#anyways this is going on the microwave with all my other magnets! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nancypullen · 3 years ago

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Drip Drip Drip

That’s not a nod to the rainy weather today (I’m actually enjoying that). It’s how I feel about the process of putting this house together. I have to remind myself that we’ve only been here for eighteen days. It took us over twenty years to get the Tennessee house the way we liked it. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and blah, blah, blah. The truth is that I just want to decorate and turn this place into a home and I can’t. Still waiting for floors, appliances are arriving one at a time, first came the frig...

those magnets are a sign that there’s been a princess in the house. The stove arrived yesterday. Looks weird sitting beside the old dishwasher and microwave.

Nothing fancy - I like a smooth top with plenty of oven space. There’s an app I can download and I can control this oven from my phone. The odds of me being struck by lightning are greater than the chance of me using my phone to turn the oven on. Anyway, I think the dishwasher is due by the end of the week. Were taking that microwave out and installing a range hood. As a shrimpy girl I’m not a fan of microwaves over the stovetop. Give me a small countertop model and I’m happy. We really only use it for popcorn. Soooo, no floors, no paint, no furniture. Still eating beans around a fire in a barrel. Okay, it’s not that bad - but as a professional nester I’m feeling very unsettled. I’ve made homes for us from the tip of Florida to a village on the Arctic Ocean, and it feels like this time it’s taking forever. Because I couldn’t sit in that camp chair one more night, I found a very ugly and very cheap dining room set on Facebook Marketplace. For $20 the seller agreed to deliver it and it showed up right after Tyler, Jamie, and the grandgirl arrived on Saturday. Perfect, they helped unload! They spent the day with us and we actually had a place to sit while we ate dinner that evening. We paid $100 for a table and 6 chairs. It’s definitely not what I wanted for this space, I may chalk paint it and foof it up a little - but for now it serves a purpose.

I can’t believe I’m posting such ugly photos here. But now we’ll have some “before” pics when this place is finally pretty. Speaking of pretty, my sweet grandgirl arrived on Saturday in full Cinderella regalia and delivered a bouquet she’d picked.

When she got out of the car, her ballgown sparkling in the sun, and stretched out her little hands holding those flowers...well, I’ll sit on the floor until I’m 80 for moments like that. We had the best day. Yesterday, because I can’t do much inside the house, I tackled the flower beds. I use the term flower beds loosely, there was nothing but monkey grass and weeds. I left some of the monkey grass as a border on one side, but everything else was ripped out. I popped in a few plants, but it all looks a bit pitiful right now. I wanted to put some sort of evergreen shrub along the front porch, preferably yew of another soft plant. BUT, I ran up to Walmart for a couple of items and thought I’d peek at their garden center while I was there. They had some really healthy Japanese Holly shrubs for $22 each. I was poking around wondering if I should get three or four when the nice garden guy said, “Those are going on clearance tomorrow, but I can mark them down for you today if you need them.” I asked what the clearance price would be, he responded “Twelve dollars”, and I said that yes indeed I did need them. So I picked out three for what I probably would have paid for one at a nursery. Hooray!

They’ll look dinky when I get them in, but I’m building this garden from scratch and it takes time. Like I said the other day, I can probably relax and enjoy it all after three summers. Maybe ten.

Another spot that give me heartburn is the back yard. Jamie spotted poison ivy in the treeline, so I don’t go anywhere near it. I blow up like a puffer fish if I see a picture of poison ivy, so I’m extra careful. She brought some stuff that they use to kill poison ivy at work, if it’s good enough for the Smithsonian, it’s good enough for me. As an organic gardener I’m choosing to look the other way while a nuclear bomb is dropped on the treeline. The bad stuff has to be eradicated to enjoy the yard. Necessary evil. The previous homeowners also fancied a campfire. We all love a crackling fire in the fall, right? But they marked off an area by filling it with rocks. They never bothered to put anything down to prevent weeds from growing through those rocks, so we’re back to that hobo campfire again. Now I have to rake up all of these little rocks and we’re hoping we can seed the yard before it gets too hot up here. It’s mostly weeds right now and it’s just plain ugly.

We wanted less yard to mow and care for, but we’d still like it to be pretty. See our neighbor’s perfect yard? I’m so jealous. They’re probably hoping we work a miracle so they don’t have to look at this mess anymore. I told Mickey that I’d like to put a fence or barrier of some sort at the treeline. Then I’ll dig a bed along the front and throw down some mulch, maybe put in a couple of flowering shrubs - roses or azaleas. Add a bird bath or a bird feeder and it’ll look like a different place. I snapped a photo from the patio and then added what I want.

See? Same place, totally different feeling. I need that tidiness. It’s a lot less creepy. It’s almost noon here, nearly time to feed the mister. I’ve wiped down the bathrooms, cleaned all of the mirrors, did a load of laundry, and there’s nothing else for me to do. I’ll feed Mickey at noon, then I’ll feed him again at six. The grass /weeds need cutting but it’s too wet. I may turn this afternoon into a mini spa day. My nails need attention, my hair and skin need some love, and it might feel good to take care of myself today. Maybe I’ll put on a face mask and watch a murder show while I paint my nails. Everyone deserves a day off now and then, right? Oh! That reminds me that I wanted to share a product that I’m very pleased with - and it’s not expensive!

Pardon the wear and tear on my box, but I keep the bottle in it because I read somewhere a million years ago that you should protect vitamin c serums from light to preserve potency. If that were true, I’m guessing the maker would have put this in a tinted bottle, so I’m probably being overly cautious. Go ahead and throw your box away, throw caution to the wind! Anyyywayyyy, this stuff has been MAGIC for my skin.

Vitamin C & E in a serum? Yes, please! I use this every morning after washing my face, one dropper does the trick. I’ve used it regularly for about two months and I’ve seen a wonderful difference in my skin. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I still look like a 58 year old grandma - but there’s definitely a vibrancy and a glow that was lacking two months ago. If it worked this well on my face while I was stressed, moving, not eating as well as I should, and tired ( my back still hurts!) then imagine what it can do under normal circumstances. You know that I don’t advocate for any product that A) didn’t work for me and B) isn’t worth the money. This is not a paid promotion or anything like that, just a serum that I really, really like. I use this in the morning, and Kiehl’s Micro-Dose Anti-Aging Retinol Serum with Ceramides and Peptide (that’s a mouthful) at night. I love that it soaks right in, no greasy or tacky feeling at all. It won’t stop time from marching across my face, but at least I can glow as I age. Give it a try, get your glow on! Okay, this rambling post needs to stop. I hear rumbling upstairs that must mean someone is ready for lunch. Looks like the sun is trying to make an appearance so maybe I’ll get to poke around in the garden a bit. Or maybe I’ll just stay in and paint my nails. Whatever you’re doing today, I hope it’s making you happy. Or at least not making you unhappy. Stay safe, stay well. XOXO - Nancy

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szynkaaa · 4 years ago

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I more or less watched The Boy!!! And by watching, I mean I skipped more or less through the jump scare parts because I cannot do horror movies at all. I haven’t watched one since 2015 and The Boy was like the first horror movie after five years

Full disclosure, the ONLY reason I started watching the movie was because someone posted a gif of Greta standing close to Brahms who was all sweaty and breathing heavily n I was like “oh shit who dat he hot” and here I am

Can anyone explain the sandwich scene to me? So Greta was scared shitless and locked herself in her room, but why did Brahms make her favorite sandwich for her?

I did some digging for interviews and generally what people have been saying about the movie, took some screenshots from youtube to put my thoughts and musing together too!

Can anyone explain the sandwich scene to me? So Greta was scared shitless and locked herself in her room, but why did Brahms make her favorite sandwich for her?

So first of all, let’s start with a low resolution photo I found on IG of James Russell without mask:

which brings me to my first musing/thought/question?

It’s all under the cut, very screenshot and text heavy, you can find more Brahms drawing at the bottom though ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

So at the end of the movie, we are shown a Brahms with a broken mask and his face being burned, indicating that he was in fact in the fire.

I assumed first that the fire was created by the parents to fake their sons death and then he had to live hidden inside the walls?

But I’ve also heard apparently it was Brahms who set the fire to fake his own death or maybe an eight years old kid really was trying to burn himself down??

My other theory is that his parents made the fire and tried to kill Brahms and it did burn him but he survived, and the parents didn’t wanna go to jail sooo to hide everything they made their son live in the walls

i mean the responsible thing would be to turn their kid in and have him treated and stuff;;; listened to a murder podcast about two cases where kids murdered enough kids and how they are doing now interesting read Brahms made me think of those two cases

I also do not think that the previous nannies were killed. Like, c’mon. You’d report a person missing and sooner or later it would go back to the Heelshire mansion and if the body counts piles up? Can’t look good and I doubt that the Heelshire wants the police investigating them close up.

Also, when the mom was like “He’s chosen you if you’ll have him” to Greta? Is it just me or the wording or does it sound like a marriage proposal/arrangement xD

Brahms is a brat and he sees the people around him as his possession or to toy around. But I also do think that he has some abandonment issues but not in the sad tragic kind of way lmao. Even if he was the one controlling and manipulating his parents from behind-the-scene (quite literally I suppose?), he was still told as a kid to live in hiding and that no one can know he is alive. I don’t know much about the human brain, but I can imagine how damaging that must be to his mental growth and set him back in some way? We don’t know too much about his relationship with his parents - but I assume that he must have still loved them in his own twisted way. Can’t imagine that he would have been indifferent about his parents suicide.

The scene before Greta manages to back out - first he uses the child voice to beg her to come back and promises he will be good. That’s his manipulating Greta, but when that doesn’t work and she tries harder to open the door, he becomes more desperate to keep her there and then completely loses his temper and threatens to kill Malcolm if she doesn’t return. I’m pretty sure homeboy would have killed him anyway. And then later when she returns and he is all heavy breathing and smelling her hair and then jumps up when she shouts Brahms? Idk I def think there is some sort of abandonment issue going on.

I don’t think he is a child stuck in a man’s body or manchild or whatever. I think that he does know how to take care of himself - but he just chooses to manipulate people with the facade of a kid to do his bidding and cater to his needs.

Anywhomst, but clearly Brahms is also a very manipulative and controlling person based, based on how the mother was reacting on the destroyed bedroom, she really seemed to be at the end of her wits and just breaking down with her “you promised you’d be good”. It was very heartbreaking to watch and also scary because it really makes you realize just how much power Brahms holds over them?? idk maybe it was just me.

Next point: the CGI mask + the burns

So according to some interviews with the director stated that at the first test streaming, people weren’t really scared of Brahms because he was too handsome so they had to slap a mask over his face. The face was done after everything was filmed. I’m thinking the face burns were also added post-production when they were adding the cgi mask. Otherwise, James would have needed to go through the makeup department for some wicked face burns and it would have been visible during the filming and test screening too? Which would imply that at first the fire was supposed to be just a cover story that their son is dead and it was changed later

Observation/thoughts on Brahms Heelshire

Love how he stands there with his hands behind his back and then nods when Greta tells him to go under the cover

James Russell is 191cm tall. So like. Brahms is really fucking tall. But I notice that most of the time he stands with a slight hunch. Could be due to him crawling through the walls and crawling out of places that requires him to do a lot of crouching. His bed in his hideout made me really sad, I’ll get to it later.

Since James didn’t get many lines in the ten minutes that he appeared, I do think that his eyes did all the acting. They stand out even more with the mask on, there is just this crazy look on it. I also noticed during my rewatch that he doesn’t seem to blink much or at all.

Oh yeah, he also peeped on Greta and Malcolm making out on the bed and then cockblocked them. We been knowing that he made a Greta doll and very likely jerked off to it. We also been knowing that he very very very likely wanted to bone Greta at the goodnight kiss scene still waiting for the maskeless kiss scene gimme gimme. I also highly doubt that Brahms has much first-hand experience with kissing n stuff. High key thinking he was trying to do copy Malcolm and do what he observed lmao

When I first watched the scene, I assumed that the hole behind the mirror has always been and it’s just another one of the hidden passages Brahms to slip in and out, but now that I’m looking at the shape of the holes, it seems to me more like the mirror and brick wall were broken at the same time?? If that is the case holy shit boy is s t r o n g. I mean, he also punched through the closet door like no big deal so really what have the parents been feeding him.

I’m also leaning toward the fact that he ran there because Greta screamed loudly. I don’t think he was in the room as them when everything went down there, it seemed more like he heard the scream and had to nyoomed over and then punched a way through to get out of the wall. And then went on to attack Cole. He must have known that Greta wanted Cole gone, since that what she whispered to the doll before going to bed.

Tbh, I fully expected him to murder Cole in his sleep, but Brahms wrote a warning message in blood to tell him to get out soooooo like. Cole you were warned and now you gotta live with the consequences ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Brahm’s sleeping corner

This scene was shown at the end after Greta and Malcolm escaped. We also see them briefly during the part where Greta and Malcolm are trying to find a way out and stumbled into Brahms’ hideout. I’m not sure why the rules are slapped on the walls. It seems to me that Brahms is very very very set on that the rules / routine should be followed. In the movie, he called Greta and suggested to her that she should follow the rules, to which she then started doing it.

I headcanon that that’s the routine that he grew up with as a kid and it’s just very very very very very hard to break out of it - not that he is trying to break the routine.

I’m failing to find a good way to put my thoughts into words, but I guess the rules and routine is sort of his coping mechanism?

I suppose if you had an OC that you ship Brahms with and want to change stuff around the house, the OC would have to very slowly introduce new rules and routines. Baby steps, yknow.

Brahms has a violin hanging there! Honestly I would be surprised if Brahms didn’t know how to play at least one instrument. The family also has an old ass piano/clavichord (?) and Brahms loves classical music soo yeah. Love me a boy who appreciates classical musical hehe

I suppose the egg boxes are there to soundproof the room more - maybe so he can play the violin?

There’s also music sheets hung around his attics, it’s not clear on the screenshots but when you rewatch the scene and shove your face close to the screen. Some are hanging next to the violin and there are some taped on the wall next to his bed and porn too

nice to see he has a fridge and microwave, I was concerned that he wasn’t well fed and that leftovers might not be enough, but then again. Dude is 191 cm so clearly he has been drinking his milk

Didn’t take a screenshot of his vanity, but there is a crocodile magnet stuck to the mirror hehe. I do think that he shaves and stuff, otherwise his beard would be much longer??

We can see more music sheets stuck to a pillar on the right.

Loving the christmas lights that he has hanging there above his bed. It’s cute.

On the shelf he has a bunch of tupperware and empty bowls. Most of hte things are neatly organized. We can also see some books and a pen

There’s some sunlight streaming inside - I do hope that Brahmsy stays warm during winters.

Here we can see more of the food that he has there - there is also a sink but I didn’t snatch a screenshot of it. I think those are potatoes in the pot? Maybe he does know how to cook some basic stuff, I do wonder if he has a functioning kitchen up there. Probably not for fire safety reasons lol

Yall see that thing on the note sheet covered pillar? Ngl, that’s a whole ass aesthetic right there.

He got a few potted plants up there. Took a closer look at them and it seems like they were healthy. So he knows how to take care of plants, which is nice to know I suppose?

Yes, we all know what he was doing with the doll and what the tissue balled up tissue implies. However, has anyone noticed the size of the bed???

If you scroll up a bit to the screenshot of Greta seeing the doll, it looks t i n y. The make shift doll takes up more than half of the space.

Yall. this breaks my heart. Dude is a beanstalk. I’m pretty sure the bed is from when he was a kid shoved by his parents to live inside the wall, does he have to sleep there in his adulthood too???

Even though Brahms strikes me as someone who probably doesn’t sleep much or during normal times, that bed must be so tiny for him. He must be sleeping with his knees bend and shit unable to stretch out :(((

Brahms: is a psychopath that smashed the skull of a girl and very abusive tormented his parents and then Greta Me: omg he needs a bigger bed that poor thing :(((

Brahms’ DIY corner

Ah yes, Brahm’s little DIY/creative corner.

Homeboy got lot of animal traps, cages and taxidermies hanging around, pointing strongly toward that it’s a hobby of it?

Also at the end where we see him fixing up the doll, we can get a better shot at his desk, and I gotta say the threads and stuff are all very nicely organized. Brahms’s table looks more organized than mine does lmao.

So we know he is a crafty boy. Not sure how difficult taxidermy is but I imagine it does take a lot of time to learn? Well he had all the time in the world anyway.

So yeah, that’s a wrap. Congrats if you made it to the bottom of my incoherent thoughts and ramblings, have a bonus drawing of Brahms wearing different masks:

#the ham talks #brahms heelshire #the boy #the boy 2016 #brahms #brahmbling

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thefanficmonster · 3 years ago

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Hey Vy! 📚🌻 Here!

How is your week going? My roller skates just got here and I'm so happy omg! My protective gear haven't got here yet so I'm trying not to fall but a almost hit my face so many times- i have to stop for some time now because I need to clean my room :_: but here's your three words of this week: Paradise, curly, radio

A lot a lot looot of loveee,

📚🌻.

Hi darling 📚🌻 !

Please be extra careful until your protective gear arrives, I'd hate to hear you've injured yourself 🥺 Anyways, hope you have fun with your roller skates (always stay safe though)! 🥰

Here comes a short drabble with your three words! This one’s gonna be a little different though - no OCs and not for the Resident Evil fandom, but rather the How To Get Away With Murder fandom, more specifically - for my favorite relatioship/characters on the show! Hope you enjoy!

All my love, Vy ��

Better

Laurel Castillo x Frank Delfino (How To Get Away With Murder - AU: Canon Divergence; AU where the characters tolerate each other XD)

Warnings: Slight spoilers (Nothing too major though), Swearing

Laurel runs a hand through Chris’ curly hair, admiring how peaceful he looks now that he’s finally asleep. He’s got a fever that’s been giving him crying fits for two days now. Having to deal with a sick two-year-old while simultaneously trying to keep up with work and her final studies has been exhausting to no end. She’s been receiving some help from Michaela who seems utterly desperate to keep herself busy at all times, even when she’s supposed to be relaxing just so her mind doesn’t spiral into the void of loneliness she’s fallen victim to as of recent. Connor and Ollie have babysat for her a few times as well, another gesture she’s incredibly grateful for. Asher has offered to look after the toddler too on numerous occasions but that’s one offer Laurel’s never taken up. She appreciates him offering her his help, but everyone would justify this action of hers considering how reckless Asher can be at times - aka 90% of the time.

The Keating 5 has come through for her when it comes to both looking after Chris and keeping up with her studies, proving their friendship to be one of those rare ones. However, Keating 5 aside, she’s received the most amount of help from one particular person. Someone who’s prepared to turn up at her doorstep at three in the morning if she needs him.

Frank Delfino

The two had a rocky start, to say the least. Their on-again-off-again relationship as colleagues with benefits. Their constant back and fourth. Then came Frank’s disappearance and Laurel’s involvement with Wes, all occurrences blowing huge holes not only in their romantic relationship but also their friendship which has always been a second away from ceasing to exist, all things considered. Friendship is hard to maintain with such a strong, hypnotic and magnetic romantic connection. Some people just weren’t meant to be friends, ever. Frank and Laurel are among them.

Speaking of Frank, the man’s been rather concerned lately, the lack of calls and messages from Laurel worrying him more with each passing day. He overheard Michaela mention Chris’ fever in passing conversation with Asher when she was bailing on a date with the excuse of helping Laurel look after the sick toddler. He’d been surprised to hear that, initially thinking it was a cheap excuse of Michaela’s to avoid spending time with Asher considering things between them have grown sort of complicated. But when Connor confirmed this claim of hers, Frank couldn’t help but grow very concerned. He’s grown used to knowing what’s going on with Chris and Laurel before everyone else so having someone else be in the know while he was kept in the dark made him feel oddly jealous and hurt.

And he could only hold his worries and assumptions at bay so long...

Responding to the knock at the door, knowing who it probably is at this hour, Laurel contemplates whether opening the door would be the right thing to do. She’s double-checked that it is indeed him, that bringing her more uncertainty than comfort, oddly enough. She’s been doing her best to distance herself from him and his life for quite a while now. She’s been meaning to give him an opportunity at a normal life, away from her mess and chaos. She’s been wanting to give him an escape from the fiasco she always finds herself dragging him into.

But he still comes back to her, by his own choice.

“Laurel, it’s me.“ His coarse voice reaches her from the other side of the door.

“Yeah...“ She trails off, forcing her hand up to turn the lock, “...I know.“

Opening the door reveals the concern on his face a lot better than she saw through the peephole. It makes her heart swell up and all she wants to do is throw her arms around him in a tight embrace. But she can’t do that, she won’t. She’s not willing to give him any reason to hold onto her whatsoever. In her eyes, he deserves a lot better. And maybe he does, but he doesn’t want anything or anyone better.

“Hey...“ he mutters, unsure of how to start of the interaction. Things have never been easy between them and, looking back, it seems like they’ve only gotten harder. Somehow, their connection has only grown stronger though. A connection he wants to uphold and a connection she wants to sever.

“Hey...What are you doing here so late?“ Ok, that’s a sustainable question considering it’s 10PM, but then again he’s come to her apartment at odder hours. Only difference is, those other times, she called him over.

“Though I’d check on you. You’ve been rather dead with calls and texts recently. Also missed Chris, heard he had a fever so I got worried.“ She hears the undertone of accusation in his voice loud and clear. It makes her bite her lip with guilt she wishes she wasn’t feeling, especially when she’s supposed to be doing the right thing.

You can’t decide for him. If he wants to keep coming back, that’s on him.

That thought hasn’t crossed her mind yet. It almost feels like she’s letting herself off the hook, feeding into the temptation to embrace what her and Frank have.

“You hungry?“ Now that is a bit more out-of-place question, but it’s accompanied by her taking a step back to allow him inside, “I ordered Thai food I never got to finish.“

He follows the signal, growing a bit more hopeful now that she’s let him in the apartment, thinking maybe she isn’t avoiding him after all. “Loss of appetite?”

“Partly.“ She replies, hearing the click of Frank locking the front door before following her in the kitchen where the hanging lights are dimmed. “Chris was throwing a fuss all day, I couldn’t really do much but focus on him.“ She motions to the living room where the coffee table is littered with sheets of paper and highlighters, some of which have found a spot on the floor as well. “Not to mention the ton of crap I need to do for school and work.“

“Would’ve been a lot easier on you had you called me, you know?“ He comments, walking over to the fridge, taking out the two packs of Thai takeout, suggesting she had been expecting him. She wasn’t really, she was just quietly hoping he’d show up at her doorstep.

“Didn’t wanna bother you. It’s nothing serious, a simple cold, I can handle it.“ She replies, approaching the small vintage radio in the corner of the kitchen counter, turning it on to a quiet volume so some tunes could fill the silences that are bound to occur frequently with the amount of tension between them.

“You could never bother me, Laurel. I’ve told you countless times before...“ putting the food he’s now moved onto a large plate into the microwave and turning the machine on, he turns to look at her, “I love Chris like he’s my son. In my eyes, he is my son and I love him with all my heart. Just like I love you.“

Instead of allowing the deafening quiet to take over them again - the soft music from the radio aside - Laurel lets the loudness of her mind surface. She lets it seep through the barriers she built in order to protect herself and protect everyone around her from herself: “Do you never stop to think you deserve better, Frank? Better than some grown-ass woman with her life in shambles and a kid whose father’s dead. Do you not think you deserve someone who knows what they want and where they’re headed with their life? Someone who...” her confidence is slowly leaving her to fend for herself and so she does, the best she can. “Someone who can cook and do their projects and work and take care of her son simultaneously. Someone better, Frank! Do you never want someone better?”

She hadn’t realized her eyes had been darting all over the place, looking everywhere but at him. How that her gaze has once again landed on his face, she feels her stomach turn at what she sees. That concerned, hurt and disappointed frown only further fuels her guilt, making her wish she’d never opened the door in the first place.

“Laurel, where’s this all coming from? Did Bonnie say something to you cause if she did...“ she cuts him off.

“No, she didn’t. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now actually. All I am to you is trouble and a burden and...“ he gets back at her, cutting her off himself.

“And you’re none of those things, Laurel. Your view of yourself is interfering with your perception of this, of us, of what we have. You and Chris are my family. The family I choose. It’s not about deserve or idealism - it’s about what brings you joy and makes you feel complete. What and who makes you feel at home. Who is your home.“ Always cautious of her personal space, Frank takes a hesitant step towards her and another when she doesn’t back away. “Lord knows it’s no paradise, but what we have is special, Laurel, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything in this world.“

Against her best attempts at keeping her emotions at bay, Laurel feels her eyes brimming with tears as she gazes up at the man she’s never been in the clear with. She never realizes what he means to her until it’s too late. She only realized she loved him when he disappeared. She only realized he meant the world to her when he had already slipped from her grip. And she refuses to continue that pattern.

Instead, she’ll work on finding out what they are exactly and even if she doesn’t reach that epiphany, she’ll still embrace it, no matter the oddity and unfamiliarity of it all.

“Thank you.“ she manages to whisper past the knot in her throat.

“Don’t thank me, you should never thank me for the things I do for you or Chris. I choose to do them. I choose to be here. I choose you because I want you. You and no one else, Laurel.“

Just then, the microwave beeps, alerting the two that their close-to-midnight meal is warmed up. Taking the plate out and placing it on the counter to cool down a little, he turns to her with a small smile on his face, “Let’s see what’s so troubling about that project of yours, shall we?”

And just like that, the tension has lifted, allowing for a smile to appear on her face as well. That ease of the mind is not something she’s been very used to throughout her life, constantly having shit to worry about and people to deal with. That’s why she’s never wanted to be a burden on someone’s back. She’s never wanted to be a major part in someone’s life, at least not until she gets her shit together.

And although she might never get her shit together, she’s got someone she loves and someone who loves her by her side. Lord knows he hasn’t been on top of his own shit either. At least they’ll be figuring it all out together.

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readyplayerhobi · 5 years ago

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Flower | 09

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, slight angst

; Word Count: 4.2k

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: A Christmas present for you all! This has been my favourite chapter of Flower so far so I hope you all enjoy it too! Please reblog if you enjoyed and let me know what you think in a comment or ask!

; Flower Masterpost

The knock on your front door causes you to pause, clothes in your hand as you put them into your washing machine. You’d been frantically cleaning for the last hour, tidying up your already clean apartment to make sure that it all looked good. When you’d run out of stuff to clean, you’d resorted to washing your clothes early.

Just for something to do while you waited.

But now he’s here. Hoseok is here. At your apartment, for the first time. You’d been to his a few times now but he’d never been to yours. That had been your fault because you simply just hadn’t invited him. It hadn’t entered your head to do that. Not until Chungha got exasperated and pointed out that perhaps he’d like to see where you lived too.

She must have been right because Hoseok had eagerly accepted and so here you were. You’d finished work an hour and a half ago, the time spent since waiting for him to finish and head home to grab his stuff before coming to yours had given you plenty of time to fulminate.

Not only was Hoseok coming over to yours for the first time...but he was going to spend the night. He’d come up with a plan to drive you both to an amusement park a few hours away tomorrow, but it required getting up pretty early. As a result, you’d just blurted out that he could stay with you.

You could tell that he’d been a little shocked at your proposition, not because you were suggesting he stay but because it was you who was suggesting it. He probably hadn’t expected you to propose that for a while yet.

Especially not when you had plans to let him sleep in bed with you too. You’d discussed it with Chungha and Soyeon in depth, wondering whether you should make him sleep out on the couch for the night. They’d been adamant that you couldn’t do that given you were dating, and you’d been together for two months so why not just let him sleep next to you?

If he remained as polite as he’d been, he wouldn’t be putting any moves on you.

The easy way you’d said yes to it and suggested it to him told you, and everyone else who knew you, that you really wanted him to stay over. To sleep next to you. Honestly, it had one of your fantasies. Alongside the sexual ones, sometimes you just thought about him holding you in bed, cuddling with him.

Tonight you were going to get to experience that.

Quickly putting the rest of your clothes into the machine, you pause for a moment as you wonder if it’s stupid of you to be washing your clothes. But you push the thought of the way as you add powder and detergent before turning it on. A final glance around your small apartment lets you see that everything is as clean as it’s going to get and you take in a deep breath, smoothing down your shirt.

Opening the door slowly, you smile at Hoseok as he stands there waiting, a backpack over his shoulder and a bright smile on his own face. “Hi...err...sorry, I was putting my washing on. For some reason. Err...come in.”

He laughs softly as he enters, toeing off his shoes and carefully placing them on the rack you have set up next to the door without even being asked to. Moving forward through the tiny hall, you gesture to the living room and attached kitchen with a nervous movement.

“Errm so...this is the living room, obviously. And the kitchen. The door you just passed is the bathroom and the other door is my bedroom. It’s not very big,” You feel yourself heat up in embarrassment as your hands twist together. “I mean...I can still barely afford it but it’s home at least.”

Hoseok looks around slowly, eyes darting everywhere as he takes in the decor of the place. You weren’t allowed to put things on the wall so the only decorations were on the bookcase in the corner, your television stand, your couch, the coffee table and the drawers next to the bookcase. Looking around, you take it in the same way he does.

A fluffy throw in slate grey is draped over the couch, covering both the back and the seat cushions while an array of interesting cushions and plushies cover it. Your Pusheen plush sits in pride of place but there’s also a bao bun with a smiley face, an overly cartoony calico cat stretched out along the back and a Jack Skellington face on the couch as well.

Other plushies dot the room as well, from the set of Pokémon on the bookcase which included all the Eeveelutions you’d carefully collected over the years and various Pokéball’s to random cute ones and even a Pac-Man. Amongst all of that, was other stuff you’d collected; a range of animal shaped hand creams, a bunch of tiny Harry Potter chibi snow globes, some Funko POP figures featuring Disney characters along with a Totoro clock.

Random lights were currently turned on around the room including the PlayStation logo light, the Mario Mushroom light and a Yoshi egg. Part of you cringed as you took in how...colourful and pretty everything was compared to Hoseok. It looked so...delicate next to him.

He was stood there in black ripped jeans with a Guns n Roses shirt on, his tattoos the only thing that matched the room really. And yet he didn’t look disgusted by it, instead he just looked fascinated. Moving forward, he looked over the various books, Blu-Ray’s and video games you’d collected over the years along with the tiny Totoro figures that almost made up a little set.

“Oh my god...this is literally you in a room.” He marvelled, eyes wide as he took in the light shade that covered the light bulb hanging in the room. It was simple, just a curved circle but it was navy blue with tiny circles cut into little rockets and planets. When you turned it on, which was rarely, it made the room light up with a space theme.

“Err...yeah...I’m sorry, I know it’s a lot.” You apologise, rubbing at your forearm as you feel the swirl of negative feelings within you start to bubble. Already you’re regretting letting him into your home, into your safe space. This was where you felt most comfortable, where you felt happy. You only let people in that you trusted, and after two months you were pretty sure you could.

But it was still overwhelming, letting someone into the very private part of you and letting them see what made you happy.

“Don’t apologise, this is great. You’ve seen my place, it’s barren compared to this. I like it. It’s nice. Feels...cosy.” Hoseok said with a bright grin, white teeth flashing as you glanced at you before looking into your kitchen with eager curiosity.

The cuteness extends into there too, sweet woodland themed animal print oven gloves draped over the oven handle while a whole array of cute magnets cover the fridge along with pictures and important notices. A Totoro egg timer sits next to a little polka dot flower pot on the window sill while a cat themed calendar is propped up on the microwave.

A soft meow combined with pressure on his lower legs causes Hoseok to jump slightly, looking down before he grins even bigger. “Oh hello there! You must be Kasumi! Your mommy has told me so much about you.” He croons in a high pitched voice, the kind people only use on babies or animals.

But you can see the delight in his eyes as she sits in front of him, her cream fluffy coat combining with her dark paws and ears alongside astonishingly azure eyes to make her look like the prettiest cat ever. You were pretty sure that she was a ragdoll cat, which meant it was even more shocking that you’d found her in a shelter as a kitten.

She observes Hoseok for a moment longer before meowing sweetly at him, pushing up to butt his hand with her head and he coos as he crouches down, stroking and talking absolute nonsense to her. You get the sense that he’s just fallen in love at first sight with your cat, the smile on his face bigger than anything you’d seen as she flops to the floor, belly presented and batting at his hand playfully.

“I’m gonna steal your cat.” He teases, looking up at you with playful eyes and you snort, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Over my dead body. She loves me anyway, right Kasumi?” At her name, her ears twitch and she looks at you upside down, letting out a soft mewl as her loud purrs reach you. You grin and crouch down, arms open as you make kissing noises to her and she immediately jumps up, rushing over to you. Standing back up with her in your arms, you smile smugly at Hoseok and wonder why on earth you’re suddenly competing with him over the affection of your own cat.

It looks like the thought runs through his head as well as he shakes it before walking over to you, dropping his backpack past you onto the couch before he places his hands on your waist. Leaning close, you feel your shoulders rising at his attention and he chuckles quietly.

“I guess I’ve got some competition then, huh?” He murmurs before kissing you, the gesture ever so gentle. It’s nothing intense, yet it fires you up in ways you’d never really considered before. Here, in your home, with your cat in your arms and your boyfriend kissing you, you feel happier than you can remember in recent memory. It feels...almost normal.

Hoseok pulls away quickly, smiling as he looks you up and down with a raised brow. “Can I go change if you’re in your pyjamas already?”

His tone is ever so slightly teasing and you look away, pressing your face into Kasumi’s soft fur to avoid the embarrassment.

“Yeah...sorry. I don’t...I don’t see the point in wasting clothes when I’m at home. Pyjamas or die you know?” He snorts in response, kissing your cheek before grabbing his backpack again.

“I get it, I’ll be back in a minute.”

It turns out that Hoseok’s pyjamas are just...his normal lounge clothes apparently. A pair of plain black sweatpants is combined with an overly large Star Wars shirt, a few holes in both items that cause you to raise a brow in amusement. A far cry from the matching set of pyjamas you’re wearing; a set of Marauder's Map leggings combined with a black shirt and a gold Hogwarts crest.

“You can tell our personalities just from what we’re wearing.” He looks up from his phone, brows raised before looking between you both with a lopsided smile. Without a word, he walks over to you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you to him tightly.

Body stiffening automatically without you even meaning, you force yourself to relax in his embrace. You still weren’t used to the open affection Hoseok lavished on you, the casual touches of his not normal enough for you to accept openly like you did with your friends and family. But you were getting there.

You just wished that you could extend the open affection to him in the same way. It was hard though, you weren’t naturally open to physical gestures like that. Normally you just accepted them, but you wanted to discover to be open with him.

Because as you melted into his arms, you realised that you really liked this.

“What are you trying to say, huh? That I’m ratty and old while you’re young and put together?” He teases, squeezing tightly while rocking you from side to side, putting just enough pressure that you have to stagger back as you giggle against his chest.

“No! I mean...you are older than me…”

“Excuse you! I’m only two years older than you! Hardly Hugh Hefner here.” Hoseok protests, his voice loud but you can hear the playfulness in it. It makes you happy to hear that, knowing that he’s going along with you.

“You’re right...you don’t have as much money as him. I’m missing out.” At that, he leans back enough for you to see his face, his jaw dropped while he tries to stop a smile from spreading. It causes you to grin in response, squeezing him tightly in response before you press your face back to his chest. “It’s okay though, you’re pretty.”

“Wow...okay. Does that make me the Playboy Bunny in this situation?” You snort, hands lowering without even meaning to and making him jerk in surprise as you squeeze his ass without even thinking. The very ass that your friends had teased you about weeks ago.

“How do you look with bunny ears and a tail?”

He moves away at that, eyeing you suspiciously as he bites his lower lip, the flesh disappearing between his teeth. “Let’s never find out, shall we?”

“Awww. There’s people who find that kinky. They get dressed up as animals and stuff. Sometimes it’s just...they just wanna dress up but sometimes they dress up and it’s like...they wanna have sex in those suits.” Hoseok just stares at you in disgust, looking away before nodding slowly.

“Sounds great. I’m never doing that. Just want you to know,” he pauses, looking up at the ceiling before cringing and shrugging. You’re suddenly reminded of that woman trying alcohol meme as he makes a considering face. “Okay maybe I’d try it once if you were into it but I don’t think it’s for me.”

You steadfastly avoid his face at that, body heating rapidly at the thought of him thinking about having sex with you knew he probably had. If you were thinking that way about him, then there was no one way someone like him wasn’t thinking that way too. And it was a very strange sensation to know that he wanted you like that.

So you just gestured to the couch, watching as he sits down and scoops Kasumi into his lap. A quick phone call gets you food ordered from your favourite Chinese place, Hoseok stating his preferences to you as he flicks through Netflix and strokes the fluff ball he’s holding.

The next few hours pass by in a food coma bliss of delicious food combined with both of you starting a show on Amazon instead called The Boys. It had surprised you both with how violent and gory it was yet you enjoyed it thoroughly, much to Hoseok’s amusement. Maybe he thought your love of cute things meant that you didn’t like that kind of stuff but you enjoyed it just as much.

You both made it through three episodes before you found yourself getting tired, it was nearing 11pm and as lame as it made you sound...you were someone who went to sleep a bit earlier than that. It amused Hoseok when your head started to loll onto his shoulder, the pleasant warmth and comfort of his body as you cuddled up together lulling you into drowsiness.

Which was why when the episode finally ended, he stood up and gently pulled you up as well. “Come on sleepy, I think it’s time for bed. Sometime’s tired.” He was using that voice that he’d used on Kasumi earlier, and part of you wanted to protest it but you were too drowsy to bother. So instead, you went around the room after shaking his hands off to turn off all the lights.

Hoseok went to the bathroom while you did that, telling you that he was just going to go to the toilet and brush his teeth. By the time you had finished cleaning everything up and throwing the empty Chinese cartons away, he was standing a little awkwardly outside your bedroom.

Smiling, you opened the door and let him in. “You can go in.”

He gave a little smile before heading in and pausing as he looked around once more. Your room was barely big enough for the double bed in it, one side pressed up against the wall while a bedside table rested next to it. A wardrobe was next to that and a chest of drawers along with a mirror.

“Err...sorry...it’s a little cramped.” You say quietly, rubbing your arms nervously once more and he just shakes his head at you with a small sigh that sounds more amused than you’d expected.

“You need to stop apologising for everything. It’s fine, honestly. Don’t stress yourself over it.” He heads over to the bed and looked down at it, teeth clanking against his lip ring as it looked down. “I’m gonna guess that you sleep on this side?”

Pointing at the side closest to the bedside table, you go to nod before realise he’s being rhetorical. It was blatantly obvious which side you slept on, given the other side was covered in a large array of plushies. From more Pokémon to a Star Wars teddy, Toothless from How To Train Your Dragon, a cute cat face, a fluffy llama and so much more.

The side Hoseok would be sleeping on was covered in them and you cover your face in dual embarrassment and horror, realising that you’d blatantly forgotten to clean it off for him. “Err...yeah. You can just...put them on the floor or something. Sorry, I mean…”

You cut yourself off from apologising again at his look but he just smiles and shrugs. “It’s okay, I’ll sort it out.”

Quickly, you leave the room to prevent any further embarrassment for you. Sometimes you really wondered why Hoseok stayed with you given how different you both obviously were. The thought made your chest hurt and you pressed as it, frowning as you did your own nightly routine. It took a little longer than Hoseok’s as you had a whole skincare routine to go through and so ten minutes later you walked back in with a face mask on.

He was lying on his back, pillows propped up behind him as he looked through his phone and you noted with amusement the little ice cream plush that was still situated next to him. In fact...he made the most bizarre image laid there.

Your bedding was white, with tiny rainbows ending in clouds interspersed with yellow stars and little cartoons unicorns and pegasus that jumped and frolicked. You liked your bedding to look as cute as everything else, only it looked childish with him in it now.

His tattoos look at complete odds with it all, dark hair pushed back and making him look even hotter than ever with it all messed up. He looked dark and brooding in your bed, anathema to your bedding and it was both adorable and bizarrely attractive.

A sudden thought rushes through your head that one day, if everything goes right, you’ll be having sex with him in that bed. Cheeks heating, you quickly rush forward and sit on the bed carefully, plugging your phone into the charger before looking back over at him.

“Do you need your phone charging too? I have another cable and plug.” You offer and he lets out a noise, head turning towards you before his eyes finally pull away. When he finally notices your face, he jerks away in shock before his face contorts and he squints at you.

“The fuck is on your face? Are you cosplaying Michael Myers or something?” Hoseok mutters, leaning forward a bit and looking you over. You try not to laugh, not wanting the face mask to move and you push at his face lightly.

“Don’t make me laugh, you’ll ruin it. It’s just a face mask, my night routine.” Laying back on the bed, he pulls a face at you.

“You do that every night? Isn’t it tiring?” You shake your head, checking in your Twitter feed as you wait for the time to pass until you can take it off again. “Is that why your skin always looks so pretty? Or is that makeup?”

“Hoseok! I haven’t worn makeup the last three times we’ve met up. You haven’t noticed between that and makeup?” He just stares at you for a moment before shrugging, his hand suddenly running along your back in slow and steady movements. It feels like electricity moves through your body as he does so, but you can’t tell any sexual intention behind it.

“I feel like no matter what I say here...I’m going to get myself in trouble. So...I will be smart and say that you look beautiful with and without makeup.” His smile is boylike then, making his entire face look far younger than he actually is and you sighed softly in defeat, shaking your head before checking the clock on your bedside table. “Why does your clock look like that?”

You pull off the face mask and throw it into the small trash can underneath the table, gently patting at your face to get the excess moisture to absorb. Glancing at the clock, you note it’s unusual shape and size while the orange numbers glow.

“It’s one of those clocks that simulate sunrise to help make it easier to wake up in the morning. I struggle with feeling tired and in winter I never want to get up. Err...I tend to get a little...or a lot...depressed with it. So I got this because daylight is meant to make you happier so ten minutes before my alarm goes off, it starts to light up and simulate a sunrise. It works pretty well in fairness.” You finish, rubbing your cheeks before grabbing the next step of your routine.

“Really? Huh. Cool.” He hands you his phone once you’ve finished, turning onto his side watching you intently. The attention makes you feel warm inside and finally you’re ready to go to bed, lifting the covers and cautiously sliding in next to him. It feels warm and comfortable as usual, your pillow and bedding maximised for comfort.

Reaching over, you turn off the lamp, leaving you both in darkness. The room feels oppressively silent at that moment before you realise that you can hear his breathing next to you. Suddenly, you feel hyper aware of his every movement and sound, your own body stiff beneath the covers.

A few minutes pass by like that, you unsure what to do now and too tense to sleep even after feeling so drowsy earlier. And then suddenly Hoseok reaches out, his hand resting on your stomach tentatively before stroking gently when you don’t react.

“You’re so tense.” He laughs softly and you feel the need to apologise again. But you hold it back, knowing that you have no reason to apologise. Hoseok knows by now what you’re like, he’s aware of your shy and awkward nature and he must know how out of your comfort zone you’re feeling right now.

Which is why you appreciate how slow he moves, his hand spreading heat through your stomach as his slow movements lead you to relaxing ever so slightly. He keeps doing it, his breathing just as hypnotising and you find your eyelids fluttering shut as the earlier drowsiness comes back.

“Can you turn over? On your side?” Hoseok asks softly, hand pausing and it takes a few seconds for you to acknowledge what he’d said. But you do so, shifting lazily until your back is facing him and your head is pressed comfortably into the pillow with your hand slotted beneath both pillows.

And then carefully shuffles up behind you, a warm and heavy weight sliding around your waist as he wraps an arm around you. Pulling slightly, he tugs you into a more comfortable position and you’re suddenly wide awake again. Even though you’ve been cuddled up with him before on a couch, it’s somehow completely different now that you’re lying together in bed.

Every bit of his front presses to your back and you’ve never been so aware of someone else. He feels like a furnace behind you, though you’re not sure if that’s because he actually is warm or if it’s because your body is burning hot. But you like it, as nervous as it makes you feel.

Your limbs feel like you could go outside and run a marathon yet the idea of leaving the bed is so far beyond you. His warm breath gently puffs against your neck as he settles a little more and you swallow hard, forcing your body to relax as you get used to the feeling. It’s been a long time since you’ve slept next to someone, and you’d never felt comfortable with them.

But you do with him. You do with Hoseok.

And without even realising it, your wandering mind begins to drift off as you lay there comfortably, feeling safe and content about everything.

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ratsoh-writes · 4 years ago

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Oh could I have a matchup? Please! I don't usually go anon, but so you may judge fairly I will... so mysterious XDDD

I'm green kindness soul, I'm shy and very very caring. I'm a li'l clumsy, a tad ditzy and complete space head, I'm in my imagination most of the time. I like jokes and puns and I laugh no matter how many times a good joke or cleaver pun is told, but I'm kinda bad at making/telling my own jokes. I love cuddles and laying in. I can be very lazy sometimes and I'm pretty messy too. I'm INFP if that means much to you.

Looks: long dark brown hair, brown eyes. I'm Short but chubby cuz I'm fun sized.

Strengths: I like learning new things. I'm good at staying calm. Despite being shy I find it easy to get along with anyone, I apparently have some kind of cute charm that makes people want to protect and look after me, or so I've been told. It's really hard to offend me, and I hardly ever get angry. I have a big heart, love is stored within the me, I love all my friends and fam and I'm ready to defend their honour at a moments notice.

Weakness: I'm dyslexic so reading and writing are a tad difficult but i like it anyway, I'm kinda forgetful, a little naive and a bit of a cluts. I get flustered very easily and have a weakness for being teased, and kinda have a thing for bad boys. I'm too quiet some times, and I'm not comfortable in crowds. I have a fragile heart and I can be overly emotional sometimes but don't show it.

Pet peeves: people leaving the milk out of the fridge, (if I wanted it warm I would have put it in the microwave) Pausing shows or movies. My music being interrupted. Being pushed out of my comfort zone, I'll crawl out at my own pace thank you.

Odd habits: I stim by making weird noises, I coo like a pigeon when I'm stressed or tired and sometimes I randomly make a purring like noise. I don't sit still. I space out often. I get very absorbed in movies and such and if it gets tense or scary I need to cuddle with the closest person.

Hobbies: Too many and counting XDD I like drawing, tinkering, Gaming, cooking, all sorts of arts and crafts, writing, reading stories aloud, dancing, coding, singing, etc. Etc. I pick up a new hobby like every other week or so.

No nos: um... idk I'm pretty chill but I don't like people who pretend to be something they're not and I don't like disloyalty.

I'm curious to see who you'll put me with ^_^

Oh you were easy! I’ll match you with OAK (horrortale sans)!

Well first of all, your kindness was a big factor in picking him. Plus you mentioned that you’d laugh at the same joke more than once. Sometimes oak repeats things due to his wonky memory. He needs a companion who’d be patient and gentle with him, and you sound like a wonderful fit!

If you want your cuddles, you’ll get your damn cuddles lol. Also your cute factor just add fuel to the fire. Oak is a very touch guy so expect a hand on you at all times

As for the bad boy bit: softie in the streets, monster in the sheets ;)

Dating oak would include:

That animal magnetism bro. You guys will wind up making lots of furry friends during walks, and that means friends with the owners. Most of ebotts dog walkers know who oak is lol

Grocery trips are a biweekly trip that you two do together. The horror brothers hate food waste and so while they have a stocked pantry of non-perishables, they only get small bits of fresh food to make sure they use all of it. Oak can’t go on his own so would love to take you as company

He’d be actually be completely in love if you read to him. Stories are so much easier to remember when it comes from your lips

Oak also likes giving out little treats all the time. Feeding people makes him feel secure, so you’ll be getting lots of random snacks/candies from him throughout the day

#undertale imagines #horrortale #matchups

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anandasamsara · 3 years ago

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Okay, i’m going crazy here thinking about this, i cant just dump that on my friends bc they all busy with their lives and jobs, and saturday is a long time coming so i cant scream it all out on therapy yet.

I found a house. It’s kinda shitty, very small, cheap-y and probably not that structurally sound. It’s also probably an illegal construction that someone exploited. It’s in a very poorly planned villa (or whatever it is called in english). But i fell in love with it and i need to move there. I fucking remade the whole thing on the sims so i could play-plan how i would decorate it.

It’s also near my best friend’s house, so thats a plus and a half for safety and comfort reasons.

It has an open plan kitchen/living room that is about 2x3m, maybe less. Probably less. It has only one room, but it looks okay-ish sized and IT HAS A MINI VERANDA, which you can see that i love more than anything else, with half a view of the street and full wall glass doors/windows set. Probs 2x2,5m counting the mini veranda. The bathroom is a literal square, maybe 1,5x1,5m, but it does have a nice shower space. On the outside, theoretically the washing tank belongs to the house, even tho it is literally outside on the mini patio.

Imma show you the pics bc i gotta rant about this more:

The front.

The mini patio outside.

The view of the house itself. It’s on the “second level” of the place.

The outside washing tank.

The living room.

The kitchen.

The bedroom.

The mini veranda (more like micro) with a view to the street.

Hallway to the bathroom.

The shower.

The rest of the bathroom.

So. Really fucking small and weird, right? But i truly fell in love with this shitty place.

And i made plans.

On the outside, i can probably maybe fit a washing machine by the washing tank. Tight fit, but it may work.

I can fit a small couch (more like a futon), a very thin table by the half wall under the window, a very small coffee table and some storage high on the walls of the living room. Maybe even a thin rack and a small shelf. I wont have a tv bc i dont use one, so i could leave an empty square on the wall and use a projector to watch shit when i have people over.

For the kitchen, the stove would be on that square by the half wall. More storage high on the walls and a cabinet by the sink, maybe. If i could find a smaller fridge, like a 1,50m tall one, i can put it by the bedroom door with a microwave over it. The coffee maker would be on the cabinet by the sink or the thin table at the other side of the half wall.

For the room, i can easily create a wall made of bookshelves on the middle to separate bedroom and office. I can also add a higher level made of wood where the bed will be, to create a better illusion of two ambients. On the micro veranda, plants and a garden table/chair combo if i can fit it. Also, a magnetic mosquito door curtain bc yes.

The batroom only needs some storage, so some shelves on the wall would be enough. Maybe a big mirror to hang there too.

I’m very very tempted to contact the owner and book an appointment just to see the place in person. But the thing is, i absolutely cant move there.

I’ve no job, no money, no means. It’s a 700brl rent, 3 months in advance, which means 140usd per month plus 400usd in advance. And im not even listing the bills. Water is apparently shared with the other residents, but theres electricity and internet and my phone and my medicine.

Its a lot and im going crazy and i cant deal with my parents anymore. I dont wanna be their parent, i dont even want to have kids! And my health is catching up with me, so the number of jobs i could do is going down, and being unemployed with a declining health will help me with fuck all.

This is more a rant than anything. I want so bad to show people this house, but i cant bc i dont want to bother anyone specificaly with a useless wish, so i’ll show it here and people will just ignore and thats fine.

I just. I keep realising that im way poorer than i ever thought i was, and its taking a toll on me. No jobs i could get would pay me enough to move out, no matter what kind. Teacher, artist, academic advisor, secretary, cleaning crew, store clerk, supermarket cashier, none of these pay me enough to survive, and half of them i cant physically do.

Anyways, TL:DR i found a shitty house in a shitty place that i fell in love with. I’ll never be able to live there.

#long post #rant #me #personal #my dream shitty house

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tirednotflirting · 4 years ago

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i can picture it after all these days

basically @reveriesofawriter and i got very eyes emoji about the idea of writing all too well fic but with this focus on all of the little stories that kinda live inside the song. and then we sorta played with that for about ten minutes and then independently wrote two pieces that became the intro to this. so. yeah.

we’re pretty damn proud of it and fully intend to stick around in this little universe for some more fun in the future : ) meghna, i love you to pieces and i’m so crazy happy with how this turned out <3

here it is on ao3 <3

Jack isn’t sure what time it is.

He left his watch at Zack’s place when he slept over on Tuesday (or was it Monday?) and he can see the microwave from his spot on the floor but he never bothered to reset the time after the power went out last. He’d check his phone but then he would be faced with the desperate texts (all left on delivered) he sent once reaching the halfway point on the bottle of red he found in the pantry. So Jack doesn’t know the time and honestly, he’s not sure he cares anyway.

It’s dark now in his living room and he’s reached the bottom of the bottle and the fire is dwindling some so he reaches forward to gently toss another log into the flames. The fire had been Rian’s suggestion. It makes the place feel cozy, Jack. You like cozy. Jack has been operating mostly on autopilot for the better part of three weeks and a break in the routine in the form of a manageable task like building a fire felt like a good change of pace.

Behind him in the kitchen, Jack hears a break in the silence in the form of his phone vibrating against the countertop. He knows he should know better than this by now but he can’t help the way he stumbles to his feet, from the speed at which he stands or the wine, he can’t really tell, and jogs a few steps to reach for the phone.

The notification on the home screen tells him it’s only a text from his mom, another message sending her love and asking if he’s okay and if he needs help with anything or for her to come visit for a while. He hits the lock button to darken the screen before sending any kind of response and drops it to the counter and his face replaces the phone in his hands, his palms pressing against his eyes until he sees stars because damn it, he needs to stop crying at some point. He has to get over feeling like there’s shards of himself breaking apart like he’s a broken glass. As he takes a few deep breaths, his mind trying to keep count as he inhales and exhales like Zack had taught him, he gets an idea. He stands up straight and heads in the direction of his bedroom, for the back of the top drawer in his dresser. For the photos.

Taking pictures with his instant camera had always been Alex’s thing. It was a memory device, he said, but that had never helped Jack understand why he took pictures of the most random things, shook them out and tucked them away in his pocket without showing them to anyone. They went on his dresser, Jack knew, neatly in a row until the dresser was full, and then one row at a time into neat little stacks piled in a box with no label. Alex knew what was in the boxes; he didn’t have to name them.

Jack had swiped a photo from Alex’s hands once, and Alex had just blushed as they waited for the picture to appear faintly and then fill with color. “Smile!” Alex had said out of nowhere the moment they walked through the doors. Between the cold air on his face and the suddenness of the ask, Jack looks a little stunned, and Alex has his arm around his waist, smiling broadly at the camera.

“What was that?” Jack asked as the photo printed. Alex just shrugged like he needed no explanation. That was when Jack had snatched the photo and held it close as it developed. “I look stupid.”

Jack can still hear the sound of Alex’s laugh. “You look cute.”

“No, you look cute. I look like I didn’t know I was getting my picture taken, because I didn’t.” Jack had frowned at the picture, fully endeared by Alex’s sunny smile and, admittedly, how sweet they look together despite him being so obviously unprepared.

“Why don’t you keep that one?” Alex had said unexpectedly. Of course he’d kept it. It felt a lot lighter then than it does now. A lot of things felt lighter then.

Jack looks at the photo in his hands one more time before putting it aside. There are too many photos here to go through each one. He’s almost scared that if he does, he’ll never find it in him to get rid of them no matter how well he knows it’s for the best. Each picture is a bright spot in his memory, but they’re all held close by an ache in his chest that has no hope of going away unless he does something to help it along. There are too many pieces missing now to try and put any of the remaining ones back together.

The rubber band snaps against his fingers as he pulls it off from around the rest of the polaroids. There are only six of them but they feel so much heavier than they should. He thinks distantly back to the phone he left in the kitchen. Would it help to call Rian? He wouldn’t say anything Jack doesn’t already know. He looks at the stack of photos in his hand, fist curled so tightly around them that he can only see the white borders at the corners. He can’t bear to look at them, but he can’t get rid of them until he does.

He knows which one will be next. The first one he’d managed to take of Alex, back when they’d driven upstate with no set destination. They’d ended up at a bed and breakfast for the weekend in some quaint little town that neither of them knew existed, and Alex had been delighted to see there was far less light pollution and far more stars. They’d split a bottle of wine on the balcony after dinner and ended up tangled lazily in bed. He’s sure he said something cheesy about the stars in Alex’s eyes outshining the ones in the sky, and being tipsy was only an excuse. The photo in his hand won’t show any of that though.

Jack picks up the photo he’d set aside first and adds it to the stack. His fingers are already missing the warmth of the fire, and at least there he doesn’t have a reason to sit in the mostly-dark and make himself feel worse, so he closes his drawer and makes his way back to the living room. He pointedly ignores the furniture in favor of sitting on the floor once again, but he grabs a pillow this time.

The fire crackles beside him, sending waves of heat flowing over him and embers floating up into the air. He loosens his grip on the photos just enough to pull the top one. It’s exactly what he expected. Alex almost has his eyes closed, singing along to whatever was playing as he drives with one hand on the wheel and the other in his hair, elbow resting in the open window. The blur of trees in the background are all shades of orange and red, brilliant against the muted blue sky and the grey interior of the car. The other bright spot in the scene is Alex himself. Jack can almost feel the picture come alive as he looks at it, can almost hear Alex singing next to him and encouraging him to sing along too, followed by laughing at him for making up half the words that he can’t remember.

That one day was so long ago that Jack has to wonder how it’s branded itself into his memory, though he finds the answer staring back up at him in his hand. He’d sneakily pulled Alex’s camera out from the back seat, and it wasn’t until Alex heard the click and saw the flash that he noticed what Jack was doing. If Alex had noticed a moment earlier, the photo would have been of his indignant smile and his outstretched arm, grabbing for his camera and yelling at Jack to tell him before he takes a picture.

“But you take candids of me all the time without telling me first!”

“Well we can’t all be as pretty as you without trying.”

Jack still doesn’t know what Alex doesn’t see in himself that is so clear to everyone else. Rian had called it charisma, Jack was a little more romantic in calling it magnetism, but whatever it is that shines through the photo into his dark living room is almost bright enough to dull the fireplace shadows that dance on the walls. If he lets himself feel it, something dark in his chest is pressing against Alex’s smile. Something painfully sharp reminds him that this is a memory that’s no longer his. It’s been ruined, like everything else. Before he can stop himself, he tosses the photo into the fire, and then it’s curling to black at the edges as it gets swallowed up by the flames.

Jack stares into the fire until he’s seeing spots, until the photo is gone entirely. His eyes lift to the dark ceiling of his living room until his vision clears. He ignores the prickling at the corners of his eyes and the way the moment he’s just destroyed is still playing on a loop in his mind.

He takes a deep breath, letting the smell of the fire ground him as he pushes a hand through his hair. It’s getting a little long, he thinks. Alex always liked when his hair was a little longer than usual. He had a habit of twirling the ends of it around his finger whenever they were close enough since Alex tended to get fidgety in the quiet moments.

Jack shakes the thought away as quickly as it appeared and wonders how long it will take before every passing thought doesn’t take him on a path straight to Alex. He picks up the next picture in the stack beside his foot and he squints down at the image as if daring his memory to take him back to the moment held between his fingers.

It’s another one of Alex, another one that Jack took in one of the moments he was able to grab hold of the camera before Alex to snap a candid shot of his boy. A Friday night (Saturday morning, really) if Jack’s remembering correctly and unfortunately, he knows he likely is.

“You’re crazy,” Jack had said through a laugh as his arms instinctively wrapped around Alex’s neck after he had been tugged closer by hands at his waist. It was late, or actually early at that point. Jack had needed to stay late to close that night and fully expected to arrive home to a quiet house. Instead he found a wine drunk Alex dancing in his kitchen to some pop song.

“I just spent six hours grading essays about the Great Depression. It’s the weekend and I want to be happy drunk and dance with my gorgeous boyfriend, damn it,” Alex said while he pressed chardonnay kisses across Jack’s cheeks.

“A brilliant plan,” Jack replied. “Are you going to let go of me long enough to get my own glass though?”

“Nope.” Alex laughed as he pulled Jack in closer at the waist while he dropped his head to rest against his chest as he rocked them back and forth in the middle of the room. Jack had only rolled his eyes and smiled while he shuffled them to the counter so he could pour himself a drink. He had scrunched up his nose at the taste of whatever cheap white Alex must have picked up at the grocery near his school. (“Alex, I literally own a bar. Let me buy you good wine.” “I have the palate of a college senior, babe. I’m sorry, there’s no changing me.”)

Jack wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, rocking back and forth in slow circles with Alex against his chest in a lazy dance while he sipped from his glass. Even as it was happening, Jack knew it was a night with Alex that would always stay with him. Nights like that one were always his favorite, the slower moments. As they shuffled across the tile, Jack couldn’t help but feel like time was standing still, like the moment would never end. Like he never wanted it to.

“Oh, my kids are loving this song right now,” Alex said as the song changed while he grabbed the wine from inside the fridge door. It was while he spun in circles as he pulled the cork from the bottle that Jack reached for the camera sat on the other end of the counter from whenever Alex had last used it during a party or something. The shot he had captured was a blurry one, mid dancing and pouring, a bright blush from the wine (and maybe something more) and a smile painted across his face, his eyes shut in laughter. Jack remembered wanting to picture him like that forever: happy, warm, laughing and dancing in the kitchen they basically shared at that point. Alex was so cemented into his everything by then Jack couldn’t imagine any part of his life or his space without the two of them together in it.

He looks across the room now toward the kitchen and every time he blinks he can see Alex dancing and laughing in the white light from the fridge. He can see the two of them slipping on the tile in their socks at some point and if he keeps his eyes closed for just a moment longer he can see kisses through laughter on the kitchen floor until Jack had pulled them up to keep dancing. He sees Alex on so many other nights sitting on the kitchen counter, his legs swinging while he watched Jack make dinner as he claimed to be helping by stealing something from the pan every so often.

He thinks back to his past self, the version who lived in moments with Alex that felt like they lasted an eternity and how then he wished they would. There’s just a hint of cruelty in the ironic way that now he still feels stuck in those memories and the promise of more like them despite how they were ripped away from him. Jack squeezes his eyes shut for a moment as a laugh rings through his mind and he tosses the picture into the flames.

The fire licks at the last piece of the polaroid. The fire would be burned into his vision by now if it didn’t change its shape so much, but that’s what fires do, they change. “You can get passionate about just about anything.” There was no way for him to have seen the signs, because there were none to see. He can sit here and berate himself for not listening to his intuition, but almost 33 years old and he still can’t tell the difference between intuition and butterflies. “No, it’s cute. It makes you better at your job probably.” Of course he followed the butterflies. “I’ve never had a crush on a teacher before. Actually, that’s a lie, my high school math teacher was kinda hot.” It had earned him a laugh and a smack on the arm from Alex, as it would now.

He can remember the math teacher in question. She was pretty, even in hindsight, but if that was a crush, then whatever he’d felt toward Alex on that first day must have been love at first sight. As much as he tells himself he’s a rational person under it all, he’s also the definition of a hopeless romantic. If it was fate that brought them together, then it was the same cruel fate that tore them apart. If it was luck, then his luck had been on a timer, and exactly three weeks and two days ago, that timer had run out.

He’d woken up to a text he hadn’t dared hope for, and shouldn’t have, because as soon as he read the words he wished he could take it back. The message led him downstairs to his front door, where, as promised, was a small box of mostly trinkets he could just as easily take straight to the trash. Still, some pounding curiosity in his chest made him carry it inside, place it on the coffee table, and dig through it to see just what Alex thought held so much of Jack that he couldn’t keep it in his house for more than 24 hours after a breakup. He was right to think most of it was useless – a cd he’d left in Alex’s car after laughing over how cars don’t have cd players these days, a half-empty pack of gum that could have belonged to anyone but of course it didn’t because Alex had picked up on it being Jack’s favorite within two days, an old polaroid ripped into so many pieces he couldn’t even put it back together to see the image, a receipt that was a little faded but was definitely from Jack’s bar – but he was preoccupied with the one thing that wasn’t there.

Alex had been wearing a bandana the night they’d met, and it had thrown Jack off immediately. Then again, Jack wasn’t supposed to be at the bar that night anyway, but two of his bartenders had called in sick and he was nothing if not understanding. Rian might call him a pushover. Rian might be told to shut up. So it happened that Alex was not a history teacher that night, and Jack was not the owner of the bar, and their chance meeting had given them both slightly different first impressions of each other than what they would have expected later, after they learned each other’s names and drinks of choice and job titles.

It only made sense that after the next few times Alex showed up wearing a bandana, Jack made one too many comments about it and Alex pulled it off his head and put it on Jack’s as he was driving Alex home. After some amount of arguing with Alex over the bandana – drunk Alex could be very stubborn, Jack learned – they agreed that this one would be Jack’s since Alex had so many others. Jack wore it on their next date and left it at Alex’s house, Alex brought it back, that’s how it went. Jack had never planned on the last time he forgot it being the last time he’d ever hold it in his hands.

Thinking about it now, he knows that bandana will show up in one of the photos. He knows exactly which one. He could probably find it by feel, if only because it’s the one he’s looked at the least. All the pictures of Alex, he used to look over often, especially when the polaroids lined his mirror before being tied up and shoved in his dresser. It was more rare that he looked at the one he had of himself. That one, the first one, was always Alex’s favorite of the ones he gave away, and so it had grown to fill a little space in Jack’s heart that felt just short of narcissistic, because it was built by Alex, pinned to the walls of his mind like a little sign that read “this belongs here.”

Jack wants to think if he just keeps his mind off Alex for long enough, he’ll forget all the good things with the same ease he’s found in forgetting all the bad up until the very end. Alex had gotten a little existential on his birthday, but it hadn’t felt like that had anything to do with their relationship. Jack had thought – well, he’d been told – it was because Alex didn’t like the thought of getting older.

“I teach so much of human history, it feels… weird knowing I’m living it. I know that doesn’t make any sense. You know I’ve outlived Joan of Arc? I haven’t led a revolution.”

“You’re educating the youth. Maybe one of them will be the next Joan of Arc.” Apparently this had been the wrong thing to say, because Alex just sighed and frowned, blinking up at the sky.

Jack still doesn’t really understand the allure of stargazing, but Alex’s penchant for searching the night sky for anything identifiable was endearing. Jack still can’t identify a single thing at night aside from the moon and Orion. He thinks back to all the names of constellations Alex had thrown at him and remembers some names: Pleiades, Gemini, the Big and Little Dippers, of which he found the big one once and hasn’t been able to see since despite Alex saying “it’s literally right there.” Alex had shown him a trick for finding the North Star by measuring the sky with his hands like some ancient seafaring pirate, but he can’t remember it now.

Before they’d retreated to the backyard to look up at the stars, they’d been inside with Alex’s parents, celebrating his birthday with far less circumstance than Jack would have expected, though it made sense later.

There was a vase of flowers sitting in the center of the coffee table when they came in, and Jack hadn’t had to ask before Alex’s mom – “please call me Izzy” – informed him that Alex had sent them the week before for her birthday, accompanied by her reaching up to squeeze Alex’s cheeks, making him blush. Alex had warned him that she would pull out the photo albums, not for Jack’s sake as much as it was a tradition for her to coo over how much he’s grown each year. Alex compared it to taking pictures on the first day of school each year, except with his family it was all the time. No occasion was too small. Jack had noted that Alex’s instant camera hobby had a clear source, though he didn’t say so out loud.

At some point, Izzy had left to check on dinner and Jack took the opportunity to grab the nearest photo album. If he had to guess, Alex was around eight in the pictures, ruddy cheeks, same outraged smile at being told how to pose, but with added glasses, bright frames almost too big for his face.

“You never told me you wore glasses.”

“I don’t anymore. I never liked them. I still have those though, somewhere in my room.”

Jack had given Alex one look before Alex groaned and went to get the glasses.

Jack continued to flip through the photo album filled with vignettes of Alex in a previous life, one where he and Jack had never met and wouldn’t yet for another twenty years. His eyes caught on one from a winter much like this, where there was just enough snow on the ground for a young Alex to be dressed like a little marshmallow in his puffy coat, sledding down a hill with his eyes closed, probably laughing, potentially screaming. Before he could get too caught up in the pictures, Alex’s mom came back into the room looking excited.

“Did Alex run off? Do you want to see something? There’s a fox outside!”

Jack wasn’t exactly outdoorsy, but she was so enthusiastic about it he had no choice but to put the photo book aside and follow her to the kitchen where, through the tall glass door, there was a fox. It was barely visible in the lights from the back of the house, but its fluffy orange tail was flicking slowly as it crept along the tree line. Jack glanced to the other side of the yard where there was a small hill that looked perfect for sledding. Izzy was telling him that they see more foxes in the spring, but Jack was thinking of how Alex could drag him out there up that hill with a sled in the dark and Jack would follow blindly. He wasn’t planning on weathering the cold, but if Alex asked…

“Jack?” he heard Alex ask from behind him. “Don’t let my mom corrupt you with her nature agenda.”

Izzy just waved her hands at Alex as he held out the glasses to Jack.

“There’s a fox out there,” Jack said.

“Yeah, because she leaves food out for them.”

“They like cheese,” Izzy chimed in.

“Aww but that’s cute,” Jack said when Alex started to say something about how she can’t adopt them, they’re wild animals.

“Good boy. He’s on my side.” Izzy gave Jack a side hug and went back to working on dinner.

“You can’t encourage her,” Alex’s dad said from his seat at the dining table. It seemed this was an ongoing argument.

Jack glanced at Alex and might have imagined that distant look flash across Alex’s face before he extended his arm again, holding out his old glasses. Jack walked over and took them from Alex, following him back into the living room. As soon as he sat down, he put the glasses on, careful not to pull them so hard they broke around his decidedly adult-sized face, and squinted at Alex. He grabbed the photo album and opened it to the first picture of Alex in the same glasses from years ago, holding it up next to his face. “How do I look?”

Alex laughed and told him to hold that pose, running to grab his camera from where he’d left it just inside the front door. He snapped a picture and told Jack he’d put it in his coat pocket when he put the camera back, but either he lied or made a mistake because it was in Jack’s pocket when he got home later that night, an extra slice of plastic-wrapped cake in hand at Izzy’s insistence. Jack had taken a picture of the polaroid and texted it to Alex with a question mark, and all he’d gotten in return was a smiley face, so he figured it was his to add to his slowly growing collection. It got a spot on his mirror, this adorably mismatched Jack and Alex across decades, a reminder that even though they didn’t know each other back then, they got to know each other now.

Jack looks as closely as he can in the firelight down at the tiny Alex in the picture, almost as unrecognizable to him now as the Alex he’d seen last in real life. He involuntarily sighs in thought as he tosses the photo gently into the fire, watching the colors fade back out before the fire eats it all.

It surprises Jack, the way the next photo he picks up takes him out. Each one has hurt in it’s own right to look at but something about this one has him leaning against the back of the couch, a pain in his chest stinging suddenly like he’s been punched in the ribs. The room is silent apart from the cracking of the fire but if he focuses he can hear the sound of the shutter going off and a gentle laugh ringing out somewhere in the back of his mind.

It’s not the kind of shot that he normally would have any attachment to. It’s a picture of him from the back, his upper half bare after he had tossed his t-shirt somewhere in the direction of the bathroom. He’s holding up a hanger with a red and black flannel shirt. Looking at it now, he knows there’s another one in his other hand but Alex wasn’t able to capture that from his angle sitting on the edge of the bed. They had just stumbled their way through Alex’s apartment after a night out since Alex had insisted Jack stay the night and just borrow something of his to sleep in.

Jack remembers hearing the camera and turning to pout at Alex. He remembers wanting to say something witty and flirty in response to the attempted sneaky picture but they were both so drunk all he could manage was blowing a kiss back. He returned one of the shirts to the closet before grabbing the red one from the hanger and pulling it over his bare arms, not even attempting to bother with the buttons.

He had caught Alex as he was setting the photo beside the rest of them on his dresser, Jack’s arms wrapping around his waist while his head dropped to rest against Alex’s shoulder. His vision swam a bit while he looked at the pictures all neatly laid out, a short story of the two of them being told in little white squares laid across the scratched up wood. Jack hadn’t been given too long to work his way through the tale of them before Alex spun around and pushed Jack onto the mattress and a laugh spilled from his lips while he climbed into Jack’s lap.

Jack had pushed himself up and immediately shivered at the feeling of Alex’s hands dancing up his sides beneath the open shirt before they had come to rest against the top of his chest, Alex’s fingers drumming out a gentle rhythm against his collarbones. Jack had wondered at the time whether or not Alex could feel his heart threatening to beat out of his chest as he looked at him, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth in thought.

“You are thinking way too hard for the state I know we’re both in right now,” Jack had said before reaching a hand up to cup Alex’s cheek and bring their lips together. Alex pulled away far earlier than Jack had deemed appropriate but before he had a chance to whine, Alex had dropped his head to Jack’s shoulder and pressed warm lips against his neck.

“Not to sound possessive or anything but I’m so damn lucky that you’re mine,” Alex whispered with a sigh and a kiss just below Jack’s ear.

Jack felt a blush warm his cheeks as he wrapped an arm around Alex’s waist. “There’s not really a romantic way of saying ditto, is there?” He felt a puff of warm breath against his jaw as Alex laughed in between kisses.

“Maybe I love you, too could do the trick?” Alex said, the slight hesitation in his voice not going unnoticed by Jack as he was met with a worried look when Alex looked up to meet his wide-eyed gaze.

Jack remembered wondering what those three little words would sound like coming from Alex. He didn’t expect that he would be stunned into silence like he was in that moment. A short laugh had left his lips as his thumb traced across the top of Alex’s cheek. “Yeah?”

His question was answered with a tiny nod, Alex’s nerves at the confession still obvious. “If that’s okay? If that’s how you feel, too?”

“Yes,” Jack said without a glimmer of doubt in his voice. “I mean, yeah, I love you, too. But I’m going to wait to say it again until the morning. When we’re both cranky and hungover, if that’s okay?”

“It’s perfect.”

And then Jack was pushed against the mattress again, the flannel shirt soft and warm around him as Alex smiled above him. He could feel the effects of the alcohol starting to wear off as he linked their hands together and pulled Alex down beside him. It was dark, the only light in the bedroom coming from inside the still open closet, but as he held Alex against him, Jack couldn’t help but think that his world had never felt brighter.

The spell breaks suddenly and Jack is back in the darkness of his living room, the soft crackles of the flames just a few feet in front of him and, for just a moment, also the ice maker being the only voices to keep him company. It’s not fair, he doesn’t deserve the ugly hurt pooling in his chest, he thinks, for what feels like the thousandth time in just a few short weeks. Suddenly in his mind dizzied from the wine and love drunk memories, a thought hits him like a bullet between his eyes. He scrambles up, the remaining photos forgotten on the rug as he heads in the direction of his bedroom.

He reaches into his closet nearly blindly, his hands knowing exactly where to reach for what he’s come to retrieve. The red flannel is wrinkled from sitting in a pile shoved behind some jeans since he had tossed it back there a couple weeks earlier. He knew that Rian would have thrown it into the box with the other clothes belonging to Alex he had come to clean out of Jack’s closet in the days just after it happened otherwise.

He balls up the soft, worn fabric while shoving his feet into slippers before making his way back out of the bedroom and down the hall toward the front of the house. He keeps the shirt down at his side knowing there’s a chance Alex’s cologne might still linger on the flannel and given the way the rest of the night has gone, he knows his nostalgia for the soft, sweet scent wouldn’t play nice.

Jack’s not expecting the cold when it hits his bare arms as he steps out into the late winter night but it doesn’t stop his feet from carrying him to the end of the driveway where his trash cans sit waiting for the morning pick-up. One part of his mind had told him to just burn it along with the pictures but his better, barely-there judgement didn’t want to possibly worry Rian and Zack with calls of his living room being set on fire by accident in the middle of the night. He lifts the lid on one of the bins and throws the fabric with some force toward the bottom before immediately turning back to the house. Lingering out in the cold for even a second might bring back more memories of stealing Alex’s sweaters and shirts on chilly nights like this one and he can’t let himself go there.

He jumps at the way the door slams shut from the wind and takes a shaky, deep breath as he lets his back hit the wood of the door while sliding to the floor. He knows what he’s doing in the living room isn’t done yet and that he needs to finish it but whatever he just did has his mind spinning more than the bitter red wine he had drank what feels like ages ago now.

But much like the way every other image he had seen tonight had shot him back to a moment in a so recent past that he thought had held his future, he shouldn’t have been surprised at the way the view from this exact spot knocked him out again while he was already down.

It had been less of a warning sign for him compared to Alex, Jack can think in hindsight, but at the time it hadn’t added up to anything more than nostalgia on top of milestones. If he believes hard enough, he can maybe piece together some kind of sign that he was more into this than Alex was. They’d stood among their friends at the bar and toasted to the new year and maybe if he was more sober he would have been able to tell the difference between distance and intoxication. Maybe he could have picked up that his whispered hope for forever had been received in a more alarming way than he’d intended. And maybe he could have used the next morning to reassure Alex that they didn’t have to move so fast.

The past sits heavy in his mind with missed opportunities and what-ifs, and he can only just bear to think of the most hurtful thing of all. Through the rose-colored glasses and endless nights together, there was no way it could have ended that didn’t shatter him, especially after Alex had been the first to pull away.

If he lets himself hope now, with only his memory to prove him right, he thinks maybe Alex had looked a little hurt by what he’d said even though Jack wasn’t making him say it. He’d regretted buying the flowers right away, but instead of throwing them away, they’d fallen to the floor in the entryway where they sat for almost two days before Zack took them to the trash outside so Jack didn’t have to see them anymore. If he’d missed a couple rose petals, they’re long since dry, but they’re there, a lonely few, hidden behind the back legs of his little console. They must have been blown out into the hall when he slammed the door.

“Let’s be honest, this was fun but it’s not going anywhere.”

“What?” It had felt stupid to ask even then, but Jack could almost feel his world being pulled out from under his feet.

“You and me, we were never meant to last. Forever isn’t a real thing anyway.”

“What are you saying?”

“That this was fun, but it’s not anymore, so we should quit while we’re ahead.” Alex handed the roses back and waited, as if he wanted Jack to have the last word, but Jack had been speechless.

To this moment, he can’t think of what he should have or could have said, since Alex had been so casual about it and anything he could say would have been either spiteful or begging him to change his mind, but it felt like he’d been handed a lost cause and asked to save it. He was helpless, and for the first time, he had nothing left to lean on, no hands left to hold. He’d watched in silence as Alex had walked away perfectly composed as Jack collapsed in on himself from the inside out.

All but one of the pictures is gone, and the fire is starting to die down. He contemplates tossing another log in, but he feels like he should get to bed eventually, even if it’s only for a change of scenery as to which ceiling he’s staring up at. He could sit here in front of the fire until it’s gone out naturally, but it’ll take too long and the last thing he needs is for Rian to drop by in the morning to find him half asleep on the living room floor. Not that Rian would judge him for it, but he would worry, and Jack feels like he’s been responsible for too much of Rian’s worry these days.

Without looking at the last photo, he tucks it into his back pocket. He knows exactly where it belongs, but first, he should reply to at least one text that’s been sitting in his phone all day. His legs protest when he stands up again, but he makes his way to the kitchen where his phone is on the counter exactly where he’d left it. He opens Zack’s invitation to brunch the next morning and replies with a yes, which Zack won’t see until he wakes up at whatever ungodly hour to work out but it will still be before Jack gets out of bed. He immediately sets himself an alarm for an hour before brunch and resolves that he’ll make up the sleep tomorrow. He already knows that Rian will be at brunch too, so more than likely they’ll swing by to pick him up, which means he won’t oversleep on accident.

He looks over at the fire, small and wavering, and then pulls the photo out of his pocket.

Jack is not a bad driver, no matter what anyone else says. Alex had taken him on their first date to get frozen yogurt, so it was only fair that Jack planned the second date. He hadn’t planned on almost getting lost trying to avoid traffic, but there were only so many roads downtown. If he got lost enough he’d end up on a main road and he could lie and say it’s part of the plan.

“Do you know where you’re going? This shortcut is taking a while.”

“Yes I know where we’re going,” Jack had said indignantly. “I’ve lived here longer than you.”

“Well I’m older than you.”

“By less than a year. That doesn’t mean anything.”

“It makes me wiser.”

“Fine, you give me directions. You’re not allowed to look at your phone.”

“I don’t know where we are. I don’t recognize any of these streets.”

“I thought you were supposed to be wise.”

Without too much trouble though, they’d ended up where Jack had planned, at a little French bistro that had excellent breadsticks and even better wine. They got a table on the patio and suddenly Jack felt like he understood why Alex kept taking pictures of things. The sun was setting behind Alex and Jack kept blinking against the orange light and wishing he could capture the picture, golden and hazy around the edges like new beginnings. It was only because Alex had left his camera in the car – and he had told Jack as much – that he wasn’t taking a picture of Jack right there.

They’d walked back to the car brushing shoulders until Alex tentatively took Jack’s hand in his, which was all fun until they realized they couldn’t get back in the car that way. Finding their way back was far less of a journey, but Alex had grabbed Jack’s right hand as soon as they were back on the road, and Jack felt like Alex knew what he was doing every time he loosened his grip to play with Jack’s fingers or squeezed his hand as they talked. Jack can’t remember what he was talking about but he remembers Alex kissing the back of his hand, remembers looking over at Alex for half a second too long and hitting the brake a little too hard so he didn’t drive straight through a red light, remembers his heart pounding from a mix of his own bad driving and Alex’s guilty smile, still holding Jack’s hand, tighter than ever.

The photo itself is from the end of that drive, after they’d spent about half an hour talking in the car outside Alex’s house, neither of them wanting the night to end. Jack had poked fun at Alex’s bandana one too many times, so Alex pulled it off his head and tied it around Jack’s. For once, Alex had told Jack to smile before snapping the photo. The photo printed out slowly and they’d chatted some more as it sat on the dash and developed. Alex looked at it and smiled and said it was the best photo he’d ever taken and he wanted Jack to keep it. It lived in Jack’s wallet for months before it ended up in his dresser drawer with all the others.

Jack from last fall stares up at him now, smiling with crinkly eyes and a lopsided bandana and no idea what the future would hold for him. It’s the only photo he had with only him, no traces of Alex except for the fact that he took it. No distant reflections in wardrobe mirrors, no blurry laughs from being too caught up in the moment to take a real pause and pose for a picture. He pockets the photo and his phone and goes back to the fire to make sure it’s out before going to bed. The polaroid is going right up on his mirror, where it hadn’t been before. It hadn’t joined the others until they were all tied up together, never to be looked at again. He pokes around the ashes until all the embers are dull and grey, and turns the kitchen light off on his way to his room, where finally the only lights left are the ones he’s chosen to keep on.

#jalex #jalex fic #all too well fic babey #i'm just #very very proud of meghna and myself and this piece and ugh i have never been SO HAPPY with how a piece has turned out

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saint-cichol-is-watching · 4 years ago

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Can you do Asmo and MC? If it's over, just ignore this.

It’s not over yet honey you’re safe do not worry I’m actually having lots of fun with this ! Asmo and MC it is !

—

Who accidentally pushes a door instead of pulling/vice versa — Asmodeus does it a lot when he is too busy talking to MC to actually pay attention to how the doors open up. When he finally see the door won’t open he’ll look at it with a very curious look on his face commenting about how weird it is that the door won’t open.

Who doodles little hearts all over the desk with their initials inside them — Asmo normally draws little hearts everywhere but now that he is dating MC he has to tell the world about this and he starts with the desk. He is really proud of this.

Who starts the tickle fights — Asmodeus loves to tickle MC, it’s always him who slides behind them and attack their waist with his fingers. Asmo tickles are really hard to resist to.

Who starts the pillow fights — MC does of course, which earns them a good cry and a gasp from the demon, he says something like “NOT MY FACE” before throwing a pillow at them at retaliation.

Who falls asleep last, watching the other with a small affectionate smile — Both do it. Asmo does when MC is very tired and somehow falls asleep first. He literally gushes over their sleeping self. MC like to look at how innocent he looks when he is sleeping.

Who mistakes salt for sugar — MC does and Asmo still can’t get over how cute their face looked when they scowled because of the saltiness.

Who lets the microwave play the loud beeping sound at 1am in the morning – None of them really do it. Asmo says midnight snacks are unhealthy and that is never good for your skin.

Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines — MC comes up with the cheesy ones. Asmo prefers to come up with the dirty ones, It often comes out in the middle of a very important conversation and often with a third person present who is questioning all of their life choice.

Who rearranges the bookshelf in alphabetical order — Not bookshelves but Asmo does make sure all of his skincare products on his vanity are in alphabetical order for more practicality.

Who licks the spoon when they’re baking brownies — MC does and Asmo gasps in horror at them doing this.

Who buys candles for dinners even though there’s no special occasion — No special occasions ? Every dinner with his lover is a special occasion for Asmo and that deserves some candles and a good mood.

Who draws little tattoos on the other with a pen — Both do it to each other in turns. They have a lot of fun and take a lot selfies afterwards.

Who comes home with a new souvenir magnet every time they go on vacation — Nobody really do, Asmo is not really into magnets anyway.

Who convinces the other to fill out those couple surveys in the back of magazines — They both do. Everyday they’re here with a new magazine and have fun doing the test together. They take them a bit too seriously though, if one give them a bad compatibility score they’ll do three more to get everything back to normal.

—

SEND ME A SHIP :

Possible ships you can send :

Brothers x Undatables | Undatable x Undatable | Brothers/Undatables x One of my OC (Sei/Hajime/Ryū) | Brothers/Undatables x Generic!MC(all of these have been done or requested already) | Poly ships preferably : Brother x MC x Undatable / Undatable x MC x Undatable / Undatable x Brother x Undatable

No Luke ships or Bro x Bro please

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incorrect-nozaki-kun · 4 years ago

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Could you do MikoMayu?

Who accidentally pushes a door instead of pulling/vice versa: Mikorin thinks he’s smooth...he is not

Who doodles little hearts all over the desk with their initials inside them: Mikorin bc he’s a MASSIVE DORK

Who starts the tickle fights: Mayu

Who starts the pillow fights: Mikorin usually in response to tickle fights

Who falls asleep last, watching the other with a small affectionate smile: Mayu

Who mistakes salt for sugar: Mikorin oh my god

Who lets the microwave play the loud beeping sound at 1am in the morning: Mayu bc he’s chaotic but Mikorin was awake anyway

Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines: Mikorin and then IMMEDIATE REGRET

Who rearranges the bookshelf in alphabetical order: Neither of them lmao they don't clean

Who licks the spoon when they’re baking brownies: Mayu

Who buys candles for dinners even though there’s no special occasion: Mikorin and then again REGRET

Who draws little tattoos on the other with a pen: Mikorin draws flowers it’s adorable

Who comes home with a new souvenir magnet every time they go on vacation: Mayu

Who convinces the other to fill out those couple surveys in the back of magazines: Mikorin unironically Mayu ironically

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godsporncollection · 4 years ago

Text

Sunday GC Sessions Summary

(long version) (personal commentary in parenthesis)

M Russell Ballard

List of how the second coming is described followed by a huge list of the very obvious things wrong with the world right now.

We pray for you.

Remember to pray. Pray lots, and for lots of people, because the leaders of the world need divine inspiration.

Quotes the lord's prayer.

Pray for everyone, even people you don't like.

(Do deaf people sign their prayers, when praying alone? What about when they pray in small, maybe family, groups?)

Prayer will help us by making feel better.

Pray everywhere you go.

Personal story of being in pain from a surgery on the hand; prayer helped the pain.

Lisa L Harkness

Story of a child jumping into a lake and feeling she needed help, even though she was safe. Sometimes we do this too, because we can't see that we are safe with god.

Biblical story of JC falling asleep in the boat that entered a storm and the disciples got scared and asked him to save them.

Recent events can leave us feeling lost and afraid, but we should have faith in god.

Ulisses Soares

Seek JC in every thought and follow him with all our heart.

Metaphor of magnet + metal object. Magnetic force holds objects tightly, but looses that power when the object is far away.

Temptation will fade when we continue to resist it.

JC told JS when in prison "let thy bowels also be full of charity towards all men and women, and to the household of faith, and let virtue garnish thy thoughths unceasingly; then shall thy confidence wax strong in the presence of god. The holy ghost shall be thy constant companion, and thy scepter an unchanging scepter of righteousness and truth."

If you fall into temptation, there is hope.

Story of friend who fell into temptation. He was sad.

Prodigal son story.

Carlos A Godoy

I believe in angels. They're important. Some are here on earth. I'm gonna talk about those.

I converted at 16, after two angels (sister missionaries) introduced me to the gospel at a church activity.

I met another angel at youth conference. Her squad became my squad.

Then I met two other angels; my seminary teacher and young men president.

"Thanks to all these angels and many others I encountered during those important early years, I received enough srength to remain on the covenant path as I gained a spiritual witness of the truth."

"Please, please do not give up on your efforts to be part of this big family. It is the true church of JC. When it comes to your happiness and salvation, it is always worth the effort to keep trying. It is worth the effort to adjust your lifestyle and traditions. The lord is aware of the challenges you face. He knows you, he loves you, and I promise he will send angels to help you."

Neil L Andersen

Jc's resume.

"A recent study revealed that in the last 10 years, 30 million people in the US have stepped away from believing in the divinity of JC. Looking worldwide, another study predicts that in the decades ahead, more than twice as many will leave christianity than those who will embrace it."

Use the correct name of the church and talk about JC more. We have to talk more about JC because the world is talking about him less.

Russell M Nelson

'Israel' means 'let god prevail'.

Israel's descendants stoned the prophets. (...)

My grandkid's wife was sad that her father was dying, but I told her she was being near-sighted. She felt better after looking at the big picture of god's plan.

I greive for black people.

(I can't listen to any more of this asshole, sorry.)

AFTERNOON SESSION

Henry B Eyring

"My hope is to give encouragement when life seems especially difficult and uncertain. For some of you, that time is now. If not, such a time will come."

Personal story of pulling weeds as a child and the frustration of the weeds breaking instead of coming out. Mother said "oh, Hal, of course it's hard; it's supposed to be. Life is a test."

Story of us choosing to come to earth and satan disagreeing and getting followers. "Now, he tries to cause as many as he can to turn away from god during this mortal life." In the spirit world, we must have decided that whatever hardships we were going to face, "the forces of good would be overwhelmingly greater."

Two quotes that say that god will be with us, and will help us, even in our darkest hours.

God occasionally shows me the next couple of steps, but never a glimpse of the far future.

Also, we need to help others.

Another story of mother, who "all her life, she felt effects of the trials of illness. In her last 10 years of life, she required multiple operations. But through all, she proved faithful to the lord." "The last speaker [at her funeral] was elder Spencer W Kimball. After saying something of her trials and her faithfulness, he said essentially this: 'some of you may wonder why Mildred had to suffer so much and so long. I will tell you why. It was because the lord wanted to polish her a little more."

Jeremy R Jaggi

My youngest brother died two years ago. "We found comfort in the words of elder Neil L Anderson in general conference the week before Chad died: 'In the crucible of earthly trials, patiently move forward, and the savior's healing power will bring you light, understanding, peace, and hope.'" We'll be with him again, but losing him hurt.

James 1:2.

We thought 2020 would be all joy. Shit happened, but we're determined to see joy in this year anyway.

Chapter 6 of 'Preach My Gospel'.

"Blessed are the meek (etc)".

Many unsourced quotes saying that the more you seek/follow/believe in JC, the happier you will be.

Daughter, Emma, is a missionary. "[Emma] asked us to connect [online] with friends she was teaching [in the Netherlands]... We invited them to join our weekly online... study... All have become our friends." They've all converted.

Nelson recently said "Voluntary fast offerings from our members have increased, as well as voluntary contributions to our humanitarian funds."

"My brother Chad's passing came just a few months after our release from presiding over the Utah Ogden mission... Of all the 417 missions we could have been assigned to, we were assigned to... a 30-minute drive to Chad's home. Chad's cancer was diagnosed after we received our mission assignment. Even in the most trying circumstance, we knew that our heavenly father was mindful of us."

Gary E Stevenson

I was serving a mission in Japan. Kimball was speaking in Tokyo. I wanted to go. It was a long commute, so the mission president said no, but the rest of the branch went, so we were alone. Kimball announced a temple in Tokyo. I was disappointed to miss it.

This is like the even deeper disappointment people today experience due to covid.

How do we move forward? Consider the first verse of the BoM.

Wife and I met online with many missionaries who still managed to do lots of ministering, despite covid restrictions.

Think of "JS, languishing in Liberty Jail, feeling abandoned and forsaken, then hearing the words of the lord: 'these things shall be for thy good' and 'god shall be with you forever.'"

"We, too, can draw parallels, as individual members and as a church, in the way in which we have been highly favored of the lord during the challenging times we have encountered during the past several months."

"Let [these examples] strengthen your testimony of the seership of our living prophet, who prepared us with adjustments before any hint of a pandemic, enabling us to endure the challenges that have come."

List of ways that we have been told to prepare.

Story of a young woman who was just barely able to go to the temple right before leaving for her mission.

Milton Da Rocha Camargo

Gave his entire backstory before getting around to the topic: prayer.

"An important part of heavenly father's plan is the opportunity to communicate with him anytime we want."

"Every one that asketh, receiveth (etc)."

"Recording our impressions is an important part of receiving. It helps us recall, review, and re-feel what the lord is teaching us."

I like it when I have strong feelings after praying, but, more often, we're likely to hear the "still, small voice of the lord whispering to our mind and heart, 'I am here. I love you.'"

"Revelation often comes when we are in the act of doing good."

Dale G Renlund

Can I be a better person?

And "how can I, as a flawed person, qualify to 'dwell with god in a state of never-ending happiness'?"

"Good deeds are not sufficient. Salvation is not earned... Left to our own devices, the prospect of returning to live in god's presence is hopeless. Without the blessings that come from heavenly father and JC, we can never do enough or be enough by ourselves... Because of and through JC, we can become enough."

"We can be redeemed and stand clean and pure before god" by the ordinances of the gospel.

"Do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with thy god."

*Jewish appropriation*

Story of someone who had to remind someone "Dr. Jones, you became a physician to care for people and work to heal them. You didn't become a physician to judge them [on a self-infilcted wound]. If you don't understand the difference, you have no right to train at [Johns Hopkins Hospital, Baltimore, MD]."

Don't think you're above others.

"To be christlike, a person loves mercy... gracious, kind and honorable. These individuals treat everyone with love and understanding, regardless of characteristics such as race, gender, religious affiliation, sexual orientation, socioeconomic status, and tribal, clan, or national differences."

Kelly R Johnson

Story of daughter who set the microwave to cook [instead of timer] for 30 min. It caught on fire. This is because microwaves need something in them to absorb the energy.

"Our entire microwave went up in flames and burned because there was nothing on the inside. Likewise, those who have faith and the word of god deep in their hearts will be able to absorb and overcome the fiery darts which the adversary will surely send to destroy us."

(As someone raised with a fire extiniguisher in the kichen, I feel the sudden urge to suggest this to anyone with children)

(I have no idea what else he said because he used the word 'power' 34 times in his short talk, and it lost all meaning)

Jeffrey R Holland

Covid sucks and it's going on too long.

We want to know when our struggles will be over.

I'm now speaking about "those who would like to be married and aren't or who are married and with their marriage were a little more celestial. I speak of those who have to deal with the unwanted appearance of a serious medical condition, perhaps an uncurable one. Or face a life long battle with a genetic defect that has no remedy. I speak of the continuing struggle with emotional and mental health challenges that weigh heavily on the souls of so many who suffer with them and on the hearts of those who suffer with them. I speak of the poor, whom the savior told us never to forget. I speak of you, waiting for the return of a child no matter what the age, who has chosen a path different from the one you prayed he or she would take." Plus economic, political,and social concerns.

Your prayers "are heard and they are answered, though perhaps not at the time or in the way that we wanted." They'll be answered when and how god thinks they should be.

We shouldn't ask for a stress-free life; struggles make us worthy to live with god.

Russell M Nelson

"We live in a glorious age, foreseen by prophets for centuries... Despite the world's commotion, the lord would have us look toward the future with joyful anticipation... The gathering of Israel moves forward. The lord JC directs the affairs of his church and it will achieve it's divine objectives. The challenge for you and me is to make certain that each of us will achieve his or her divine potential."

Let JC be your 'new normal' by "repenting daily. Seek to be increasingly pure in thought, word, and deed. Minister to others. Keep an eternal perspective. Magnify your callings. And... live each day so that you are more prepared to meet your maker."

Six new temples: Tarawa, Kiribati; Port Vila, Vanuato; Lindon, Utah; Greater Guatamala; Sao Paulo East, Brazil; and Santa Cruz, Bolivia.

#exmo #exmormon #ex-mormon #apostake #mine #ex mormon #exchristian #ex christian #excult #cult stuff #exlds #ex lds #former mormon #ex religious #agnostic #gc october 2020 #gc summary

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