in rose, birthday, mint, and coconut, and listen!! i love every one!! i hate coconut stuff but i still like this one!! applicable to nearly any dry spot on the skin, soothes my chapped lips, cute packaging, good scent, love it (chef kiss, mwah)

boy brow in black: heLLO my LOVE !! listen, i’ve got pretty dark brows but this baby ELEVATES my brows to a godly level. it’s a gel that helps me smooth my brow hairs into place and i can comb them down a lil bit with the little spoolie brush thing. however, bc my brows are so dark already, i have to make sure to not use too much product ;; 

priming moisturizer: eh, this isn’t anything special. it doesn’t have spf and it’s pretty thin ? i use it for makeup primer bc it is decently okay-ish at that. it’s also unscented which is good. maybe it’s just me and my dumb habit of squishing make-up tubes real hard, but i find it hard to control the amount of product that comes out. would i buy again? nah.

priming moisturizer rich: well, it’s definitely thicker and more moisturizing than the regular one. however, it’s scented and heavier, so i’m rly scared to put it on my sensitive face ;; it’s also in a tub and idk how sanitary that is. i’ve been using it as a hand cream though, and my hands are super soft :) 

glossier solution: hands down the most disappointing purchase i’ve ever made at glossier. it didn’t work, and it felt like it didn’t rly suit my skin type. i didn’t rly notice any changes other than the fact that it kinda ??? dried out my skin even more? maybe folks with oily skin might prefer this more, but idk,,,,,, i have more than 80% of the bottle and idk what to do with it. 

skin tint in medium: it’s. sheer. like, rly sheer. i like it bc it evens out my skin’s redness which is a major issue that i have with it, but i honestly don’t think that it’s worth the money or the effort. even ppl who want sheer coverage might wanna look at a different bb cream than this.

stretch concealer in medium: i rly like this one! it’s smooth and creamy and easily blends it. i just dab it on my dark circles, set with powder, and then sprint off to wherever i have to go. idk how it compares to other concealers though bc i just haven’t used that many ;;

cloud paint in beam: im.... just.... not.... a blush girl..... idk, maybe it’s my constant skin redness, but im never satisfied with the way blush looks on my face. bc of that, i just haven’t experimented or used enough of this blush to rly have a solid opinion on it. it’s hard to control product portioning though ;; a little bit goes a long way, but a large glob always pops out :(

lash slick: i was surprised to see that this mascara rly works in making your lashes longer!! it also comes off more easily than other mascaras. however, it’s a very natural look and it doesn’t rly give your lashes more volume compared to others. i still rly like it tho + when i wanna give my lashes some more OOMPH, i combine it with one of maybelline’s volume mascaras to give them both length and volume. (such a pain to take off though...... i hate taking off mascara)

glossier you: i received this as a sample tube, but it’s rly quite nice! i enjoy the smell and at first, it has this warm scent, but after it stays on for a while and/or if i start to sweat, it turns into this amazing vanilla scent. i’d like to buy more, but i cannot afford the $60 perfume :( i might get the travel solid version tho

things i would like to get but haven’t tried yet: glossier you travel solid perfume, lip gloss, masks, haloscope, wowder

things i’m not interested in: serums, lidstar, body hero, other shades of cloud paint