#anyway not my best work but I do like the detail on the sky

[beneaththeshadows]

I made this last year while trying to figure out how to shade. I had picked 3 chapters to sketch something about them, either a scene or something else, and for Dany V AGOT, I couldn't, for the sake of me, bring myself to do something I was satisfied with, so I decided to do something more on the "mystical" side of things and this was the result

[navybrat817]

I wish I had a smitten Bucky. Just sees me and wants me. 🥺

I know the feeling, nonnie.

Check Yes or No

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky instantly falls for you, but waits to ask you out.

Word Count: Over 2.1k

Warnings: Fluff, could be seen as instalove on Bucky's side, attraction, slight insecurities, minor time jump, Alpine being the best, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I can't send Bucky your way, lovelies, so I hope you enjoy this short, surprise fic! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky wasn't looking for love the day he met you, but it found him anyway.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve greeted from his seat when he walked into the conference rooms and nodded to the spot beside him that you occupied. “I’d like you to meet our newest transfer. She’s also moving into the Tower.”

He was a changed man the moment your eyes met. Breathtaking was a word to describe you given how he had forgotten to breathe. He had witnessed many sunrises and sunsets in his life, a kaleidoscope of colors painted in the sky to both soothe and awaken the soul. They paled in comparison to the beauty before him.

One glance and he belonged to you completely.

“Hi, Bucky. It’s nice to meet you.”

While he wasn't sure if Heaven existed, you speaking his name was like hearing the voice of an angel.

“I’m Bucky.”

Of all the things he could've said, reiterating his name was what his mouth went with.

Instead of giving him a weird look or brushing him off when he scowled at himself, you smiled. “I look forward to us working together.”

Bucky couldn't tell you what the meeting was about that day, but he remembered the details about you. The way you leaned forward in your seat to pay extra attention when someone else spoke, also giving him an ample view of your chest before he reminded himself not to stare. The slight crease in your forehead when you jotted down an important note. And the soft giggle you let out when Steve cracked a joke.

He suddenly wished he was funnier.

“Have a good rest of the day, Bucky,” you said when the meeting ended.

Bucky didn't have to try to smile with you. It just came naturally. When you smiled back, it was easy to imagine what it would be like if you were his girl.

“You, too,” he replied, giving himself a mental victory for not screwing up his words this time. “Wait!”

You paused and looked at him expectantly. “Yeah?”

Bucky realized he had no reason to keep you from leaving. He just didn't want you to go. “Do you need help moving your stuff in?”

“I actually got my things moved in late last night, but thanks for the offer,” you replied, checking the time with wide eyes. “I'm so sorry. I have to go. I’m in 2L if you need anything!”

“Bye,” he called after you, turning in his chair to watch you go.

How did he miss you already?

Though Steve had a knowing look in his eyes, he graciously kept his mouth shut as he left the room. He reminded him an hour later that he wouldn't break any bylaws by asking you out. The punk somehow knew that you weren't seeing anyone.

Which made him happy.

While he appreciated Steve looking out for happiness, he still had to get his head on straight.

“Once I completely trust my own mind, maybe I will,” Bucky said, even though the stuff was already out of his head. He owed it to himself to take his time. And you.

Imagine his surprise when he found a note from you on his door the next day.

Hey, Bucky! Lunch on me today? Check YES or NO.

The lopsided grin on his face wouldn't go away when he read it again. You must've been interested in him enough to ask about him. How else did you know his apartment number? Why else would you ask him to lunch?

He nearly shouted “YES” in the hall before he came to his senses and simply checked the option before he returned the note to your apartment door.

When he met up with you later, he told himself it wasn't a date. It couldn't be, right? It didn't keep his heart from stopping when you answered your door. Dressed down and casual, you looked like an angel went to Earth just for him.

“Hey, Bucky,” you smiled. “Ready to go?”

He hadn't said much on the way to the cafe since he was too busy hanging on to your every word, but it was like he had known you for ages as you carried on the conversation. Your questions weren't invasive and you didn't seem to mind the occasional short answers. It was also the shortest meal of his life, over too soon for his liking, and he also refused to let you pay for his meal.

He wanted to show you that gentlemen still existed.

“Lunch again next week?” You offered.

“Sure,” he answered, his head spinning from giddiness.

But it wasn't a date.

It was time to change that.

Today was the day. Six months from the day he met you. Six months of chatting with you between missions and slowly getting to know you over weekly lunches. Six months of falling for you more and more each day and he finally worked up the courage to ask you out.

But falling was the easy part. Confessing was an entirely different story. He would either crash to the ground and hope his wounds would later heal or you’d catch him as he fell. No matter what, he wouldn't let his nerves get the better of him.

“Just like we practiced, okay?” Bucky asked.

“Meow.”

Alpine nuzzled her head against Bucky’s with a gentle purr when he huffed. She was his little partner-in-crime through and through. Like you, even though you didn't realize it, the little white ball of fur helped save him. He was fairly certain he wasn't supposed to bring her to this floor, but any reprimand would be worth it.

Besides, the Tower, office, anywhere they operated should allow them to have their pets with them, especially for emotional support.

“I'm counting on you,” he teased, placing the folded up piece of paper in her mouth. “Go.”

He peeked around the corner when he set Alpine down. The sun illuminated you from where you sat in the lounge, curled up in your normal spot on the sofa. You liked to relax there occasionally to read. He wondered what book you had with you today.

Thankfully, no one was around to disturb you.

Except for him.

“Alpine, is that you?” You asked when you looked up, closing the book as the cat approached you. While the feline was cautious of some, she warmed up to you immediately when you met and solidified that you were the one for him. “Whatcha got there? Where’s Bucky?”

His name spilling from your lips was still one of his favorite sounds.

He held his breath when Alpine jumped up beside you, opened her mouth, and dropped the paper in your lap. He immediately began to second guess himself when you unfolded it with a furrowed brow. Why did he think this was a good idea? Why didn't he just ask you like a normal guy?

To be fair, he hadn't been normal for some time.

“Will you go out with me? Check YES or NO. Love, Bucky,” you read out loud with a huge smile, which was enough to make his heart race. You giggled a moment later when Alpine bumped your hand, the soft noise making his stomach do a funny sort of flip. “Okay, okay. Let me get my pen out of my bag.”

Bucky exhaled a little as he moved to stand in the doorway. You didn't toss the paper away, so that had to be a good sign. He carefully kept himself from showing any outward emotion when you met his gaze, but his knees nearly gave out. His palms also began to sweat when you gave him a half smile.

Just when he thought you couldn't look more beautiful than you had the day before, you proved him wrong.

He ran a hand through his hair and hoped he looked halfway decent since he hadn't brushed it. But you commented a few weeks back that you liked it long when you saw an old photo, so he wanted to grow it out. He lost count of how many times he imagined your fingers in his hair

Maybe one day.

Watching you grab your pen, it was like he was drowning. The tide pulled him under as you made a mark on the sheet. His lungs burned when you handed it back to Alpine. He couldn't come up for air. He couldn't breathe.

Until you smiled again.

“Thanks, Alpine,” you said.

His cat gracefully walked back to Bucky and he swore he caught you trying not to giggle as she climbed up his leg. His heart hammered in his chest when he took the slip of paper from her mouth. Meeting your tender gaze, he couldn't bring himself to open it though.

After he told himself he wouldn't let his nerves get the better of him.

“Not going to see what my answer is?” You asked as he carried Alpine into the lounge.

“I want to,” he replied, sighing as he took a seat beside you. His cat was perfectly content to lay in his lap. “But I’m questioning if I did this the right way.”

The note you gave him for a simple lunch request may have been a small gesture in your eyes, but it meant the world to him. He thought by asking you out this way that he could give you something meaningful in return. Something that only the two of you shared.

That was all he wanted.

You turned toward him, your knee touching his. The small touch sent heat down his spine. “Open it and you’ll find out.”

He nodded, thankful that his vibranium hand didn't shake as he lifted the sheet. “Wait, let me say something before I do.”

The corner of your lip tugged as you tried not to smile. “Bucky-”

“I like you. I really like you. I have since the day we met. And I'm going to like you tomorrow. And the day after that and the day after that,” he admitted in a rush, catching your sharp inhale as he looked into your eyes. “But I know my past isn't easy to deal with. If you just want to be a teammate or colleague, that’s okay. Just. Being a part of your life in some way is more than enough.”

Alpine lifted her head and looked between the two of you, as if she was waiting with baited breath to see what would happen next.

Bucky felt a crack in his heart when you didn't speak or react, his body slumping slightly into the couch. It was okay. He took a chance and told you how he felt. He wouldn't force you to reciprocate.

“Bucky?” You asked above a whisper, reaching over to help him unfold the paper. He gasped when he saw the checkmark beside “YES”, blinking rapidly to make sure you picked that box. “I really like you, too.”

“You do?” He exhaled, grasping your hand with renewed joy. He was careful not to squeeze too hard. Hurting you was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

“Yeah. Pretty much since the day I met you,” you admitted, glancing in your lap before you met his gaze again. He saw stars in your eyes. “And your past isn't your fault, Bucky. You aren't something to ‘deal with’, okay? You’re a good man. I can give you a whole list of reasons if you need it.”

Physically, Bucky’s body was in peak condition. Your confession, however, caused all of the air to leave his lungs and made him weak in the best possible way. A familiar warmth moved through Bucky’s veins as he breathed again and it dawned on him at that moment that he hadn't felt cold since you walked into his life.

Not once.

Your faith in him gave him strength. Your mere existence gave him the courage to try. And he didn't have to go it alone.

“Wow,” he breathed, relieved and elated as he gave you a small smile. “How about tomorrow night?”

“It’s a date,” you smiled.

“Great,” he smiled back. A date. He couldn't wait to see the look on Steve's face when he told him that he finally asked you out.

“And I think the note was purrfect,” you teased at Alpine before you scrunched up your face. “I ruined the moment, didn't I?”

Bucky brought your hand to his mouth, kissing it as gently as he possibly could. He could hear your heart race. So was his. “Not at all.”

He knew it was too soon to say he loved you and it was likely too soon for you to feel that way about him, but he felt hope in your smile that you would one day.

For now, he had a date to plan all because you checked “yes”.

We know it'll be the best date ever, right? Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[stupidlittlespirit]

Rating: SFW (later chapters will be NSFW) Type: Long form, multi-chapter, Stanford Pines x Reader Tags: Mutual pining, no pronouns used, teasing, a special appearance from Stan, mentions of the kids, housekeeper!Reader, tw: my horrible jokes. Word count: 5,729 My other works: here on tumblr and here on Ao3! Ch.2 here

In which a simple expedition with Ford goes increasingly sideways and you learn more than enough about thermodynamics to last you a lifetime.

A/N: This has been quite an undertaking to produce. I created this fic as somewhat of a universe in which base a number of my post-portal!Ford one-shots etc in, and that meant I had to lay a lot of groundwork in it. I wanted to have a setting where I didn't need to keep giving background on what the Reader's role is and how/why they feel a certain way in every fic, and to also offer a kind of timeline that could be explored through future works. Because of that, in this fic there will be vague allusions to some small events happening to set us up for the current day and if people are interested in reading more about those events in full detail then I'd really love to explore them properly with you guys.

Just as an aside - Reader will mention they don't have a father in a throwaway line. It can be taken as just a joke or as literal. Up to you.

Anyway, most of this fic is already completed and I'll be posting a new chapter every couple of days or so. You can wait to read it all in one go or enjoy it in chapters. There will be roughly 5 in total. Enjoy!

Sometimes, in life, things align so perfectly that a person can't stop themselves from considering the possibility of cosmic interference.

Deities. The universe. Some other unseen, all powerful entity of murky origin. All of their existences seem far more plausible when events in one's life fall effortlessly into place and line up to give them the exact thing they've always wanted.

Today is one of those days.

You're busy chopping onions when the planets orient themselves for you.

The broad kitchen knife in your hand knocks rhythmically against the oak board underneath it with every slice you make and the little ribbons of milk-white flesh stack neatly between blade and vegetable, but your attention is, quite irresponsibly, elsewhere.

You really ought to be keeping track of your fingers but you're far too preoccupied with gazing out of the bay window in front of you to really care all that much. The thing is huge; its frame is rimmed with rich mahogany and it has one broad, square pane sitting in the centre, beset by two more, slimmer, rectangular pieces. It drinks in the waning daylight outside and on sunnier evenings, the pretty little stained panels that skirt the tops of each one glow a rich blue, showing off the depictions of constellations inside, like someone has captured part of the night sky and trapped it within the glass for their own private amusement.

Today, the clouds block the sun and the cerulean glass is dull, but you don’t mind too much. You’re not making use of the window to admire the art, lovely as it may be. You’re far more focused on what’s taking place on the lawn, beyond the bounds of the warm interior of the house.

Out on the well-kept grass, two figures are vigorously working out. Well, one is. The other looks like he’d rather keel over and die than spend another second out there, but he’s doing his best all the same and that’s what matters, you suppose.

Steam rises from Ford’s figure as he pauses in his work to help his nephew grip a mid-sized dumbbell correctly. It curls off and around his body like smoke, rising from its sweaty source and wafting into the unseasonably cool air. His cheeks are pink, likely both from exertion and the chill in the weather, and the colour blooms all the way across his face, stretching far enough to even tickle the tips of his ears.

He looks gorgeous.

Dressed in all-black, he’s wearing a short sleeve t-shirt and sweats, paired with dirty blue trainers. Where the skin of his throat and arms should be exposed, however, they’re instead wrapped up tight in what you presume to be some kind of fancy thermal shirt. You’ve never seen him wear anything that shows off his skin, yet somehow the way it clings to the curves of his biceps and forearms is even more revealing than seeing them bare.

Granted, this isn't the first time you've spied on one of his workout sessions like this (in almost exactly the same way), but every time he shows up, it feels like you've been blessed by the Heavens.

Ford, for what it’s worth, hasn’t noticed anything untoward. Not as far as you’re aware, anyway. He’s usually too lost in whatever he’s doing to pay you much mind and if he does catch your presence in the window, you’re always quick to make yourself look busy.

Ford works out four times a week, like clockwork, on the front lawn of the house he shares with his brother. He doesn't always have his nephew with him (Dipper clearly only ever wants to do his best for his great-uncle, however exercise is hardly the kid's forte and you can't say you blame him), which means that oftentimes you get the absolute pleasure of observing a clueless Ford lift weights and stretch his quads for sixty minutes whilst you break from your other chores to prepare them all dinner.

You've been working for the Pines’ for the better part of a year now and getting hired had been a complete accident:

Upon moving to Gravity Falls eighteen months ago and landing the first job you had come across in the local paper (an underpaid, exhausting waitressing gig at the local diner) you’d run into the kids one afternoon on a rare day off.

Mabel had almost smashed your ankle to bits after she and her brother had lost control of their overstuffed trolley and once they had finished their litany of apologies, you’d taken note of the cart’s contents: primarily filled with sugar riddled snacks and items with so little nutritional value that you’d been astounded they’d been legal to sell, neither one of the kids appeared to know how they were going to lug all their so-called food home or what they were going to make for dinner.

Without much else to do, you’d volunteered to lend a hand. They had explained their task: “Grunkle Stan says his back hurts too much to waste time in the store these days and he promised that if we helped, he’d make Grunkle Ford teach us how to drive so we can do it even faster!” Mabel had enthusiastically informed you, eyes bright and metaphorical tail bushy, and despite your confusion over the concept of a ‘Grunkle’, the idea of two apparently-just-turned fourteen year olds at the wheel had been less than thrilling.

Some gentle sweet talking had convinced them to swap out some of their items for things a little more suitable and you’d carried their bags back on a short walk to the house where you’d met the infamous Stan lounging on its porch, his feet up on some empty crates.

At Mabel’s excited introduction of you and her retelling of your recipe ideas, Stan had given you a once over before he’d asked how you felt about replacing the kids as dinner gofer. As it turned out, sending two hyperactive children out to get groceries every week had apparently (shockingly) not been working out too well for the older brothers, and one offer of help had turned into several paid offers.

After only a few short weeks of assisting them, you’d been offered a full time position as housekeeper. The decision to take them up on it had been easy; waitressing barely covered the bills for your decrepit little cabin on the outskirts of town and spending hours every day walking the same five metre route to and from the kitchen six days a week was monotonous enough that you’d been considering moving on anyway.

You’d jumped at the chance.

Technically, your job here is to help with the household tasks that Stan is too lazy to do and that Ford is too busy researching or gallivanting around in the forest to take on, but more often than not, you’re stuck doing whatever little thing Stan thinks up so that he can, as he puts it: ‘enjoy his retirement, sweetheart’. The work extends to any little chore they might need help with, and when the kids head home for summer and Ford and Stan set sail for a few months again, it falls to you to keep the place standing until they return.

Hence why you’re slaving away in their roomy kitchen this evening, gazing out at Ford like you’re some kind of yearning protagonist in a classic romance novel and turning over several thoughts in your mind that you’re sure would get you fired if you revealed them in detail to anyone else. You exhale softly as you watch him show Dipper how to correctly pull off a bicep curl, his arm flexing beneath his shirt.

Behind you, at the dinner table, Stan pauses where he's rustling through his daily newspaper at a leisurely pace and his chair creaks as he shifts in it. “Keep sighing like that and you’ll fog the windows up before he’s finished.”

You start, having completely forgotten his presence, and narrowly you swerve the kitchen knife to avoid chopping off the tip of your index finger. “Jesus, Stan!” you huff. “I almost cut my hand off! They should put a bell on you.”

Stan laughs under his breath. “Oh, they’ve tried, trust me,” he mutters darkly. “Besides, that’s what you get for not paying attention.”

“I am paying attention,” you lie. “I was just…. Thinking.”

“About what?” Stan asks, in a way that suggests he already knows. He probably does.

Stan is the only other person besides yourself who’s aware of your affection for Ford.

The crush had started small, blossoming slowly over time into something more significant, and Stan had worked it out before you’d even caught it yourself.

For all his faults, the guy is as perceptive as they come and admittedly, he’s a lot of fun in his own right. He’s cantankerous and rough around the edges, and yet he’s got a heart of gold that he hides deep underneath his gaudy chains and string vests. At first, he’d been grumpy and standoffish about your presence, despite being the one to hire you in the first place, but as time has gone by and you’ve proven yourself to be competent at both the work and at giving as good you get, he’s dropped his guard and dragged you into his jokes and games.

Although he’s less than thrilled about your private sentiments towards his brother, he's charming in his own special way and he only ever uses it to rag on you when he’s feeling mean. To the best of your knowledge, he hasn’t said a word to anyone else about it. Stan is an ass, but he’s not cruel.

And while you’re not going to divulge your most intimate thoughts to him, you’ll always rise to a little back and forth with him. He seems to enjoy having a verbal sparring partner.

“How old did you say your brother was again?” You ask with feigned innocence, glancing over your shoulder at him.

“What?” Stan grunts, folding the top of his paper down enough to glower at you over it.

“I said, remind me how old your brother is again,” you repeat, turning your attention back to watching Ford lean down to stretch his hamstrings again. It looks like he’s cooling down for the day now which means he’ll be doing static stretches for the next ten minutes, and every time he does so you’re treated to a wonderful view of his ass.

“Same age as me,” Stan says, and at your silence he tacks on: “We’re twins,” like you’re an idiot.

“So….?”

“He’s sixty-two, genius.”

“Huh,” you mutter quietly. “Interesting….”

It's hard to remember when Ford is so agile and active, and for all your interest in him, you've never actually asked his age. Sixty-two is perfectly doable though, in every conceivable sense of the word…..

Stan rustles his paper again. “If you’re thinkin’ about what I think you’re thinkin’ about, and I know you are, don’t even think about it.”

You snort. He has such a way with words.

"I told you last time, stay away from him. He's...." Stan pauses, as though he intends to say something else but thinks better of it. "He's old enough to be your father."

“I don’t have a father,” you say absentmindedly.

It’s Stan’s turn to snort now. “Y’know, that makes a lot of sense, actually.”

You tear your gaze away from Ford’s routine to flip Stan the bird, sticking your tongue out for good measure before you reach for the glass mixing bowl to your right. Now that your evening matinee is ending, you really ought to get a move on with dinner.

“Anyway, I didn’t hire you to gawp at my brother like he’s a piece of meat on the discount shelf,” Stan grouches. “You’re s’posed to be cooking.���

“I'm not gawping, I just happen to be facing the same way that he's doing all his stuff in,” you say defensively, before adding in a muttered: “Besides, he definitely wouldn’t be on the discount shelf.”

“Uh huh,” Stan says, clearly not believing a word.

Rather than defend your actions, you focus on your work: Tonight's dinner is wild mushroom pie. You've only made it once before but it's nice and filling, and you're supposed to be helping everyone eat better. Bad diets run in the family apparently (although where Ford is concerned, he just as often skips meals altogether some days) and so far, they've all been amenable to trying something new. The kids had been reluctant to test out vegetables at first but after a few valiant efforts to make them as palatable as possible they'd come round.

A lot of the work is already done; a pot of stock is simmering away on the hob, the onions from earlier are ready to be tossed into the slowly-warming frying pan and a red, ceramic pie dish is neatly lined with pastry and ready to go whenever you need it. For now, the next task is to prepare the star ingredient: Wild mushrooms.

You’ll be the first to admit, quite happily, that you're not the most outdoorsy of people and you're going to cheat a little bit on the ‘wild’ requirements. You'd picked up a packet of the things last weekend at the supermarket with the intention of doing one thing or another with them, and it does say on the label that they're wild, so you'll let yourself off on that one. Although, knowing Gravity Falls you're really hoping that ‘wild’ isn't a play on words and they turn out to be some kind of feral man-eating fungi. You're not in the mood to be hunted down by a hungry creature today.

Leaving your pots and pans to simmer, you check in the pantry for the little box only to come up empty handed. There's no sign of it anywhere in there, not even when you rummage around right at the back, and you call out to Stan in confusion: “Have you seen the mushrooms I brought back last week?”

“The ones in the brown container?” Stan asks.

“Yeah….”

“Mabel fed ‘em to Waddles last night,” he says, and when you stick your head around the pantry door to stare at him in disbelief, he shrugs without looking up. “What was I supposed to do, tell her no?”

You know what he means; She’s upstairs right now giving the damn pig a manicure makeover with your old (and apparently animal safe) nail polishes because you hadn’t had it in you to deny her them when she’d been upset about her own limited supplies.

It’s extraordinarily hard to refuse Mabel anything and you can appreciate the difficulty, but still.

“Stan, I told you what I was planning to cook tonight!” You groan, kicking the pantry door shut. “How am I supposed to make a mushroom pie with no mushrooms?”

You can’t exactly nip to the store today either. Every single shop in town is shut. The news this morning had warned of a major storm blowing in and informed everyone that they best stay at home lest they keep an inflatable raft in their back pocket, and no one sells those outdated things anymore. Too many accidental indoor deployments, apparently.

According to Ford, this place is susceptible to irrational weather spells and the increasingly aggressive changes in pressure and temperature that have spawned with global warming have only made them more volatile. Last summer there had been a spate of hailstorms that had puked up football-sized pieces of ice and smashed the windscreen of your car to pieces. You’re still sore about that one….

“What am I supposed to do?” You lament, sparing a miserable glance at the half-done recipe on the stove.

From behind you, a deep voice makes you jump: “Is something wrong?”

You almost leap out of your skin, swivelling on the spot to find the source hovering in the doorway of the kitchen.

Both brothers have the ability to be supernaturally quiet when they want to be. While Stan uses his subtlety less often, Ford skulks around like a well practised alley cat a lot of the time and he frequently scares the shit out of you. He must have finished his routine and crept back inside unannounced.

He gives you an apologetic smile, holding one hand up to ease your fear. “Apologies,” he laughs under his breath. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Ford is still dressed in his workout clothes, his thick, wavy hair roguishly dishevelled and slightly damp at the temples, and he looks just as lovely up close as he had done from the window. Perhaps even lovelier.

You swallow thickly, your brain short circuiting at the sight of him. “Uh, yes?” You say, though it's more of a question than an answer.

Ford looks at you expectantly, evidently waiting for you to expand on your problem, and Stan smirks at your lack of grace.

You shake your head minutely, desperately pulling yourself together and hoping he'll assume your speechless state is just because he's made you jump and not because your heart is climbing up your throat.

“I'm making pie,” you say, jerking your thumb over at the pots. “And someone,” You pause to fix Stan with an annoyed look and he rolls his eyes. “Let Mabel feed them all to Waddles, and…. I don’t have a back up plan.”

You feel a little stupid admitting it aloud.

Ford hums thoughtfully, heavy brows creasing together as he leans against the doorframe.

“That's quite the conundrum….” He says, frowning at the flagstone tiles under your feet.

His dark eyes flicker back and forth quickly, and you can tell he's trying to think up a solution.

After a long pause, he snaps his fingers and speaks up again: “You know, I did stumble across a nice little patch of mushrooms not far from here about a month ago. We could take a walk up there and grab some, if you'd like?”

“In the forest?” You ask, brows raised.

“Where else?” Ford grins, and you feel your stomach fill with butterflies. “They're edible, of course, I've tested them myself.”

“Are you telling me you ate random mushrooms you found on the ground, Doctor Pines?” You ask, mildly appalled. “They could have killed you.”

Ford waves a hand dismissively. “Unlikely. My travels have given me something of an iron stomach. It takes more than a Death Cap to put me down these days.”

At the mention of ‘travels’, you perk up a bit.

Ford's history is more than a little murky to you. In the time you’ve been working for the family, you’ve only heard second-hand snippets or passing mentions of his alleged escapades. The kids have let slip to you several times about his adventures and, despite initially assuming they'd been making things up for fun, the stories had eventually begun to seem a little too consistent to simply be make-believe.

One evening, when the kids had been safely tucked up in bed and Ford had been locked away in his study, you’d brought the subject up to Stan over a nightcap on the porch.

Stan had sighed, lit a cigar, and sworn you to secrecy before giving you a rough outline of his brother’s complex background: his outstandingly impressive academic history, their less-than-ideal family rift and some kind of accident that had sent Ford careening into, quite literally, another dimension. Stan hadn’t gone into excessive detail, and you hadn’t pushed despite desperately wanting to, but by his own admission he had felt that if you were to be working around them then you’d be better off at least having some idea of their strange history.

And strange it is.

You yourself have only lived in Gravity Falls for the better part of eighteen months and becoming accustomed to the weirdness of this place has been unusually easy. Residents take the bizarre in such casual stride that you’re more likely to stick out should you make a fuss about it all and after a while, seeing the odd oddity around had quickly become the norm.

At Stan’s vague reveal of his brother’s disappearance and, as everyone else calls them, his travels, the notion had been surprisingly easy to fathom in the context of such an already weird place. Utterly incredible, yet somehow very in line with this town.

Ford has never brought it up to you himself beyond a rare, fleeting mention, but you’re aware that he’s apparently spent significant time in places that other people might only dream of.

You’re sure he knows of your vague awareness but you know better than to poke around in other people’s sore wounds without permission.

Stan had warned that neither he nor his brother were predisposed to telling everyone and anyone about his time away and you can’t really blame them. From what you know (and can imagine), it can’t have been all fun and games.

“I think he’s got, like, PTSD or somethin’,” Stan had said that night, sounding genuinely heartbroken about it. “So don’t go sniffing around him, alright? He’s…. It’s difficult. Everyone’s been through a lot. Maybe we’ll tell you about it properly one day.”

You understand, of course. Whatever has gone on in their lives is clearly significant and you’re still an outsider. A year is no time at all in the grand scheme of things and they’re a tightly-knit, protective family. They’ve no reason to fill you in on their traumatic family history just because you help around the house and you’ve no right to know it, but you’re willing to earn their trust and if the stories come with it, then so be it.

Although slow to start, things have been going well so far and you’re closer than ever with them, so every titbit Ford drops has you on tenterhooks immediately.

“Besides,” Ford says, still on the subject of his thrilling mushroom discoveries, “their lack of toxicity isn’t even the most exciting part!” He adjusts his glasses and you can tell he's gearing up into scientist-mode.

Behind you, Stan sighs, long-suffering.

“I thought they tasted significantly more intense than a regular mushroom, so once I’d confirmed that they were safe for general human consumption, I asked Dipper to try them. He reported them to be, in his words, 'beefy'. Now, Umami is the most commonly associated flavour with regard to mushrooms because of naturally occurring glutamate, but monosodium glutamate, which would deepen the flavour even more and fall in line with mine and Dipper's taste tests, isn't, and I doubt the gnomes are out there spraying crops with MSG. They haven't the tools for that, I've checked. Anyway, I asked Mabel to try them and she said they tasted, quote, ‘like chocolate stirred by puppies and angels’,”

Here, Ford pauses to laugh fondly before he goes on:

“Which is most certainly not a common flavour of mushroom. So my hypothesis is that they change taste based on whoever touches them and I've been meaning to test them again, seeing as we ate the first batch before I could record the findings properly. We'd be killing two birds with one stone, really.”

You have to fight back a smile. The way he lights up when he talks about his stupid fucking mushrooms is beyond cute and you always enjoy watching him get passionate about his projects, especially when he veers off course on silly tangents that he deems relevant.

But Ford has never asked you to accompany him before which makes this event all the more alluring. It's a privilege to be invited along and as much as you want to jump at the chance, you do have one worry:

“What about the storm?”

At the table, Stan pushes his chair back with a screech and stands up. “Exactly. TV said it's gonna be a bad one and I'm not paying for another newspaper ad if you kill our housekeeper just because you wanna show off again.”

Ford sputters. “I'm not showing off, Stanley! This is about science!”

It should be worrying that his main concern is his pride over your potential death-by-negligence, but the way the top of his ears turn red at his brother's accusation overrules your concern. He's disgustingly adorable when he gets embarrassed.

Dipper chooses that exact moment to trot past his great uncle's side and into the kitchen, giving you a bright, exhausted smile. He’s shed his workout gear for a t-shirt and a fresh pair of sweats, and his hair is slightly damp. “Dinner smells good,” he yawns. “I'm starving. I got ten whole reps in today, right, Grunkle Ford?” He looks especially proud about it.

Ford shucks off his ire to give his nephew a warm smile. “That you did, my boy. Up two compared to last week, by my calculations. You're going to be giving me a run for my money before the summer is over.”

Dipper rubs the back of his neck, bashful, but the way he's beaming betrays his excitement. “I wouldn't go that far….”

“Nice work, dude,” you grin, offering a hand out for a high five.

He takes the bait and slaps your palm with his before fetching himself a soda. “So, how long ‘til dinner?”

You wince inwardly. He'll be hungry enough to eat a horse by now and you can't let him subsist on snacks after all the exercise he's done today. It won't help him build the muscle you know he so desperately wants if all he eats are chips, dips and sodas.

“You better stock up on snacks tonight, kid,” Stan chuckles as he reaches for his own bag of chips that he already has open the table top. “Somebody forgot to get ingredients.”

You shoot Stan a venomous look and at Dipper's disappointed little ‘wait, what?’, you turn back to Ford. Storm be damned, the idea of letting down a child makes you feel worse than getting stuck in a downpour ever could, and you know you'll regret it but what other choice do you have? You've done stupider things for less.

“You're sure the patch isn't far from here?” You ask Ford, giving in with a sigh. “And we'll beat the storm?”

Ford beams at your change of heart, and that, combined with the knowledge of a well-fed charge, instantly makes your agreement worth it. His moods vary like the wind sometimes and you’re always eager to see him happy because you know that it means he’ll spend more time talking to you.

“We'll be in and out in under an hour, you have my word,” he assures you. “I know that place like the back of my hand.”

You sigh again. “Fine. I'll go with you to get the mushrooms.”

Dipper slips back out of the kitchen. Usually, you're sure he'd inquire about your task and ask to come along, but it seems he really is thoroughly exhausted from his gym session and he takes an early leave. Poor kid.

Ford nods, pleased. “Give me a moment to shower and change. I'll put together some supplies and then we can leave.”

“Sure,” you smile. “And thank you, Doctor Pines. I appreciate the help.”

Ford grins, giving you a nod, and then he’s following his nephew out of the kitchen, sweeping down the hallway to sort out his things.

You make use of the spare time to tidy up a little and lower the gas on the stock as low as it will go, then take the pan off the heat. If Ford means what he says about getting in and out quickly, you might have a chance at saving the rest of the prep and it would be a shame to have to start everything over again.

You clean up your workstation and make sure everything is safely put aside before taking a seat at the table to wait.

It's then that you realise Stan is watching you closely. He’s smirking, and it always makes you a little nervous when he wears that mischievous look.

“What?” You ask him hesitantly.

“You can just call him Ford, y’know,” Stan says, slumping back in his chair and looking amused. “Pretty sure he wouldn’t mind….”

You roll your eyes, shrugging one shoulder. “Not this again. I told you before, he's never asked me to call him anything else. I did the same for you when I first started, didn't I?”

“Yeah, and I told you to stop because you made me sound like my old man,” Stan gripes through a mouthful of potato chips.

“Exactly, and that's your prerogative,” you say, a little defensively.

You're telling the truth; Ford hasn’t ever asked you to call him something less formal, even if you might like to try the taste of something more intimate on your tongue. “Ford has earned his title, I’m not going to take it away from him.”

Stan snorts. “Oh, I bet he loves that.”

“What?”

“You, stroking his ego and running around after him like a lost puppy,” Stan says, amused.

“First of all, I run around for everyone in this house like a lost puppy, it's literally my job,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Secondly, I’m not stroking his ego. The guy’s smart and he’s got an armful for doctorates. I’m just…. Acknowledging that.”

“Uh huh,” Stan says, sceptical.

“What now?” You huff.

“Nothing.”

“Stan,” you say sternly. “Don’t play coy, it doesn’t suit you.”

“Oh come on,” he says, trying and failing to keep the smirk off of his face. “Could you be any more obvious? You're worse than Dipper was when he came back after all that time, hanging off his every word and getting all googly-eyed over him like the sun shines out of his ass.”

“I don’t-“

“‘Yes Doctor Pines, no Doctor Pines’,” Stan simpers, putting on a poor imitation of your voice. “Take me out to the woods and experiment on me, Doctor Pines!’”

You can feel your face heat up. “You're such an asshole sometimes, you know that? And he isn’t experimenting on me, he asked me to help hi-”

“Show me your magic mushroo -“

Someone clears their throat in the kitchen doorway and both you and Stan whip your heads around to follow the source of the noise. Much to your horror, Ford is waiting for you, clad in jeans and a trademark red turtleneck along with a pair of filthy hiking boots. There's a sizable backpack slung over one of his broad shoulders and he doesn’t look very amused at his brother's antics.

“Are you done?” He asks, levelling Stan with a searing look.

Stan opens his mouth, still grinning, and Ford cuts him off instantly. “Actually forget that, I know you’re not,” he says. “You never are.”

Then he turns his attention to you.

You’re trying very hard not to melt into a humiliated puddle on the floor and under his gaze you feel yourself slip just a little further down into your seat.

His gaze softens somewhat, almost sympathetic, and he gestures vaguely towards the front door down the hall. “If you're not too busy being harassed, I'm ready to set off,” he says.

You really rather wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole right now, but alas, you do need those stupid mushrooms…..

“Sure,” you say faintly, scrambling up from your seat.

Ford heads off towards the foyer and you try to compose yourself with a deep breath before you follow him, glancing back to stick your tongue out at Stan again.

Stanley laughs at your awkwardness and as you hurriedly trot towards the hall, he pretends to fan himself dramatically.

“Three bags full, Doctor Pines,” Stan grins, and then you're shutting the kitchen door on him before you put your job on the line with the insult you're lining up in your head.

Stan thinks he's endlessly funny when it comes to winding you up over Ford and if you show how much he gets under your skin with it, he'll only get worse. You think he might be doing it in the hopes of putting you off his brother, but he’ll need to try a lot harder than that.

Instead of encouraging him, you follow in Ford's footsteps down the short, oak panelled hallway until you reach the front door.

Ford has already donned his reliable tan trench coat, patiently waiting for you to pull your own jacket and boots on. So much of the town is woven between the forest that you practically live in hiking shoes these days and it doesn't take you long to be readily dressed and warm.

Once you’re sorted, Ford swings the heavy oak front door open. A well-timed gust of cool wind blusters in as he does so, ruffling your clothes and hair, and instantly you realise the weather is much more intimidating when face to face with it.

It's incredibly dull out here. In the short time that Ford and Dipper have ended their routine and you've packed your things up, the sky has gotten impossibly darker. The winds must have herded more clouds overhead than you’d realised and the light has faded so much that you'd be forgiven for assuming it to be almost night time. When you check your watch, however, it still reads barely 6PM.

Ford must catch the concern on your face because he picks up on your worry straight away. “It's just overcast,” he reassures you. “I’ve seen plenty of storms like this in the time I’ve lived here. We'll have enough time to make it there and back before it gets too dark, and I brought torches as a precaution.”

That makes you feel a little better, at least. You know he’s an experienced outdoorsman and he’d probably be able to find his way around here blindfolded and hogtied. If you have to go out in risky weather with anyone, Ford is your best bet.

With the stride of a uniquely confident man, Ford steps out into the evening with a sharp breath inward and a contented sigh, taking in the awaiting scent of petrichor. He holds the door open for you with one hand and gestures for you to follow with the other, offering you a rakish grin.

“Shall we?”

And when he smiles at you like that, what choice do you have?

A/N: Yay! You made it to the end!

So firstly, I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to post another work! These take a bit of time for me to write because I tend to write the entire work in one go from start to finish before I begin posting and I've also been unwell/busy, so it took a backseat for a bit but here we are!

Secondly, as I posted at the start, this is going to be a small series and will start as a decently sized multi-chapter fic. There will be smut and I already have most of it written. Your patience will be rewarded!

Please consider supporting me on ao3 also :)

[stilljuststardust]

Hey my sister wants to shift, she’s 13, what is the most basic “here’s what you need to know and never listen to shifttok” song you’ve got for her?

∘₊✧Explanation✧₊∘

Thanks for the ask! I'm sorry this took me so long I've been having some health issues.

Disclaimer, please read:

There are SO many different perspectives on how it works. Mine is not the only one and though all perspectives are valid, I'm going to assume that you chose to ask me because you are familiar with my blog and how I personally view shifting.

I'm going to try to leave LOA out of it but that is how I personally view shifting.

What is shifting?

Shifting is when you become aware of the life you're living in another reality. The reality you shift into is just as real as the one you are currently in. It will feel real because it is.

How to shift

Strictly speaking, you don't have to do anything to shift. How people shift is so personal and customized and nothing is necessary to do it but I'll try my best to give "instructions" anyway.

You decide you're in your DR, you decide that it is true and it has worked, ignore anything outside of yourself that tells you otherwise, and know that it is true because you freaking said it was.

You decide you've shifted and ignore anything but that decision. That is IT. Don't worry about this reality, it doesn't matter. Don't worry about any aspects of this reality you can still hear see or feel, they won't stop you from shifting don't let them distract you.

ALL you have to do is become aware of your DR. I know that it can be hard to conceptualize that for a beginner so most people use methods.

Methods

To start off: It is not necessary to have a method. Many people just intend to shift and then they do. That's it. You don't have to do anything, however I recognize that for someone who isn't familiar with shifting "just intend to" is probably an unhelpful answer.

Most methods can be divided into two categories, awake and asleep methods.

Awake methods revolve around becoming aware that you are already in your DR.

Asleep methods revolve around becoming aware that you will wake up in your DR.

Common features in both kinds of methods:

Meditation

Visualization

Affirmations

Affirmations are pretty straightforward, you repeat a sentence that aligns with your goal over and over. "I have shifted. I am in my DR."

What I personally do

I robotically affirm all day "I am going to shift tonight" robotic affirmations are just repeated affirmations without feeling. So all day I just say it to myself again and again.

I then take some time to sit down and imagine my desired reality, my favorite street, pretty things I would see throughout the day, stuff that grounds me in the feeling of it.

Then I just lay down and tell myself I'm there no matter what. No matter what I feel hear or see I am there.

Doesn't matter I'm there.

Frequently asked questions

I am choosing to put these first because I feel like they really clarify what shifting is and how it works.

Will I have memories of my destination reality once I have shifted?

Yes, you have always existed in that reality and you have a life's worth of memories there. When you become aware of a reality and of the version of yourself that exists within it you also become aware of your memories there.

How does scripting work/ what is it?

It is a description of the reality you'd like to shift into, usually written. Think of it as an the address of the reality you'd like to shift to. You specify the details of the life you would like to become aware of. Having one is not necessary.

Can I script [insert anything here] ?

Yes. You can script anything, and I mean anything. If you can imagine it, it is possible. The realities we shift to do not have to follow the rules of this one and what is impossible here doesn't have to be impossible there. You want to script the sky is purple? Then it is. You want to have wings? Congratulations you can. I cannot stress this enough, ANYTHING you want can be scripted.

Relevant posts

Your desired reality already exists

An old post of my own shifting routines nothing listed is necessary, the list exists to give ideas not instructions

How to visualize

A good post on shiftok misinformation by my awesome mutual

[water-to-drink]

Be a Gladiolus in a Field of Belladonnas pt13

Catching Up with Old Friends

(Summary): After Diluc found you and your team, you all discuss what to do next

Part 1 Last Part Next Part

✧ Masterlist ✧

(Characters): traveler!Lumine, abyss prince!Aether, Childe, Paimon, Diluc, Kaeya, ???, & ???

(Tags/Warnings): gn!reader, talks of violence, foul language, suggestive language, (if I missed anything lmk)

(Word Count): 2.1k

“Italics” = Non human speaking

That night was supposed to be just like any another. The cool Mondstadt wind blowing his curly red hair. The slight crunch of grass underneath his boots were the only sounds that accompanied him

This night is just like the others, no hilichurls or slimes to be found. Even their little camps are abandoned with signs that they were newly abandoned. It was odd but Diluc kept on, still on his guard

Looking up at the sky he sees a shooting star, similar to the ones that would announce a new vessel being chosen. Could this be a sign of your return after such a long time of not being able to sense your divine presence. Sure there were times where you wouldn’t use your vessels but this time it was different. Instead of feeling the faint light you make them feel it was just a bitter cold that radiated throughout all of your vessels’ bodies, even the traveler hasn’t felt you in what had been months. As hope began a swirl in Diluc’s chest the night sky instantly is alight like it was dawn

Soon it turned to night again, leaving the young master in a state of bewilderment. Cautiously heading towards the spot where the abnormally bright shooting star landed, a sound could be heard. The familiar sounds of hilichurls and someone running from them. His walk turned into a sprint and after what felt like an eternity, Diluc was greeted with the sight of someone running towards him. You

After making quick work of the hilichurls, the young master turns his attention towards you, without realizing his mask was knocked off in the struggle until you pointed it out

Seeing there’s no use in keeping his identity secret he relented. “My name is Diluc, what’s yours?”

“I… think it’s, Mentir.”

“Master Diluc! Good morning!” You greeted

“Good morning, your Grace.”

You pouted. “What happened to you saying my name?”

“I’m sorry, but it feels odd to refer to you with such formality. How is are you holding up?” Diluc asked

“I’m doing good, especially when Kaeya and Childe made breakfast for all of us.” You said. “Kaeya was telling us what’s going on. The leaders congregating to capture me and search parties looking for me. I’m just glad that we didn’t run into any of them last night.”

“You seem really cheerful for someone being hunted by all of Teyvat.” Kaeya teased

“Well you have to look on the positives because if you don’t you’ll just end up curled up in a ball crying uncontrollably and in a catatonic state.” You nervously laughed out. “But, there is something that keeps me sane.” You breathed out. “The thought of me chopping that bitch’s head off.”

You looked at everyone to see horrified faces except for Childe who looks excited and proud

“Uhh, anyways.” Diluc said as he went into a room to fetch something. “It’s not much, but I tried my best.” Diluc presented your jacket, once in your hands you examined the stitch work. It was crude at best, but you can tell it was made in earnest

“Thanks, I appreciate your work, Diluc.”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Diluc said as his face turned a bright red

“And do you have a pen and paper that I can borrow.”

Diluc quickly went to retrieve a pen and paper and gave them to you. Taking the pen to the paper everyone around you and watched in anticipation, waiting to see what the divine creator will write down. You got nervous until you remembered an important detail

“I just realized I can’t write the Teyvat script. Can one of you do this for me?” You turned and offered the pen To anyone

“I can do it for you, your Grace!” Childe said as he took the pen from you and start to get ready to write. “Go ahead, your Grace.”

“Okay, Dear Pierro I know that you all are worried about me but I’m writing this letter to inform you that I’m well and need to travel around Teyvat to get my old powers.” You explained the situation in the letter, mainly the trees and the allies that know about your true identity. Finally done writing the letter, Childe presents the paper for you to read. Looking through it, you look up at the expecting ginger. “Not gonna lie, this shit looks like chicken scratch. I can’t use this, but thank you though.”

“I’ll get another piece of paper.” Diluc said as he went to fetch the items

“I’ll write for you, your Grace.” Aether said

Diluc handed Aether the paper and he took the pen from Childe, the blond began to rewrite the letter. While waiting for the letter to be written you turned towards the redhead

“Hey, Diluc, can I annoy you one last time?”

“You can never annoy me, your Grace.”

“Can you fetch your bird friend?”

“Of course.” Diluc said as he walked towards the window. “I would suggest you stay away from the window, your Grace.” Diluc opened the curtains, letting light shine into the room. Once the owl came near the young master, its attention quickly shifted towards you and ignored Diluc. Flying around you until it landed on your shoulder, thank whoever is watching that your coat is thick enough to protect you from the owl’s talons

“Your Grace! I’m so glad that you’re safe.” The owl said as it rubbed its face against yours

“Haha, stop it that tickles, little guy.” You chuckled as the owl kept showing you affection. “I’m serious, I need you to deliver a letter for me. I want this letter to go to Snezhnaya, especially the Zapolyarny Palace, hand it to other birds and tell them about the letter.” You told the owl as you took the letter from Aether and giving it to the bird. “Wait, before you go, I need to know something.”

“What’s happening?” Kaeya asked the traveler

“Oh, their Grace can talk to birds. Apparently only they can do that.” Paimon explained

Kaeya and Diluc looked on still confused but accepted the fact nonetheless

“Understood, I won’t let you down, your Grace.” The owl told you before taking off and flying out the window

“That’s one less thing to worry about, what’s next.” You said the window was closed once again along with the curtains being drawn

“Is something on your mind, your Grace?” Lumine asked

“What Diluc’s owl told me, he said that the archons haven’t been seen on Teyvat for days.”

“Well Yae Miko did tell us that Ei is in her head but that doesn’t explain the other archons.” Paimon pondered as she rubbed her chin. “Ugh, all this thinking is making Paimon’s head hurt.”

“Whatever the case is, we need to talk about our next course of action.” You retorted

“Their Grace is right, we’re wasting time standing here doing nothing.” Childe said as he crossed his arms and nodded in agreement

“Liyue is out of the question, with the millelith, and the Adepti.” You reasoned, leaving out all of the imposter fics you read that depicts Liyue as a hell of earth for the reader labeled as an imposter

“Fontaine is our best option, since the tree is far away from the city where most people live.” Lumine explained

“There’s going to be a shipment coming for the wine, the same wine Kaeya was stealing,” Diluc said as he glared at his brother. “perhaps you all could hide in the crates.”

“That might be too risky.” Aether pondered

“Maybe we can leave the boat before it reaches the port, like making an ice bridge. Me and Lumine have ice powers.” You suggested

“Yeah, like the ones you make when using Kaeya as a vessel.” Paimon smiled

“That is an idea but their Grace’s elemental energy is unstable.” Aether reminded

“We won’t know until we try, and besides we have two cryo users.” You said gesturing towards Lumine and Kaeya. “Oh since we’re here for a few weeks, it wouldn’t hurt to train on my sword skills.”

“Ohh, I’ll help you train your Grace!” Childe announces excitedly

“Thanks, but let’s have Kaeya train me. He isn’t going to be with us for long so it only makes sense. And I want to get as much sword skills as possible.” You said, not mentioning how scared you are to go up against someone as bloodthirsty as Childe, though you know he’ll never hurt you but it feels like a kid going up against a professional soccer player while in a wheelchair

Once the furniture was moved out of the way, the twins, Paimon, and Diluc watch from the sidelines as you and Kaeya face each other with your swords drawn. The sword feels heavy in your hands

Childe is right behind you giving you pointers. “Keep your feet apart from each other.” He instructs as he nudges your feet away from another. “Next straighten your back.” You instinctively do. “Good, you got this.” Childe pat you on the back

Kaeya began to circle around you and instantly you knew he was looking for an opportunity to strike. Lunging towards you, you dodge the attack. Your movements never felt so natural like they do now, limbs moving with such fluidity that it rivals the waves of the ocean. You gripped the sword and in a blink of an eye you’re instantly in a plateau filled with blue rocks, even the ground is a muted blue. In front of you is a feminine figure

“You amaze me, kid. Didn’t think you had it in you.” They said

“Wh-who are you?” You asked, hating how much your voice shakes in that moment

“But that doesn’t mean I’ll let you off that easy!” The figure charged at you and instinctively you raise you sword and feel it slice something

You blink and now you’re back at Dawn Winery and you’re cutting into Kaeya’s side

You drop your sword and Kaeya lands on his backside

“I’ll get the med kit!” Diluc said as rushed to get it

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! I didn’t see it was you, I blinked and I was somewhere that wasn’t Teyvat! I don’t know what came over me. I’m so sorry.” You rambled out as you kneeled in front of Kaeya and examined the wound

“It looks worse than it actually is, you got me good, your Grace.”

“I’m so sorry I hurt you, Kaeya.” You put your hands above his bloodied hand. “I did it again, I don’t want to hurt anyone else anymore.” Suddenly a golden light comes from your hands and a warn sensation swirls within his chest. Gone is the youthful light your eyes held and now it’s replaced by a mournful and more mature nature. It’s almost as if the human side of you that was in front of him moments ago is gone and now replaced by the divine creator side of you

The light stops and when you take your hands off of the wound, it’s now gone. Its only remnant is a slight glimmer on the captain’s skin

“Oh my god. Did I do that?” You asked in astonishment, the familiar youthful glint back in your eyes

Resting his chin on his palm he throws you his signature smirk

“If you wanted to touch me that bad, you could have just asked. I’m more than happy to do some skinship with a hottie like you.”

“You had to ruin it.” You said disgusted.

“I take it that their Grace healed Kaeya.” Diluc inquired with a medical kit in his hands

You stood up and helped the knight up as well. “I can’t think about sleeping with anyone when I got all of Teyvat is trying to kill me.” You muttered

“Wait! So when this blows over, then I’ll have a chance?!” Childe asked excitedly

“Maybe, I think about it. But I make no promises.”

Lone footsteps echo throughout the Plane of Euthymia. The steps get louder to a lone purple haired woman meditating

The figure stops in behind her and speaks. “Baal.”

“What do you want?” She asked coldly

“I need your help.”

“Why do you need me, you know I can’t show my face to their Grace after I raised my sword to them.”

“If they knew of our situation then they wouldn’t hold it against you, now really think about this.”

Ei took her time to reconsider until her feet hit the ground and turned towards the figure. “Alright, I go with you.”

Taglist:

@chuuya-brainrot @creation-magician @tartarsaucechi1de @vvyeislazzy @aludicpoet @undecidingfate @annoying-mary @randomnatics @bore2808 @esthelily @yurivision @angelamelamela @chocolatekuns @ghost-mint @mmmhyperfixation @legendaryexperthideout @lapinaenmicoche @sinsdumbdrabble @rebeccawinters @imyme20 @nymphsdomain @sun7lowxr @blackcoffex @itz-luna @flowerypesky @land-of-eternity @deathcvltcivilofficial @d4y-dr3am3r @yuriclouds @artwitch @mercy-not-merci @xyaxyn @starxvs @dreamoffireflies06

[local-lamppost]

Initial thoughts cause it's 4am

Spoilers

First off, wow... it's really good. I've been saying that if season 2 is as good as season 1 Arcane would be my new favorite show and we are on track. Anyway, just gonna list stuff until I can process/rewatch a billion times

Mel lived! I was so certain that they would just kill her off, make that Ambessa's motive (give Jayce a reason to keep fighting the Undercity) but it's much more interesting keeping her involved in the narrative. Love her trying to bother understand and undermine her mother. Those Black Rose guys best not have hurt a hair on her perfect head.

Speaking of. What in the Utena are these Black Rose magic people? I love the look of their magic. I wonder how they can corrupt people. Is it a spell? Do they slip them something?

Love how the divide of Jayce and Viktor was done. Jayce betrayed Viktor's wishes of destroying the Hexcore. Last season, Viktor wanted to forget about using the core to save himself after Sky and begged Jayce to destroy it when the core wouldn't allow Viktor himself to do it. In Jayce's mind though, the core is the solution to Viktor's problems. He didn't know it killed Sky or that it can influence Viktor, but all Viktor can comprehend is that Jayce didn't trust him. Didn't keep his promise. And this is fresh off of Jayce's season 1 antics against the Undercity, so Viktor's faith in his partner was already shaken. Viktor's also comfortable in his mortality/death, even though he wants to prolong it like every other human, but Jayce can't fathom loosing Viktor-the man who saved his life and made his dreams reality.

(Side note: Am I a JayVik shipper? I never considered myself one, but after writing this...)

JINX HAS A KID! I love this choice. Give Jinx a kid so she is able to learn what Silco and Vi had to go through with her, that no matter how big or dangerous a scheme to take this child into account. The confrontation in ep 3 really showed what Jinx will have to consider now that this kid's decided to adopt her as an older sister or something. Especially nice detail of how Vi-who has always had to consider the kids in her life-immediately stops fighting and starts looking for ways to keep the kid safe.

I was wondering how Jinx would loose a finger and Caitlyn shooting it off to save Vi is just- The fact that the only way these two can show they care about Vi when it comes to each other is by hurting the other.

Sevika's new arm is fantastic. It's a peace offering from Jinx, but also a way for Jinx to feel better (it was something she could fix). The mechanics of it are really fun. It reminds me of Kite's weapon from HxH with how it didn't always work/give her what she wanted in the fight. I especially love the victory rockets and built in theme song.

Ambessa is so interesting. Between her character song to the introduction of just what she is fighting against, I am very intrigued. She reminds me of Cersei Lannister, except she loves her kids as more than just extensions of herself (as of what we've seen, but I think that'll stick). Her using Salo to establish herself-which also keeps Mel safe by distancing her-but also dropping him in order to prop up Cait at her first opportunity is such a clever move. She truly is the fox and the wolf, but she is above all a mama bear.

Not much to say about Heimerdinger or Ekko yet, but I am definitely curious to see what they do about the wild runes with Jayce. The three of them have a fun dynamic, what with Heimerdinger still being peeved about magic/being ousted, Ekko hating topside and having a new reason to do so with them poisoning his tree, and Jayce being recently seperated and divorced from both his partners.

Vi is an enforcer. I didn't know how they were gonna handle this, but they did it so well. Of course she wants to fix things for the people her sister hurt. She feels responsible. She can say she doesn't blame herself, but how true is that? Why else would she be wearing a badge if not for her guilt? She is desperate to do something right and being an enforcer seemed to be a way to make Cait happy, get her gauntlets (what she believes is necessary to make any kind of change), and be first in line in the hunt for Jinx. She says that her sister is dead, that Jinx is a desecration to Powder's memory, that they are not sisters but isn't it supposed to be 'nothing is going to change that'? How much of all this is just something Vi is telling herself to keep going? Cait is her motive right now, but after ep 3 I definitely see why she starts spiraling.

(2 Side note: Her new best friend/drinking buddy is such a real one. They have a bender in the gutter together and now he's following her into and out of the enforcers. I wonder if he knew Vander? In any case, he is a delight.)

Cait and Vi kissed... CAIT AND VI KISSED! Then NOTHING HAPPENED AFTER! NOTHING! No immediate break up, nope.

So Cait. I love Cait and I am hyped for her arc this season. I am ready to fight tooth and nail for her. I am a Caitlyn defender. So what she's being manipulated into leading a military state due to her grief/unresolved anger/guilt/Ambessa being better at this than her, she looks amazing in her cape. It balances.

Seriously though, the writing for Cait especially is so solid. She is desperate to hold herself and her family together, to protect her city. She still wants to protect the innocent, to heal the Undercity, but her anger at a select few of those she wants to help is clouding the greater image for her. Vi seems to be acting as her better half, the side that cares for the innocent-the protector. Ambessa is the agressor, encouraging Cait to take drastic military action against the Undercity as a whole. Vi's disillusionment with Cait is due to the fact that Cait desire to heal, not harm, is what caused her to fall for Cait to begin with. To see more than some privileged topside enforcer, but a woman who genuinely cared and was willing to abandon her peaceful naivety to learn for the greater good of strangers.

I'll also point out that they separate when Cait starts blaming Vi for them loosing Jinx. Before, everyone but Cait put responsibility on Vi, she was supposed to be the one to help lighten the load and absolve some of the guilt. Now Cait is becoming another one of those who slam the blame on Vi. She changed. Why does everyone around VI change?

Can't wait for the next batch of episodes.

[legiblyloathed]

Ain’t He Darling? (Chapter 2)

Yandere! Wally Darling x Reader

A/N: This has gone from a oneshot to a twoshot to what’s now shaping up to be at least a five chapter story and for that I apologize. The “date” with Wally was only meant to be half a chapter and now it’s a full one. I will, in fact, learn nothing from this and will continue to accidentally increase my workload in the future. Many thanks for the kind comments on chapter 1, and I hope you enjoy chapter 2!

People who requested to be tagged; @whynot5243 @tikosan @itsyellow @twerkingnutella18 @azoart Y’all keep me going, I wish you the best.

Prev ——— Next

You know, maybe it was hasty to imagine Wally killing me as the worst case scenario. I think I’d take getting murdered in the woods over the uncomfortable silence I’ve been stewing in all afternoon.

Or at least, the silence is making me uncomfortable. Ever since I dragged myself out of the house to paint with him like I promised, I’ve spent damn near every minute avoiding eye contact like it’d kill me. Not that it seems to be working, as every time I glance up from my painting, I can see him out of the corner of my eye, and without fail he’s always focused on me. How he’s managed to finish his own drawing in between these moments is beyond me, but the way the easels are laid out, I can’t see his canvas anyway. There’s every chance it’s blank, and he just coerced me out here to stare at me without interruption.

But now, the sky is shifting to a myriad of colors, and I send up a silent thank you to the heavens for the excuse to leave. “Well, this has been fun,” I start, wiping the excess paint on my hands onto the apron he loaned me. “But I don’t wanna have to walk home in the dark, so I’d best be off.”

“It has been fun, hasn’t it?” After who knows how long of complete silence, his voice makes me jump slightly. Wally takes a few slow, measured steps in my direction, stopping just a little too close to my personal bubble. His eyes glued to my messy painting of the woods, and his eternal smile seems to widen. “You’re good at this.”

I manage to let out a laugh. “Not really, but I appreciate it.” I glance over my own art at the back of his easel, morbid curiosity eating away at me. As much as I want to see what the resident weirdo drew when he wasn’t trying to burn a hole in my forehead, something tells me it’s better not to know.

Wally’s head turns slightly, following my gaze to his own artwork. “Oh, do you want to see mine?” he asks, not waiting for my answer as he walks over and grabs it off the easel. He stares down at it for a moment, as if ensuring its quality, then turns it around and holding it up for me to see. “I worked hard on it. What do you think?”

Upon examination, I think I should have chosen a different neighborhood to move into, one with less terrifying residents. Staring back at me is a portrait of none other than myself. I’m sitting on a bench, which, after a moment, I recognize as the one under the apple tree where Wally had been the day prior. I look relaxed, leaning back and resting my weight on my hands behind me, my attention drawn to something off to the right. As I scan it over, I note that I wasn’t drawn with the clothes I wore today, but the ones I had on yesterday, down to finest of details. It’s beautiful, and I hate it.

I’m left frozen in place, gawking at the perfect recreation of my likeness in silence. The man doesn’t seem to mind, content to let me take in the details of his piece as he in turn observes my reaction. When I manage to pull my attention back to his face, I stammer out, “That’s…” A hell of a red flag? My worst nightmare on a canvas? A fear I’d have deemed laughable before this moment? “…incredibly realistic.”

Wally turns the painting back to himself, looking down at it with an air of fondness. “I suppose it is. I can’t take all the credit, though.” His eyes look up at me, his head unmoving. “I had a very inspiring model.”

At this, I can feel the two sides of my brain start to feud. The optimistic side makes a good effort to insist that this explains the staring, that he just wanted to get the details right and I was wrong to treat it like a problem. The more realistic side then slaps the optimistic side upside the head and points out that no amount of staring could explain the sheer level of detail in clothes that I’m not even wearing today.

My thoughts continue to conflict with each other, the turmoil so strong that I don’t even register Wally getting closer until he’s barely a foot away from me. I jolt back, nearly falling over. He seems unbothered. “Say, neighbor, would you mind helping me carry all this back to Home? The paintings are delicate, I don’t want them getting crushed.”

Part of me really wants that painting getting crushed, but I don’t dare admit that out loud. Instead, I nod. “Alright, but we gotta hurry. It’ll be dark soon.” Already the sun is casting long shadows, obscured by the trees to the west. Wally and I pack up the paints and fold up the easels, and I balance them all in my arms while he holds the canvases to his chest. Together, the two of us set off towards the house in the center of the neighborhood.

No words are exchanged as we journey through the town. He seems content with the silence, and I’m content to not have to talk to him. It seems the rest of our neighbors have called it a day, Wally and I being the only two people out and about. The weight of the supplies makes my arms ache, but if the alternative is carrying a piece of art that feels just a little too haunted for my taste, I think I can tolerate the discomfort. I don’t know how the hell he managed to drag all of this junk out in the first place.

The sun has sunk down past the horizon by the time we make it to Home, painting the sky a myriad of purples and deep blues. It takes all I have left in me not to collapse upon the porch, made all the worse by Wally’s continued nonchalance as he opens the door and beckons me inside. I brush past him into the living room, dumping my armload of supplies onto the coffee table. With a weary huff, I throw myself down onto his couch to catch my breath, my eyes drooping shut.

“You feeling alright, there, neighbor?” The sofa sinks ever so slightly as he settles down beside me. When I don’t reply, too busy staring at my eyelids and regulating my heartbeat, he speaks with what almost feels like genuine concern, “If you were getting tired, you should have spoken up. I’d have been happy to take a break.”

I shake my head. “Fine, I’m fine. Just need a minute before I head home.”

There it is again, that damn laugh. “What do you mean? This is Home.” The sound of a door squeaking registers in my periphery, and I let my eyes open, squinting against the bright colors of his house. I take a glance out of the corner of my eye, and sure enough, his own are glued on my face with a smile that registers as a little too suspicious for my tastes.

An increasingly familiar sense of unease overtaking me, I push myself up and lean away from him, hoping he didn’t notice, yet knowing he did. “I mean yeah, it’s your home, Wally,” I say, “but I have my own home to get back to.”

He lets out a soft hum, and I swear his smile wavers for just a moment. “I suppose you do,” he murmurs, sounding like he was talking to himself more than me. Risking another glance, I’m surprised to see his eyes not on me, but focused on the paintings that he had leaned against his armchair. My portrait, with its flat, distracted gaze, seemed to be staring back at us from the angle at which it stood.

With this newfound distraction from his observation, I move to push myself up off the couch, snapping him out of whatever stupor he’d been wandering in. I make sure to speak before his mouth catches up to his brain. “Well, today’s been… fun, but I think I’m gonna head out.”

I feel a hand clasp around my forearm, and I barely bite back a yelp at the contact. “It’s pretty dark out there, neighbor. Are you sure you don’t want to just sleep here tonight? I think you’d be safer.”

Nope, nope, nope nope nope. I pull my arm away, praying it didn’t look as panicked as it felt. “I appreciate the concern, but I’ll have to pass. It’s not that long a walk, I’ll be fine.” I step away towards the door, and my stomach sinks when I hear Wally get up as well.

As I prepare to head out, the same hand settles upon my shoulder instead. “Well, if you’re sure, I won’t stop you,” he drawls, a trace of emotion I can’t quite name evident in his tone. He slips past me, opening the door himself. He tilts his head, eyes locked on mine. “Let’s do this again sometime. Won’t that be nice?”

If I didn’t know better, I’d say that was a challenge. Straightening up, I stand in the doorframe and meet his stare as evenly as I can. “I’m sure it would be.” The evening chill washes over me as I exit Home. “Good night, Wally.”

“Good night, neighbor. Sleep well.” My steps are steady and even as I walk down the porch stairs, and the light still pouring out as I walk away tells me that the door is still open. That he’s still there, still watching me. I hurry along towards my house, being sure to break out of his line of sight as soon as possible. It doesn’t help with the paranoia, but I pretend it does.

Tears nearly stream down my face in relief as I enter my own home and close the door, leaning back against it and sliding down to the ground. I don’t bother getting up, not to eat, not to shower, nothing. I just sit there, alternating between keeping my eyes closed to try and relax and opening them when I see those horrible eyes taunting me in the inky black. As I feel myself drifting off, one final thought crosses into my mind:

I never got my painting back from Wally.

[adrift-in-thyme]

@telemna-hyelle it took more than an hour (sorry about that) but here it is! The Four/Dot fluff I promised!

I hope it helps you end your day on a good note <33

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

He isn’t ready for this.

Four moves along the wooded path as if in a trance. He knows every step of this place like the back of his hand. But usually, he is much more attentive than this. Usually, he keeps a watchful eye on the surrounding area, scouting for the stray chu or keese. 

Today, however, he cannot seem to keep his mind on such things. The sunlight dappled earth beneath his feet, the scent of leaves and bark baked in the afternoon warmth, the breeze that caresses his cheeks, and the chittering of the many critters that scamper about within the foliage – they are all lost on him.

He feels Dot’s hand in his, her palm smooth and warm. He smells her perfume – light and sweet like the cotton candy they spin at the yearly festivals. He hears her laughter, bright and unrestrained and free as she tells a tale from her day. He sees her, radiant, hair like strands of gold and eyes the color of the joyful sky.

She looks at him, says something he can’t comprehend. He nods, conjures up a smile. With luck, it won’t be as strained as he feels that it is.

He has faced beasts one hundred times his size, navigated the pain and confusion of being split into four, saved the world twice. But by the golden three, he is not ready for this.

And yet, he is going through with it anyway. He can’t back down now. Not when his best friend is right here beside him, every moment of basking in her presence strengthening the love he feels for her. 

Four squares his shoulders. Yes, this is the right thing to do. The hardest things often are. 

The Minish have done a spectacular job preparing the clearing. That much is evident as soon as it comes into view. Everything is as they had planned. Every detail has been attended to with immaculate care.

Vines drape over tree limbs, their slim strands heavy with layered blossoms. Flower petals drift down in lazy pirouettes to join the coat of vibrant pink already lying on the forest floor. The sun glimmers through slightly parted branches. Not far off a fairy fountain casts its soothing glow. Soft notes of magic drift to Four’s ears as he leads Dot forward.

“Link,” she breathes, gazing upward and all around, eyes wide with adoration, “this is beautiful.”

“Yes, it is,” he agrees with a calm he in no way feels. “The Minish worked very hard on it.”

Dot turns to him now, head cocked in question. “The Minish? What do you…”

She trails off as he drops to one knee.

It feels as though he is kneeling on a bed of silk. But the sensation in his chest as he reaches into his pouch is about as pleasant as the Big Octorok sitting on him.

The ring is in his palm though, a delicate thing melted and shaped and fired by his own two hands. It had taken countless tries to get it right, to meld the corners into the perfect curve, to carve the designs in the way he imagined them to be. Making jewelry is not quite the same as crafting a sword. It requires a different sort of skill.

But he had found that skill within him. And he had created something beautiful. Something he will be proud to see upon her finger.

“Zelda,” he murmurs and curses the way his voice trembles a bit at the end, “Zelda, Princess of Hyrule, my dearest friend…” He raises his head, gazes into those big blue eyes. The ones that had shone with empathy when the pieces of himself had threatened to shatter him anew. The ones that had glowed with mirth and joy at the festivals, brightened when he told a joke, gone sharp with interest when he told a tale.

The eyes he has gotten lost in so many times before, and hopes to many more times in the future.

“Zelda, will you marry me?”

She stares at him for a long, agonizing moment, hand held to her mouth, emotion surging across her face. Then, she laughs. She laughs and the world sings with the noise. And she swoops down and lands a kiss right on his lips.

“Was…” he croaks when his surroundings have swung back into focus and the dizzying mixture of elation and trepidation have abated somewhat, “...was that a yes?”

“Oh, Link, of course, it was! Of course!” Her hands are on his face. The ring shines on one of her fingers, though he can’t remember placing it there. Everything is a haze, a haze of wonder and joy and fear. 

It looks perfect there, though. Almost as though she was born to wear it.

“I’ll marry you, Link!” She cries, visage aglow. “I would like nothing more!” 

A laugh bubbles from his lips now, smaller and more hesitant, but overjoyed nonetheless. He stands and suddenly, his arms are around her and hers around him and they are hugging like the world depends upon it. Like if they let go, this moment, this delicate, beautiful moment will solidify and shatter. 

Perhaps, it will. But Four likes to think that it is stronger than that. Like they are.

He blinks away the tears and smiles.

As a sword is forged to endure the struggles of time, so is their friendship made to withstand the toughest of tribulations. And that makes moments like this one even more precious.

“I love you,” she says and her very soul is in the words.

Four holds her tighter and makes himself a promise that he will never let her go. He will never allow her to fall in harm’s way again, never leave her to face life alone. No, they will stand tall through it all. Together. 

“I love you too,” he whispers. “I love you too.”

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Lapses

Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: In the wake of death our minds begin to wander. To better times, to little moments. Reality is so fickle in the minds of the weak. But he's coming back. Eventually.

Tags: No use of Y/N, hurt/no comfort, set mostly during the nine months Reader spent grieving before Billy returned in 'My Ghost,' disassociation, distorted reality, death, references to 'Twin Peaks' (1992).

Previous Works in Series: 'My Ghost' (original) • 'Repentance' (prequel)

Warning: You should at minimum read 'My Ghost' before reading this work in the series first. (For best reading experience, please read both previous works beforehand.)

Notes: :)

-¤°》◇《°¤-

Down comes clumps of wet snow from the grey sky, falling.

                And falling.

                         And falling.

I don't know when I wake up.

The TV has been on for hours. Flashing the same photos.

He smiled at me from across the room.

Don't think. Don't perceive. Don't focus.

"I think you look pretty with your hair like that," I told him. His cheeks are so rosy when he smiles.

Smiled.

Why is he smiling?

Where is that photo even from? Have they contacted me with any new details? Check your email.

"Is the internet working? I can't get this fucking email to go through."

He left on an errand.

"Did the auto-payment go through for the bill?"

He's coming back.

"You didn't tell me that was due, I don't have anything on the account."

He's coming back.

"You don't have anything?"

He's coming back.

"I don't have anything."

What are you supposed to do after a death?

There's no guide. There's no instruction manual. Grieve, move on. That's it. That is all we know. How am I supposed to do the second if the general public disapproves so heavily of the first?

There's a long while I don't even leave my house. I lock the doors, shut the curtains tight and nail them to the walls so he can't leave. Like he's captured in my basement, wilting in the darkness as I try to preserve his voice ringing in my ears like the sirens on the TV I eventually break when I throw the remote at it in a fit of rage and desperation.

"It's a piece of shit anyways," Billy would say when he saw it again. "I always meant to buy us a new one."

First thing I did when I found out was rip open my nightstand drawer. "William, have you ever shot a man?" I ask, bolting upright as I wipe the crust from my eyes.

"What the fuck did you do? What the fuck did you do?" I whispered under my breath. "Where the fuck is the gun?in my nightstand. And if I don't get some sleep soon, I'm going to use it. I haven't before, but I can't imagine it's hard."

I tore the house apart looking for it. He's unwell. Wasn't it just last night he was curled on my bed, so sweet and small as he stared at the wall in front of him?

He didn't feel well. He said his stomach hurts. My stomach hurts. Must have been something he ate, he mentioned a mistake. He wouldn't do this of his own free will, I know him.

He walks through the living room, pulling on a jacket to fight the cold air that seeps through the thin windows.

"Whatcha watching?"

Your report "'Twin Peaks,'" I told him.

"Oh shit, seriously? I haven't seen that since high school," he laugh'sowhodoicallabouttheremains?"

"Apparently they came out with a new season," I said. "Got us a free trial if we wanna watch."

"We gotta start from the beginning. Won't make sense if we don't," he says as he throws himself and one other dead thus far against the couch, almost landing on top of me in his excitement. It makes me scream.

Our first date was a little bit of a mess. I wasn't really expecting to meet someone when I did. But I met him. And he was sweet.

"So he didn't tell you anything about this?"

I've dated. I've seen a few guys. Not to sound easy, it was only a handful. But I'd only dated one other guy seriously. It was high school, lasted all the way through. Didn't end well.

"He was running an errand. He does it all of the time."

Billy picked me up fifteen minutes early. Claimed Google overshot the time estimate to my address, so he left early. Later he admitted it was a lie.

                                   But he's not a liar. Why won't anyone believe me?

"What does he do on the errands?"

"I don't know, get groceries or something. I never asked."

                         I never wanted to know.

Billy hasd this romantic side to him. Oh yes, Mister 'Primps and Primes in Front of The Mirror For an Hour Just To Get Drinks' had a flare for the dramatics. Who would have thought? And he showed up with this grocery store bouquet of lilies and baby's breath mixed with wildflowers from the local park.

"They price the hell out of these things for half the product. Figured I'd give you the proper amount," he said with a wink.

"Did you know he was affiliated with gang activities?"

"No!" Yes. "Of course not!" I helped him pack a bag of coke about a week ago.

Did you know that I love the color blue?

                                                                        No.

Mm hmm. Had it on everything. Even dyed my hair that color in high school.

      You with blue hair? You're full of shit.

No, I'm serious! Hated the bleaching process though. Do you know how bad it looks when you grow out dark hair from neon blue?

                          I imagine It'd look co-

Ld.

                              It's cold.

It's been a week. The police have decided I have nothing to do with this. The town has nothing to do with me.

The house is in shambles. But some things are prestine. Like his ashtray sitting on the kitchen table. I kept the surface clean for him, for when he comes back. A string of photos is on the wall from when we went to the arcade and found a photo booth. Half of them are photos of us just looking at each other. Not kissing. Not smiling. Just looking. He has such gentle eyes, you know? I tried to draw them once. They're really hard. They're just so soft, just the right angle. The skin on his eyes crease so specifically. And if you don't draw them right, it doesn't look like him at all. Told him I was gonna get it perfect eventually.

"I may have to go away for a little bit."

They won't give me anything to bury. They won't let him come home. One time Billy was trapped at a bus station during a snow storm and couldn't come home. He'd been running an errand for a friend. I think I know who that friend is now. Billy could hardly even call on the phone from how bad the storm was. He was so cold. Said he wished I was here. Said how much he misses me. Said there was a rerun of 'Twin Peaks' at the station keeping him company. So I put on the same episode and stared at the TV while I waited for him to regain service and let me know where he was. I told him to give me a call when he could.

I'm at the bottom of his closet. Our closet. I don't know why I'm here.

       When I was a child, I liked small spaces

Yeah?

"This is a hard time. It's only natural that you're grieving," says my mother on the other side of the phone.

A month ago Billy sat across from me, eyes trained on the TV as we smoked our way through season two.

"If I have a psychotic break, would you reenact history for me?" He teased around his joint.

"Why don't you go to church?"

"No one talks to me there. I've tried, momma. They hate me. They keep thinking I was in on it." I helped him pack a bag of coke.

"God won't judge you."

Scientists aren't really sure what happens to your mind when you die.

I've looked it up. Once. Read an article. Well, read is a strong word. More accurately I stared at it on my ancient computer I'd had since college while I disassociated for hours on end trying desperately to concentrate. Maybe it's morbid, but when your soon-to-be husband dies in a fire one is prone to wonder about such a thing.

Recent articles suggest DMT- a psychedelic drug that can occur naturally in plants -can actually be produced by your brain in the final moments of brain activity.

"Do you think there's anything after this?" He'd asked me one time as we layed beneath the stars, sand in our hair from the beach of the lake.

"I think we see what we need so that we'll be content as we drift away."

"Studies of animals undergoing brain death have found that the organ begins to release numerous signaling molecules and creates unusual brainwave patterns to try to resuscitate itself, even as it shuts down external signs of consciousness."

I'm sorry. I can't focus anymore. On anything. I feel like my lungs are being squeezed from bottom to top like a tube of gogurt.

We were hardly paying attention to the show anymore. So smoked out it was hilarious to us, laughing at everything as we focused on nothing except for the feeling of each others skin. My hands on his cheeks, his hands covering mine so soothingly. It was so sweet when he guided me off the floor where I lay. Julee Cruise sang on the old TV. Falling, falling. All I can feel is falling as he guides me into a gentle sway across the old shag carpet lit with the mid-July sunset, holding me like I'll fall far, far away.

"I think I've fallen in love with you," Billy whispered against my ear. His breath is warm.

"Yeah?" I'm too high for this conversation. I didn't even realize how low my tolerance had gotten since the last time I smoked. "You make me feel like I'm in high school again."

We'd danced the whole night. He didn't know hardly any of the songs, causing him to be off beat. I was too drunk to keep time, so I stepped on his leather boots enough times there was a visible scuff on the top of one by the end of the night. I always felt bad, offering to replace or help pay to fix it. He wouldn't let me.

"I could die tomorrow and I'd be happy," Billy confessed in a strained voice, finally letting all of the walls come tumbling down around us to the gentle beat of the song. "I'm so glad I got to meet you."

I was so nervous during our first date that I forgot how to eat hummus properly. It sounds so silly, doesn't it? But there was something about him. He wore this white button up shirt, basic jeans that were tight on his thighs. Not that I was looking. Much. His hair was combed neatly, gelled away from his face in a chic manner. Really, he took the whole thing so seriously he almost looked like some youth pastor they would have shuffled into a room with high schoolers to play a guitar and say 'you know, I was troubled once'  before offering his story of repentance. It was so different from how he usually looked. Was he scared?

But anyways, I was so nervous that when they brought us our tray of hummus and bread to share, I took my little triangle slices and barely dipped them so to not look greedy before shoving the whole piece in my mouth one by one. I didn't even remember I was supposed to tear them apart until a week later. I was just trying to avoid double dipping.

"I think that's the first time I fell in love with you," Billy confessed. I giggle so stupidly, so incredibly high as I float on air.

"Because I was stupid?" I ask.

"Because you were sweet," he said.

There's a long moment of silence, the music swelling and making the cheap TV vibrate from the bass it was unequiped to handle.

"Tell me you'll marry me one day," he whispered.

What do you do with a ring that no one wants you to wear? I'm sorry I couldn't help you.

"Isn't it a little early for that?" I laughed softly.I'm sorry you went out on a romantic whim and borrowed money you shouldn't have for the ring I was too ashamed to wear on the proper finger. "It's only been a year." I don't even think we're dancing anymore. I think I'm sorry you couldn't come back for me.we're just swaying softly to the music flowing around us in a blind stupor, the humidity so suffocating outside that Billy shoved an electric fan in the living room window to try and blow in the cool air earlier that afternoon.

And I'm sorry for hating you when you showed up unannounced at my door.

“It shuts the door to the outside world and takes care of internal business because the house is on fire,”  says biomedical scientist Charlotte Martial of the University of Liège, who studies near-death experiences.

He looks guilty sitting on the bed, watching me fiddle with the small container in front of me.

"You can't bring much," he tells me. There's sadness in his voice, honest and tired. His clothes smell like lavender.

"It's fine," I said.

He simply stares at me, bags heavy under his eyes. He had this spark of life before he returned to me that evening. I'm so glad he's home. Things weren't the same.

"Your hair looks so pretty like that," I said, stepping closer to cup his face in my hands. The contents of my nightstand drawer stabbing the bare skin of my feet as I walk to him. He blushes, looking away in shame.

"You can't ever come back if you leave with me," he says softly.

"I have nothing to return to. Everything is gone," I insisted. But I can see he's having second thoughts, glancing down the hallway. "You can't leave me again."

"What the fuck is that?" I screamed into the phone.

"Baby, I don't know-"

"There is a manhunt for my fucking fiánce who can hardly kill a fucking spider and all you want to say is you don't fucking know?!"

There's an article staring at me. Sent by my mother just a few minutes prior. Billy had been gone for a couple hours after leaving me with a small little keychain on the kitchen table and a soft kiss on my forehead, saying he had some plans for that evening. But he'll be back soon. He wasn't lying.

"I want you to come. But you have to be sure."

His eyes are desperate, staring up at me as I stoke his hair away from his face. His clothes smell like lavender.

They finally sent him home today. Took nine months. First they had to confirm it was his remains. Then I had to decide where I wanted him to go. It's such a hard process trying to get your loved ones back, especially when you were running out of the pills that kept you sane. Kept you wrapped in the thick fog of memories left behind to damn the living in a house that has turned more into a tomb. No sunlight, no visitors. My mother came over to see us once, but the smell was so bad she left soon after. I got a new bottle today. Might as well, after all.

He looks so tired on my bed. Curled in on himself. You could fit him in a box. So small. So tired.

It's so cold.

                  "You know, today would've been our anniversary?"

Zemmar says, because “death is sort of a mystery—we don’t really know what it is.”

I wonder who found me alone in the closet of our room.

                    We were too busy dancing to notice.

▪︎》◇《▪︎

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

Masterlist • Article

[the-au-collector]

Four is Jesus (Part 2)

@not-freyja I did not forget about this! I just had too many incoherent thoughts I needed to sort out, but now I have some more thoughts for my whole “Four is Jesus” headcanon.

What roadblocked me a lot was that the religion of Hylia is already very heavily based in Christian motifs and symbols. So I really want to shout out @trash-aged-like-fine-wine for their reblog of my post (read it here seriously) which helped me figure out some things like:

pre-four swords era = the old testament

Four sealing away darkness = "dying for our sins"

the Palace of the Four Swords = the cave Jesus was buried in

So with that out of the way I had to figure out the details of Four's sacrficie. Since the religion is Christian-like and idk if crucifixion would fit into Legend of Zelda, I don’t want Four to just get crucified but I also didn’t know how to make him sacrifice himself in a way that could somehow create a cross motif. Then I thought about getting stabbed/sealing yourself in a sword. It fits for sacrifice. And swords kinda look like crosses. The idea is that over time the religious motif of a sword simplified into a cross shape.

This is the direction I think I want my Christian-like religion to go. It’s a split from the normal Hylian religion, kind of like how Christianity split from Judaism. So Hylia is still the main god, but some subset of Hylians decided Four was somehow related to Hylia. Those details are still in the works. I’m thinking maybe he was brought down from the sky or something since he’s the Hero of the Minish and the Minish reportedly came from the sky. Religion does have an element of truth to it (spiritual religions are based in nature, most polytheistic gods have something to do with natural forces, Jesus was a real person who existed. This is the sort of thing is what I’m talking about), but the thing that’s really fascinating to me is how humans interpret it into being divine. So I’m both focusing on the real thing that happened, and how people would later interpret it.

Which brings me to Four’s sacrifice. Most of my fics and worldbuilding overlap, so I’m going to just *nabs my idea for Ruthlessness from my Cost of Courage/Epic AU*. Four sacrifices himself for Shadow by either being killed by a powerful foe (no it’s not Fierce Deity like in my Epic AU that detail might be changing anyway) or, more likely, sealing himself into the Four Sword to save Shadow (which I said in my previous post could be interpreted as saving everyone, since the idea is that people believe Shadow is the manifestation of our sins.) This is seen as the Ultimate Sacrifice. This opens up very valid beliefs of a second coming. It also can kind of explain the cross motif without making Four have to get crucified. And best yet, it’s at least semi-canon compliant.

I know Four’s games (and I think he’s also merged with the Hero of Men from Minish Cap’s opening???) can somehow be interpreted as religious stories. Especially with the light force thing going on, and literally killing a demon thing. And I know I’m also going to pull stories from my Lorule worldbuilding (it’s coming! It’s coming!), so I think there’s enough there to theoretically make a religious book promoting similar ideas to Christianity. I cannot stress enough that I’m aiming for Christian-like instead of “hey let’s dump Christianity with no extra thought into LoZ for the fun of it.” Most of things that make Christianity Christianity don’t even exist in LoZ!

But uh yeah. Here’s more thoughts on that. Lorule stuff will come in a part 3… eventually.

[rageprufrock]

Sneak Peak: MLC Fanfic

I have so many chores to do so instead I am on tumblr posting this little snippet instead because adulthood is a SCAM.

Anyway, please have some in-progress modern AU where Jiao Liqiao hits Di Feisheng with a car.

The whole thing starts when Jiao Liqiao hits Di Feisheng with an orange Hummer outside of the Alliance Security headquarters while he's on the phone with Li Lianhua.

***

Six hours later, Li Lianhua is sitting around in Di Feisheng's hospital room dressed like someone's dad's dirty uncle best friend: beat up pajama pants, a shirt he'd grabbed at random hearing the shriek of tires through the phone line, and a pair of Fang Duobing's fucking sky blue Adidas slides he'd stolen as he'd bolted out the door.

"It's not that I want to criticize you, lao-Di," Li Lianhua says, critically, "but I told you to run that woman out of town as soon as humanly possible at least five times."

Di Feisheng, who's been provided pain medication and is angry about it, busies himself with glaring at the ceiling. 

"Now look at you," Li Lianhua goes on, like a bastard, "you've got a hairline fracture in your foot, you've got a broken leg, three cracked ribs, a low grade concussion, and also you're the top four trending tags on Weibo." 

That these are factual statements does not make Li Lianhua's continued, unwanted presence in Di Feisheng's hospital room any less insufferable. 

"Alliance Security CEO accident," Li Lianhua reads off his phone. "Alliance CEO car crash. Alliance CEO crazy girlfriend. Alliance CEO handsome." 

Di Feisheng's head lolls around so he can center a wild-eyed glare at Li Lianhua.

"Why are you here?" he asks through gritted teeth.

Li Lianhua squints at him. "Can you be considered human?" he demands. "There I was, enjoying my Saturday morning like a normal person—"

"You were calling me to complain that our CDN felt 'kind of slow,' like an asshole," Di Feisheng corrects.

"—and then I hear you yelling and the sounds of vehicular violence," Li Lianhua goes on. "Any person with a heart would be concerned."

"Fang Duobing made you come," Di Feisheng says.

"Fang Duobing made me come," Li Lianhua agrees.

"Well I'm not dead, so you can leave now," Di Feisheng mutters.

"'As someone who has also wanted to hit their boss with a car, but never truly had the courage, I respectfully acknowledge Jiao Liqiao as my master and will endeavor to serve her as a faithful student in all things,'" Li Lianhua reads, going back to scrolling through Weibo. "'I never want to know the truth or any details about why she did it. Just that she hit this beautiful mean-faced millionaire with a car is enough. I would die for her.'"  

Di Feisheng goes back to staring at the ceiling and begins to systematically reflect on the wrongs that have led to specific terrible moment. This begins with lingering resentment over college scheduling that had put him in a 9:30 programming basics class with Li Xiangyi and concludes with admitting that perhaps Fang Duobing had been right when he'd said, two years ago, "A'Fei, you can't just tell a woman it's fine if she's in love with you and that you guys can keep working together but that it's none of your business." But at that point, Fang Duobing was still the infant Li Xiangyi was fucking as some kind of weird post mental breakdown enrichment activity, and seemed like a poor source of professional counseling. In the years since, Di Feisheng can admit that while Fang Duobing continues to be an infant Li Xiangyi is fucking as a weird post mental breakdown enrichment activity, he has a sharp and nuanced emotional intelligence—as long as it has nothing to do with his profoundly repulsive attachment to Li Xiangyi. 

"Miss Jiao is going to get some truly staggering letters in jail," Li Lianhua observes with audible admiration in his voice. For not the first and likely not the last time, Di Feisheng swears never to answer another phone call or text message from this bastard again.  

"If you like her so much, you should hire her once she's served her time," he mutters through gritted teeth. The sharp edge of pain is starting to break through the drugs, but he feels clearer, sharper, less like he's trying to hear shouting through the rush of a flowing river. "Is there a reason you're still hanging around here?" 

Li Lianhua slants him a look, beaming with charity. "Now don't get shy, A'Fei—"

"Stop calling me A'Fei," Di Feisheng snaps.

"—I came in a DiDi, so Xiaobao is coming to pick me up," Li Lianhua finishes. "You'll be back to your peace and blessed quiet soon." 

Which is of course the precise moment that little treasure of Li Lianhua's pokes his abominably sunny little face into the doorway of the sickroom and declares, all smiles:

"Okay! I just finished with the nursing jiejies! They’re wrapping up your discharge paperwork and we should be able to take you home with us this afternoon.” 

“What,” Di Feisheng and Li Lianhua say.

[putschki1969]

2024/09/27 Wakanaとみんなで行って来た！屋形船でまんぷくに！！〜一日目の巻〜

❗This is Fan Club EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ ❗Do NOT SHARE on other sites❗ ❗Join her FAN CLUB! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗

Let's All Go Together! On A Houseboat Full-Course Tour!! 〜Day 1〜

The other day, my “Join Wakana! Houseboat Full-Course Tour” ended successfully after two eventful days ＼(^o^)／I had so much fun that time went by in a flash…just like a live show😂

I'd like to look back on these two fun days and share a lot of photos with you! First, I'd like to talk about the Day 1 event which took place in the evening😊Here's the meal I've been looking forward to for a long time! Huge tempura!! 🍤🍤🍤 So crispy!! A variety of amazing dishes!! 😭✨Take a look at this big ~Menu~. I'm so happy that we were able to do justice to the tour name by having so many different courses😊

I am saying my greetings to all participants of Day 1✨Cheers!! ♪(^^)o∀∀o(^^*)♪ Everyone seemed to enjoy their meal which made me very happy♪ We were all divided into groups at each table. Since there were a lot of solo attendees, I wondered what it would be like for them~?😳 Even though, some of them were meeting each other for the first time, everyone seemed to enjoy pouring drinks for each other and chatting. I was relieved to see you getting along with each other😊As expected, all my Botanical companions are full of kindness!! ＼(^o^)／Thank you!! ＼(^o^)／💕

We all got to enjoy the night view of Odaiba while feeling the night breeze on the boat♡ On that day, it was pretty windy and rainy in the morning so I was quite worried about our little boat trip…😱 I couldn't help but feel anxious💦 But just in time for the boarding, we were able to see the most beautiful sunset once the sky had cleared up a bit. The temperature was just right with a nice breeze. I think everyone enjoyed watching the sunset while waiting for the boat…😊(I was secretly watching everyone on board from afar and waving at you.) Anyway, I'm glad it was sunny😊💕

Here's a picure of Rainbow Bridge as seen from the houseboat🌉 And he Fuji TV building was shining brilliantly📺 There were many houseboats all around us ♪

We did a Q&A corner! It was fun😂But of course, the best thing about this houseboat was karaoke!! After boarding, we distributed a song list to everyone, and each table got to choose one song they wanted to hear. They all wrote their request on a little board we provided🌟(Here's one of the request boards. A fan drew this cute picture!) Here I am during the karaoke session🎤The song choices were well-balanced and varied, which was fun. Unfortunately, we all struggled a lot with the karaoke machine on Day 1🤣 I didn't know that I had to "select the original key," so I was confused when I kept getting a key that was too low for my voice. As for the microphone, I wanted to sing close to the speaker, but there was always feedback…It was difficult to find a goof position that didn't cause any trouble💦After a lot of trial and error, I ended up singing with my back facing the audience😂😂 Sorry to everyone behind me…😭😭Actually, the mystery was solved the following day. It seems that the houseboat karaoke machine is designed for people to sit while singing. Makes sense if you think about it. But at that time I wasn't able to figure it out at all🤣 That's why every time I stood up to sing, I got this horrible feedback *sobs*. But eventually, I found a good position that worked for me so I didn't leave that spot for the remainder of the karaoke session🎤At the end of Day 1, I found a wonderful message by a fan…😭✨A rabbit and sharks🦈🦈Thank you for the message😊

I chose this yukata for Day 1 because the yellow flowers were cute🌼I used a gyoza ornament for the obidome🥟This is actually a gyoza magnet that I received from a fan. I had it attached to my obidome🥟My manager actually helped me put on the yukata‼ ️＼＼\٩( 'ω' )و //／／Some of the participants came to the event in kimonos and yukatas, it's amazing that you can put them on by yourself…😳 I'm jealous😳

All right, that was Day 1 of my “Join Wakana! Houseboat Full-Course Tour” ･:*+.(( °ω° ))/.:+ Next time I'll write about the event on Day 2 which took place during the daytime.

~To be continued~

Last but not least! Today, the key visual for "Wakana Classics 2024", was released, so I thought I'd talk a little bit about it here ♡ Sorry for the sudden departure from my houseboat stories😂For the photo shoot, I got to wear a beautiful dress again✨ It was raining really hard that day but thanks to my photographer who always brings the sun with him, it ended up being sunny! 😍 I'm glad we were able to take many pictures outdoors surrounded with greenery🌿 Actually, the composition of this key visual is pretty much the same as the one for my May live. I'm even looking in the same direction😊 This year, I was able to safely celebrate my 5th Anniversary as a solo artist. I'm looking towards the future, at all the things that I believe await me beyond today, "sono saki e". Believing that there is an even bigger world waiting for us "beyond," gives me the courage to continue to forge ahead with all of you. Please continue following me‼️＼＼\٩( 'ω' )و //／／

Well, that's all for today! Until next time~☆( '▽')/

＊＊＊Wakana＊＊＊

2024/09/28 Wakanaとみんなで行って来た！屋形船でまんぷくに！！〜二日目の巻〜

❗This is Fan Club EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ ❗Do NOT SHARE on other sites❗ ❗Join her FAN CLUB! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗

Let's All Go Together! On A Houseboat Full-Course Tour!! 〜Day 2

Well, today I'd like to talk about Day 2 of “Join Wakana! Houseboat Full-Course Tour”! This time, the event took place around noon‼︎＼＼\٩( 'ω' )و //／／It rained from the morning on this day as well (why!😂) and I wondered what would happen but thankfully…the sun came out just in time！！ ！ ！ ＼(^o^)／The view from the houseboat was the same Odaiba area, but during the day, it was completely different from the previous night's view. Such a refreshing blue sky! The Rainbow Bridge♪ And Fuji TV📺Look at those beautiful clouds…😍The sun was bright, but there was a lovely breeze, very pleasant〜😊

On the second day, I wore a grape🍇 patterned yukata🤗 Here I am filming something for my FC video section! 🎥 (please be patient and wait a little while longer)

My Botanical companions of Day 2 were watching over me with smiles on their faces😂Thank you everyone〜😆Here's a photo of everyone on the boat on Day📸Cheers‼️♪(^^)o∀∀o(^^*)♪ Everyone was just as energetic as during Day 1‼︎😊I'm actually jealous that you were all drinking alcohol in the daytime😍 (I just had oolong tea!) Once again I was looking forward to the freshly fried tempura!! 🍤💕I was so happy to see them bringing out all the delicious fried food…😭✨

It goes without saying that we were able to enjoy the view outside better than at night. I was also surprised at how fast we were going😳 I had a blast eating amazing food and looking at the gorgeous view 😊(Here's a lovely photo taken by my manager📸 Kind of looks like Spirited Away)

On Day 2, I finally learned how to use the karoake machine properly so I sang while sitting in the request karaoke corner😂I tried a few different sitting positions *laughs* Look at my half-sitting posture🤣🤣So innovative! I got to sing in a great place again😁🎶I wonder if it's okay to have karaoke sessions like this more often? Where I can just casually do whatever I want🎤*laughs* Sorry to everyone who only got to look at my back😂 I got another cute picture drawn on one of Day 2's request boards😊Amagi-Goe by Sayuri Ishikawa! It was fun to sing enka in front of everyone for the first time🎤

At the end of both days, there was a big raffle corner in which I gave away parts of my precious Pothos to two people each day! It's growing fast so I have to cut it regularly. It was the perfect timing to cut off a few parts for you😊 I actually bought my Pothos baby at "Shibuya Engei". My trip was featured in Botanical Tsushin Vol.12! Page 17!! (Look how tiny it was!😳By the way, the pot in the photo has since been repurposed for another baby of mine, a plant called Agave Titanota🌱) If you put a cut part of my Pothos into water, this is what will happen…! ＼＼\٩( 'ω' )و //／／Once the roots have grown, you can just change the water about once a month (it's okay if you forget to do it occasionally) By the way, I did an experiment to see if roots would grow from just the leaves, and they did! ＼＼\٩( 'ω' )و //／／That's amazing 😳To the four people who won parts of my Pothos, please take care of them and let them grow 😊💕And please don't worry, it's okay if they die! Plants are sensitive to their environment, so they die all the time! But once they find a place they like, they'll grow really big! I hope you have fun growing plants‼ ︎😍Everyone else, if you're interested, please also try growing a Pothos🌿

Finally, here are some of my stuffed animals. I had them on display all over the boat! So cute~🤤💕🐙🦈I put a lot of them around the karaoke machine too🦈In fact, I also placed a Kaito Kid plushie all the way in the back (￣▽￣) Thank you everyone for the fun time over the course of those two days‼ ︎‼ ︎‼ ︎･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:･'(ﾟ▽ﾟ)'･:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

It was my first time planning an event like this but we all had fun eating, talking about all sorts of things, taking pictures, singing songs… It was great😂I also got a lot of presents from you…😭✨My Botanical companions are always so kind and warm, you make my heart feel at ease😊Thank you so much!!! I'll keep thinking of more fun fan club activities for you! ! ! ＼＼\٩( 'ω' )و //／／Hopefully we can get back together soon!!

〜The end〜

Today, the advanced ticket lotteries on various ticket platforms for "Wakana Classics 2024" have started! 🎻🎹🎶Let's spend time together surrounded by music at Wakana Classics at the end of yet another year ('▽')

[Date] December 18th; Open at 17:45 / Start 18:30 [Venue] Hamarikyu Asahi Hall (Music Hall) [Performers] Vocals: Wakana Music Director/Piano: Sin (Hashimoto Shin) Violin: Yanagihara Yuya Cello: Nishikata Masateru

And since this concert marks the end of my 5th year as a solo artist, I decided to create a special music box to commemorate the anniversary‼ ︎･:*+.(( °ω° ))/.:+ The song is "Sono Saki e"😊 I told the team I'd like to have a design inspired by stained glass. They really did a great job with the pattern on the top and the illustration in the box😭✨I hope you will enjoy this commemoration of my 5th Anniversary. Matching the title of the song "Sono Saki e"🌟, I'd like to convey all my thoughts for the future with this.

[Pre-order] Wakana 5th Anniversary "Sono Saki e" music box

And finally! I'd like to remind you of the submission deadline for this month's podcast talk theme!! ＼＼\٩( 'ω' )و //／／This time the main topic is "Everyone's Rules of Healthy Living"! Do you take a walk every day? Or do you drink anything special?! Maybe you always try to remember to smile? Things like that...Please let me know what you all do to stay healthy😉

▼Next talk topic -Everyone's Rules of Healthy Living -Any Questions for Wakana https://wakana-fc.jp/answers/botanical_oshaberi_14/new

So, that's it for today!! Until next time~☆( '▽')/

＊＊＊Wakana＊＊＊

[vamptarot]

Get To Know Your Reader

— ⭑.ᐟ this post will detail information about me and about my journey with tarot, and it is made with an effort to create a bond with my followers that relies on trust.

Hi sweet little darling, thank you for reading this post and being interested in me and my journey. While I do not enjoy talking about myself too much, I never enjoyed being cold towards people I interact with, could possibly friends with or form any sort of connection with.. so with that in mind, I wanted to make a post in which you get to know who is doing your readings for you, with the utmost friendly manner possible.

To start off, you probably must have read my pinned already in which you get to learn that my screen name is Rory, and that I am a 03 liner! What’s not there though, is that I am genderfluid and prefer he/him pronouns, but I really don’t care if you use different ones for me. At the end of the day, no one will die from it.

I love tarot, but I am interested in anything that is spiritual. The world is full of wonderful things, and I want to explore what’s real and what’s not. [Okay, Dipper Pines.]

I, for one, believe in God, Jesus, Mary and so on.. However I am not Christian. It’s not a community I am proud of, neither do I have enough hate in my heart to be called one. Although, I did use to be one, until I have seen parts of the community I will never be proud of. Though, that is a story for another time, as I don’t want to go on a vent about it on this post. I also admire the teachings of buddhism, although I am not one either. As Thich Nhat Hanh once said, ‘you don’t have to convert to buddhism in order to respect it’s teachings. just apply it to whatever you are right now.’, or you know, something like that. It’s what I try to keep myself to, so I can have a peaceful heart.

Aside from that I believe that the only limit to spirituality is the lock that you put on your mind. If you don’t believe in it, why would you experience it? You are the universe, if you don’t believe in it you sure as hell won’t see it.. So therefore, I do my best to be open minded and believe in as much things as possible. I will never miss out, unless I wish to 🙂‍↕️

Unfortunately that mentality has led me to quite a few encounters with spirits, pretty sure demons a few times, but at the end of the day I survived so it was fun.

I believe in all the Gods and Goddesses, manifestation (I am amazing at this btw), clair-gifts, reality jumping/shifting, astral projection, witchcraft and so on.. name it, I probably believe in it.

Although, I was cursed with a rational mind.. for the spiritual, I am too rational.. for the non believers I am too in the clouds. Is there a way to win? Well, as long as I am having fun and living well who cares. That’s sorta my motto.

Anyway, one thing you don’t know yet about me though is that I have the most common sun sign on planet earth, which is Virgo, with the second most common sign on earth having a strong influence on my chart.. which is Leo! So you already know I am meant to be a hard working star, that stays in the sky for millions of years, making people look at it with awe. 🙂‍↕️

Some people call that egoistic, I call it having confidence. My only enemy is my speech disability... BUT HE IS LOSING !!! 🗣️

Jokes aside, I have made this blog for important reasons. Important to me, at least. First and foremost, of course I want to have better finances, save up for important things and feel a bit more free. I want to achieve this through hard work. That is my most selfish reason for it, and it’s not something I feel bad about.. everybody has the right to live, and that includes me!

As for my other reasons, that all has to do with things I dislike about the community and which I want to change. Not everything about it, but make little steps towards a brighter future.

This is where I will vent, as the things I will mention are important to my journey towards creating this blog. I am a pretty passionate speaker, and as you can tell I talk a lot. So if that’s something you don’t enjoy.. well prepare mentally or click of the post beautiful, those probably won’t change about me. I don’t mean this from an ill place of my heart, but don’t you think you have the right to know?

Anyway, one of my main reasons for starting this blog is due to how judgmental some tarot readers are. I am of course, not speaking about those who have boundaries, I believe everybody should have them in a healthy manner.

I am speaking about those tarot readers that belittle you over your differences, that say that you can ask any question because they will answer each one but purposefully delete yours while answering everyone else then lie to your face about it, those who immediately rule you out as a bad person as soon as you speak your mind because they cannot handle anything about this community that’s outside their fantasy bubble, that give you inaccurate readings because they are judgmental of your lifestyle and their mentality effects the result of cards, those who don’t hear you out on your experience and rule it out as something else despite claiming they are open minded, the ones that are fake kind to you but judge the kind of reading you buy… as if you cannot tell that their energy is off.

I know hate is a strong word, but I hate the behaviour of those sort of people. Not the people themselves, I don’t know them, but the behaviour is so displeasing in my eyes. [Personally, I don’t feel sorry for saying this, if the shoe doesn’t fit you, don’t wear it.]

That is why I want to create a blog that is a safe space, a judgement free zone.

To be honest with you my dear, I am not the most open minded on this planet despite being a diverse person. I prefer to dress modestly, hook up culture was never for me and never will be for me, I don’t get the appeal of smoking, vape, drinks or drugs. Matter of fact, if you do drugs, even if it’s “just” weed I will assume that you are going through it. One thing I am never going to do is judge you though. As long as you are not irresponsible with it, it should be fine. Watch out for your health and for those around you.. That’s what I think the key is, having manners. Like sure, you will make mistakes along the way but it won’t stain your heart. Besides, who doesn’t make mistakes? I for sure have made mistakes before, as I am a human. What right do I have to judge you so harshly? None.

I am not God, I am just me.

That is why I never want to become someone that makes you feel unsafe and judged even if I have my own opinions. What’s the point of being a spiritual healer if you, yourself inflict pain on others? It might be small, but pain is pain and everyone carries it within their heart differently. What doesn’t matter to me, could move mountains for you.

That is the reason why I also didn’t start posting here until I have healed from my past hurts. Maybe not for you, but to me my current personality is very bubbly and much different from who I used to be. Which, although makes me a feel a bit unusual, I am glad about! I now have more strength to be kind and accepting of people.

I am aware this doesn’t really sound convincing, and some followers of mine could be anxious of how they are perceived.. Which is valid, but what if you are different from me? So what? There are many people who I love dearly despite them not sharing my beliefs or life style.

Matter of fact, let me tell you about a few examples where I have done readings for people that were majorly different from me.

The very first one is about a friend of mine.. she is someone with very interesting kinks. I will not be writing them out, because it makes my stomach turn and I don’t want you to read that. However, one day she asked me if the person she is in a situationship with is into the same.. gore related stuff as her. You know what? That honestly shocked me, I needed like half an hour to calm down and do her reading, which luckily ended up being ‘a no, but willing to try out other things’ sorta answer. A few months later she told me I ended up being right.. Proud of my intuition, and a few days later I could just accept that some people are into that. Do I get it? Nah, but as long as both parties consent, who cares. [I wanna state no one got hurt during this, they are just kinky mfs 🫡]

Or, let me tell you about another friend of mine who happens to be an online friend! She was going to a concert of an artist she likes and told me she will be giving the guy her number. To be honest with you, I wasn’t clear of her intentions I just knew it wasn’t malicious. Like any person, I reacted out of surprise, ‘okay, yeah, sure’.. because when would you have the time to do that during a concert? But being the kind of friend that I am still did a yes or no reading for her upon her request. To my surprise the lovers fell out with the star.. I was like, that cannot be right.. So I shuffled another three times. The same cards kept on falling out… Which actually made me mad, she thought I was lying! After that, we didn’t speak for a few days. Until the day of the concert! Where she told me she was successful! Now I accused her of lying, lmao. Then she sent me a picture of them hugging as proof, and you know what? I was actually excited for her, like go girl. I do not know if she got to sign an NDA that day or not, but I have enough common sense to finish the story here 🫡 [for my obsessive little princesses and princes that worry that was their celebrity crush.. it wasn’t, this about, is at that time, in his mid 30s white man. for those into that, not the jones brothers bby. my friend is also his age, so don’t worry about it. I do not intend ‘princess’ and ‘prince’ as mocking, they are nicknames I like! I also call my friends these]

I have also done readings about how xyz will die, messages from Gods, past life readings, why is __ acting weird, reading about cults.. lot of diverse things.

Either way, I have strayed away from the point a bit which I don’t want to further do…The point is, I never want to be the sort of person that makes you feel belittled. So even if your reading is not my style, as long as it doesn’t affect your or anybody’s health in a bad manner, I will happily do it. Even if you or other people think it’s weird!

After all I am a weirdo too, lol. I believe we all are in somebody’s eyes. What’s normal for me, can be weird for you and vise versa. That’s why I just decided to be unapologetically myself on this blog! And if you decide to do the same, I am proud of you.

My goal when making readings for people is to let them know they are safe, understood, respected and will get the best that they can get from me.

As in, I will always try to make my readings good and accurate. Since I talk a lot, I will make every reading long by default, and I will never do them when exhausted, stressed or overwhelmed in order to make sure that they actually do resonate. I have a lot of passion for this, so my ultimate goal is to be sincere and hardworking since tarot is something I take seriously.

Since there are people who use AI to do readings, I will work twice as hard to show that it will never be as good as when someone actually cares for the person the reading is for. I know they think nobody notices, but I do. And I will create a better environment for people in the community out of pure spite!

So, even if it will take a while to do that.. take a seat! I will be here, doing my best.

I do sincerely wish that you will find me a refreshing person, and a good reader! Well, I know I am good, I have been doing this since I am 8 years old, practicing it every week! But, if our bond can become stronger through readings that’s always good! I am happy to be reading for any of you.

If you still don’t like me after this.. that’s completely okay! You are not obligated to. Maybe in a few months, or years I won’t like the person I am today either! Maybe my humour will change, or I will find myself egoistic, or perhaps too bubbly and annoying. Who knows! For now, this is the person that I am, and if you don’t like it, that’s okay! I hope you will find a reader that you can connect and click with like it’s meant to be. I think everyone deserves that! 🫶🏻💓

If you have made it this far… are you not exhausted reading this much? Have a drink, and a snack if you want! Take a break if you have been scrolling on tumblr for long. Or don’t, it’s up to you what you do with your time 🫡

Thank you for reading, I sincerely appreciate you from the bottom of my heart with each passing day where the sun rises and falls.

[starstruckzine]

A little AU lore...

"Your old man is going to lose it." Keigo chuckled as he watched Touya towel dry his freshly dyed hair. The snow-white locks were pitch black, and his white tee shirt was splattered with patches of purple that matched the scarred tissue covering the lower half of his face and arms.

"Like he'll even notice." Touya scoffed as he grabbed his guitar off the bed. "The only way Endeavor would ever pay attention to me is if I set the city on fire," he paused, a wide grin crossing his lips as he added, "or killed someone."

"Don't even joke about that, you psycho."

Touya played a few chords and laughed at the worry in his best friend's voice. "Don't get your panties in a bunch, Birdie. I've got a different plan in mind for the future."

🌟

Dabi read through the email he'd received a few minutes earlier from the band's manager. Their record label was putting together a tour; some big, fancy music festival that would travel the world over the span of a year. The details were being finalized, and Cremation had been invited to take part in the event.

A faint smile curled his lips as he turned and stared out the window of his penthouse apartment. The sky was dark, but the city was an ocean of colors: red and gold and bright white sparkling into the distant horizon. Maybe he hadn't become a hero like his father, but Touya Todoroki made a name for himself. And he did it on his own terms. Now, millions of people admired him, listened to his songs, and crawled over one another to buy his merchandise.

In a lot of ways, he'd surpassed Enji Todoroki, was living for it.

His phone rang, vibrating against the desk. He didn't need to glance at the screen to know who was on the line before he answered the call. "Hey, Birdie. I'm gonna guess you saw Compress's email."

Keigo chuckled. "World tour, huh?"

"That's what it says."

"Ever think we'd see the day?"

Dabi glanced at the display case in the corner of the room. A soft blue light illuminated the interior where a single guitar hung. It was just an old acoustic model, plastered with a collage of skulls and crosses. The brand name had worn off long before he ever touched it, but he never cared about labels anyway.

"Of course, I did. Everything worked out according to my plan."

A small blue flame lept from the palm of his hand. He watched it flicker as he listened to Keigo rattle off a list of places he wanted to visit during the tour. The bird's early childhood years  made him desperate to explore as much of the world as possible. Dabi's determination to succeed had almost as much to do with giving Keigo that freedom as it did with showing up his old man.

Now, all of their dreams were about to be realized on a scale he never dared to imagine.

"You're gonna run me ragged this entire tour, aren't you?" Dabi groaned as he extinguished the flame, but a grin stole across his lips. The social media opportunities would be limitless. So many chances to throw his fame in Endeavor's face.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you there's no rest for the wicked?" Keigo was laughing now, the excitement obvious in his voice.

Dabi chuckled, too. He'd strayed towards more nefarious paths when they were younger, considered actions that would have gotten him branded as something worse than "bad boy rock star". Somehow, Keigo always managed to drag him back in the right direction, kicking and screaming at times, but he was grateful for the support. Thinking about how things could have ended up without the bird made him cringe.

"Seriously, though," Keigo said suddenly, no trace of humor left in his tone, "I don't think I've ever thanked you."

"Thanked me? For what?"

"Are you kidding? For the music. The band. For making sure I didn't end up like my old man... Or yours."

"Like hell you'd - "

"Touya, shut up and let me finish. I'm just saying that my life could have gone a lot of different ways, but I'm grateful for where I ended up. I don't have a single regret about where I'm headed, and it's because of you."

Dabi was silent for a long moment, unsure how to respond. He glanced over at the desk and saw two new notifications on his phone. One was a text from Himiko, and the second was another email from Compress, titled "Please Review".

"If you're really grateful, you'll swear not to snore the entire tour. I need my beauty sleep."

"Don't change the subject. I'm trying to be vulnerable here."

There was a long pause before they both busted out laughing. Dabi sat back in his chair and took a deep breath. "We should go out and celebrate. My treat."

"Not gonna pass that up. Want me to invite the others?"

"We can plan something with them after we sign the contract. Tonight, we'll go haunt that little bar where we played our very first gig."

"You don't mean..."

"That's the one."

"No wonder you offered to pay."

The place was a small, hole-in-the-wall, dive bar where they'd played some gigs when they were still pretty young - too young to be in a bar - but the owner overlooked that little detail and paid them under the table. It was just the two of them in those days, but the money they made helped to pay for new equipment as their band and their popularity grew.

"You can pay then."

"Hey now, slow down. You were kind enough to offer, and it'd be rude of me to refuse. I'll let you pay."

"Sounds like a plan. You can pay when we take the rest of the band and Compress out to celebrate."

Dabi pictured the shift in Keigo's expression as he realized what just happened.

"Now wait -"

"Don't get your panties in a bunch, Birdie." Dabi interrupted, chuckling. "It was a joke. I'm gonna jump in the shower then hop on my bike and ride ovrr. Meet me there in an hour."

ZINE INTEREST CHECK

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

“But I recall every physical detail of the scene. The daffodils out, the new grass sprouting, a jet taking off from Heathrow, heading west, unusually low, its engines making my chest vibrate.” I’m no Harry expert but this does not sound like him or how he’d speak. To me, this has his wife’s writing style all over it. It’s like she’s writing about something she heard from Harry, doesn’t have all the details, and filled in with her overwrought style. I don’t think Harry is deep enough to take in his surrounding this way and she likes to think she is deeper than the puddle she actually is.

Ask from July 8th

I kinda agree - I agree that this definitely isn't Harry but I disagree that it's Meghan. I think it's Moehringer at work here, because it's too writerly.

Meghan's style is more word salady and she likes long abstractly-descriptive compound sentences, so I'd expect her to handiwork to wax poetic more on springtime than the direction and effect of an airplane.

Moehringer is also descriptive, but he uses short phrases and metaphors. It's not as eye-rolly as Meghan's descriptions, which is the best way I can describe it (but yes, I can and do fully admit to being biased against Meghan because, well, she's Meghan).

Anyway, you can decide for yourself.

Here's an example of Meghan's writing, from her Thanksgiving 2020 op-ed:

Hours later, I lay in a hospital bed, holding my husband’s hand. I felt the clamminess of his palm and kissed his knuckles, wet from both our tears. Staring at the cold white walls, my eyes glazed over. I tried to imagine how we’d heal...Sitting in a hospital bed, watching my husband’s heart break as he tried to hold the shattered pieces of mine, I realized that the only way to begin to heal is to first ask, “Are you OK?”

Here's a sample of Moehringer's writing, from his Pulitzer Prize-winning article, Crossing Over:

White folks say a ferry would bring the modern world at last to this rural wilderness 60 miles southwest of Montgomery, where the heat-crazed insects sound like a million clocks ticking; where only two businesses exist, a post office the size of a phone booth and a general store with nothing on its shelves; where the night sky is unbroken by a single street lamp or stop light, and Orion feels close enough to gather in your fist, like a cluster of fireflies. Mary Lee knows better. A ferry would also bring tourists and hunters and developers and criminals and snoops. In other words, the end of Gee's Bend, the last place on Earth still safe enough for children and dead folks to go walking after dark. 'When you can sit in a place,' she says, 'and everybody be lovely--no fussing, no killing. To me, this don't even seem like the USA.'

[meyousing]

ᴄʜʀᴏʟʟᴏ, ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘ

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: as chrollo reads you to sleep, his attentiveness to your needs has you reconsidering how you feel about him after all he's done to wrong you.

ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: chrollo x reader, sfw, implied yandere, mentions of past kidnapping, implied manipulation. not super proof read, i felt like writing something short n sweet for chrollo :V

Delicate fingers were tangled, stilled through your hair, the sound of a calm heart beating beneath your ear pressured you to relax further into the embrace that you were trapped–or rather, delicately held in. This was always how your repetitious days ended; forced back into the arms of your captor for “bed time,” forced to drift off against him until the next dull morning. You’d wake up when he did, be forced to stay in this god-forsaken bedroom all day long with nothing but a small bookshelf and its limited selection, along with an (annoyingly) comfortable bed to rest in as you read. On your first day here, before leaving for his work he assured you that this wouldn’t be where you were to stay forever, just for the time being until his current mission was over, then onto the next location, and so on. Indefinitely. That did nothing to ease the current-you and your worried thoughts about the future with this criminal, but it wasn’t like that was his intention anyway. 

You had already read each book on the shelf, coming up on your second re-reads as the duration of your stay here felt never ending. He told you that he would get some more books for you when he could, maybe a typewriter too so you could pass the time making your own material to read. The clock on the wall was broken, so you were never sure of the time, it had been awhile since he said that he would replace that for you as well. You could only rely on where the sun shone in the sky to try and predict when your captor would come back to you from his job–which you weren’t interested in knowing the details of, no matter how many times he would ask “do you want to hear about my day?”

You did not want to hear about his day. In fact, you wanted nothing to do with him, too upset by his delusion and thinking that this was “what was best for you” and how he “knew better.” The remembrance of these words leaving him so assuredly made you scoff as you recalled the scene of it; him gripping you so tightly as he spoke, eyes intense and never leaving yours until he was pleased with your enforced complacency. Your scoff had slipped out audibly as this segment played over again for the nth time behind your shut eyes. You winced, hoping that you hadn’t woken him up. You weren’t sure if he was a light or heavy sleeper, this had never happened before. You were typically rigid and silent in his grasp, unmoving so as to not crack, to not let him see you calm in his grasp since he didn’t deserve to.

You waited, holding your breath as if that scoff meant that every sound from here on was forbidden, lest you wake Chrollo up and have him scold you for not being asleep (he never really scolded you though. He would just look disappointed in you and try to reach a resolution of whatever kind he saw fit). You would usually force yourself to stay awake for as long as you possibly could as a show of some kind of rebellion, yet the culmination of your weariness from such a dreary day combined with the gentle warmth coming from Chrollo’s body always had you falling asleep sooner than you’d like. Right now, you knew you could stay awake for longer, but not if Chrollo woke up too.

Nothing happened, not right away at least. You exhaled quietly, lungs relieved, though they hitched when the fingers in your hair unexpectedly moved to stroke through it, detangling a strand and reaching back to your roots to continue the process. 

“Having trouble falling asleep?” his voice was raspy with fatigue yet still so smooth as he questioned you. You felt his chin press against the top of your head, the hand that wasn’t entwined within your hair squeezing your waist impossibly closer to him. What you wanted to say was that you were having trouble relaxing, since being caged into your kidnapper’s clutches every night wasn’t exactly the most alleviating scenario to fall asleep to.

You learned quickly that retorting his inquiries was always going to be unsuccessful. Any smidge of a snark in your tone only ever had him smiling, voice condescending as he said that he would give you some space to cool off before allowing you to answer him properly this time. You knew there was some kind of dark implication behind his words, but thankfully you’d smarten up by that point to ever find out what he could have truly meant. 

You wanted to nod but your current position made that difficult, so you begrudgingly whispered a “yes” as a lie, absolutely not revealing the real reason why you made a sound of upset. He stroked your hair for a bit longer before relenting his hold on you, moving aside and allowing you to fall gently back onto the mattress and sitting up himself. You peeked an eye open to watch as he flipped the bedside lamp on which made you squint. He fiddled around within the little drawer of the end table before turning to you with a book in his hand. He opened his arm to you then, leaning back into the pillows.

“Come, let me read you to sleep.” 

You blinked before you acted. You didn’t want to interact with him at night, since night time brought fatigue, which also brought vulnerability. Though when you were still for too long Chrollo’s head began to tilt curiously. Your movements were slow with hesitance as you pulled yourself against him, hoping he mistook your reluctance as sluggishness instead, when realistically you wanted to take this opportunity to slip out of bed and run for the door–despite knowing that it was locked. He didn’t question your pace though, only wrapping his arm around your back securely once you were nestled against him, holding the other side of the book then. He cleared his throat with elegance, reciting the text before him, his voice buttery as each word melted off of his tongue and reverberated through his chest; against your warm cheek. 

You wanted so badly to be disgusted by him for what he had done to you–to hate him–yet when his tone was beguiling as it was, his body so warm and his touch so tender, you just couldn’t. This man kidnapped you; became the dictator of your freewill, yet he still made sure you had an annoyingly cozy bed to rest in. He made sure you had books to read, even if the selection had remained the same for much too long. He brought your favourite clothes along when he had taken you, even taking other personal belongings of yours in remembrance of how you’d expressed your love for them in the past (even though now you kept them shoved away in your closet, you couldn’t look at them just yet without being reminded of your old life and becoming sentimental to the point of tears). 

He was undeniably attentive, always reassuring you that he would replace anything that you were unhappy with in spite of the delays. He actually did bring you a shining, brand new wrist watch one day when you mentioned the broken clock on the wall, but he turned severely apologetic when he realized that he had forgotten to grab batteries for it on his way home–his tasks that day were much too frantic and restrained for him to find the time. 

Perhaps all of this could have been a lie; could have been a way to earn your complacency instead of forcing it, making promises to tend to every complaint you had (except for your freedom) in due time as a ploy to get you to believe and rely on him for it. Yet now, as your muscles softened into jelly and your eyes became too heavy to follow along with his place on the book’s page, you couldn’t help but finally relax in his hold and let woes of those potential misleading matters dissolve away. If Chrollo was only acting with you, you couldn’t care less right now.

 Your breathing slowed, the last thing you felt being Chrollo’s gentle lips against your forehead, before finally succumbing to the darkness behind your eyes. One thing in this new life of yours was for certain; it was a nice change to be treated chivalrously for once.

© meyousing 2023. do not share/export my work on to any other platforms. do not translate my work.