#can’t wait for my first haircut at the end of august

[jiishwa]

oh my god the way my hair is in the current state of its grow out it looks like death the kid’s hair (minus the stripes of course) but im like noooo what is going on 😭

[daemonmatthias]

Things Happening between now and August:

end of grading period (oh boy are the kids in a panic because they missed very formative self discipline/responsibility-building years due to COVID)

academic competition (travel during a school day for the first time, also right before state testing so will I get side-eyed for not being in class?, still need to put in for the sub)

5th wedding anniversary (fancy dinner preparations almost complete- still need to make the nail appt and I think he still needs a tie)

state testing (yes, sure, force me to make the kids jump through a billion hoops because you’re scared about funding; that’s a great way to increase scores)

anniversary getaway weekend (don’t forget only the deposit has been paid; remember to leave enough money aside)

Haircut (routine but like don’t forget it exists with everything else going on)

friends’ wedding (my preparations about half complete but he probably hasn’t decided what he’s wearing at all, and hotel room still needed and I can’t finish my preparations until the other bits are handled)

Broadway show (popular, well-reviewed show that we not super familiar with but are looking forward to)

fun zoo event (alarm already set for ticket release time so they don’t sell out again on us, I think we both have appropriate clothes...)

end of year closeout + curriculum writing (somehow, the checkout process STILL makes me anxious)

Broadway show (that i’ve been DYING to see since it was first announced before COVID and then they had to cancel and now it’s finally coming)

Road Trip (first big road trip on our own, to see if we really want to move to another state, which is big enough, but we had to get our hotels and we still need a new cooler but we should wait for memorial day sales)

Friends Weekend! (2 friends visit for a weekend + all 4 of us meet up with another couple for a Broadway show with box seats! But also should we do an escape room again? what about the art museum- they’re having a special exhibit? or maybe we should see if there’s a glass blowing workshop that weekend...)

[nikatyler]

Axel: “Dude, you got a haircut for this! Now I feel unprepared. Should I quickly call a hairdresser before the interview starts?”

August: “Or maybe, what do you think, you could let your future partner have a say in that. After all, that’s why we’re here, right?”

Axel: “Yes! I’m sick of being forever alone. And why’s that even a thing? Just because I’m a ‘spare’, I can’t fall in love? That’s bullshit.”

Nika: “You guys know I was saving you for this very moment, right?”

August: “Shit, the watcher’s here already.”

Nika: “Yup, I’ve been sitting here this whole time. Anyway, we’ve agreed that we wouldn’t show your faces just yet, but the contestants deserve to know at least a little bit about you, don’t they?”

Axel: “Yeah, definitely.”

Nika: “So let’s begin. Who would like to introduce himself first?”

Axel: “Okay, I’ll start, since I’m the older twin. The expected one.”

August: “All things considered, neither of us was expected.”

Axel: “Fair point. So, my name is Axel, I come from Sunset Valley and I’m a doctor. Oh, and since the audience probably doesn’t know this yet: August and me are the two younger gen 2 siblings in watcher’s new lepacy. Then there’s also Morrigan, but she gets left behind completely.”

Nika: “Okay, fair, call me out for that, I do keep forgetting about her. Anyway, what about your hobbies?”

Axel: “Well, when we first went to Champs Les Sims with our older brother, I really got into wine---I mean, nectar making. I’ve been making wine, I mean, nectar, for years now, and I think I got really good at it. I also enjoy martial arts and meditation. I learned that in Shang Simla.”

August: “We both really love travelling. I’m glad our brother is still taking us with him.”

Axel: “Yeah, Ember is the best.”

Nika: “So what about you, August?”

August: “I work at the science facility in Sunset Valley, but I wouldn’t really call myself a scientist yet. Maybe someday, but I’m not there yet.”

Axel: “Don’t be so humble, you’re doing amazing.”

August: “Thanks. In my free time, I like to be outside. I go fishing often and I also spend a lot of time taking photos.”

Nika: “What do you like to take pictures of?”

Axel: “Toilets.”

August: “Hey, that was just one time!”

Axel: “Yes, and that stupid picture is still in my wine room.”

August: “So? It’s art. But usually, I take pictures of architecture. Interesting places in Sunset Valley, nature and such. I haven’t had the chance to walk around Riverview yet, but I’d like to add it to my collection as well.”

Nika: “Awesome! I’m sure you’ll get a chance. Now tell me something about your brother.”

August: “About Ember? He’s not here.”

Axel: “I think they meant it more like I talk about you and you talk about me.”

August: “Oh. Yeah that makes sense. Well, Axel is a great guy, I think. He’s a bit stubborn though, and his biggest fear is that he’ll die alone.”

Axel: “I would protest but you’re actually right, I’m scared of that.”

August: “I’m surprised he’s still single though. It’s not so surprising with me, but --”

Axel: “You’re being humble again, dammit. And it’s not like the dating options in Sunset Valley are great, right? People my age were mean to us in middle school and they’re still mean to us.”

Nika: “Really? Why?”

Axel: “Eh, you know. Don’t act like you don’t.”

August: “Daddy issues, sort of.”

Axel: “Yup. We’ll leave it at that. The audience will figure it out eventually.”

Nika: “Well, I’m sure the contestants won’t have a problem with that. Speaking of them: What are your expectations? Who do you want to see enter your bachelor challenge? Girls, boys...anyone? What do you want them to be like?”

August: “I don’t think I have any preferences.”

Axel: “Same. I mean, I’ve had some one night stands, they were mostly guys, but I like girls too. I haven’t had a chance to, you know, be with an enby, but they can obviously enter too. Like August said, no preferences, not really.”

August: “And moving on from that, I don’t even have a type when it comes to what you look like.”

Axel: “The real beauty shines from within anyway, right?”

August: “Yup. And it looks different on anyone. It’s like, fairy lights are beautiful. Flowers are beautiful too. And they don’t look alike.”

Axel: “Dude, that was great. How comes you’re still single?”

August: “Maybe I was saving myself for a BC. I’ve always wanted to have one!”

Axel: ...

Axel: “Oh. Well now everything makes sense. And you were afraid to do it alone, so you asked me to join you. I love that! By the way, I think we skipped over the part where I would talk about him.”

August: “You’ve already said a lot about me.”

Nika: “No, he’s right. Axel, would you like to say something else?”

Axel: “Yes! Uh...wait, I lost it right now. What was it...oh yeah. August is like...a god when it comes to eyeliner. Just not when he’s doing it on himself. And he always makes a fool of himself when we’re travelling, but he’s still the best.”

Nika: “That was an important addition.”

August: “Absolutely. He’s still mad at me about the toilet photo, can you tell?”

Axel: “Because it’s the ugliest photo ever! Why do you even need to take a photo of a toilet?”

August: “You wouldn’t get it, it’s art!”

Nika: “Alright, alright, before you start fighting, one more very important question.”

Axel: “We get along, I swear. Anyway, what’s your question?”

Nika: “Twelve contestants - if everything goes according to plan - will enter this house. They will try to impress both of you.”

Axel: “Or they’ll come in and decide ‘oh, I want that one’ and focus on that for the rest of the competition while completely ignoring the other brother.”

Nika: “Yes, that’s possible, but what I mean is that they could end up with either of you, only time will tell. It’s not like six people will enter for you, Axel, and six for you, August. What if you both fall madly in love with one contestant?”

August: “That’s an interesting question.”

Axel: “Old-fashioned sword fight.”

August: “What?! You’d stab me?! I’m literally your twinbrother!”

Axel: “I’m not saying I’d stab you, watcher could interfere. No, jokes aside, I think we’ll figure it out when it happens. If it happens.”

August: “Or we let the person decide who they want more.”

Nika: “I think that could work, but what if they’re not sure either?”

Axel: “You’re stressing me out with that question.”

August: “It’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

Nika: “You’ll figure it out.”

Axel: “Yes. As I said before.”

Nika: “Good! I think you can take it from here.”

August: “Yeah, we’ll do just fine on our own, but thanks for talking with us.”

Axel: “When can we expect the contestants to come?”

Nika: “Soon. The applications will be opened in a short moment, so don’t walk away just yet, or you might miss it.”

[sienna-writes]

On the Border of Blinking | intro

[ for some reason i structured this post like a breakup. sorry about that. all photos are my own. ]

goodbye, old fren;

I recently finished my first poetry anthology, ‘the anatomy of iridescence’ that was basically all the surrealist poetry I had prolifically written throughout 2020. I am very proud of it and it essentially reads like an indie movie. ie: a series of images with minimal narrative. But it leans into horror and is centrally focused on anatomy, body horror and visceral imagery to describe both real and imagined  experiences. In terms of themes it covers death, mental illness, and abuse frequently and I suppose the vagueness and intangibility of many images and poems represents the confusion I was feeling in relation to all these experiences. Essentially I'm saying all this to justify the fact that this is an incredibly messy anthology. I haven’t talked about it much on here because it’s deeply personal and deeply unpublishable lol. A lot of the feedback from magazine submissions has been to add more narrative into the poems and while that’s definitely very valid, helpful advice I really don’t want to alter these poems as they’re intended to be raw and confused.

a new beginning !

anywho, introducing anthology dos. On the Border of Blinking is about transience, fleeting feelings and moments, passing conversations, sight as an intrusion, living in the present - moment to moment - blink to blink. It’s more focused already than my previous anthology, and I decided to change my poetry style and voice for it. and have been loving it. It is less physical. More emotional, with stronger narratives and a more introspective voice. I want to play around with form even more and craft a stronger through line in this anthology and can’t wait to get further into it! I have so many ideas and poetry is my absolute favourite form to write in because I can do it even when college is taking up a lot of my time. 

I started writing in January and have been gradually adding to it. Here’s my progress so far!

word count; 4466

page numbers; 34

poem titles; 

Tag yourself, I’m the lion playing sheep 

I love these titles so much and am incredibly happy with most of the actual poems behind them. Hands is absolutely my least favourite right now and needs some work. It was a good concept but it feels all wrong and I’ll probably scrap and rewrite it entirely.

I’m aiming to include 30 poems in this collection, but that depends how long they end up being I think. I want it to be focused and not overloaded.

writing process;

In my previous anthology I wrote a poem called “blood-gummed laces” which intrigued me as it was a real shift from the style and form I had settled into. As I finished up the final poem of the collection I decided my next one would be written in a similar way. It has been so, so fun to blend aspects of my old poetry voice with this new one. I still love how I was writing, but it’s lovely to be experimenting and to change it up a little. It has also been hugely benefitting my prose to be writing more subtly, so that’s a nice bonus. [ don’t get me wrong I still absolutely love very graphic, slightly horrifying images, but that’s not the vibe of this collection. I am enjoying the relief of the subtle, fragile, quiet style. ]

Starting a new project is like getting a new haircut lol. It’s objectively a small change to one part of you, but it feels like you're an entirely new person. Basically what I’m trying to say is that I feel creatively fulfilled, it’s nice to be semi-free from writers block and that i really needed a fresh start so it feels good to have one. I’ve even began to think in poetry again, yay! [ i don’t intend that to be pretentious lmao, it’s just sometimes when things are happening i just automatically translate it into poetry. ]

I think so far “Safe, like a liar” and “In the mute quiet” are my absolute favourites and I have been determined to get them published. Hopefully someone will like them as much as I do some time soon! :”) “Safe, like a liar” was my first attempt at a prose poem and about the security we find in avoiding challenging topics with partners, friends, family, anyone. I love the subtlety of it and the little details you get to add in this form. “In the mute quiet” is about snow as a representation of the muffling, silencing, numbing feeling of grief.  These are both poems that make me feel very emotional lol, in all sorts of ways. 

I would love to share some extracts but am currently submitting a lot of these in various places, so I can’t right now! 

conclusion;

I'm very excited :) and hope my rambling was at least vaguely enjoyable :"))

tag list (ask to be added/removed);

@alicewestwater @elaz-ivero @coffeeandcalligraphy @hanwatchingmovies @chloeswords @nev-953 @justahufflepuffnerd @writerschronicles @august-iswriting @jennawritesstories @jaydewritesfiction @avakrahn

[pixie88]

Mrs. Evans

Chapter 14 - Always the Bridesmaid.

A/N: Sorry I haven’t uploaded anything new in the last week or so but I have about 6 drafts on Wattpad waiting to be transferred over. I’m hoping this chapter has been worth the wait for you guys! Thanks for being patience with me! I hope you like it.

If you would like to be ADDED or REMOVED just let me know! I hate to annoy people with tags.

Read previous chapters HERE!

Warnings: Fluff & NSFW

Word Count: 2062

Pairings: Laila x Harry

Enjoy!

5 Weeks later

Laila is just finishing her last client of the day when her phone PINGS.

She shook her head.

Ever since that night he had picked her up from Nikki's he will not let her walk home in the evenings by herself. No matter how many times she had told him that she was fine with walking home, he'd be outside the shop waiting for her to finish at the end of her shift.

15 Minutes later

"Laila, your boyfriend is here!" Daniel calls over "OK, I'm just finishing up Mrs. Evans" she smiles up at her in the mirror.

Mrs. Evans has been one of Laila loyal clients, when she has move salons Mrs. Evans has always followed. She has to get 2 buses to get to this salon, Laila has offered to do her hair at home, but she says she likes coming to the salon as it gets her out of the house. Even though she shouldn't, Laila always charges her less than the salons prices, but unbeknownst to Mrs. Evans Laila makes up the difference through her tips.

"I'll finally get to meet this boyfriend of yours, Laila" she whispers, Mrs. Evans has a glint in her eyes "Hang on a minute! Is that why you asked for a late appointment? I've told you that he walks me home, haven't I!?" Mrs. Evans giggles "Mrs. Evans! That is sneaky!" she narrows her eyes at her with a smirk "Laila, How many times do I have to tell you it's Ivie!" Laila leans in and whispers "I know but my boss says it's unprofessional to call clients by their first names" Ivie huffs.

"Right, all done!" she gets up from the seat and hands Laila some money "There's a little extra in there to take this boyfriend for a drink" she whispers, Laila tuts "You didn't have to do that!" she isn't having any of it "Now where is he?" Laila walks her to the reception desk.

Daniel knows the drill to take the money from Laila once she has gone.

He's sat down when he saw her, his face lights up. He gets up from his seat "Mrs. Evans..I mean Ivie, this is my boyfriend Harry Taylor..Harry this is my client of..." it takes her a moment to think "11 years Mrs. Ivie Evans" he offers her his hand and a bright smile, "It's a pleasure Mrs. Evans" she smiles at him "Oh please call me Ivie. Nice to meet you Harry!" she shook his hand "Isn't he handsome Laila! He has dimples too, they say you will never be without a girlfriend if you have dimples!" Harry chuckles "Well thank you, Ivie! I bet you have broken a few hearts in your time"

Ivie blushes "I like him, Laila!" they are interrupted by the sound of a car horn "Oh, that will be my grandson! He's giving me a lift home, Laila can you book me in for 8 weeks time just text me a time. It was nice meeting you Harry, you better take care of her or I'll be after you!" Laila hides a laugh "Don't worry I will. Nice to meet you to Ivie" Harry tells her as she leaves the shop she waves over to Laila.

Once she is out of sight Laila hands Daniel the money Ivie had given her "She's paid £15?" Daniel asks "She said she put some money in there for me to get my boyfriend a drink" Laila says as she empties her tip jar and hands Daniel the extra fiver "I don't know why you don't just ask her to pay the extra tenner" Daniel shook his head "Because I've been doing her hair for years and she's a pensioner"

Harry looks at her confused "Laila, only charges Mrs. Evans £10 for haircut and makes up the difference through her tips" Daniel tells him "Ten pounds difference right?" Harry asks, pulling out his wallet and sticking a tenner in Laila tip jar "Harry!" she pulls it out and hands it back to him, he holds up his hands refusing to take it back "Harry! You can't do that!"

He shrugs his shoulders "I just did and I didn't know about the tip system last time, so call it a late tip!" She huffs "Plus, she did say to you to get your boyfriend a drink!" He winks "Fine!" She pockets Harry's tip and the rest of the jar.

She helps Daniel lock up before leaving for the day, Harry links his fingers through hers "How long have you been doing that for Ivie?" Harry asks her as they walk home "Since I moved to this salon! My other boss didn't mind, but Dave wasn't having any of it" Harry smiles at her "You know you are terribly sweet and soft! But it's also super adorable!" she rolled her eyes at him.

After Poppy told him five weeks ago about Laila's birthday, he confirmed it with Alec that it was in 6 weeks on 5th August. She will be 31, Rem had given him a few present ideas all of them, he knew she would gone nuts, it had to be something sentimental. It took him a few days, but he came up with the perfect gift for her.

~*~*~*~

A couple of days later

Harry stayed at Laila's for the night, as it was her birthday the next day. Her parents were having a do at theirs, they had invited Harry's family, but his parents were on holiday in Rome. Rose offered to for them to flight back, but Harry told them it was fine. Surprisingly Colin suggested they would take the couple out for a meal when they got back to have belated birthday celebrations.

Once Laila fell asleep, Harry managed to sneak down to his car and decorate the flat with balloons, party streamers and banners. He popped the flowers he had bought in a vase with her card, present and small birthday cake in front of the bouquet.

He crept back into bed.

The next morning he woke before her, she was laying on her side with her back towards him. He pulled her towards his chest, she began to stir, he had an idea. His lips kissed just below her ear, his hand slips into her underwear and moves to part her folds "Hmmm..." she hums. He brushes against her clit, her breathing becomes heavy.

His muscular frame surrounded her, he pulls the straps of her top down replacing them with kisses. He only has to stroke over her a couple times before her centre is soaked "Hmm....what a way to be woken up!" He smirks against her shoulder, his lips press against her ear "Happy birthday gorgeous!"

He places a small kiss against her pulse line as 2 fingers enter her, he watches her bite her lip, she pushes the curves of her arse against him and she begins to grind her curves against his crotch. He backs away "Ah ah! Today is about you!"

She huffs, he wants her just as much but today is about her. His pace quickens, her hand reaches up behind her and clutches his hair. She throbs with pleasure, a hot frenzy threads through her body to her core and as he enters another finger inside her while his thumb press onto her clit. Her eyes drift shut as she bucked her hips, legs begin to shake as he curled his long digit inside her and stroked all the right places.

She's barely holding back, the edge in near and she is more than ready to fall over it. Her clutch on his hair tightens as she hits her climax, calling out his name but before she's down from her high, he flips her onto her back, pulls off her underwear and his lips are against her apex. His tongue parts her fold "Harry, wha...what are you doing?" She feels him smirk against her core, he lifts his head a little to look up at her "Making you come in every way possible!" she doesn't get to reply before his mouth is back against her centre.

A little later

Both spent, trying to catch their breath, they collapse back against the mattress. Her head rests on his rising chest "That was one way to wake me up!" he chuckles "Get your pajamas on, I have another surprise for you," she reaches for her underwear and she grabs his t-shirt pulling over herself. "I'm going to have to cover your eyes for this part" He moves behind her, in just his boxers. His hands, cover her eyes, he guilds her into the living room he decorated the night before.

He removes his hands, her eyes refocus as she looks around the room "Wow! This is lovely!" she turns and captures his lips, he smirks "That's not all!" he points over to the dining room table, where her presents are. "You didn't have to get me anything!" he chuckles "I wanted to" she walks over and opens her card. The front reads *Happy birthday to my beautiful girlfriend*

"Open the smaller present first," he tells her, she opens the smaller one. It's a small compact mirror, she looks at him confused, he flips it over and in permanent marker it says *Your dare is to get a kiss from who you think is the most attractive person in the room* she laughs remembering this was his dare he had asked her to help him with at the stag weekend. She pulls his lips to hers, he smirks against them "At least this time you didn't tell me to kiss my own reflection" they both laugh.

"Open the other one!" she turns to the last present, she opens the box inside is a silver locket "Harry...It's...beautiful!" he smiles "Just like the one your Great Nan had?" she takes a closer look, its very simpler "It is!?" he smirks "After you told me how much you loved it. I asked Remy to get a photo of it from your parents, but that's not all look inside and check out the back of it" she flips it over.

Engraved on the back are the words and the date she asked him to be her boyfriend *I love you x 12/06/20* she opens it up and the photo is the one he took of them together on top o2 arena. She rushes him, her arms wrap round him "Thank you so much! Honestly the best present ever!" he's glad she likes it "You're welcome, I'm glad you like it. You go and get in the shower and I'll cook us up some breakfast" she places a soft kiss against his lips and makes her way towards the bedroom.

Her phone is vibrating against the bedside table, she swipes the screen, she laughs as she shook her head at her friends.

After her shower, Harry serves up her breakfast waffles and fruit, he even lights a candle on the birthday cake "What did you wish for?" he asks "A new boyfriend," she teases him, but soon regrets it when he begins to tickle her "Ahh!" she screams "What did you say, Laila?" he loves hearing her laugh "OK, I was joking! The only boyfriend I want is you" he stops "Good! The feeling is mutual, Princess"

Laila meets Nikki outside her work "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Nikki screeched at her before wrapping her arms around her friend, "Thank you! But I can't breathe" Nikki loosens her grip "What did Harry get you?" Laila lifts her locket to show her "Oh wow! Laila! That's gorgeous!" they head in for their appointment with Daniel.

Continue reading this story here - Chapter 15.

@lem-20​ @secretaryunpaid​ @shewillreadyou​ @aussieez​ @khoicesbyk​ @irisofpurple​ @tea-me-kah​ @casualpostqueen​ @gloriousalmondvoiddreamer

[jobean12-blog]

Top Shelf: Chapter 16- Turning Over a New Leaf

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Bookshop/Bartender/Baking AU)

Word Count: 2,255

Summary: You’re busy with all the good stuff and renovations are well underway at the Bookshop, you set a date for the reopening, Bucky wants to make a change but he’s not sure how you’ll react. 

Author’s Note: Happy Monday again guys! As always just want to thank you again for coming along on this journey with me. Every time I write a new chapter it makes me smile and I hope you do too. This one was fun for obvious reasons...don’t be mad at me! I had to do it. Thank you again for your continued support and kindess and for reading! Much love always ❤❤❤

Warnings: Fluff (as usual), fun with friends, some sexy teasing and flirting and implied sexy times, Bucky’s beard...

Top Shelf Masterlist 

The next few weeks fly by in a dizzying haze of Bucky, the Bookshop renovations and your friends. You somehow manage to fit working a full-time job in there but it’s the least of your priorities and you are seriously starting to question how much longer you want to work there. It’s great and the people you work with are nice, but your heart just isn’t in it.

It’s already the end of August and Steve is finishing up the construction at the Bookshop. It’s coming along nicely, and he has even gotten Bucky to help and learn a few things along the way. “Hey Buck, hand me that saw please.” Bucky grabs it from the table and hands it to Steve but not before tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear and nearly stabbing himself with the pointy end.

“Bucky. You gotta watch out. You’ve been messin’ with your hair all day. What am I supposed to tell y/n when you’re missing an ear?” Bucky chuckles at that but blows over his face to try to get the hair out of it. “It’s gotten so damn annoying. I really want to cut it.” Steve starts sawing, keeping his eyes on his work while he asks, “then why don’t you just get it cut?” Bucky takes his hair out of the bun and tries to smooth it back, sliding the hair tie over his wrist. “Because I’m pretty sure she’ll kill me if I do.”

Neither of them hears you come in over the sawing and their combined chatter. “Who will kill you if you do what, babe?” Bucky’s head shoots up mid hair fixing, and he smiles. Quickly securing it with the elastic he walks over and grabs you up in a big hug, kissing you several times before placing you on your feet. “I brought lunch,” you say holding up the bags with a warm smile.

Steve whoops and takes one bag, sitting himself on the floor and digging in. “So, Bucky thinks if he cuts his hair you’ll freak,” Steve explains through a mouthful of sandwich. Bucky grits his teeth but manages to look you in the eye, “don’t listen to him, I won’t cut it.” Steve flaps his sandwich in your direction. “He has been complaining about it since we started this and today has been the worst.”

You laugh at Steve with his sandwich but when you catch Bucky’s eye again, he looks worried. A loose strand of hair has fallen in front of his face again and he tries to blow it away. It doesn’t work so you tuck it behind his ear and trail your fingers down his jaw, gently combing through his full beard. “Ok, first of all. I wouldn’t freak out. I love your hair but honestly baby, it would be fine if got it cut. You’ll look handsome with any style and I’m not in love with you for your hair you know.”

Steve makes a gagging noise from the floor and Bucky shoots him a death glare. “Are you choking, or do I need to kick your ass?” He swallows his bite and makes a face, “you guys are sickening you know that.” Popping your head over Bucky’s shoulder you point a finger right at him. “Don’t you start sassing me Steve Rogers…I have to deal with you and Peggy through all this wedding planning and I haven’t said a damn word because I love you and I’m happy to be a part of it. So, shut it! Or…I’ll tell Peggy.”

That shuts him up but not before a few more grumbles. He finishes eating and gets back to work, leaving you two to your hair conversation. “Are you sure you don’t care?” You give Bucky a reassuring smile. “I definitely do not. BUT there is one condition.” His eyebrows meet his hairline as he waits. “You cannot shave your beard.” You say it with such authority and seriousness it has him throwing his head back in laughter. “Ok, boss, you got it.”

Throwing your hands up you roll your eyes and smash the bag of lunch into his chest. “Eat! I got your favorite.” Bucky leans against the table and opens the bag, pulling out his lunch and grinning. “Thanks, beautiful, I’m starving!” He eats it fast and gets back to work with Steve. You ask if they need anything else before heading back to work.

Bucky walks you to the back to get your bag but before you can retrieve it, he has you pressed against the bookshelf. “I wish you didn’t have to go back to work.” His thigh parts your legs and pushes against you, earning him a soft moan. “Bucky…don’t tease,” you whisper, closing your eyes when he starts kissing along your neck. He holds you against the bookshelf for a few more minutes, slowly building you up before he pulls away and smirks.

“Better get back to work before you’re late.” You level him with a warning look, forcefully pulling your bag over your shoulder. “Oh, you’re so dead, Barnes. Two can play at this game.” With that you stalk off, yelling bye to Steve on the way out. “Hey babe, wait,” Bucky calls after you, stopping in his tracks when you turn and glare. “Um, I’m gonna try to make my hair appointment for after work. Just wanted to let you know.” With a twinkle in your eye you give him a thumbs up, “sounds good baby, see you tonight.”

The rest of the day flies by as you push through e-mails for work as well as e-mails regarding the new baking equipment that has to be delivered next week. You’re going to set yourself up with a small kitchen in the back area so everything can be freshly baked at the shop. Bucky is also getting a state-of-the-art coffee machine and all the necessary accessories.

You and Bucky continue you to tease each other over text and when you finally get home, you’re exhausted but completely riled up at the same time.  Deciding a bath might help you relax you fill the tub with hot water and get in, sinking down to your neck and letting out a deep breath. Not long after you hear the sound of the door and Bucky’s voice calling from down the hall.

“I’m in here Buck!” Your eyes are closed so when he first walks in you don’t look up. He kneels down near the tub and brushes his hand over your cheek. “You look soft and relaxed,” he whispers. You hum and turn your head, slowly opening your eyes. With a gasp you sit up, sloshing water out onto the floor. “Oh Bucky. WOW.” He looks concerned and asks, “like a good wow or oh no this is bad wow.”

Instead of answering him you stand up and reach for your towel. His gaze roams over your wet body and he adjusts himself in his jeans. “I’ve been thinking about this all day, you’re not helping, and you didn’t answer my question.” Stepping out of the bath with the help of his hand you wrap the towel around you and look him over again.

“That was a good wow. A very good wow.” Taking your hand, you comb it through his short but fluffy locks. They are silky soft and still long enough to tug which you do, and he moans. “I love it. I love it so much.” Pressing yourself against him you let the towel fall to the floor, placing kisses up his neck and over his beard. “You know, I had this whole plan to put on some lingerie and tease you…give you a taste of your own medicine, but now…” You trail off when your lips find his and you cling to his biceps to steady yourself.

He pulls away, breathing against your lips, “and now?” Your hands are in his hair and your lips brush over his jaw. “Now I can’t wait another minute. I need you.” With those words he lifts you into his arms and takes you to bed, making up for all the teasing and more.

When you wake the next morning, you’re tired and sore but in the most satisfied way. Thankful it’s Friday you take your time getting ready for work, periodically breaking to watch Bucky sleep. His hair is tousled from your hands last night and the morning light catches some of the lighter strands, reminding you of caramel.  You really like this new look.

Once you’re ready to leave you round the bed to give sleeping beauty a kiss. His eyes flutter open when your lips press to his and his hand wraps around the back of your neck. Before he can drag you back into bed you pull away, tracing your fingers over his mouth. “I love you.” His soft smile fades when he closes his eyes again, kissing your hand and murmuring, “I love you,” before his gentle breathing is all you hear.

You stay seated on the edge of the bed for a few more moments, running your fingers through his hair and just admiring how handsome he is. When you finally make it out of the apartment you have to haul ass to make it to work on time, sitting down just as your phone rings. It’s Tony. He wants to discuss setting a date for the re-opening of the bookshop. You update him on the construction and delivery schedule and agree to meet early next week to figure it out.

Nat and Peggy come over later that night and the three of you work on wedding things. Peggy asked you to make the wedding cake and you’re terrified but of course you said yes. So, you spend the evening talking about the boys, trying some cake flavors you baked and looking at wedding dresses on Pinterest. Sam and Bucky are working the bar tonight and Steve is there hanging out, so you keep getting silly pictures of the three of them in a group text.

“Bucky looks pretty amazing with that new haircut,” Peggy comments, looking at the newest photo they sent, “and I wish Steve would let his beard grow out!” Your grin turns devious under your wine glass, “have you told him that?” Peggy smirks, giving you a sideways glance. “Not in those simple words.” Placing your glass down you lean in close as if Bucky is near enough to hear, “we’ve been so busy right, so shaving wasn’t really something Bucky wanted to do regularly because it’s a pain in the ass so his beard kept getting more full and I love it…you know.”

Nat looks at you expectantly and Peggy just looks confused. When your silent for another minute they both shout, “you know what???” Standing up you cover your mouth to stop your giggles and put your hands on your hips, “I can’t believe you aren’t catching my drift here.” They give each other a look then glare at you. “But you haven’t said anything except he didn’t feel like shaving much, so his beard got full,” Peggy states with a hmpf.

Nat’s eyes begin to narrow as she pieces it together. “Oh my god! You mean you like it between your legs, don’t you? You couldn’t have just said that?” She throws a crumpled napkin at your head and you all burst into laughter. Peggy grabs her phone and types a mile a minute, squealing when she sets it down. “I just text Steve and told him I want him to grow a beard so I can feel it between my legs…” You hear your phone chime and suck in a breath. “Did you send it just to Steve or to ALL of us?” Peggy pales, taking her phone and checking the message. “OH MY GOD!”

Next week…

After a very long but productive meeting with Tony you all decide that you should be ready to reopen on September 22nd. It’s the official first day of fall and a perfect way to launch into all the pumpkin spice and fall goodies you have planned. This gives you just about 4 full weeks to bring it all together. You’re sitting on the couch going over a list of what you want to serve at the opening when Bucky walks in after a shower. His long fingers comb over his beard as he watches you. “I still can’t believe Peg sent that text. I’m still laughing.”

“Oh, me too, I nearly peed my pants when it happened. And now that Steve is growing out his beard, we can endlessly tease him!” Silence descends and you feel the couch dip when he sits, drawing your attention from the list. “Hi.” Leaning forward you kiss his cheek and sit yourself in his lap. “Wanna see my list so far?” He wraps his arms around you and leans his head on your shoulder. “Of course. Do I get to taste test all of these?”

Counting down your list you have 8 treats, none of which he has eaten yet. “Oh definitely, I’m going to be doing a lot of baking the next couple of weeks. I can bring them to the bar for Sam and everyone to try too.” With his face in your neck Bucky hums his agreement. “You know what I think I’m most excited about,” he says, tickling you with his beard. “What?” you laugh, turning to meet his eyes. “For Grandma to see it all.”

@aesthetical-bucky​ @auro-ora​ @bugsbucky​ @buckys-broody-muffin​ @buckys-henley​ @buckys-minty-breath​ @book-dragon-13​ @bucky-on-my-mind​ @eurynome827​ @hiddles-rose​ @ikaris-whore​ @itsunclebucky​ @imgaril-lindru​ @jhangelface0523​ @jewels2876​ @kaosera​ @loricameback​ @lorilane33​ @littledarlinhavefaithinme​ @littleredstarfish​ @breezy1415​ @mushyjellybeans​ @marvelandotherfandomimagines​ @marvelgirl7​ @nano--raptor​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @randomfandompenguin​ @sallycanwait68​ @softpeachbarnes​ @tuiccim​ @the-wayward-robot​ @yansi1923​ @hiddles-rose​ @hailmary-yramliah​ @hawksmagnolia​ @flyawaybay​ @throwmyheartawayagain​ @amandatar-06​ @nd1998sc​ @captainchrisstan​ @vherriepie​ @godofplumsandthunder​ @when-the-hell-is-bucky​ @fire-flv​ @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​ @irishflutiegirl​ @rinthehufflepuff​ @moonybarnes​ @nordlysinthewoods​ @scarletsoldierrr​ @inflxmes @lauratang​ @my-favorite-fics-and-imagines​ @buchanansebba​ @emilylyoness​ @curlyred2020 @addikted-2-dopamine​ @lady-pswrld​ @lookiamtrying​ @tales-of-spring​ @lokilvrr​ @mishaandthebrits​

[redsunsetxiii]

**Please do not repost without credit** [TRANS] 2021.06.28 SONE NOTE LIVE vol 32 with Yoona

Staff: The plan this time is photoshoots in various situations! This is a first for SONE JAPAN, so how was it?

Yoona: I felt like it was a time to be able to meet SONE JAPAN. It’s different from the previous experiences as I felt like I could tell everyone about what’s happening with me recently, and I had a lot of fun! I’d be happy if everyone enjoys this SONE NOTE LIVE.

Staff: What do you usually think about during a photoshoot? Please share if there’s anything that you were conscious of when you were shooting.

Yoona: Above all, I paid attention to match the concept well while taking photos. Of course, I want to show everyone a beautiful appearance so I also paid attention to my hair and makeup!

Staff: You shot in several different situations and moods. Do you have a favorite scene that you want SONE JAPAN to see? Please share why as well.

Yoona: Instead of “pay attention to this scene”, I hope you can sense my expression and feelings (laughs).

Staff: How did you spend your time while waiting for the scene switchovers and camera settings changes?

Yoona: I’d talk with the staff, listen to music, search the internet and the like while waiting♪

Staff: I believe you do many photoshoots like this one, but is there anything you take care of on a daily basis to maintain your good looks and style?

Yoona: I often cleanse and moisturize, and take half body baths. I also do my nails and use hair packs which are essential for women’s self improvement! 

Staff: If there is another chance for a photoshoot for SONE NOTE LIVE, what scenes and situations would you like to try out?

Yoona: I’d like to try a photoshoot with my dog, Rae-O~♡

Staff: If you were to have a photoshoot with the members, what kind of situation would you like to shoot? Please share why as well.

Yoona: Since the members are also adults, how about a photoshoot with a natural atmosphere of us drinking? (laughs)

Staff: Last year, you opened your official YouTube channel, “Yoona’s So Wonderful Day”. Do you have a favorite video?

Yoona: It’s my official space, but it’s a space established for all the fans. I’d be happy if SONE enjoy it! Through this channel, I’d like to let all the fans know about my recent happenings♡ The haircut video was popular (laughs).

Staff: You played an intern reporter in the recent drama, HUSH, that aired in Korea. Was there anything that was difficult in creating the role? Also, please share if there was a memorable scene for you.

Yoona: She’s a character that I’ve never played before and I wasn’t used to her vocalizations and the like, so it was difficult. It was a good experience. Everything was memorable, but the scene with beef bone soup was especially unforgettable! (Ending of Episode 5)

Staff: Last year in August, SNSD had their 10th anniversary in Japan. Looking back at these 10 years, please share any memorable events or episodes and the reasons why.

Yoona: I always say this, but for Japan activities, the tours were the most memorable. This isn’t just for Japan, but as SNSD, [the tours] are memories I can count on one hand. Also, going to onsen and amusement parks with the members while on tour were also really memorable! 

Staff: Is there anything that you think has changed for you during these 10 years, and is there anything that hasn’t changed?

Yoona: As for what’s changed, I feel a little more relaxed, probably thanks to my experiences. As for what hasn’t changed, I am SNSD and actress Im Yoona. 

Staff: If you could go back anytime in the past 10 years, how many years ago would you go back? Please share the reason as well. 

Yoona: I was able to meet SONE in various countries by touring, so if it’s possible I’d like to go back to that time. Recently, I can’t go abroad and I want to meet all SONE because I can’t right now.

Staff: Is there anything that the Yoona now would like to say to the Yoona of 10 years ago?

Yoona: I believe there’s that pressure that you have to have a good result for everything, but you don’t have to torment yourself too much. Always do your best and you’ll be fine~ Just like it always has~

Staff: Do you have any goals or anything new that you want to try out? Please share why as well.

Yoona: I want to learn how to cook and get into the habit of exercising, but it’s difficult... 

Staff: Finally a message for SONE JAPAN, please!

Yoona: My irreplaceable SONE JAPAN♡ I’m always thinking about you and I’m also waiting for the day we can meet again~! We’ll walk together forever! Take care of yourselves. Right now it’s Girls’ Generation In the future it’s Girls’ Generation Forever it’s Girls’ Generation I love SONE♡

Translation by RedSunsetXIII source: SONE JAPAN website **Please do not repost without credit**

[aggresivelyfriendly]

Tis the Damn Season

Chapter Five- Santa Baby

Hello, I took a couple weeks, because life can be busy, and mine is changing, but here is a little 🎁!

Thanks to @dirtystyles, she’s the real gift!

"What are you wearing?"

"I'm sorry, but what?"

 It was all she could think to say. Emma hadn't heard from Harry in months. In August he had sent her a random picture of him in a collar with long hair. She knew he had chopped his hair months ago, it had caused an internet flurry and was one of the few times he'd emerged from hibernation. She might be miffed that his year-off apparently didn't include visiting her. Not that she had asked him to.

She'd never ask.

Emma might also be incredibly miffed that he had cut off his glorious hair. She'd rocked herself to sleep many a night thinking of the way it felt trailing ver her chest, then stomach, in the crevice of her thigh. The crunch and silk of it between her fingers when she got it between her fingers at the end of that path or when he was rocking her to sleep.

Thinking about his hair usually made her hot for him, and thinking of it gone made her nostalgic, and a little mad. And that was when the memory was fresh and jot months old.

In any case, she wasn't feeling very soft for him, and that was a sexy question. She definitely wasn't feeling wet for him.

She had just walked out of class on a freezing cold day before she was ready for it to be this chilly, and she had to ride her bike. Her class was on individual contribution to global crises. Emma was the first to point out that individuals were not the true climate change culprits, but every bit helped. She just wished she'd ridden one of the clean energy buses today. Today sucked.

"Your teeth are chattering Emma, you outside?" she made an affirmative sound and he wisely knew better than to wait for an answer after that. He'd set up this mood, after all. "Sorry, came out wrong, it was meant to be funny." Harry had an apology in his voice. It was like the first knead of a dough, but he had a long way to go. "Anyway, what I meant is, I'm Christmas shopping, and I was thinking about what you might like, was gonna get you a jumper, and I think I have an idea of your style, but wanted a little guidance, I'd hate to buy you something and have you hate it—"

"Harry, take a breath!" She could feel that smile he had a way of bringing to her lips, despite herself. She really wanted to be upset with him, but seemed he'd proved himself, or distracted her at least.

Emma can't quite get a full grasp on why she's irritated with the phone call with him.  She's not sure what she expected. They never had a conversation about it, about how they are just a little holiday fling. She's never even had a summer fling, so she doesn't know the rules but she assumes that they are not supposed to repeat year on year. Least not without some progress or a defining conversation where they decided on not a relationship. He was confusing. He'd been so happy to have a bit of extra time with her, she'd thought he might be in touch more, with his seemingly abundant free time. She's wanted him to be in touch more. But he hadn't.

She'd heard from him less than ever.

And now he was buying her gifts and making her smile. Damn him.

"I'm breathing, promise." He sighed. "I just could tell I'd pissed you off, and I don't want to. I've been thinking about Christmas, and well, I'm excited."

"I'm excited too. Holidays are exciting." Emma is not going to read into that. He's excited to be with his family. He's Christmas shopping for everyone. This is not about her, them.

There is no them.

There is no them, except between Christmas Eve and New Years. And that is purely physical.

These are the things she repeated to herself when she was sad, waiting for him to call or text. Sad from how he dragged himself from their pub bed saying he'd miss her and be in touch and then wasn't. His sweet nothings were like when people signed your yearbook K.I.T. She knew you weren't supposed to take those yearbook signings seriously, but he'd said it, not written it below some picture of him. That counted more, right? Than a picture? Those were cheap, especially of him; there were pictures of him everywhere, Emma was also upset that none of them looked like the real life him. Just a shade of his actual beauty.

She wanted to see him now. She missed him though she shouldn't.

Just over a month now until Christmas. And a busy one at that. She had so much data to sift through from the summer and a presentation she was basing on it was her culminating project. It would also make an early start on her field work come summer. Those things, academic, important things were her focused her life's work. Not delicious Harry Styles and his sweet holiday nothings.

"Yes, especially when I get my favorite for Christmas." Harry said bringing her back to the call they were on.

The meaning behind those words were a bit harder to ignore. All she could get out was "Oh?" Then she rolled her eyes at herself and cleared her throat and said, "Your mum's Christmas cake?"

He chuckled. "I am fond of that cake, I think I put on two stone last year from how much I ate. And she sent me home with one!"

Emma almost called bullshit on that. He'd expended all those calories, she'd been the apparatus.

She took a breath to speak, and he cut her off. "I don't mean the cake, anyway, I mean you: you're my favorite thing to have at Christmas. The best gift."

What was she supposed to say to that? Another eloquent oh? Instead she said, "Your favorite thing?" Playful offense on the word thing.

"Oh hush." He laughed. "You're my favorite, Emma. In case you want to be obtuse and miss my point. I'm very excited to see you."

She breathed in. All she could manage to reply with was "Me too."

She meant it, but as they got off the phone after setting up their usual tryst and a special meeting before the party to exchange gifts, she couldn't help but wonder if he did. If what he said was true, why the radio silence?

The gift on her lap on the train was large and ostentatious. She didn't have a ton of money for the it, student life, but her recipient was a millionaire, so she'd gone all out on the wrapping paper.

It was a frog in a Christmas hat, the motif on the paper. Emma remembered when she and Gemma had called Harry "frog boy" and he'd been mortified. But it had also found its way into their private rooms. Not when he was inside her, that would be weird, but when he looked up at her and grinned, all dimples and no teeth from where he likes to make her stomach a pillow.

How "Froggy" had become a term of endearment, she didn't know. The moment she'd seen the cute froggy in his holiday rig on the overpriced paper, she had stopped what she was doing, parked her bike with no lock, and popped in the shop.

She then had to find something to put in the paper. He'd been shopping for her this year, in October, and he'd said he was at the shop and she'd seen pictures of him hauling bags out of Gucci. That was not intimidating at all.

They had exchanged small things in years past. Harry had started it, he'd given a cookbook a friend recommended the year she went vegan. Then the next year he'd donated in her name to a clean air initiative. She'd just picked up odds and ends she thought he'd like, like a 100% recycled journal one year and a glass bottle set for his gym runs the next.

This year, she'd racked her brain, but she'd eventually found the perfect gift to fill her frog paper. She was getting better at this. He was entirely too good at it, and he was a quick learner. She'd been underwhelmed with the flowers he sent the first year and had explained that cut flowers made her sad. It seemed a waste to kill something for its fleeting beauty. Harry had nodded thoughtfully.

The next flower he sent was a gorgeous orchid, it arrived once she was back in Amsterdam and came with instructions. That first orchid had started a trend and between his gifts and her own new interest, her flat was looking very jungle esque.

Emma was always very excited to see him, but this year, after his call, there was more anticipation and preparation. If he was going to be ready for her, she would be ready for him.

She got a fresh haircut and trimmed her bush. The thrift store was kind to her, and her new Christmas jumper was perhaps less ugly than flattering, but that was ok with her. She particularly liked the way it lay over the skirt she'd planned to wear to the Twist's annual todo.

Her flights had been uneventful and her mother was elated and doting. Emma found it much more tolerable this year. Maybe she was just in the spirit, or maybe she'd been away from the village and her family long enough to actually miss them.

She definitely missed Harry.

He, predictably, had texted that his flight was delayed and he was trying to make arrangements, but he might not even make it in time for the party.

"I'm doing everything in my power to get there tonight. If I can't make my mother's party, but arrive tonight, can we meet? I'll call the inn."

"Yes." Was all she texted back. She found she was mourning their kiss beneath the mistletoe, and that he might miss her outfit. But Harry's power was considerable, and she had no doubt he would be at the Boar's Head in time to see what she planned to wear under the sweater.

Those pieces, she felt a twinge guilty about. They were pricey and definitely not second hand. Used pants were where she drew the line.

People, not Emma, bemoaned Harry's absence when those who still lived local or were able to travel home gathered for toast. Emma knew she wasn't the only one who came home partially to see Harry. It was why she was able to fly under Gem's radar, hopefully.

Gemma's only comment was, "He'll be here when he can." When Eloise asked where Harry was. She asked every year, it annoyed Gem, and took some of the heat off Emma. Eloise was so obvious, Gemma could direct some of her protective big sister vibes that way.

The night was winding down and Emma's third glass of champagne could use topping up. She'd just sidled into the kitchen to pop another bottle when a pair of arms came around her from behind.

She'd have dropped the bottle too if Harry had not pulled the most uncharacteristicly smooth and agile catch he'd ever made, whilst dipping her for a swoon worthy kiss.

"Harry!" Emma gasped, "What are you doing?" Her Hand went to find his hair, and she was sad to find it until she found his sharp, bare jaw instead. It cut through her nostalgia and she was able to appreciate his face on a new way. His lips.

"Getting my midnight kiss!"

"It's not New Year's." It was better, like new year's and her birthday combined, that kiss.

"Not yet!" He righted her but stayed wrapped around her while she popped the bottle. She poured him a glass too and had to refrain from holding his hand when she pulled him into the living room after they toasted.

He stole a kiss before they went to join the others.

It looked like his arrival was going to renew the party spirit, but he begged off as tired, and disappeared to his room by 1:30.

Emma wasn't sure what to do, or where to go, so she just slipped out the back at 2:00 when a car nearly gave her heart palpitations by pulling up right in front of her. The door popped open and Harry stuck his head out. "Cmon, it's our getaway car!"

She couldn't help but shake her head. "You disappeared and I didn't know what you wanted to do."

"Well, you obviously!" He giggled, high off the champagne and his conniving. "C'mon! We don't have that long. I wanna do Christmas morning with you!"

"It's still nighttime." Emma pointed out.

"Don't worry, we'll find something to do until the sun comes up." He looked up at her through his lashes and she couldn't help but bite her lips.

"What's the rush, Styles?" Emma asked as she climbed into the car. The driver seemed unconcerned and headed down the familiar lanes of a familiar place.

"No rush, I'm just excited and have to be back so I can sneak in for Christmas brunch."

"Oh." She knew that, it wasn't the first time.

"Not 'oh,' I want to give you your gifts on actual Christmas."

"Are you Santa Claus?" She teased as he pulled her into his chest.

"If that's what you're into? I'll be whoever you want me to be."

"Then just be you." She said with painful earnestness before she could stop herself.

Harry looked down at her in the cradle of his armpit and put his forehead to hers and gave her an Eskimo kiss. "As long as you're you."

Emma melted and if she hadn't been so tired and a little too drunk on bubbly she wouldn't have fallen asleep on the way to the Boar's Head.

"Baby," Harry whispered into her hair. "Wake up, we're here."

"I can't believe I fell asleep that fast."

"It's my voice, I've been told it has a sedative power."

"Sleepy is not usually how your voice makes me feel." What truth serum had she taken tonight?

"Well, I'll have to talk a lot to keep you up then. Hope you're refreshed after your little nap."

She was, and he kept her up but by 5:00, even his deep voice and other powers of persuasion couldn't keep her leaden lids open.

"Baby! Emma." Harry was kissing her awake and holding out a shirt for her slip on while slipping socks up her calves. "Present time."

"Ok, Santa baby." She yawned and let him drag her into the room where she had completely missed the tiny Charlie Brown tree in the corner. "Oh! You went all out." She looked at him in awe when she noticed the multicolored packages under the tree. "I only got you one thing," she was rubbing sleep out of her eyes and too tired to bullshit. "I'm feeling inadequate."

"Nah, I've heard it's better to give than receive."

"That's not what you said a couple hours ago."

"I'll give gifts if you give head." They both scrunched their brows. "Scratch the part where I made it sound like you were my sugar baby."

"Or a prostitute."She raised an arch brow.

"Nah, I couldn't afford you." He didn't even smirk.

So she responded, "I think you think that's a compliment."

He snort laughed and she couldn't help but smile with him. "I mean, you do it well enough to be paid for it, but by the face you're making I better quit talking and get to the spoiling to get myself out of trouble. Go on, open a present."

"Any order you envisioned."

"Um? No, the one where order matters I have a plan for."

"This isn't all?"

"This is most." He nodded and she felt a warm place under her breast that only ignited when he was being domestic.

Back in her old room in her childhood home, or in her flat in Amsterdam, she'd occasionally puzzle over these moments. They felt nothing short of boyfriendy, and she loved it. When she thought back on them, especially in the cold January days, they kept her warm and made her feel special. She hadn't ever felt that warm flush in her chest with anybody but Harry. She'd kind of avoided the feeling, usually.

By July, after long periods of silence where he was running around the world while she endeavored to save it, the glow of those days paled in the midnight sun. When he acted like a boyfriend, like they were more than a hookup and then ignored her, it hurt. When she was well into her yearly drought, and all she had were those shooting stars to wish upon, the sweeter he was, the more rich the ache, the aftertaste saccharine.

Emma could tell, his gifts and the joy he seemed to take in giving them would warm her to the backbone through January, and make her teeth hurt by July.

And still she couldn't convince herself to stop, to ask, to protect herself. She couldn't even detach a little, she was so excited about the little stuffed animal she had for him in return.

"Harry, this is beautiful!" She unfolded a gorgeous sweater dress of a fine wool knit that screamed warm.

"Yeah?" He smiled, pleaded with the praise and himself. "I was at Gucci, and I was gonna get you some stuff there, but they just didn't feel like you, so I started doing some research on sustainable brands and I found this one, and another. This one is good for day to day, it's called Ever Lane, and the next, Bode, it's great for retro pieces. Open the next one."

She'd been staring at him. He was going to buy her Gucci? This was better, but that seemed like a pretty penny to spend on your holiday hook up. She knew money wasn't really an object for him. He always paid for the hotel on their rendezvous and she never brought it up. It was always just taken care of. She wasn't a starving student, but she also wasn't an international pop star. These gifts felt big, bigger than what they were.

He liked to be generous. But, it felt like these gifts, the 5 packages and one coming later were a statement in a language she didn't understand.

"Harry, this is too much." Was all she could say. He didn't respond with words, just gave her a look and shrugged his shoulders like, 'what else am I supposed to do with it'.

Emma knew from Gemma that Harry took care of them, their vehicles and his mum's house and whatever they mentioned they wanted or he thought they'd like.

Gemma had said last year, when she was thrilling over her Christmas gifts, "It's the one time of year I let him get away with it. The rest of the time I've gotten to where I don't mention things I like or want, because they show up on my doorstep, you know?"

Emma had nodded even though she didn't know, but she did now. He was so thoughtful it hurt, but the implications troubled her.

"Open the next one. I'm really excited for it."

It was a beautiful jacket, mustard, her favorite color, and matching mittens.

"For when you want to ride your bike, but it's chilly. They're very warm." He remembered she was cold on her bike that day.

Emma knew he remembered her text after the 'what are you wearing' conversation about being grumpy because she had chosen to ride her bike but it was too cold. His big beating heart could melt snow.

She swallowed down the sentiments clogging her throat along with her worries. Should she ask? She'd have too, eventually. This was feeling more serious than it should be, like he wanted to call her babe for more than a weekend, like he wanted her to stay, with him.

It's what she wanted, in some part of her, but was completely out of the question. He had a big international life, and she had her own global ambition.

The rest was wrapped donation cards to causes she'd worked for or even mentioned. The last gift was a small box, and when she opened it, she cried, then laughed and handed him his box.

"What?" He said, "I can't tell if you're happy or sad about that gift?" He worries his bottom lip.

It was another frog, just like the one she'd picked as the tangible gift when she'd made the donation in his name.

Emma just shrugged and wiped her eyes. "Open it."

His bursting balloon laugh inflated her merry heart. "Did we really do the exact same thing?" His face had an odd look she could only call tender.

"Same wavelength, me and you." He was misty like she had been a moment ago. He leaned forward and kissed her. Then picked up their stuffed frogs and made them kiss like he was a small child playing dolls. "I almost don't want to separate them."

"Are we still talking about the frogs?" She laughed, because she had a feeling they weren't.

He shrugged and his phone began to buzz. "Can I take a rain check on answering that question? If I don't leave right now, they will know I stayed out all night on Christmas Eve, and there will be questions. I don't think we are quite ready to explain what we are." He chose that moment to yawn like a lion in the late afternoon after a long day of lounging and got up to leave.

Emma still had questions.He'd said not quite ready to explain what they were doing. Emma wasn't even sure what they were doing. Were they going to tell people, tell Gemma? Tell them what? That they were together? Wanted to be together? Belonged together. The frogs too, did the frogs belong together?

He was dressed by the time she was done freaking out. He looked tired, but exhilarated, like he'd spent a night getting everything he wanted and a few things he didn't know he needed. "Bye doll," he kissed her, right on the mouth, affectionately and with only a trace of the heat the December air lacked. "I'll see you tomorrow night. Merry Christmas! I wanna see you in the sweater," he was walking through the door. "Oh, and the other thing?"

"Other thing?" She looked at him confused.

He pointed underneath the tree. "Have another look."

Emma blushed when she opened the lingerie. She wondered if he'd had to check her pants and bras for sizes or if he just knew the shape of her well enough that he'd guessed accurately.

They looked really good.

She needed to be getting home as well. There would be no getting out of it, she needed an excuse for rolling in just in time for Christmas brunch, her parents were notorious early risers, as was she. Her plan was to tell them she'd just made too merry the night before and slept on the couch at the Twist's. It was truth adjacent. It was the best she could come up with, her head was full of Harry and she couldn't think.

Her Christmas passed in a blur of food and wine and wrapping paper. Harry had sent her a picture of him with a bow on his head and asked her if she felt spoiled enough or needed him to wear the bow the next day.

She'd told him to wear it. And only it.

She'd not expected him to follow directions both precisely and with some creative license.

"Do you really think your cock is a gift?" She tried to mock him, while he stood proudly, hips first in their room at the Boat's Head.

"Well, I intend to give it to you!" He raised his eyebrows and stalked toward her. "I like the sweater. Looks amazing, but? Probably better here." He swept it over her head and deposited it on the floor.

"That was atrocious!" She giggled, but felt no anxiety unlike the last day or so.

"Yeah, maybe, but I needed to see if you'd worn my other gift."

"I thought it was my gift."

"For both of us, I'd argue." He winked.

"You wink like a drunk pirate." She couldn't help but smile at him. His silly banter had completely removed the nerves she should be feeling, standing in front of him in a Santa red bra, panties, garter belt, and stockings. She'd sourced the Santa hat herself and the black heels were hers.

"I'm feeling drunk seeing you in this." His hands were running over the satin on her hips and the lace at her waist, then the bare flesh of her ass. "I think I even lied to myself. This was definitely my present." The last word was said against her lips and his big hands slid down the globes of her backside to between her thighs, hoisting her onto his hips. The trail his thumbs left had her shivering.

The bed rose up to meet her. Harry hovered over her before standing and staring.

"Are we on pause?" She was panting and really hoping they were not stopping let alone slowing.

He opened his hands like a director, "I'm just trying to remember this to keep me warm all year." He ran his hands from her toes to her curled hair, she'd gone all out, then back down. His face was full of anticipation and a hesitation she'd never seen when she was this bare, not even the first time when he was flush on bravado and international acclaim.

"What is it?" She started to sit up.

He groaned. "Wow, that move did great things for your chest."

Emma could only laugh. He was acting like he'd never seen a naked woman, when he'd probably seen more than his fair share, and had definitely seen her before.

"You're acting like you've never seen me before."

"It's always like the first time. You're overwhelming."

"I'm overwhelming?" She wanted to laugh, she saw him as Harry, at first her friend's brother, then the cute boy with the big career she'd hooked up with, then her favorite holiday surprise, and now she couldn't define exactly what he was to her, mostly Harry? Who she missed all year and cherished for a week at a time in person, a deeply in her heart the rest of the time. She remained aware, however, of who he was, at large.

"Absolutely, I can barely take you. Can't believe I get to have you." What did she say to that? She only nodded, it was mutual. "Listen," he continued, "Can I take a picture of you. I'll keep your face out of it."

She thought for a moment, thrilled that he wanted to save this memory, to relive this moment until they met again. She didn't have any pictures of him, and thought there were so many online, none of them were really of him. "Yeah, go on Harry."

Maybe she should take one back. Save the neck down one place and the neck up as her wallpaper, she could get away with it. She saw classmates with him as their Home Screen. Her plans kept the nerves at bay while he got his set up ready.

He posed a leg, had her lay back, and then sit up. He took about 5 pictures on his phone, then three Polaroids, and by then she was getting into it. She was moving in ways that made her feel sexy and he was getting antsy.

"I'll show you, so you can approve, after." He discarded the phone and pulled his jumper over his head before crawling up the bed and over her.

"I trust you Harry. It's fine."

She wasn't sure what it was about those words, but he grew, thicker between her thighs and larger in her presence before he was kissing her bra off and asking if he could leave the stockings and shoes on.

"'Mmmhmmm." Emma moaned from her perch on the pillows looking down watching him pull her panties free and reattaching her stockings. "Damn." He kissed both places and flipped her over to skate his lips up her thighs and ass and back. Her hair was over her face while he kissed her neck and rutted into her with his jeans still on. She grabbed a handful of his glorious hair and kissed him over her shoulder. "Like this?" She asked.

"Mmhmmm." He echoed and she felt him kicking his jeggings free and sliding on the condom. She was flat on the mattress and unsure if he wanted her to push back on her knees. She didn't need to think about it long, he hoisted her up, and pressed a gentle hand between her shoulder blades so her body arched like a slide. His fingers climbed up to cascade down her backbone in an echo of the ride he was about to take down. He was right there, hovering, and Emma pushed back, but the whine in her voice was the more obvious tell.

"Baby, I need you."

"I need you, so much. Miss you when I'm gone."

She missed him when she was gone too. He slid his head in and waited. Emma wasn't really in control of the clenching this caused and it made Harry lose his grip on his. The smack of his hips against her thighs reverberated off the borrowed walls they considered their own.

He stroked her inside out and commented on the grip of her onto his dick. "It's like you don't want to let me go," he whispered into her ear.

Emma turned her head and breathed, "I don't want to." The kiss broke his rhythm and lingered until her clenching started over, again. How was she so close so soon?

"No, no, no." She whined when he pulled out.

"Shhhh, I've got you." He knew she was onto something, they'd become practiced hands at each other's pleasure.

He flipped her over and smoothed her hair back, bracketing her face between his hands like an aside he needed to voice right at that moment. "I just want to see you."

He went back in with ease, and with anybody else she might be ashamed for how embarrassingly wet she was, for the squelch. "God! Harry!" Her thighs came up to his hips and he hitched one over his elbow and open, then lay a good portion of his weight onto her. It was just the right side of too much. Just like all of him.

"Let me find it again, that high you were chasing?"

She was nodding, babbling. He picked up the rhythm from before and added a tiny rut at the end to the swelling of her clit. She was back on the trail to the summit quickly. It had been good, if fumbling, from night one. By this gift season, it was like he had installed all of her buttons personally and could push her to the edge at will. Her eyes were closed and she was concentrating hard on the oasis just beyond her horizon.

"Baby," he whispered, his breath soft and scented like her lip balm. "Open your eyes." He was just over her and he wrapped her open thigh back and around his knee. "Watch me," he made a c with his body so she could watch the goings on and feel them too.

"Oh, fuck."

"I love your filthy mouth. When you get going. Demure driven Emma on the brink has a dirty dirty mouth."

She'd narrow her eyes at him if she could bear to look away from his cock.

"Baby!" She gasped.

"Hold it, stay, just a little longer." He kissed her and then compelled her eyes to his. "I'll come with you."

His nose touched hers at just the tip and he rocked her and watched as she trembled and held off and pleaded. "Now, now, come now." He grit his teeth in preparation, but he needn't have worried, the minute he commanded it, she obeyed and the body roll of sensation ran from the roots of her hair to the bends of her knees.

He seized and his head fell back, but as soon as he was in command of himself again, his eyes were back on hers. "I love...," he gasped and her mind raced over what the hell he might say. What she wanted to gasp back. It was a bit of a comedown as opposed to a denouement when he filled in, "...having you for Christmas."

He buried his face in her neck and breathed into the nooks and crannies she thought she had kept safe from him.

Which was why it hurt so much when she had to tell him no.

His final gift, complete with an aching grin, had been an open ended ticket. "So you can come to me, with me, on tour."

She knew her brow knotted up like a bundle of discarded yarn. That wasn't the agreement. And she couldn't, couldn't even allow herself to want it. She had her PhD program looming. There was no time to go anywhere this fall.

"Harry, you know I can't."

He looked crestfallen, like this was new information and not why they only got these stolen snowbound days once a year. "Can't or won't?" He was verging on angry and it would piss her off if her heart wasn't so close to fissuring.

Honesty was her only policy, "Both." She handed the ticket back to him.

It ruined their night, the movie they tried to distract themselves with, the goodbye sex they didn't have.

He wasn't even there when she woke up the next morning.

But the tickets were on his pillow with a small note, "Change your mind, please. I'll be seeing you. H."

[yaz-the-spaz]

But I want to know your theory. :(

ok ok i guess i’ll spill…i was kinda hesitant to share just cause i’m still not all that solid in my belief in it myself but basically it seems like maybe ziam has made it a tradition to have some kind of couples trip most years (if not every year) in february ever since 2014…

(btw for future reference this ask is a continuation of this ask re ziam both being publicly in vegas earlier this year)

ugh sorry guys! hit enter by accident and posted this wayyyy before i was anywhere near finished lol…this will be updated within the hour (if it doesn’t take me too long to get my thoughts out)

narrator: she did not finish it within the hour.

…

ok so part of the reason i’ve been hesitant to share this is because a good portion of it is VERY speculative and just based on a lot of guesswork and assumptions, but also there’s the fact that it feels like this is something major that more people in the fandom (or at least someone, other than little ass me lol) would have noticed before now and it kind of freaks me out that maybe no one else has?? (unless ofc i just haven’t happened to see any other posts there are about it idk)… 

also fyi a lot of what i propose throughout this is heavily based on info from this post just to make sure i remember to site my sources before we get into it lol

alright now onto the actual theory…

SO. all this started with me scrolling through old posts from late 2013/early 2014 and being reminded of the fuckery that was zayn’s bday that year (with the douche canoe crew and everyone pretending like liam was barely there as seemingly some sort of weird over-the-top cover-up)…the same party that seemed kinda like liam’s possible “introduction” to the malik family as more than just zayn’s friend/as his possible significant other. which was also only a month after that suspicious engagement-looking ring first showed up on zayn’s ring finger in december 2013 from bts midnight memories mv footage (and which stayed around as a necklace throughout january 2014 and early febuary 2014 right before the first appearance/debut of the mandala tat in mid feb). 

bts midnight memories mv with the ring in view - dec 2013:

(suspicious?) malik family outing/celebration with the ring in view - dec (or possibly late nov?) 2013:

[putting the rest under the cut cause as per usual with me this got insanely long]

liam and aunt zileh at zayn’s bday party - jan 2014:

liam and one of the little cousins at zayn’s bday party - jan 2014:

then sometime in between late jan and early feb 2014 liam went on a trip to barbados with his whole family (and supposedly also sophia lol more on that later*) while zayn was SUPPOSEDLY still home and steadily “posting” pics of himself at home with various members of his family (with the ring on a necklace clearly visible in the pics lol), anddd as some have also pointed out his hair was suspiciously unchanged in these pics despite his claim of getting a haircut BEFORE most of the pics were posted lol

zayn in family pics with the ring on a necklace - late jan/early feb 2014 (sorry i’m not the one who cropped his fam out lol):

but yet we’re supposed to believe zayn - who had just gotten awarded the asian ambassadorship for the VERY FIRST time - mysteriously (and willingly) MISSED the ceremony on feb. 5th with absolutely no explanation. which…we all know how big a deal that was to him from the way he talked about it and how honored he was when he went in 2015…which begs the question if he was really just home not doing much of anything at the time in 2014 why in the world would he just pass/bail on that HUGE HONOR with no explanation??? mayhaps because he was actually already an ocean away with liam and fam in barbados celebrating his engagement (and getting his own “introduction” to the payne family) and literally COULD NOT ATTEND?

anyway so then, we have him getting the mandala tat around feb 18th 2014 - or at least this is the day he debuted it on his old ig, so the date may be a few days off from when he actually got it - but this still would’ve been shortly after they got back from the barbados trip when he debuted this particular tat (aka another solidification of the engagement??) 

THEN we get the very first ig ziam likes from the famous and beloved aunt zileh (!!!) in this same month (still feb for reference, but she continues steadily and heavily liking stuff all the way through april when she seems to cool down again). fast forward to the 2014 brits at the end of february where we have the infamous moment with 1) ziam giddy as fucking ever, 2) zayn whispering into and practically mawling liam’s neck in public, 3) liam talking about how it was great to “fill each other in” on what they were up to during their break while zayn’s just steady standing there smiling like a loon and then 4) liam still later being like ‘you don’t wanna know’ when asked what he got up to (and zayn still grinning like a fool)

ziam being gross at brits 2014:

so to sum up so far: 1) one of them possibly proposed around nov/dec 2013 (or that’s my best guess anyway based on the evidence lol), 2) then zayn shows up with a suspiciously-engagement-looking ring in dec 2013, 3) then all the weirdness with liam’s attendance at zayn’s bday party a month later (possibly also liam’s formal intro to the malik family), 4) then liam takes his barbados trip with his fam (and supposedly sophia lol*) just a couple weeks later while “zayn” stays home and posts family pics (but is very likely secretly on the trip with liam lol which is also possibly zayn’s formal intro the payne family and a belated celebration of their engagement), 5) and then we get the beginning of aunt zileh’s likes, 6) the debut of zayn’s mandala tat, 7) and the 2014 brits wildness…all in the space of like 3 months. and most of it happening in FEBRUARY. what a wild fucking journey right?

*side note/fun fact: liam and his fam were posting stuff regularly throughout the duration of the barbados vacay but there were literally zero pics of sophia posted from this trip until like dec 2014 or sometime around then when like ONE random pic suddenly surfaced/was posted and lots of ppl had already speculated that sophia was never there in the first place so once this one pic came up that idea got upgraded to people theorizing that they maybe had some of the fam go back a second time later in the year just to stage take photos to retroactively prove/authenticate the narrative that sophia was there lol

but anyway so back to the actual matter at hand - most of that shit happened in february right? specifically the barbados trip (aka the possible engagement celebration trip)…and when i was talking about all this to a friend we realized ZIAMI WAS ALSO IN FEBRUARY. AND SO WAS THIS YEAR’S VEGAS SHIT. AND THEN. AND THEN. My friend did some research and there was apparently this little known/barely talked about article (or at least barely talked about that i’m aware of) about liam taking a TRIP TO THE MALDIVES IN FEBRUARY 2016… which coincidentally (or not lol considering these shady ass hoes) is also around the same time he got his 4 tattoo (I believe this was the first article, or at least one of the first articles, that mentioned the tat’s debut) 

BUT WAIT. 

THE INSANE SHIT DOES NOT END THERE FOLKS.

GUESS WHICH MONTH THE CARTIER BRACELET FIRST DEBUTED?

FUCKING FEBRUARY 2016.

specifically on liam’s wrist in preparation for the 2016 brits (photo posted to his brits stylist’s ig on feb 23rd). and he didn’t take it off till like june.

so. quick timeline:

february 2016 - maldives trip and debut of liam’s 4 tattoo (around feb 21st); debut of cartier bracelet via liam (feb 23rd); (there was also that valentine’s day roses pic liam posted feb 14th of this year which was quite interesting considering he and c hadn’t even been officially announced as a “thing” yet…ofc we know it still got retroactively attributed to her anyway but whatever, we all know who it was really for lol 😏)

february 2017 - i don’t have anything on this year, partly cause i stopped paying as close attention due to heavy ramping up of stunts, although if anyone has more concrete info on this period that hints at anything please do hit me up and i will add it in, but anyway just based on a little light research there does appear to be a good period of inactivity from both of them during this time (as in both of them had quite a bit of time in february where they were pretty inactive on sm, not being papped, and essentially mia and would have potentially had time to go on a private trip) - UPDATE: HOLY SHIT I CANNOT BELIEVE I FORGOT ABOUT THIS BUT THIS IS THE YEAR LIAM SHOWED UP AT THE BRITS WITH THE MOTHERFUCKING 25 ON HIS JACKET AND FUCKED SIMON ALL THE WAY UP BY SWERVING ON HIS UGLY BITCH ASS SPEECH IN FRONT OF GOD AND ENTIRE WORLD (and i think also thanked zayn in his speech if i’m not mixing that up with another year??) - all on feb 23rd to be specific.

february 2018 - ZIAMI OBVIOUSLY (which specifically started feb 22nd, or at least that’s the day i’m counting it as ‘started’ cause it’s the day liam joined zayn in miami, can’t recall the exact day zayn arrived but pretty sure it was only a couple days before that)

february 2019 - zayn starts wearing this distinctive fishhook earring in all his ig pics, which on the surface seems like a pretty small thing, but quite possibly commemorates their famous august 2014 fishing trip (directly after which he also started wearing a fish hook pendant on a necklace back in 2014); this was also another period they were pretty quiet/mia as far as i can recall, although again if anybody has more concrete info from this time that could point to something please let me know, but anyway point being they again would have had a good chunk of time to possibly go on a private trip together

february 2020 - VEGAS BABY

ofc i’m sure you all will notice one year was left out - february 2015 they were on tour with no breaks coming anytime soon so they obviously weren’t able to go on a trip that year. BUT. february 14th 2015 (aka valentine’s day lol) is also the day liam was famously papped with some small shopping bags that looked suspiciously but precisely like the type that usually come from a jewelry store, and then later that same night they had a performance (for otra tour) where we have zayn pictured wearing a new gold bracelet (as in he hadn’t been seen wearing it ever before on tour or anywhere else) - btw the op of this linked post actually marks this day as the debut of the cartier bracelet but there’s a lot of counter speculation that it’s not and given that it doesn’t quite look like the cartier bracelet looked in later pics (it’s more round and more gold than the cartier bracelet which imo looks more angular and more kind of a two-tone/silvery-gold than this vday bracelet) i’m inclined to lean more towards it just being a regular but still very sweet vday-gifted bracelet. but anyway back to more important stuff. now considering this was literally just a little over a month before zayn left - and one of my theories for zayn leaving was that it was possible he felt it was the only way to save his relationship with liam…i mean if they were still giving each other vday presents they were clearly still VERY in love at this point. like that’s not the kind of thing you’d expect from a couple that was on the rocks and on the verge of breaking up and i know a lot of ppl (myself included for a brief minute) speculated that zayn leaving the band meant he maybe left liam too/or things weren’t working out b/t them or whatever, but given this context of the vday gifts just a few weeks before him leaving that doesn’t really line up…what does line up though is him being so in love and so sick of the bs that he might be driven to just be done with it all (as far as the stress of the band and mgmt bs is concerned at least). and ofc liam did say that zayn is the most emotionally impulsive/emotionally driven out of all them so when you think about it it really shouldn’t come as that much of a surprise…

anyway, in conclusion: 

it appears quite possible ziam has made it a couples tradition (ever since that first honeymoonish vacay in 2014) to go on some sort of trip/getaway together around the end of every february (or at least do something special together/for each other when they can’t) and in further conclusion I AM NOT OKAY AND WILL NEVER BE OVER THIS REALIZATION OKAY THANKS BYE 😭😭😭😭😭🌈🌈🌈 

[purplesurveys]

1267

cds.

do you still buy physical copies of cds?  I stopped for many years but recently started again.

have you ever listened to a cd for the first time and loved every track?  I was like this with Petals for Armor, Flowers for Vases, and After Laughter; I’m just a super big fan of anything Hayley Williams and Paramore put out.

name an artist who always comes out with great albums:  I mean I’m gonna be biased and say Paramore...

how long can you listen to a cd without getting sick of it?  I don’t really listen to CDs per se, I guess, so I dunno if I can answer this. When I want to music, and a particular artist, I usually pick a playlist composed of songs from different albums.

do you know any good places on the internet to get free downloads of whole albums?  I wouldn’t be able to refer you to one, come to think of it.

what was the last cd you bought?  My Butter/Permission to Dance set.

have you ever gotten a cd signed by the artist?  Nope.

name cds that are in your car right now or would be in your car if you had one: I don’t keep CDs in my car just because I get my music played by connecting my phone to the Bluetooth; but I believe for the longest time I had a Beyoncé album in the CD slot before I took it out. 

your hair.

describe your hair style:  It’s wavy and layered is the most I can say about it. I don’t style it often.

when was the last time you got a haircut?  Around the start or mid-August, I think? I don’t remember when exactly; but it was very recent.

is your hair the only thing you drastically change?  I never do drastically change it to begin with. The only things I do with it are 1) let it grow out, 2) have it trimmed to my collarbones once a year.

would you rather have brown, blonde, or black hair (not your natural)? I have black hair, but it would be interesting to go brown.

what's the shortest you've ever had your hair?  Up to below my ears.

have you ever had bangs?  I currently have bangs and am more than sick of them already ath this point.

if not, do you plan on ever getting them // if you have them, do you plan on growing them out?  Yeah, for the latter.

fantasies.

what do you fantasize about most often?  How my life could’ve turned out if we weren’t in a pandemic is definitely one of them. Would I have been able to get the same job? Remain in the relationship I used to be in and maybe have even gotten better at handling it? What cities could I have possibly already traveled to with my own money?

if your last fantasy came true, how happy would you be?  That would be traveling to South Korea, and I would be over the moon.

how much do you fantasize?  Mmm not very often since my work takes up most of my headspace. I usually daydream before bed, I think.

or am i the only one who does?  Definitely not.

have you ever told anyone who has been in your fantasy about it?  I mean, I just always tell Angela and Reena that I can’t wait to go to Korea with them. But I don’t fantasize about irls in the way that I think you mean.

would you rather fantasize about your ex or the hottest teacher in your school for the rest of your life?  I don’t ever want to think of my ex in that way anymore and I’m not in school.

do you often find yourself fantasizing about things/people you know you shouldn't?  I mean I will fantasize about certain celebrities but idk if that falls as a should/shouldn’t thing.

your ex.

who did the most damage in your preexisting relationship?  I think we both showed our worst weaknesses towards one another. But by the end of it, I will say she inflicted more damage onto me.

if you were/are single, would you have sex with them?  Um at this point, no. I barely think about sex anyway.

would/did you give this person your virginity? I did. My feelings for her today aside, I don’t regret it; I trusted her in that moment and I wouldn’t take that away from me.

do you still miss the good times with them?  Only in the sense that she used to be my best friend for an extremely long period of time and nearly all the great memories from my past were made with her. do you still talk often? how often?  Oh not at all. I haven’t kept in touch since the last day of 2020. did you make a big deal about the break up?  Yeah, I was definitely the more reactive one and it lasted for a couple of months. She bounced as soon as she got out of the relationship and I wish I had gotten the hint sooner.

how long did it take you to get over them?  Around 6 or 7 months. I really thought it would take so much longer.

if you could tell them one thing, what would it be:  I have nothing to say.

the song you're listening to/the song that's stuck in your head/any song you want to talk about

favorite lyric in the song:  “Where there is hope, there is hardship.”

what is the song?  It’s a song called Sea.

artist:  BTS.

how'd you get introduced to this song?  It was briefly played in one of their docu-series; I just can’t remember which one. Anyway, I instantly took a liking since it isn’t their usual sound, so I wanted to look it up; and it made a lot more sense when I learned it was initially meant to be a solo for one of the members.

if you could perfectly play this on any instrument, which instrument would it be?  Oh this song would be perfect on a violin.

would you have sex with the artist/anyone in the band? Why does everything always revolve around sex for some people?? < LOL same question but to answer it anyway, hahahahaha yes

can you relate to the lyrics?  Not in the manner in which it was written, but I do have my own interpretation of it that I am able to relate with a lot. The song definitely gets me emotional.

name a friend that you think would like it:  Angela, only because I know she already does like it hahaha. In general, though, K-Pop is still quite polarizing so idk if any of my friends outside of the K-Pop bubble would appreciate it.

would you rather have sex to this song or witness your dad singing it to your friends?  Uhm, maybe the latter because I think it would be adorable in a very dorky way

favorite restaurant.

how many times have you been to this place?  Countless times, but they were always with my ex. I need to revisit that place just by myself lol.

where is it located?  It has multiple branches across the metro but the one I used to frequent is the one at UPTC.

when was the first time you came here?  I have no idea but I think the first time was with my mom and siblings actually. A rough guess would be...2016? or maybe 2017.

what's the name of the restaurant?  Yabuuuu.

what kind of atmosphere does it have?  On the sophisticated sidde but still casual and homey, especially since it offers unlimited rice and sides and you can always just call on a server to dump a scoop of rice or lettuce or whatever when you’ve run out of them haha.

does it have a bar? No, but if I remember correctly they do offer a few alcoholic drinks.

have you ever been here for a birthday?  Yes, for my 21st birthday. I went with Angela.

what do you order when you're here?  I get their rosu set, which is katsu with a strip of fat.

are they famous for any drinks?  No.

have you ever gone here with your significant other?  Many times. It was our favorite restaurant.

if it shut down (if its a chain, the entire chain) permanently, how sad would you be?  That would soooo shitty. I’d order a meal everyday until it disappears forever lol.

would you work here?  No. I love the brand, but not so desperately so as to work for them haha.

favorite teacher

(I don’t really have one, but I’ll refer to the first good professor that popped in my head.)

how old is this person?  I have no clue but I would guess he’s anywhere in the mid-20s to early-30s range.

name:  HAHAHAHAHA I don’t actually remember his name anymore...oh no...but he was my prof in my international relations class.

are they married?  I know he has a boyfriend, not sure about his relationship status. That’s not of my business to know.

would you marry them?  Well, no.

do they have kids?  I’m fairly certain he doesn’t.

have you ever seen them out of school?  Not me but I know some of my college friends have. It’s how I heard he has a boyfriend lol.

what's so great about them that makes them your favorite?  He was clearly very passionate about our subject and he was able to explain concepts helpfully and in a way that anybody can appreciate, considering I wasn’t even majoring in the course he taught.

are they more laidback about teaching or strict?  Laidback.

do they run any clubs or coach any sports?  Not that I know of.

what's their personality like?  Approachable, friendly.

if they weren't a teacher, what do you think would be a good profession for them?  Political analyst.

[rpsocsandcanonohmy]

I’m August

Written for Walker Pride Week

Day 7: Free Space

8 months ago

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to do this. Well, he wanted to do this. He wanted to be seen for who he really was and changing schools was a great opportunity to do that. But to get there, he had to do something very scary. 

“Gramps? Do you have a minute?”

“Sure, Allie. What’s on your mind?”

He cringed hearing that name. “I…. Have you started enrolling us at Sacred Hearts yet?”

“We’re just going through the paperwork. Why do you ask?”

Here goes. “I was just wondering. I...I was just thinking about the whole, ‘new school’ thing. Not really gonna know anyone there, not in the same circuit as our old school...new beginnings and all that.”

“If this is about changing your middle name, the answer is still no.”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I know, this is different.”

“What is it then?”

“I’mtrans.” Like ripping off a band-aid.

“....What was that?”

He took a deep breath. “I’m transgender. I’m a boy, not a girl. I feel like I'm stuck in the wrong body. I don't want to be 'Allie' anymore. That's not who I am."

His confession was met with blank stares. He bit his lower lip nervously. This had been a lot smoother when he practiced it with Stella and Uncle Liam a few days ago. Maybe he should've done it then when Liam was still in town. He could've had back up. He could've-

"Who are you, then?"

"What?"

"I asked you what you wanted to be called, dear. Who are you?"

"...August." He'd picked it from the list of possible names Emily decided to include in his baby book.

"Alright, August. Your Gramps and I have a few things to talk about."

"...Okay." It was out of his hands now.

Now

“Are you on your way?”

“Yes, Liam.”

“Good. You’re not gonna stop anywhere on the way, are you?”

“I might have to stop for gas-”

“Just gas. No booze or sight-seeing or anything else.”

“Okay, okay, geeze. It’s like you think I don’t want to come home or something.”

Liam sighed on the other end. “Cordi, you know that’s not it. I just…. Au- Allie wants to talk to you about something and it’s kind of a big deal.”

“Yeah, okay. Do you know what she wants to talk about?”

“I was specifically asked not to give you any heads up on it.”

“Well that’s just concerning.”

“It’s nothing bad,” Liam said hurriedly. “Quite the opposite. It’s just…. She wants to tell you herself.”

“If you say so.” Liam had been mentioning this Thing to him ever since he finished the case. Whatever his youngest had to tell him, it was important and Cordell planned on listening with all the care a good father should. Maybe that would make up for his previous absence. “Anyway, I’ll be home in time for dinner. Tell the girls I love them?”

“Of course. See you soon.”

8 months ago

“Al- August? Could you come here please?”

He walked into the dining area, not sure what he was about to hear. They’d used his real name and not his deadname so he was optimistic. Still, that didn’t necessarily mean good news.

“We’ve been thinking about what you told us.”

Here we go.

“We’ve started working on getting your named changed and once that’s sorted we’ll enroll you under that name.”

That was good.

“But we don’t want to do anything medical just yet. Not without your father around anyway.”

Slightly less good but it could be worse.

“We’ll let you do whatever else you want to do for your appearance. Haircut, binders, new wardrobe, whatever.”

Amazing.

"Thank you." he said, voice breaking slightly at the end. It was more than he'd expected.

"Of course. We love you and we want you to be happy. Maybe we don't understand the whole 'trans' thing but we don't need to."

He hugged them both tightly. "Thank you. I love you. So much."

He couldn't believe this was really happening. He was going to be August Walker. It made him tear up just thinking about it.

Now

“He said he’ll be home in time for dinner,” August said as he entered the living room. “Uncle Liam just got off the phone with him and made sure he knew he had to be here.”

“He’d better,” Stella muttered from her spot on the couch. “He was supposed to be back months ago.”

August rolled his eyes. “Could you relax? You’re gonna scare him away again if you act like that when he gets here.”

“You assume he’ll get here.”

“I choose optimism.” August shrugged and sat on the opposite side of the couch and swung his legs up so his feet sat in her lap. “Besides, Mawline’s making her chili; he never misses Mawline’s chili.”

Stella huffed and rolled her eyes. “I do not understand the faith you have in him.”

“You used to have it too,” he said softly.

“That was before he abandoned us,” she snapped.

“And whose bright idea sent him that way in the first place?” he retorted. He instantly regretted it when her face fell and he moved to sit closer to her. “Sorry. I didn’t-”

“I know,” she said softly, hugging him tightly. She rubbed his back and pulled away with a frown. “How long have you been wearing that?”

August lightly pushed her arms off him and crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s fine.”

“How long?”

“Long enough.”

“You know you can’t wear it all day. The instructions said-”

“I know how to wear my binder, Stella. I’ll take a break later,” he muttered. 

Stella chewed her bottom lip. “...I have some big sweaters if you want. They should be big enough to cover….”

August shook his head. He knew Stella meant well but today was stressful enough as it was. Dad coming home would have been big enough without also telling him that his youngest kid was transgender and had a new name and pronouns and appearance and everything. Maybe he should’ve taken Uncle Liam’s offer to break the news to Dad earlier. But that just didn’t seem right. He felt like he should do it in person.

Of course, that meant now he had to agonize about it all day and wonder if that trade off was worth it. Hopefully it would be.

7 months ago

“Class, we have a new student joining us today. Would you like to introduce yourself, young man?”

That felt so good to hear. “Hi. My name is August Walker. I’m happy to be here.”

“Thank you. Why don’t you take a seat over there next to Ruby and then we can get started?”

He did it. 

He really did it.

He was August Walker.

Now

Cordell pulled up to the house and saw his whole family waiting outside. Well, almost his whole family. Allie wasn’t there. He’d expected her to be waiting on the porch like she usually was when he came home from a mission. Maybe she was just nervous about whatever it was she wanted to talk about?

Stella greeted him first with a tight hug. Then Momma and Daddy. James shook his hand and Stan clapped him on the back. Liam was the last to approach him with his own hug. "Where's Allie?" he asked, looking around the yard.

"Inside, in hi- her room. She's waiting to talk to you."

"Still not gonna tell me what this is about?"

"Not my place to say. Just…." Liam sighed and looked away. "Be careful, okay? She's nervous."

"I will," he promised, heading inside to talk to his daughter. As he headed up the stairs, he wondered what he was about to walk into. It was clearly something important, given all the secrecy and emphasis. Something life altering perhaps? Did something happen? Was she sick? Now he was nervous.

"Allie, Liam said you wanted to-" He stopped when he saw her.

He knew he'd been gone for a long time. Almosy a year. People were bound to change in that time, especially young people. But this…. This was a lot.

Instead of the girly "Pretty in Pink'' princess he said goodbye to all those months ago, Allie sits in front of him with short hair, boy's jeans, and an oversized hoodie. Her room has changed too, from neons to neutral colors and shelves of books instead of horse figurines. She cleared her throat and stood up. "Hi, Dad."

Her voice sounded different too. Lower, a little deeper, like she was forcing it down.

"Hi…."

She took a deep breath and crossed her arms over her chest. "I know this is a lot to take in but…. I'm transgender. I'm a boy. My name is August. Gramps and Mawline let me change my name and everything back when they transferred us to Sacred Hearts High a few months ago. I haven't done any physical transitioning yet because they didn't want to do that without you here. I figured it out a few years ago and I didn't say anything because I wasn't sure how y'all would react. I only said something now because we were changing schools and I thought...fresh start. So. Yeah. That's where we're at." All- August looked down at he- his shoes, likely waiting for a reaction.

It was a lot. If he had a million years to guess what his youngest had to say to him, this probably never would've made the list.

But here they were. Allie wasn't a little girl anymore. He was a young man who named himself August. And he needed his dad, now more than ever.

"....Okay."

"What?" 

"I said, okay." 

August nearly bowled him over with a hug and he hugged back just as tight. "I love you," was muffled against his shirt.

"I love you too, August."

He could process this whole thing later. Right now, his son was all that mattered.

[hypnoticwinter]

Down the Rabbit Hole part 6

“I’ve never ridden a horse before,” she tells Eileen, and the girl glances over at her. Makado thinks she can detect a little more life behind those dark, sullen eyes, and she offers up a faint smile.

“Yeah?” Eileen asks, and Makado nods, gives her a little shrug.

“Yes,” she says. “I guess - I guess in a way I was always too nervous to.”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean, you’ve seen horses,” Makado says. “They’re enormous. What if the horse you’re going to ride doesn’t like you? It could bite you, or kick you, or -“

Eileen is laughing. Well, maybe not laughing, but it’s definitely a giggle. Definitely a smile, at least. Makado will take it. “No, I’m serious,” she grins. “Horses freak me out! They’re so huge, and -“

“But they’re so gentle,” Eileen says. “The horse I liked to ride back at my grandfather’s place, his name is Dragster, and -“

Makado is laughing too hard for her to continue. “Dragster?” she manages to choke out. “The horse’s name was Dragster?”

“Hey, it’s a good name for a horse!”

“Okay, I’ll take your word for it. Tell me about Dragster, then. Would he like me?”

“Of course he would,” Eileen says. “He likes everybody.”

Makado makes a wry face. “I don’t know, there’s something about me that just rubs horses the wrong way.”

“I thought you said you’d never even seen a horse.”

“I imagine there’s something about me that would rub a horse the wrong way.”

“Have you ever even, like, been close to a horse, or -“

“Okay,” Makado confesses. “Maybe I haven’t. But even so -“

“Can you two quit it with all the horses?” Fitzroy groans. “Ever since Eileen woke up it’s been horses, horses, horses -“

Eileen gives him a scathing glower and Makado rolls her eyes at him. “Yes,” she agrees. “Because you’ve been such a great conversationalist.”

“Whatever,” Fitzroy grumbles. He mutters something under his breath and Makado feels a little spike of anger prick at her, but before she can say anything Eileen reaches over and kicks Fitzroy in the ankle. “Ow! What was that for?”

“For getting us into this in the first place, you shit,” she tells him. “If you hadn’t decided it’d be a fun idea to pick on - “

Makado feels incredibly weary all of a sudden. She lets the bickering fade into the background and instead reaches down, flips her radio to transmit.

“Peter?” Makado asks. She frowns and then pulls out her radio, checks the battery level and the connection. The battery’s fine but the connection screen shows her direct link with Peter was cut. She curses and then switches over to the general channel. “Makado to Peter,” she says. Fitzroy and Tyler look over, then away again.

“Makado to Peter,” she repeats. “Come in please, our link got severed.”

She takes her finger off the call button and waits. With a repeater down, reception will be spotty but at short distances like this Peter should still be able to hear her.

The seconds stretch like taffy. All that she can hear on the radio is squirrelly bursts of static, nothing like a voice or a call.

She can feel the kids’ eyes on her; the static isn’t exactly quiet or innocuous. She counts to ten, slowly in her head, and then at the end of the count clicks the radio off and slips it back into its holster, and then rises from her chair and runs through a quick full-body stretch. “Alright, Mak,” she mutters to herself, eyes flicking over at the kids, voice barely audible. “Hey, guys,” she says, forcing herself to sound bright and cheery. Just like a tour group, she tells herself.

They all look exhausted, Eileen most of all. She’s stopped clutching her wrist so tightly but Makado can see it in her eyes, she just wants to be home in bed and treating this like it was a bad dream.

Makado’s been worried about her. She wasn’t talking much, even when Fitzroy tried to engage her, and even though Makado had gone and sat next to her and Eileen had seemed like she’d been receptive, leaning over on Makado’s shoulder and falling asleep almost immediately while Makado had spoken quietly into the radio to Peter, she’d woken up soon after and gone and sat by herself, staring into space. Makado felt a twinge of dormant maternal instinct somewhere deep in her psyche, looking at the tall, lanky girl. She hadn’t had to take care of her little sister for years, but old habits die hard. She’d rolled her eyes at herself inwardly and then  went over and sat next to her and pestered her and got her to tell her all sorts of things, like how summer school was going (awful), how her mom was making her get a job at the movie theatre for pocket money (yuck) and how her lame-ass dad was taking them all camping in August before school started again (groan).

Makado had felt a little like she were sitting with someone dying of frostbite, trying to keep them from falling asleep, but Eileen had seemed to warm up after a while. She was a horse girl, clearly, and after Makado had found out what her favorite animal was there was a wealth of conversation to dig into.

Makado groans to herself and clears her throat.

“There’s been a change of plans,” she tells them. “I’m going to have to go out and help Peter with something and I’m going to need you all to stay here and sit tight.”

“You’re leaving?” Tyler asks. He looks so young and so scared. They’d been doing alright there in the shelter for a while, now that things had slowed down and the convulsions wracking the Pit had diminished, but Makado knew that that situation could change at the drop of a hat. No point telling them that, though.

“Yes,” she says, “but only for maybe ten, twenty minutes. I’ll be back as soon as I can, I’m not abandoning you. Promise.”

Fitzroy nods; Eileen doesn’t look like she cares one way or another. “What if something gets in?” Tyler asks.

“Nothing’s going to get in,” Makado assures them. “Look,” she says, pointing to the door to the elevator enclosure. “That’s solid. No window, sealed along the cracks. Nothing will be able to see you or smell you from outside.”

“What about the elevator shaft?”

“Those doors take a lot of strength to pry open,” she assures him. “And anything that’s going to be able to wriggle its way past the elevator stuck in the shaft up there is not going to be physically able to open them. It won’t be big or strong enough.”

Fitzroy gives her a blasé look. “Are you just telling us that to make us feel better?”

“No,” she says, giving him a dangerous look. “I’m serious. That elevator door isn’t going to budge. This exit door, take a chair and prop it under the handle once I’m gone if it’ll make you feel better. I’ll knock shave and a haircut when I get back, that way you’ll know it’s me.”

They all look at her with complete incomprehension in her eyes. “No?” she asks. “Shave and a haircut?”

“I literally have no idea what you’re talking about,” Eileen murmurs. Makado makes a face at her.

“Thanks for making me feel old, guys.” She raps it out on the wall. “That. If someone knocks that on the door, let them in.”

“Oh.”

“See. You know what it is, you just didn’t know the name of it. Fitzroy, can I talk to you?”

“Yeah,” he says. Makado rolls her eyes.

“Over here, please.”

Acting like it’s a tremendous burden, Fitzroy gets up and saunters over to her. She leans in close to him. “Look,” she says. “We got off on the wrong foot. I was never going to charge you with anything, I told Peter to take you guys up to the surface and kick you out. We’re on the same side here. Okay?”

Fitzroy stares at her. He has acne scars on his temple and he smells like bodyspray slowly being consumed by several hours’ worth of sweat. His eyes, though, Makado notices, are wide and blue and concerned looking. He has honest eyes. She finds it somehow surprising. “Was that pool really acid?” he asks her softly.

“Yes. The bulb that ranger station is – was in -  that’s essentially a stomach. All that was acid. If Tyler had fallen in he probably would have died or at least been severely hurt.”

“And you aren’t going to charge us for that?”

“Fitzroy. Roy? Do you have a name you prefer?”

“I usually go by my middle name Robert.”

“Robert, you’re a kid. Kids do dumb shit. I’m not going to ruin your life over something where nobody got hurt.”

“But –“

“I’m not the bad guy,” she tells him. “I think after today you’ll probably have learned your lesson.”

“Okay,” he breathes. He looks like he feels a little better.

“I want you to take this,” she says, pulling out her emergency transponder.

“What is it?”

“It’s a rescue beacon, essentially. You break that seal there and then this will come off and there’ll be a button. If you press that, this thing will start screaming for help and somebody will get down here and help you. If me or Peter aren’t back within…let’s say forty-five minutes or so, turn that on.”

“Why not sooner? Or right now?”

Makado thinks about it for a moment. “Because everybody is very busy helping people who need it. Right now, we might be stuck down here, but I promise, I am going to get all of us out of here. Let them help other people first.”

“Okay,” he repeats. He puts his hand around the beacon and puts it into the pocket of his sweatshirt.

“Remember, twist it to break the seal and then press the button.”

“Easy,” he agrees.

“Yeah.” She squeezes his shoulder lightly. “You’re doing great. This will be over soon.”

“Really?”

“If everything works out, yeah. Now I really need to go. Remember to prop a chair against the door when I leave, alright?”

“Okay.”

And then Makado is running a hand through her curly brown hair, gathering it into a tight ponytail. She slips her helmet on and is out the door without giving the kids any time to doubt.

 * * *

 Even though Peter’s conscious mind is frozen, his instincts kick into overdrive as that giant hand descends on him. He snaps his leg out without even thinking about it and digs the cleats into the tender, vulnerable flesh at the heel of the copepod’s palm, and it makes a loud, angry chittering noise, its multifaceted mouthparts working furiously. Peter tries to pull his leg back in time but he can’t move quickly enough before its fingers snap shut around his ankle and it lifts him bodily from the ground and he dangles there, wiggling back and forth. The thing’s grip is tight and uncomfortable and he can feel his ankle bulge in its socket as its fingers squeeze, shifting lightly to get a better grip on him. Its other hand comes up and grabs at him but he twists and it plucks at thin air, then pulls back.

Makado’s voice has gone quiet; not even the faint hiss of static that undercut their conversations earlier is audible. The earpiece is still screwed tightly into his ear so that can’t be the problem, but the familiar weight of the radio in its side holster is no longer present. It must have fallen out when the copepod picked him up.

Peter has never seen a live abyssal copepod in person. He’s heard stories, of course – any ranger who’s worked the Flesh Pit has – but the copepods have an aura of myth around them despite being demonstrable, understandable creatures.

Nobody knows why they have hands. Even the scientists can’t figure it out; extraordinary evolutionary pressure, one of them had told Peter one time, when they’d ended up sitting at the same table in the cafeteria. The depths and challenges of the Pit forcing them to scrabble for any sort of generational advantage they could find. The older rangers and the miners, the ones who worked in the deepest areas of the Pit, where the copepods could usually be found, whispered of stranger explanations, though, but these were usually so outlandish that Peter found them easy to dismiss.

An entire three-day period of ranger training and orientation was dedicated to abyssal copepods. Everything else in the Pit could be put down with gunfire. True, some things like an amorphous shame or a shamble could take quite a bit of punishment, but if you shoot at a copepod there’s no guarantee it’ll do anything. Peter remembers watching the bits of video they’d played that first day, footage of copepod attacks on mining and exploratory trips deep into the Pit. He’d found it hard to believe the footage was real. The copepods had moved so quickly and had been so coordinated, popping up on one side of the dig site and causing a commotion as a distraction while three of them swept in from behind and snatched up four people, one of the copepods, the largest, carrying off two miners at once. The rangers there on the security detail had opened up on the copepods with the automatics they’d had but it had done nothing, the copepods had simply covered their vulnerable faces with their hands and let the bullets sink into their thick flesh or bounce off of their hardened, nacreous exoskeletons without any noticeable effect.

Earl, the grizzled ranger leading the class, had paused the video there and ushered them all outside, and they’d all walked down in a tight little group to the very middle of the Lower Visitor Center, right in the atrium, where, suspended from wires and perfectly preserved, was the only fully intact specimen of abyssal copepod that had ever been recovered from the depths of the Pit.

The thing had, Earl told them, crawled up the gullet, digging its hands into the flesh of the pit wall, leaving a trail of bloody pockmarks behind it like footprints. And then it had levered itself onto a ledge, a bony outcrop near the surface, where the sun had been shining, and it had laid there and died.

“Why?” someone asked, and Earl shrugged.

“We don’t know much about these things, about why they do the things they do. So I can’t tell you why exactly,” he drawled, “but I can tell you what I think. I think it knew it was fading. And it wanted to see the sun.”

The copepod plucks at him again with its free hand and again Peter twists out of the way. It keeps snatching its hand back after it misses, a telltale indicator that this copepod has run into rangers before. Maybe a miner with a taser, a ranger with an ESD gun, some experience in the past that let it know that humans can hurt it.

Electrical discharges tend to be the best way to deal with copepods. An ordinary taser, the kind the police use, won’t do more than tickle it, but every ranger station carries a rack of overpowered high-voltage tasers that would fry a human to a crisp but will knock out a copepod. Peter’s never had to use one, never fired one except for that day in training when they had to qual on them in order to pass. He’d hit five out of seven shots and that had been good enough. Hit a copepod with one of those, Earl had said, and that’ll put it on its ass long enough for you to take your knife and shove it right there, tapping the diagram of the copepod’s head between its eyes. “Its brain isn’t there, but a primary nerve is. Hit it just there, right in the center, dig the knife around in there, and you’ll paralyze it for the rest of its life, which will probably be about half an hour. Then just walk away.”

He made it sound extremely simple. Peter thought it was kind of sad, thinking about one of the enormous copepods, trapped there in its own body, unable to move, waiting for something to come by and eat it, or maybe for it to suffocate, unable to make its lungs breathe.

Peter reaches upwards to his hips and unsnaps his holster. The service pistol practically flings itself out and Peter fumbles with it for one heart-stopping moment before he gets a good grip on it. If he’d dropped it…

The copepod is drawing its arm back again for another swipe at him. Peter points the pistol at it, taking a moment to line up a shot at its head. The head is just as armored as the rest of its body, but the eyes aren’t, although that shot, hanging upside down in the thing’s grasp, would be one in a million.

The copepod’s eyes shift as he points the pistol at it and then it drops him. He lands heavily but scrambles to his feet as quick as he can. He sees the copepod cringe back, covering its head with one of its hands, the other blindly groping for him. He dodges a swipe and then turns tail and runs, his cleats digging into the floor of the trail and popping free with wet sucking sounds. It takes the copepod a moment to realize he’s booked it but once it does it screeches, sounding like a bucket of nails fed into a wood chipper, and takes off after him, pulling itself forwards on its powerful forearms, its frilled steering vanes beating uselessly against the fleshy ground.

 * * *

 Makado strides down the corridor boldly, one hand on the butt of her service pistol. She’s already sealed her helmet, just in case. No matter how hard she tries she can’t seem to get rid of the bubbling knot of trepidation, tensing in her stomach as she makes her way closer to the Organ Trail. A triocanth is one thing, nasty enough but easy to deal with, but an abyssal? Peter must have been mistaken.

But no, whispers a little voice in the back of her head. Wishful thinking isn’t going to save you.

She’s checked her pockets a dozen times on the way down but she doesn’t have anything that could properly deal with an abyssal copepod. The things are massive, cunning, angry tubes of pure rage, and if you were going to try to take one down without cheating and zapping it with an electro gun you’d have to use one of the big forty-mills they keep in the LVC for emergencies. Makado’s seen the plans, seen the contingencies, even though her clearance wasn’t high enough. She’d laughed at the time. ‘Organized assault by more than fifteen abyssal copepods?’ Give me a break.

Now, though, with the lights flickering and the floor throbbing to a sickly beat, she isn’t so sure.

Alright, Mak. Think. How are you going to take out an abyssal?

She still has no ideas five minutes later when she reaches the point in the corridor where Peter must have ran into that triocanth. There’s a great gout of bacterial fluid there on the grated floor, still wet and dripping, and huge spots of rust where it melted into the steel. She curls her lip; even though the closed-system suit prevents her from smelling it, she knows exactly what it would smell like, sulfurous rotten-egg stench mixed with a horribly biological rot-like odor, like week-old vomit.

There in the fleshy wall, she notices, is the slit that Peter must have seen the copepod reach from; it’s large, but it wouldn’t be large enough to let the copepod come all the way into the corridor without a great deal of squeezing and stretching. That must have been why all it did was reach out and grab the bacterium, she realizes.

For about the third time since she started her journey, she tries to call Peter again on the radio, but with even less hope of a response. Clearly something’s happened; she hopes it wasn’t the abyssal making off with him, but she forces herself to be realistic.

She reaches out to touch the rough-pink edge of the slit in the wall and notices her hand is shaking slightly. She makes a fist and then punches the side of the wall, hard as she can. Her  knuckles leave four little divots in the flesh that fade quickly.

“Alright,” she says out loud. “I’m going to go and I’m going to fuck up that abyssal cope –“

Her words catch in her throat as what she thought was a weirdly-shaped skin tag opens a set of six multifaceted eyes and looks at her. “Uh,” she starts, reaching down to her hip for her pistol, but the triocanth bursts out of the wall, propelled by its well-muscled, springlike tail, trailing slime and venterial lymph like a comet, and has wrapped its tentacles around her neck and constricted her arms to her sides with the rest of its wriggling body before she can even think.

 * * *

 The copepod roars behind him again and Peter ducks; another chunk of flesh with five puckered divots punched into it sails past him and slaps wetly into the wall of the corridor. Peter twists around. “Will you stop throwing shit at me?” he asks the copepod, which responds by digging its hands in again and lunging forward another seven or eight feet, but the sizable lead Peter’s amassed still puts him far ahead of the thing on the trail, close to the exit up to the Campground and the lower gastrointestinal zone. The thing pauses there and once again Peter reflects on the lumbering bulk of it, the banded plates and armor, the hands twitching with what he interprets as repressed rage. It’s getting tired, he guesses; at the start Peter was lucky to have gotten away from it before it was able to snatch him up again and disarm him but the thing was wary of his pistol, even though it wouldn’t really have been able to hurt it. He hasn’t shot at it yet, not wanting to have to, not wanting to reveal that the gun he holds loosely at his side isn’t an electrical stunner but just a puny .45 that wouldn’t hurt the thing if he didn’t nail it square in the face.

The copepod makes a fist and slams it on the floor repeatedly before it flexes and lurches itself another few feet forward. It’s such a human gesture that Peter pauses for a moment and watches it, watches the way its eyes glitter, locked on Peter’s, watches the way its sides heave with the vast gulping breaths it’s taking. He shakes his head eventually. “Fuck you,” he tells it, and then turns and jogs upwards, into the light.

 * * *

“Goddam,” Makado keeps muttering, trying to flex her arms and break the triocanth’s hold on her but it’s no use, the thing is basically all muscle, it’s much stronger than her. It seems to have figured out by now that it can’t bite through her faceplate, after a few minutes of slobbering over her and leaving scratch marks on the reinforced glass of the visor, its three serrated teeth flexing with the effort, and now instead has settled for trying to crush her. She’d only just managed to slip one of her hands up around her neck before its whiplike tentacles had laced over it, but the extra space her arm gave her was enough to let her continue to breathe.

The triocanth’s dull eyes, arranged in two tripled sets on either side of its face, regard her. “Goddam,” Makado repeats. She opens her holster and starts to take out her pistol but the thing’s tail won’t let her move far enough to get it all the way out. She makes a face, straining against the triocanth, and it shifts minutely, enough to let the pistol free.

The triocanth reels back and then strikes her in the face, leaving a smear of venom on her visor, as well as a hairline crack that she eyes with trepidation. She can feel her hands shaking as she angles the pistol up, rotating her wrist carefully. She can’t tell where it’s pointed, if it’ll hit the triocanth if she pulls the trigger. She thinks it will but she also doesn’t want to shoot herself.

It pulls back and batters itself into her helmet again and the glass shatters; Makado shuts her eyes just in time but she still feels several shards dig into the skin on her cheeks and her chin. She pulls the trigger.

 * * *

 When Peter hears the gunshots his head snaps up, away from the map readout on his wrist. “Mak,” he breathes. He’d slowed a little when he’d reached the well-lit corridors above the organ trail, following the map and taking a shortcut back to the elevator enclosure.

There are three different trails she could be down; he picks one at random and sprints down it, careening off the walls when he overbalances, when his cleats stick in the metal grates and don’t come up as quickly as they ought. He’s tired and out of breath but he makes it down to the end of the corridor and turns the corner and finds Makado, limp and prone, the triocanth still wrapped around her, its head inclined downwards and covering her face. “No,” he finds himself saying without any conscious bidding on his part. “No, no no no no no,” he says, pulling his pistol out of its holster and training it on the triocanth. He reaches down gingerly and takes ahold of the recessed groove on the rear part of its exoskeleton, expecting it to whip around and go after him, but the triocanth just lays still. Peter frowns.

“Pete?” Makado asks, and Peter almost falls to his knees he’s so relieved.

“Holy shit, Mak,” he says, putting his gun away and rolling the triocanth off her. He looks at her, laying there, smoke still rising from the barrel of her gun, shards of glass still dug into her face, and she smiles at him and it is truly the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“I came to get you,” she says breathlessly, sitting up, glass pouring from the inside of her helmet. She pops the quick release and it comes apart in two halves. She lets it clatter onto the floor. “I came to get you,” she repeats, “when your radio went dead.”

“I came to get you,” he tells her, “when I heard the gunshots. I thought you’d died, laying there, I…”

He trails off. Makado is bleeding from a cut on her chin and he watches as she picks a tiny shard of glass from her cheek, lets it tinkle to the floor and then through the grate and down onto the flesh below. He holds his wrist screen out to show her. “Look,” he says. “I have a map. I know the best way –“

Makado doesn’t look at the screen even once. When he leans in closer to show her, she leans into him, and then she reaches up and puts her hand in his short-cropped hair and then she kisses him, and her lips are warm and soft and her teeth nip at his lips lightly and her tongue darts into his mouth for only a moment, running along his teeth and gums before it’s gone, and the kiss feels like it lasts forever but it’s over in only a moment and when she pulls away from him Makado is smiling so hard her cheeks are starting to hurt and Peter is looking at her like he loves her and he opens his mouth to say something stupid so Makado leans in and kisses him again and this time he puts his arm around her and she still smells like peaches and her shoulders are soft and trembling slightly and he can feel her chest heaving as they press together and he can feel her breasts against him and he’s having trouble thinking.

And then there is a sliding, scraping noise behind them and Makado opens her eyes and speaks the words ‘holy shit’ directly into Peter’s mouth, and then she is scrambling away, tugging on Peter’s arm, for at the end of the hallway the copepod has just pulled itself into view and is sitting there, staring at them malevolently, tucking its arms in and trying to squeeze its bulk into the hallway proper.

“You weren’t kidding,” Makado breathes. Peter is only just now regaining proper brain functions and he keeps looking at Makado like he’d still like to keep kissing her even in spite of the copepod and Makado can’t help but smile at him and reach over and squeeze his hand very tight for just a moment. “We’ll do more of that later,” she promises.

The copepod reaches up and knots its fingers into the metal grille covering the ceiling and pulls itself another few feet into the hallway. Peter whips out his pistol and aims it at the copepod and again it sees and cowers back, covering its face. Makado whistles. “This one’s smart, isn’t it?”

“I haven’t shot it yet,” Peter says. “I don’t think it knows this is just a pistol.”

“I have an idea,” Makado says. The copepod rocks itself side to side a little. If it gets a couple feet forward it’ll have moved the largest bulging section of its exoskeleton into the hallway and it’ll be able to pull itself along freely, but for the moment it’s still stuck. Makado leans down and picks up the dead triocanth, grunting under its weight. “Help me with this fucking thing,” she says, and Peter takes it by the tail, trying to still keep the gun trained on the copepod, which is now peeking through its fingers at them, and between the two of them, Makado leading the way, they stagger closer to the copepod. After a moment it puts its hand down and watches them carefully, its arms retracting with their telltale pneumatic hissing noise, putting its hands on the inside of the corridor. “On three,” Makado says, “we toss this thing at the copepod.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”

She counts to three, heaving the dead weight of the triocanth back and forth between them to build up momentum, and then they toss it. It sails through the air and lands just in front of the copepod, which looks at them and then at the triocanth. “Now back off,” Makado says to Peter from the corner of her mouth.

They take a few steps backwards; the copepod reaches out and prods the triocanth gently. A few more steps; the copepod takes the triocanth in both hands and, with a ripping noise like fabric tearing, twists off the triocanth’s head and starts to eat it.

Makado and Peter turn and break into a jog. “I can’t believe that worked,” Peter tells Makado.

“Me neither,” she says. “Be glad it did. You know how to get up?”

“Yes,” he nods. One of the old evacuation shafts, the ones they put in when they were concerned about acid overflow. We can climb up and seal it after us and that’ll put us into Bronchial.”

“Lead the way.”

It takes them ten minutes or so to make it back to the elevator enclosure. Makado raps shave and a haircut on the door and Fitzroy takes the chair down and opens the door and practically falls over with relief when he sees Makado and Peter. “Did you get worried?” Makado asks.

“Yeah,” he says. “There were these noises –“

“We can talk about it later,” Peter says. “Guys, we have to go right now.”

It takes a little bit to get Eileen moving; she’d fallen asleep again and it took a little effort to wake her, but they get the three teenagers up and ready to go, and then shuffle off down the hallway, Peter and Makado in the front, referring to the map as they go. It takes them down about half a mile of halls, including a few detours due to failed stents and, in one case, a truly enormous cloistropod protruding from the wall and making a low subsonic buzz that set Peter’s teeth on edge, but they make it to the access shaft. Makado swipes her card and it unlocks, and then they have to spin the wheel and unseal the door, which takes what feels like an agonizing amount of time.

The door opens with a foreboding hiss, and Makado clicks on her flashlight and peers up the shaft. “Alright kids,” she says, her voice echoing in the tight space, “who’s ready for a climb? There’ll –“

Before she can get any further, though, the Pit bucks beneath them and roars so loudly that they all clap their hands to their ears. Fitzroy falls to the ground and Eileen screams but although Peter sees her mouth move he can’t hear her. The shuddering intensifies and again he reaches out as best he can, his face screwed up against the noise, and gathers Fitzroy and Tyler to him and takes them down to the ground while Makado does the same with Eileen, and they all huddle there for the short eternity it feels it takes for the Pit to settle. Eventually it does, and the roar peters out into a low grumbling moan that trails on and on. Peter rises to his feet finally, bringing Tyler and Fitzroy up with him. “Jesus Christ,” he says.

Makado looks shaken. “What the hell is going on?” she asks, and then stops. She looks at Peter and he looks at Makado.

The grumbling in the background hasn’t stopped; in fact, it’s only intensified.

Makado turns. At the end of the hallway, far, far down, a torrent of sickly-looking liquid bursts around the corner and shoots towards them, and buffeted along with it, looking almost smug, is the copepod, its arms tucked against its sides, its frilled rudder-like legs churning the stomach acid as it jets forwards, riding the tide.

“Go!” Makado yells, and Peter pushes Tyler and Fitzroy ahead of him and they clamber up the ladder like the devil were chasing them. Peter goes up next, turning halfway, and sees Makado pulling Eileen into the shaft.

Just as Peter reaches the top and Tyler and Fitzroy pull him up, he hears a scream from below and he turns and stares downwards; the acid is slowly rising at the bottom of the shaft and Eileen has lagged behind. For a moment he thinks the acid has reached her, and then he sees the hand extending out of the acid, clenched around her leg, a pale, translucent hand three times the size of a human’s, and he realizes what he’s about to see. “Don’t watch,” he tells Tyler and Fitzroy, but they don’t move.

“Eileen!” Makado screams. “Hold on! I’ve got you!”

But Makado doesn’t have her. She can feel Eileen’s grip slipping even on the puckered surface of her non-slip gloves. Makado, greatly daring, wedges her feet between the rungs of the ladder and, twisting around, reaches down to grab ahold of Eileen’s other hand.

Eileen is crying, the tears are running down her cheeks, leaving streaks of mascara in their wake, but she stays silent, her eyes locked on Makado’s, even though Makado can see the copepod twist its arm and break the girl’s ankle like it were a matchstick. A shudder runs through her and her hand flies open and Makado watches her fall into the copepod’s grip even as the acid rises higher in the access shaft. She can see it reacting with a bubbling hiss as it hits the sebaceous residue left on the copepod’s exoskeleton, the waxy layer of secretions that allow the giant arthropod to slither through tight veins and arteries at high speeds, but only a small part of her mind recognizes this; the rest of her is too busy watching Eileen, up until the point that she hits the acid and the copepod catches her with its other hand and then it’s drawn her below the surface, tucking her up under its armpit like a parcel. It seems to glance up at Makado as she screams Eileen’s name again, and then it wriggles its body like an overgrown lobster and darts off into the rising effluvial muck below and is gone.

It is only because Peter reaches down and takes ahold of her around the waist that he prevents Makado from jumping down into the acid to try and chase down the copepod and make it give Eileen back to her, ignoring the fact that the acid would already be burning its way through her like wildfire, sloughing off her skin like shucking an ear of corn, ignoring the fact that the copepod had probably already started to eat her.

It takes the combined effort of Peter and Fitzroy to drag Makado up to safety, and it’s only when the three-inch-thick safety shutter seals off access to the Lower Gastrointestinal Zone that she stops screaming Eileen’s name and the tears come, and with her shoulders shaking and her hands trembling, she lets the tears fall on the acid-proof steel until she can cry no more.

Continue with Part 7

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[spoookymuulders]

we have to adapt to survive.

read it on ao3 here word count: 2,929 warnings: mentions of panic attacks, nightmares

She killed it with kisses and from it she fled. - Musician Florence Welch

August 8, 2010

Parker jerks upright in bed, her heart pounding. Sucking in a few breaths, she looks around and hurries to focus on one of the exercises her therapist has been walking her through. 

Five things she can see; the LED numbers on her alarm clock. The streetlights from outside. Her panicked reflection in the mirror. Her outfit for tomorrow on the dresser. Her door.

Four things she can touch; her pajamas. Her blanket. Her hair. Her pillow.

Three things she can hear; a car alarm outside. Her white noise machine. The rustling of her sheets.

Two things she can smell; her lavender pillow spray. Her strawberry shampoo.

One thing she can taste; morning breath.

She grimaces at the last one, but she can feel her heartbeat returning to normal. Exhaling unsteadily, she lays back down and rubs her face hard. It feels like the nightmares are never-ending. They come almost every night, and every morning she’s more tired than when she went to bed. A glance at her alarm clock tells her that it’s 2:45 in the morning, and she groans quietly, rubbing at her eyes. She needs to get back to sleep - Penelope is supposed to pick her up at 9:30 for a girls day out - but she doubts that that’s going to happen.

Sighing softly, she yawns and rolls onto her side, staring out the window as rain begins to fall. The soft sound is soothing and before she knows it, she’s slipping back into a restless sleep.

Several hours later, Parker’s alarm rings bright and early, and she rolls over and smacks at it with a grunt. As she lays on her stomach, she can hear Spencer puttering around in the kitchen, and she rubs her eyes and stifles a yawn in her pillow. Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, she pushes herself up and shuffles out of her room, smiling lazily when she spies Spencer humming at the counter and dumping sugar into his coffee. She pads up behind him and rests her cheek to his back, smiling again when he hums softly.

“Mornin’.” She mumbles sleepily, tucking herself against his chest when he turns around. Spencer smiles softly and presses a kiss to the top of her head. 

“Morning.” He says softly, settling his arms around her. He brushes his fingers through the ends of her hair and hums softly, resting his cheek to her head. “Excited to spend the day with Garcia?” Parker hums in response.

“Yes. But I’m also glad I slept so hard last night. And that you’re making coffee.” She says. Spencer chuckles and releases her long enough to pour another cup.

“Garcia will probably take you to Starbucks while you’re out as well.” He tells her. She hums again and takes the mug from him, pouring in cream and sugar and stirring it for a moment before taking a sip. She’s going to need all the caffeine she can get if she’s going to keep up with Penelope today.

She and Penelope had clicked almost the minute they met - Spencer had told her they would, and he’d been right. Parker had accompanied Spencer to the BAU office one afternoon and had they needed to, they would have been able to see Penelope coming from a mile away in her bright pink dress and her bright red hair. She had taken Parker under her wing immediately and they’d become thick as thieves. Penelope had even helped Parker get started working on her GED.

Spencer had tried to encourage Parker to take some time to adjust to a normal life again, but she had insisted on starting on her GED as soon as she could. This will help me feel normal, she had insisted, and Spencer hadn’t argued - after all, if it made her happy, who was he to fight it? He glances down at the blonde in his arms and sighs softly, a tender smile touching his lips as she leans against him and sips at her coffee. Parker tips her head up and smiles sleepily at him, her eyes half-closed, and he chuckles softly, tapping her nose lightly. 

“You should go get dressed.” He tells her. She hums in response and he turns her around, pushing her towards her room gently and watching as she shuffles in and shuts the door behind herself.

In her room, Parker stands just beyond the closed door and curls her toes against the hardwood floors. The heady scent of her coffee fills her nose and she rocks on her feet for a moment as she looks around the room. It’s still hard to believe she’s actually home.

Her mother had tried so hard to convince Parker to come back to Vienna with her, or to get her to stay in Vegas with Jeremy and Sophia and the kids, but Parker had rebuffed all these suggestions, telling her mother she felt safest with Spencer. And Spencer had had no problem with finding a two-bedroom apartment - luckily enough, in the same building as the one-bedroom he’d been occupying before Parker’s return. Moving had been easy, especially with the help of the rest of the BAU team. It helped that Parker didn’t actually have anything to move, but she’s been building up a collection slowly. 

She has a decent wardrobe now, she thinks, and a nice matching bed and dresser and nightstand set. She’s been collecting books she’d had before and finding new ones; JJ insists she read a series called Twilight and Parker thinks it’s absolute garbage, but she can’t bring herself to stop reading it, either. 

A glance at the alarm clock on her nightstand tells her she needs to get her ass in gear, and she sets her coffee on the dresser, digging to find a pair of jeans and a top. She’s dressed in no time, and she slips into the bathroom, squinting at herself in the mirror. Her hair is so long now - and quite unruly, if she’s being completely honest. She stares at herself for a long moment, seriously considering (not for the first time) going to find a pair of scissors and hacking off most of her hair. Huffing quietly, she shakes her head before twisting her hair into a bun quickly and securing it with an elastic. By the time she’s done brushing her teeth and doing her makeup, Spencer is knocking at the door to let her know that Penelope has arrived.

She slips out with a smile, grabbing her purse and tipping her head as Spencer leans down to kiss her cheek gently. As she loops her arm through Penelope’s, Spencer calls out, “Have fun! Be safe!”

Parker promises to do both and that she’ll call if they need him, then blows him a kiss and disappears down the stairs with Penelope.

****

It feels like they’ve been shopping for the whole damn day - Parker feels like it should be 10:30 at night, but a glance at her watch tells her it’s only been three hours. Penelope has dragged her all over creation, just to spend time together and do some shopping, and Parker has no real complaints, other than she’s tired as hell.

She and Penelope have just finished lunch when they wander past a hair salon, and Parker stops in front of the window. Penelope keeps walking for a moment, chattering brightly before she realizes that Parker isn’t beside her anymore, and she comes back to Parker’s side, tipping her head. Parker doesn’t notice - she’s too busy staring at the girl inside getting her hair cut. A solid ten inches are dropping from her head onto the floor of the salon, and she’s beaming at the hairdresser in the mirror, laughing at some joke that’s just been shared between them, and Parker feels her eyes brim with tears.

“Hey, are you okay?” Penelope asks gently, touching Parker’s arm. Parker jumps a little, coming back to herself, and turns to Penelope, wiping her eyes quickly. “What’s goin’ on, Peep?”

“I wanna get my hair cut.” She says. Penelope blinks at her, then nods.

“Okay. Are you thinking like - a trim, get a couple inches off, or..?”

“I want it gone. I wanna chop it.” 

Penelope blinks twice, then beams at Parker. 

“Well what are we waiting for?!” She crows, and grabs Parker’s arm, dragging her inside. The young woman who greets them smiles warmly, nodding when Penelope asks if they have any availability for a walk-in appointment. She guides them back to a chair where a young man with a bright southern accent greets them with a grin and introduces himself as Jamie.

“What’re we doin’ today, sugar?” He asks as Parker settles in the chair and he drapes a cape around her front. 

“Chopping it. All of it.” She tells him. He raises his brows as he takes the elastic off and her hair tumbles out of its bun. Humming quietly, he pokes and prods around her scalp for a few moments before nodding.

“Let’s chop, then, baby.” He says. Parker nods, following him to the sinks in the back of the salon. He washes her hair and conditions it, holding it securely in a towel as they walk back to the chair. Penelope is perched in the chair beside it, chin propped in her hand as she watches Jamie work his magic. To his credit, he hadn’t asked any skeptical questions when Parker said she wanted to chop her hair off, and she appreciates that. 

After an hour of Jamie trimming and teasing and Parker saying shorter shorter shorter, he fluffs her still-damp hair and raises a brow in the mirror. 

“What do we think?” He asks. Penelope looks up and gasps softly, her eyes widening. Parker swallows thickly and nods, and Jamie grins before he massages some curl-boosting something-or-other into her scalp and grabs the blow dryer. When it’s dry, Parker’s hair is bright and vibrant and soft and so light. She can’t take her eyes off of it, watching the way the curls bounce and the light catches on the gold, and she feels her eyes burn. Jamie styles it a little, then removes the cape and helps Parker stand, laughing when she throws her arms around him in a tight hug.

“Thank you.” She whispers, sniffling as she steps back. Jamie grins, fluffing the ends of Parker’s hair gently.

“You come back to me anytime you want a haircut darlin’, you hear me?” He says. Parker nods and Jamie sees her and Penelope out, hovering by the desk as Parker pays. He waves after the two of them, watching as they slip back into the sun.

Parker can’t stop running her fingers through her hair. It’s gonna take some getting used to, for sure. Penelope grins, reaching over to tug at a curl lightly.

“Y’know what I think?” She muses. Parker hums in response, glancing at her. “I think we need to find you a new wardrobe. Something that feels like you and matches this new hair.”

Parker’s eyes light up.

****

Logically, Spencer knows that Parker is fine. She’s with Garcia, why wouldn’t she be? But there’s still that little part in the back of his mind telling him that she’s gone again, and that this time he’s not going to get her back. Since her return, she hasn’t been out of his sight for a whole day unless he’s been out of town on a case. And if he’s out of town on a case, she’s been with Garcia in her lair, working on her GED, or staying at Garcia’s apartment. But even then, he usually Skypes her before they both go to bed, or at the very least talks to her on the phone. Today, he hasn’t seen her since Garcia picked her up at 9:30, and now the two of them are running late to dinner and he can feel himself starting to panic a little.

Perched next to Morgan at their restaurant-patio table, he fiddles with his glass of wine absently, checking his phone now and then. JJ leans over and nudges his shoulder gently.

“They’ll be here in no time.” She assures him gently. He glances at her and offers a half-smile, nodding, but he doesn’t relax until he hears Garcia announcing loudly that they’ve arrived. His shoulders slump a little as Garcia approaches their table, beaming at them all.

“Ladies and gentlemen. I would like to introduce.. Parker O’Hare 2.0!” She announces grandly, and Spencer raises his brows a little. But when Parker steps out from behind Garcia, he understands, and his heart jumps into his throat. The others around him are whistling and gasping, but he pays them no mind, looking only at Parker.

She looks much more comfortable - and much more like herself, honestly - in loose jeans and a pair of Doc Martens. There’s a t-shirt tucked into her jeans (covered by one of his cardigans, he notes), but that’s not what catches his eye the most. What catches his eye the most is her hair - or lack of it, as the case may be. When she’d woken up this morning, her hair had been down to her waist in a braid, and she had tied it up in a bun before she’d left with Garcia. Now, it hangs much shorter, just barely brushing the tops of her shoulders. The curls are a little more pronounced, and her hair almost seems a little brighter and shinier than it did this morning. She thanks the others as they compliment her, but her eyes focus on Spencer again after a moment as he comes forward. 

“What do you think?” She asks softly, peering up at him almost nervously. Reaching out, he brushes his fingers through the ends of her hair gently and loops one of her curls around his index finger, tugging lightly. She bites her lip around a small smile, and he returns the smile, brushing his thumb against her jaw gently.

“I think it looks great.” He tells her, and she grins broadly at him, wrapping her arms around his middle tightly. He settles his arms around her shoulders and kisses her hair, squeezing lightly before leading her to the table. She perches beside him and twists the end of her sleeve absently, thanking their waiter as he sets a glass of water in front of her.

Spencer tries to focus on the conversations around him, he really does. But he finds himself distracted every time Parker moves next to him or laughs at someone else’s joke. This is a continued pattern throughout the evening, but he’s not exactly complaining. They sit close together as everyone eats, Spencer with his arm around the back of Parker’s chair, his fingers brushing along her shoulder every now and then. When they all part ways, Parker follows Spencer to his car and they ask about each other’s days on the drive home. He tells her about the case they’ve just closed this week - one close to home this time, thankfully. She tells him about Garcia dragging her all over creation for shopping until they found a look she felt right in.

A comfortable silence falls over them as they ride the elevator up to the apartment, and Parker yawns quietly as Spencer lets them in. She pads into her room to change while Spencer puts their leftovers away, and when he slips into his bedroom to change, he spies her through the crack in the bathroom door, staring at herself in the mirror and brushing her hands through her hair slowly. He changes into his pajamas and pads over, knocking at the door lightly and poking his head in when she hums approval.

They brush their teeth beside each other quietly, making eye contact in the mirror every now and then, and Parker follows him out, then pads into her room, where she collapses on the bed spread-eagle as Spencer hovers in the doorway. Laughing softly, he pads in and drops next to her, grinning when she grunts dramatically and rolls into him. Settling an arm around her, he brushes his fingers through her short hair, humming.

“Why’d you cut it?” He asks softly, glancing down at her. She shrugs a little, shifting to rest her cheek against his chest and staring out the window as it begins to rain. He waits patiently, knowing he’ll get his answer eventually.

“I just.. Didn’t wanna be that girl anymore.” She murmurs, draping an arm around him. “It was like.. Every time I looked in the mirror, I was still that girl, stuck in that awful house, and I couldn’t - I couldn’t stand it.” He can hear tears in her voice now, and he holds her a little closer, his heart breaking a little. “Penelope and I were walking past a salon and I looked in and saw this girl getting her hair cut and I just.. I had to do it.”

Spencer hums, nodding slowly. Looking down at Parker, he brushes her cheek, smiling gently when she looks up at him. “I think it looks great.” He murmurs sincerely, smiling a little when she does. She settles closer and he kisses her hair gently, shifting to pull the blanket up over them. Her breaths even out, and for the first time in a long time, there are no nightmares.

I knew who I was this morning, but I’ve changed a few times since then. - Author Lewis Carroll

[thisismyjourney2022]

“The one who falls and gets up is so much stronger than the one who never fell”

Hello world! Wow, how long has it been? My last entry was back in August. So be prepared for a long entry, but as always thank you for taking the time to read it.

 I talked about my decision to go to Over Eaters Anonymous. I went to four meetings, and each meeting made me think and realize(as bad as it sounds) that I was not as bad as all the other people who went to those meetings. I would leave the meetings feeling better about myself. Crazy as that sounds. After those few meetings, I decided I just did not belong there, so I stopped going. 

September was such a terrible, rough month for me. I was physically in a bad place(I was seldomly) going to the gym, I’d keep pushing it off and just finding those excuses for not going. And even worse mentally in a really really bad place. Over the summer, me and 3 of my girlfriends planned a girls weekend in Atlantic City, we were looking forward to this weekend for 2 months. I bought a new dress and I was so excited to see my friends and for a night out in AC. However the week going into it, my mind started to take over and not in a good way. 

I met my friend Nick for drinks that week, and we were talking about my weekend. I was saying how I did not want to go anymore because I did not want to be seen in my dress, and I did not want to be seen with my friends because I was going to be seen as the bigger one and I was feeling super self conscious and my anxiety level was sky high. I even texted my friends and told them that I was thinking about bailing out on the weekend because I wasn’t feeling good about myself and I did not want to be seen with them. Of course being my friends they all told me that I did not need to feel that way, that I was beautiful and all that stuff,, and that we were all going to have a great time.

The weekend finally arrived and I drove down to AC a little earlier to meet my friend(who was also there for the weekend) at the beach. I was already starting to feel a little anxious and was really wishing that I had backed out like I wanted to.  She then tells me that Nick messaged her and asked if I ended up going because he wanted me to go and have a good time. It was sweet to know that I had friends who cared enough about me. 

We get to the house and everyone is hanging out, talking, but not me. I felt so out of place and so uncomfortable. My mind had every negative thought in there that was possible. It bothered me that everyone was being asked, “So are you seeing anyone? Do you have a boyfriend, etc”? Yet, I was only being asked, “Hows work going?” My self esteem was already low and not being involved in those questions, made me feel like my feelings were being validated, that even my friends didn’t see me as someone worth having a boyfriend or having someone who wanted to talk to me. After we all got ready, we went to the club. After being there for roughly 30 min., I knew I had to leave. Something in my body just couldn’t take it. I left the club, stepped outside and started crying. I ubered back to the house by myself and just spent the rest of the night alone.

In the next week or so, I had doctors. I went into the room, and the doctor first thing she says to me is, “Are you okay?” I just started crying. I told her I’ve been sad for a few weeks and she said as soon as you walked in, I could tell that something as wrong. You weren’t smiling, your face and your affect was just so off.” I  told her I have a therapist and I had an appointment with her this week. She gave me tissues and gave me a hug.

That same week, I went to my therapist and we talked. I told her how I was feeling, while explaining it the best I could, because truthfully, I didn’t know what I was feeling or why I was feeling. I  just knew that was how I felt. My lack of drive was not only affecting me mentally, but physically. I hadn’t made any progress with my weight loss because I just didn’t care and I could not find the strength enough to care. My mind was an emotional roller coaster and I was the only one in charge of the ride. 

September finally came to an end, and without realizing it my mood started to change. I found myself smiling more and not feeling so down. I don’t know what happened, or how it happened. But I’m glad something clicked. 

Every year, my family holds a race for my cousins foundation. He passed away 12 years ago, and his brother started a foundation in his memory to help families dealing with pediatric cancer. We have raffles and giveaways, and for the first time, we have a vendor from a gym, a bootcamp to be exact. They were offering a 2 week free trial, so I decided what do I have to lose? I signed up and ended up going about a week or two later.

My most recent hurdle was regarding my health. I went to the eye doctor back in November for a way over due eye exam. The doctor started asking me all these questions, and I didn’t know why he was. So he took the picture behind my eyes and finally explained everything. He showed me the picture of what my eyes looked like and he told me that my eyes and the veins behind my eyes were bulging. There was so much excess pressure in my head that it was pressing up against my eyes and causing all the pain and the headaches and migraines I had been dealing with over a long period of time. I explained how I was taking salsa dancing which i I loved, but had to stop because the simple turns would destroy me. I felt as if the whole room was spinning and I’d be out for 5 minutes trying to regain my composure and balance. He said, “That isn’t normal.” But for me, it was normal, I didn’t know anything else. He said the excess pressure a a probable cause for why the turns affected me so badly. 

He had to consult my neurologist and together they both decided that I needed to get MRIs done as soon as possible to rule out anything, so of course your mind always thinks of the worst case scenario. Prior to me getting the MRIs done, and after waiting until I got all the results, I thought the worst. I thought I had a brain tumor and started googling all the possibilities. Worst thing ever to do.

If everything came back negative, I was to have a spinal tap done. Thankfully, the MRI results came back negative. But that meant that a spinal tap was needed. So super long story short, spinal tap was done, fluid was removed, however I still needed to go to doctors.  I’ve been to an eye doctor that specializes in neurology, have to do more testing with them. On Friday, I had an appointment with a neuro specialist, He wants more tests to be done and then we go from there. 

It’s been a super stressful time, and honestly just doing the days one day at a time. But the most stressful and aggravating part of it all is that I was told what I have is rare. When it presents itself, it occurs in girls my age, who are overweight.

When I heard that it made me so angry. In the past 10 months(at this point) I was down 30 lbs, but yet my symptoms only got worse over the past few months with my increasing headaches and pain in my head. 

Yet, another thing that affected my life because of my weight, sigh.

My 33th birthday just passed and I made a vow to myself that it was going to be different this year. So I decided to make some changes. I got a tattoo to represent where I am in my life and my journey thus far. (I am less than a month away from reaching my 1 year mark!) 

My tattoo says, “I ain’t sayin I’m perfect, but I promise I’m worth it.” 

It is something that took me a looooong time to realize. I’m still realizing it. I’m 1000% not perfect, but I know I’m worth the good things that life brings me. 

I also changed my hairstyle. Cut my hair a little shorter and got bangs. I needed to start the new year of my life, as a new person, a better version of the person I am. 

I joined the biggest loser competition at work in November, and I found out on the last day of school before break that I WON!!!!

Never in my wildest dreams would I ever ever think that I would have won a weight loss competition, especially with how my life was last year in regards to my eating habits and lack of physical activity. 

It has been a crazy year with this journey, as hard as it’s been, as many times that I’ve fallen, and that many bumps along the road, I’ve managed to always get back up. There have been times where I thought I didn’t have the strength to, but somehow strength happened when I needed it the most. 

My cousin texted me the other day with this message, “ Hi sweetheart! I always thought you were soo pretty but your new haircut your smile that lights up a room, your weight loss you are even more prettier. Not because you lost the weight but your confidence is shining through and it looks great!”

I can’t lie, that message made me cry. It was so sweet, and especially because it was something that I was not expecting. 

Year 2020 is only a few days away, and I am ready to take it down.

I joined a new challenge at the bootcamp that I joined, and it starts a day before my 1 year mark, so I’m excited to continue my journey with a whole new outlook!

Speaking of the bootcamp,

BEST DECISION EVER. 

I’ve been going for two months and I feel stronger. Since I’ve started, I’ve gone down 15 lbs and lost 16 inches around my whole body. How insane?? I’ve had my falls, but I’ve managed to get back up! I am only 4 lbs away from my 40lb weight loss! Me??? almost 40 lbs down. I can’t believe it.

Okay, wow that was a lot. Thank you to everyone who actually sat through and read the entire entry! 

Still hope I’m making everyone proud.

xoxo

Team Chrissie

[justheretobreakthings]

Welcome to the Family - Chapter 3

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Word Count: 2,151 (Total Word Count: 6,340) Read on AO3

Story Summary: Lance had been excited about his family taking in a foster kid, eager to get to meet his brand new little brother or sister, who would surely adore and idolize their super cool Big Brother Lance. What he got instead was a sullen, quiet, temperamental teenage housemate with a criminal record and a disastrous haircut.

Lance: hes here. car just pulled into the street

Pidge: Tell him hi from us.

Lance: he doesnt know u

Pidge: So that means we can’t be friendly?

Hunk: what’s he like?

Lance: idk hes not even thru the door yet. text u back soon

Lance shut off the screen of his phone and shoved it into his pocket as he got up to bound down the staircase where he’d been perched on the top step. “Rachel!” he called as he descended. “Keith’s here!”

“You don’t need to yell,” Rachel spoke up from where she’d been lounging across the couch in the front room. She sat up, closing her laptop and setting it aside before she stretched and looked over to where Lance had landed and was now trying to peer into the driveway through the frosted-glass window of the front door. “You spotted him?”

“Yeah, he’s getting out of the car now,” Lance answered, face still pressed to the glass.

“What does he look like?”

“Blurry.”

“Should have guessed. Step back from the door, would you, Lance? You’re gonna freak him out.”

Right as she said it the doorknob began turning, and Lance jumped back, narrowly avoiding being hit in the face by the door as it swung inward to usher in his broadly smiling mother. “Lance, Rach- oh, good, you’re both here,” she said. “You two ready to say hi to your new brother? Come on in, Keith, come meet the family. Well, two of the family.”

She stepped aside to make room for the other figure walking up the front steps, and Lance got his first good look at his new brother.

The first descriptor that crossed Lance’s mind at the sight of Keith was ‘emo’, but that wasn’t quite the right fit. The pale skin and black hair looked to be their natural tones, not makeup or hair dye, and he also didn’t have any jewelry or nail polish or decals on his clothes to indicate that he may have been going for that sort of aesthetic. He just had the colors right, what with the black of his tee shirt and scuffed shoes and jeans that looked to be growing too small on him, and the red of the red zip-up sweatshirt he wore over it even in the middle of August in Arizona.

He did, though, do a great job of pulling off that distinctly emo ‘don’t talk to me, don’t look at me, don’t look in my direction, life is pain’ scowl that he wore across his face - a face which, with its smooth features and bold indigo eyes, could have been good-looking if it weren’t for the thick brown-pink mark slicing through one of his cheeks and the surrounding mane of hair that was so uneven it looked as if it had been cut with gardening shears.

Still, Lance had seen worse, and appearances could be deceiving; this could still be a great, fun guy to have around. So he kept up his smile as he said, “I’m Lance, nice to meetcha.”

Keith nodded silently in greeting, and did the same to Rachel when she introduced herself as well, but didn’t offer his own name in return. “So, uh,” Lance said, “Mamá said that you’re going into sophomore year too, yeah? So the two of us, we’re gonna be classmates as well as brothers. That’ll - that’ll be fun.”

Again Keith was silent, just shrugging in reply, and Lance frowned and turned to his mother. “¿Puede él hablar?” he asked her. Can he talk?

“Sí,” she answered. “Y él no habla español, así que no seas grosero.” Yes, and he doesn’t speak Spanish, so don’t be rude. A glance back toward Keith confirmed this, as his eyes were narrowed and darting back and forth between the two of them, brows bunched in confusion. Lance simply clicked his tongue, settling back with hands on his hips. There was nothing rude about speaking his own language in his own home.

“Now, Keith,” his mother continued, “Do you want me to give you a tour of the house first, or do you want to start unpacking your things?”

“Um, tour’s fine,” Keith mumbled, faint but still loudly enough for Lance to finally get to hear his voice. It was low and just a little raspy, although the rasp may just have been from the low volume.

“Excellent!” his mother said. “I could have Lance or Rachel drop you duffel into your room so you - ”

“No,” Keith said sharply, pulling his bag back and moving to grip the shoulder strap with both hands.

“Suit yourself,” she said with an easy shrug, as if there was nothing even remotely unusual or suspicious about that sort of response. “We’ve got the family room here, and you’re free to use the family Netflix account on the TV as much as you want, and there’s a Nintendo Playstation hooked up to the - ”

“Those are two different things, Mamá,” Rachel interrupted. “And we have an Xbox, which is neither of those.”

“Oh, well, whatever it is, if you want to play video games, you can use that. The dining room’s this way - mind that coat rack, dear, it tips easily, I keep saying that we need to get a new one, maybe hooks on the wall instead or something, just never do get around to it - and through here is the kitchen, I’ll show you where everything goes - ”

She guided Keith through the dining room, initially trying to put a hand on his shoulder to steer him, but simply leading the way touch-free after he grimaced and shrugged the hand off of him. Lance followed, idly pulling his phone from his pocket to see a handful of new texts from Pidge and Hunk asking for more details about Keith. He shot them a quick response.

Lance: hes quiet

He watched as his mother opened and closed drawers and cupboards one after another, showing Keith where they kept the cutlery, bowls, plates, canned goods, cereal, pots and pans, instructing him on what goes where in the fridge and demonstrating which burner on the stove didn’t work, all while Keith maintained that perpetual scowl, answering only with soft grunts, before adding:

Lance: and kinda grouchy

He shut his phone’s screen off and tagged along as his mother and Keith moved on to the home office and bathroom and then downstairs to the basement, waiting until the tour had made its way to the laundry room and his mother began explaining how their washer and dryer worked before looking at Pidge and Hunk’s two very different replies.

Pidge: Of course he’s grouchy, he just discovered he’s going to be living with YOU.

Hunk: He’s probably just nervous.

Lance made a face and texted back.

Lance: im a DELIGHT to live with jsyk. & hes def giving off sort of an emo vibe

Pidge: How emo?

Lance: what do u mean

Pidge: On a scale of 1-10.

Lance: u cant quantify emo

He nearly didn’t notice the laundry crash course wrapping up and his mother and Keith heading out the door of the laundry room, so he saved the texting for later and hastened to follow as they started upstairs toward the bedroom.

His mother didn’t give a thorough tour of the rooms, to Lance’s relief, just quick peeks inside and naming which room belonged to whom. “Excuse the mess,” she said when she opened Lance’s door. “I swear, mijo, you have more clothes on your floor than you wear in a year.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” Lance said, rolling his eyes. Honestly, his mother had once seen Pidge’s room when the Holts had had the McClains over for dinner; she should have forfeited all rights to complain about messes on that fateful night.

“And here’s your bedroom, Keith,” his mother said, reaching the door at the end of the hall and opening it to reveal the skeleton of Luis and Marco’s former room, now empty with bare surfaces on the dresser and desk and bookshelf from their long lack of occupancy. “Once you’re settled in we can do a bit of decorating to help it feel more homey, if you’d like. I mentioned that shopping trip we could take sometime soon, get some new things for you?” She glanced toward Keith’s duffel bag before asking, “Does this room work all right for you? You need anything?”

“I’m fine,” Keith said softly.

“That’s good, that’s good. Well, now that you’ve got the lay of the land, I’m going to get dinner started up. Veronica should be coming home any minute, and Manuel will definitely be home for dinner, so I’ll make sure they stop and stay hello when they show up. Lance, be a lamb and help Keith get his stuff unpacked and in their places, would you?”

“Sure, Mamá,” Lance replied as his mother sidled out the room. “There more bags in the car for me to bring in, or - ?”

“No, just the one.” Lance raised a brow, about to ask why Keith would need help unpacking just one bag, but his mother leaned in to whisper, “Talk to him, okay? Just make him feel welcome.”

That made more sense. Lance eased his way into the room as his mother left. Keith had already set his bag onto the bed and was removing a little stack of shirts from it. “You, uh, need any help with that?” Lance asked.

Keith scowled over at him. Which was fair; that stack of shirts probably weighed two pounds at most. “Ah, I just meant, you know where that stuff goes?”

“... The dresser?”

“Yeah. You - you got this, sorry.” Lance rocked on his heels as Keith moved toward the dresser, the latter still eyeing him cautiously. “So, uh,” Lance tried again, “Where you from?”

“Around,” Keith answered with a shrug.

Right. Foster kid. Probably moved around a lot. He was on a roll with stupid questions. “Well, uh, where are you from, like, most recently? Before here?”

Keith paused, frozen halfway through setting his clothes down in a dresser drawer, and it was several seconds before he quietly answered, “Holbrook.”

“Don’t think I’ve heard of it,” Lance said. “You like it there?”

This time Keith didn’t answer at all, instead simply slamming the dresser drawer shut and moving back to his bag. He fished into it and pulled out a toothbrush and comb. “Where’s the bathroom again?” he asked.

“Second door on the left,” Lance answered, and Keith turned to leave the room without so much as glancing at Lance.

Lance simply rolled his eyes and strolled over to the bed, where he sat and glance into the open duffle bag. He nudged a gray sweatshirt aside to see a number of balled-up pairs of socks and boxers, a faded stuffed hippopotamus, and a few CDs in cases scattered across the bottom of the bag. He tilted his head to look at the titles. John Mellencamp, The Clash, Blue Cheer, a Chuck Barry CD with a spiderweb of cracks across the plastic case. Lance picked up ‘Janis Joplin’s Greatest Hits’, examining the remains of the garage sale sticker still covering the singer’s face. “So you’re into the old-timey, rock, huh? Funny, I would have pegged you more for MCR or Linkin Park or - ”

He hadn’t noticed Keith’s footsteps thundering down the hall until the other boy was already in the room, practically shoving Lance off the bed and yanking the bag back toward him. “Hey!” Lance yelped, grabbing onto the bedpost to keep from slipping onto the floor.

“Why were you going through my stuff?” Keith snarled, pulling the bag back further.

“Wha- I dunno, I was just, you know, seeing if you had, like - like, any interests or anything, that’s all. Calm down, man.”

That was probably the wrong thing to say, because Keith’s glare just darkened further. “Don’t touch my stuff,” he growled.

“I’m sorry. Is it, uh, is it because of the hippo? You don’t have to be embarrassed, I sleep with a stuffed animal too, lots of people do.”

Keith huffed and turned away from him. “I can unpack by myself. You can leave.”

“Are you… are you sure you don’t wanna, like, hang out, chat a bit?”

The scowl that Keith leveled in his direction was as firm a ‘no’ as humanly possible. So Lance sheepishly straightened up and headed out of the room, Keith shutting the door firmly behind him.

With a sigh, Lance pulled his phone back out, turning the screen on to see that Pidge had proposed an essay’s worth of criteria to quantify emo onto a ten-point scale. Ignoring that for now, Lance started to text.

Lance: hey hunk remember when u said keith was gonna be a cool friendly guy who will love hanging out with me?

Hunk: yeah? why?

Lance: guess what, im starting to think u were wrong

[punkcryptids]

LIFE IS STRANGE 2 EPISODE 3

okay, so throughout the recent life is strange games i have made posts such as this one; I would make a bullet-point list of my ideas and thoughts of the game, certain little lines or details and shit. i did this for the farewell episode, i think before the storm (at least one of the episodes), and captain spirit. i tried to do this for life is strange 2, but Tumblr fucking killed itself when i tried, like i even restarted the fucking episode to redo it. so i don't think ive done these for life is strange 2, but honestly they're a lot of fun to rant out my opinions of the game and the little details and shit so, without further ado, here's this -spoiler full- little list.

also, little sidenote: i had no clue this was supposed to come out, i heard jack shit about it so like, the day after it was released i saw an article, googled it, and fucking died and felt so stupid. so anyways. let's begin.

*spoilers ahead, ill tag the post too but smh once got anon hate over this shit*

ok just to start this off, the little like "last time on life is strange" refresher is really nice and unique and i fucking love it still

the wolf drawings v cute

not game related but this fucking incense im burning is floating across the screen and it's so fucking ominous

ALSO NOT GAME RELATED BUT FUCKIN MY HEADPHONES GIVING OUT

why the fuck is Chris a racoon

okay now game points for the a c t u a l fucking game??

ok this fuckin music fuckin kicking

ok i like the choice to start this episode with like a flashback, i really like that choice (also three bullet points in a row i start with "ok" v original)

yo sean wanna give me that weed bag? could use some brother skksks

fuck Daniel his room nice af

honestly the instant thought when Daniel came into Sean's room was that he was stealing his weed? cause I could've sworn that's where it was in the first episode

i love his dad sksksk

i hate that fucking toy okay, it's awful

ok low-key, i hate kids and if i Sean I'd be so annoyed? because like he came into Sean's room when he's been told not to, and like snuck in there, and then lied about Sean hitting him (bc I didn't hit him) and then as soon as Sean goes to apologize he's like "get out" like u little hypocritical shit hhhh. love Daniel but it's fuckin annoying

"and don't touch my stuff" (comes into Sean's room and touches shit)

LITERALLY FUCKING TOOK HIS WATCH BUT "don't touch my stuff"

Sean is a dick to Daniel sometimes but like he still acted like a good brother in the end and i would've been pissed so like good on Sean lmao

JESUS FUCK HIS HAIR

*inhales* AAAAAAAA

love the drawing of the deer smoking

wonder why they got kicked off the ranch

bRO A WEED FARM FUCK HIT ME UP SEAN WHAT U DOIN

i want a fucking joint Jesus Christ Sean fucking share? rude ass

ok so ur shirtless

good doggie

accidentally trapped the dog whoopsies

american grafitti

"fuckin ranch of hell AVOID" what the fuck happened there?

i like penny, he seems cool af

Daniel's fucking hair yikes

also why the hell he being a dick to us for? why the fuck it so hostile?

I like Finn too

"it was my turn" you had been throwing them?? for the entire morning wHY IS HE FUCKIN MAD AT US??

YOU FUCKING USED YOUR POWERS SO I WOULD MISS WHAT THE FUCK

NO FUCK YOU, YOU LITTLE ASSHOLE YOU JUST FUCKING THREW ME

Daniel is pissing me off I s2g

why is asking about the watch a "big choice"

oh okay so finn replaced sean and now daniel is just a little fucking asshole about it

big Joe big angry

he just fuckin hit her head what the fuck hell yeah I'll intervene fuck you??

why does he want to talk to me what the fuck did i do

okay if Daniel loses us this job i will fight him

am i really trimming weed rn i dont think y'all understand how much my stoner ass is jealous

uh? random ass glitch of flying scissors

okay whatever sounds effects are in the background of talking with Finn sound like lis 1 music and im freaked

if we get caught while training I'm murdering someone

new emo daniel

that music is fucking intense

"im not a kid anymore" I'm gonna fucking hit this kid I s2g

pass me the BONG

"how come you can and i can't" YOURE NINE DANIEL GODDAMN WAIT A COUPLE YEARS

I GET TO HIT THE BONG

ok Sean, you had one like mediocre bong hit and like two hits from that joint like you should not be that high. high screen is cool tho

ALSO HE DIDNT CLEAR IT THERE WAS STILL SMOKE

someone pass me more weed

I have taken 3 drinks of this beer and Sean cannot see anyone but the guy he's focusing on

i wanna stay with these guys ffs I don't want to go to mexico

fuckin daniel, hhh i feel bad that I didn't go with him but i wanna have fun :(

edgy boi now

IM ABOUT TO GET IN SO MUCH SHIT FUCK

this song is a bop tf

i feel like they haven't had as much copyrighted music in this season

nice work montage

i wish there was an option to say I'd buy Daniel some food that he wants :/ I get we have to save but fuck :/ trying to win big brother points and game won't let me

thank u Merrill im glad ur not mad at me uwu

DANIEL I SWEAR TO GOD

ARE YOU KIDDING ME

DID HE JUST

don't punch out finn i love him

why is Daniel showing him his powers like i get he threw the thing at big Joe but why this necessary,,,

can we give Daniel a haircut now like im sorry but his fuckin hair

FINN YOU CANNOT USE DANIEL TO BREAK INTO SHIT

they like took 1 drink of that beer and it was done what

you cannot fucking use daniel if they make me i will feel like shit

gimmie tattoo

ok ik I should probably say "wolf" bc of the symbolism throughout the game but like fuckin surprise me Cassidy

what is with this episode and fuckin nudity

i can literally see her nipple under the water wtf u good

I didn't talk to anyone else, just Finn and then fucked Cassidy so ya know

fucking finn are you fucking serious

shut the fuck up stop trying to convince me shit

fuck you I didn't fucking do this

fuck you finn

and you got him fucking shot you fucking proud? hm? fucking dick.

ok so Cassidy is still here, and Finn, and Merrill, and I swear to God, if fucking Daniel left us I will fucking

THERE'S A FUCKING GLASS SHARD IN MY FUCKING EYE ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME

okay so uh this episode? not my favorite. at all. especially because the choices didn't fucking matter. the "big" choices are supposed to fucking matter but they didn't and that really kinda pisses me off. and idk. i didn't care for this episode but like :/ time to wait till august