#or maybe this is the result of them going thrift shopping ! yeah! yeah

[harundraws]

Tai and Van falling through time and space on your dashboard ･ ｡

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　　　　 ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎* ☆ ｡･ﾟ*.｡ 　

yay i finally have something to post ! sharing a commission i finished for @amygobrrr ✨

"taivan being cute after rescue" but i put them in a ... fantastical setting?

[conversationsofyou]

                Chapter One:

The Only Living Boy In New York

"Give a girl the right shoes and she can conquer the world." 

~Marilyn Monroe

        

Song: Manhattan by Ella Fitzgerald & Buddy Bregman

Present day. 

The perfect ringlets that form naturally at the ends of Harry's hair, which were there this morning, have metamorphosed into effortless beachy waves most people envy. The usual result from Manhattan humidity and overly fussing about with his fingers. It's a shampoo commercial moment as it falls against his back.

Harry squeezes the bridge of his nose, a temporary relief from sinus pressure. "Are we done?" he asks with his eyes closed.

He wonders if Zayn would notice if he took a kip on the chaise by the toilets. 

                   

“Never,” Zayn responds whilst his nimble fingers sort through a display of Celine totes.

He would.

To Zayn's dismay, Harry's met his limit of consumerism for the day. He typically loves to shop; specifically when it's time to restock his art studio. Although, he's accustomed to leisurely drifting in and out of thrift shops and vintage boutiques. He allows clothing and accessories to find him. This… this has been an Olympic event. Zayn warned him beforehand that his rookie status wouldn't be tolerated today.  

After an extensive marathon of pampering and excess, Harry's eager to go home and decompress from their shopping extravaganza. He loves Zayn fiercely, but Harry's borderline fatigued. This is the sixth or tenth store they've been to; he's lost count. Each one, serving a different purpose. Zayn had to explain this to him, like he did at the last three stores. 

"This isn't one of your nifty thrifty's, darling. There's no one-stop shop for all our needs. Well, maybe Bergdorf's." 

A crash course in fashion's utility as such has been mentally and physically strenuous. If they’d concluded this field trip after facials at the spa and mimosa brunch, Harry’d be in complete nirvana.

However, the tranquil mood a much needed massage had granted him has now been replaced with extreme tension in his muscles. His sciatica keeps jolting his nerves into spasm and his toes are most definitely numb. He would've worn trainers instead of his beloved boots if he knew it was going to be this intense.

"It costs a lot to be this beautiful," Zayn throws some more fortune cookie wisdom his way as he picks up a Louis Vuitton bum bag. 

"I lost my soul somewhere between Mercer and Broome," he responds dryly.

"We can't all be as cool as you." 

“Matt got this shirt for me in Tokyo,” Harry tugs at the end of a vintage Queen t-shirt from the eighties. 

Zayn looks up at him and smiles softly. “He had the best finds. I know it's sentimental, but I also know for a fact that Matt would've told you to buy whatever the fuck you please after selling out your first exhibition. This is a triumph for you. You're allowed.”

"I've bought some things since then." 

"Interior design excluded." Zayn's mouth twitches. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry concedes. "So, what's on the menu here?" 

There's no other option than to swim with the current force that is Zayn.

He looks at Harry, contemplating his wardrobe journey. "This place has phenomenal denim…" He holds his hands in the air, scanning the store, like a director setting up their next frame. "Thinking of some new washes. You'd look fabulous in a mid-blue rinse." Zayn turns back to him and tilts his head. "There are other colors besides black." 

"What's wrong with black jeans?"

"Nothing. Doesn't mean you have to wear them every day. You're not Superman."

Harry arches an eyebrow. "Aren't I?" 

Zayn ignores him while admiring a Givenchy satchel. He adjusts the collar on his gorgeous Alexander McQueen gunmetal leather jacket. It's not nearly cold enough yet for the biker chic inspired hide, but as he declared before they left Harry's flat, “We must suffer for fashion the same way we do for art."

Zayn glances over at him. "I do adore your vintage, starving artist tees and ripped jeans." He offers some reassurance. "Even though you could do with a little glam rock." Though he often makes fun, Zayn's admitted in the past he approves of Harry's style choices. No matter how eccentric they are. His eyes land on Harry's boots. "Starting with those." 

Harry looks down at the worn out brown leather boots he found at one of the first thrift shops he visited in the city. He treasures them. They've given him so many miles. He'll never part with them.

He looks back up. "No." 

“Veronica!” Zayn calls out and, like a best laid plan, a tall sales associate appears with silky raven tresses styled into a long bob haircut. Veronica approaches them wearing a stunning bordeaux Bowie inspired jumpsuit. Lipstick the same shade. It captures Harry's eye instantly.

She walks over and magically produces a large box with the Saint Laurent Paris logo printed onto it. Ignoring the box, Harry scans the details of Veronica's ensemble as he admires her whole look.

Zayn catches Harry's eye and asks, "Who makes this?" As he brushes a finger over the fabric of her sleeve. 

"Custom," Veronica responds vaguely. 

It's unique and Harry can understand her discretion. 

"H, you'll sympathize as an artist. When anything innovative or gorgeous as this is mass produced, it usually turns to shit. There's something about a piece being one of a kind that's priceless."

Veronica nods her head once.

"I wouldn't share either." Zayn nods back and brings the focus back to Harry, who automatically shakes his head at the box he's holding.

Zayn clears his throat, ignoring his stubbornness and signals for the big reveal. Veronica lifts the lid and Harry swears a little golden light appears, leaving a glow shining from the box.

 

Zayn tilts the box closer to him for the full effect. "Harry, let me introduce you to your new friend, Chelsea."

He holds up the gorgeous, buttery tan suede heeled boots. "Classic and a forever staple." 

"My mother, grandmothers, and aunts all passed down their retail D.N.A. to me. These," he gestures to the boots, "are an investment." Zayn imparts some more wisdom.

Harry ignores his rising heart rate and briefly hesitates. Inevitably he gives in, running his fingers along the soft leather. The sensation is divine and smells heady in the best way possible. Boots have always been his weakness. He succumbs.

"Fine," he says like it's an imposition and grabs the boots. 

He sits down to try them on and takes off his old boots while placing the faded leather comrades next to a plush chair beside him. He's wearing his Hello Kitty socks today.

"Precious," Veronica comments and walks away towards another customer who's borderline distressed.

Song: Get On Your Boots by U2

Harry meticulously takes out all of the cardboard and packing paper. The boots slip on like a second skin. He stands up, beaming.

"Yeah. Thought so," he smirks. Zayn's super hero sixth sense always prevails. He knew Harry would eventually buckle for the gorgeous footwear.

Harry spins around in front of the mirror and does a little jig with his toes pointed.

Zayn shakes his head as he walks away. "I'm going to look for some jeans."

Harry gives him a salute and walks around the store, enjoying the boots that have already changed his life a little bit. They even have a slight heel. The soles produce a satisfying clacking sound against the stone floor as he strolls back to his old boots. They look so sad, slouching against the chair, out of shape and worn with holes. Harry frowns and picks them up. He knows it's corny but, "Still love you the best. Thank you for taking me where I needed to be," he says quietly.

Someone within his ear shot snorts, and he gently drops the boots. Harry looks up slightly embarrassed.

☆ This was definitely more than a snippet. A snip deluxe. I'd love to one day finish this fic I started seven years ago. All the inspo to my fellow writers and creators who have started something and life has gotten in the way or time is not of the essence. I empathize and relate on all levels.

Shout out to my Beta, Lau @nyxdaughterofkhaos , nothing but love and respect!!! Looking forward to continuing this journey with you ❤️

As always, if anyone has any art to share.

@kingsofeverything @crinkle-eyed-boo @twopoppies @beelou @fallinglikethis @femstyles @harryshandbag @andyouknowitis @lookslikefairytale @rhea-the-eradicator @toomanydreamers

[nickgerlich]

Wearing It Well

It’s funny how an activity can go from low-brow proletariat, to on-trend chic in a short period of time. But inflation and economic uncertainty can cause tidal shifts in mind and mood. Just ask my daughters, for whom thrifting can take up an entire Saturday when one goes to visit the other. Never mind any gender differences, I never would have thought of doing that at any stage in my life.

There’s something unsettling to me about buying someone else’s clothes. Even a used camera or bike will give me hesitation, because I don’t know how the previous owner used them. Oh, and the stigma associated with having to buy someone’s cast-offs? When I was growing up, that was a badge of dishonor.

Said the guy who hasn’t bought a brand-new vehicle since 1991. Oh well, my money, my exception.

The fact of the matter is, resale in all its forms is now a huge part of the economy, and in many cases, escapes the wrath of the tax man. Any stigma associated with buying used has faded to new lows, and maybe it’s high time I opened my mind to the possibility.

One could argue that it all started with garage sales in the 1970s, which became very commonplace in suburbia. In 1995, the launches of eBay and CraigsList took it all online. In 1998, Plato’s Closet opened. These franchised thrift stores focused on a younger demographic, and encouraged the wear-and-share economy.

Today, we can add Facebook Marketplace to the mix, as well as a slew of resale shops, many of which are chains like Clothes Mentor, as well as online thrifters like thredUP, Poshmark, and others. It has never been easier to sell your gently-used clothes.And it doesn’t end there. MPB.com is the biggest online shop for used camera gear, while The Pro’s Closet and Bike Exchange do the same for high-end bicycles.

A recent survey said that 85% of Americans say they bought or sold items in the last year. That’s significant. For sellers, they’re clearing out things in closets and garages that are sitting idle, and it provides cash at a time when we could all use a little more. For buyers, they’re scooping up bargains that also translate into cash savings at a time when we need it. Did you notice what happened to the price of gasoline in the nation’s midsection the last ten days? If you use 20 gallons a week, that’s $9-10 a week that your cost of living just shot up.

But there are other forces at play as well, and they have a lot to do with a growing sense of personal responsibility and sustainability. Our economy is consumer-driven, with about 70% of GDP accounted for by consumer purchasing. Why hoard things when someone else could be using them? And why toss them in the dumpster when there is still some useable life remaining?

Concerns about being good citizens is the most compelling argument for me, although I am certainly not opposed to saving money. A good laundering or two can wash away any old germs the previous owner left behind (not to mention their DNA, I hope).

As for bikes and cameras, unless I know the seller, I still have concerns. Subtle cracks in a bike frame can lead to catastrophic results when zooming down a mountain; a dropped camera or lens brings with it other worries. Once again, if I know the seller and have seen them use said equipment, I might just feel better about buying it.

The effect of all this thrifting will be felt at retail for years to come, because anyone selling brand new merchandise is going to pay the price. Yeah, I get it. The availability of resale items is totally contingent upon someone buying ever more new items. It is a cycle. There will always be those who buy new.

Furthermore, unless these transactions occur in resale and consignment shops, they dodged the tax bullet. Well, the exception is motor vehicles, because they will get you when you try to register it, but otherwise, the after-market P2P economy is very much alive and well. I don’t think many consumers will cry over declining sales tax revenues.

But at least we are helping create a loop out of our consumption. It can go on and on for as long as the item still has a few ounces of value remaining. And the more we can keep out of landfills, as well as our closets and garages, the better off we will all be. It is the hallmark of a capitalist society that such a large part of GDP is determined by We The People, but that’s a one-way highway.

By making it a loop, we can bypass the unwanted, ugly artifacts associated with all that manufacturing and consuming. Use it, and use it up, whether that responsibility is spread across one or a dozen people.

Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s time for me to go survey my closet. I bet I can clear out a lot of space.

Dr “Like All Those Clothes When I Could Still Wear A 30” Waste” Gerlich

Audio Blog

[predalien]

So remember in the 2nd movie from predators when one of the predators gave (I forgot the characters name it’s been a long time since I’ve seen it) the gun and it’s the same gun from Prey? And then do you think the predator from Prey was part of a clan? If so do you think they would know that Naru killed him?

Ooh, okay, I didn’t know that lol that’s a cool little Easter egg

Anyways, linking back to your last ask, I think that there’s many ways that the yautja clan that Feral (the yautja) was apart of got ahold of that gun.

Which also leads me into your other question, yes, Feral definitely apart of a clan and, I think that considering the gun was found in possession of the Lost Tribe/Los Angeles Haunting Party (Predator 2 clan that Pussyface was a part of), Feral might’ve been apart of that same clan/hunting party.

I do think there’s a possibility that they know Naru killed him. Yautja technology is pretty advanced, even for the time period that Prey took place in, the technology was still, ya know, highly advanced alien tech. Communications through their tech must’ve been a thing so they must’ve noticed in some way or another that Feral was killed. Even if it’s not through the technology, the clan would’ve still come back to pick up Feral from his hunt. I do wonder if the tech has tracking systems or something like that too, like maybe an alert would be given if a clan member’s vitals all of sudden stopped or if the technology went off the line, ya know? Like if the tech took major damage.

Which also leads into my theory of how the clan came back into possession of the gun. Also, side note, I did some digging to see if it was just simply a little funny production joke (much like how every character in the movies says “If it bleeds, we can kill it”) but I found that the addition of the same gun was more than just intentional. Like considering the lengths the production crew went through to get a replica of the original gun I think that they were trying to convey something and that the appearance of the gun wasn’t just a little joke/easter egg.

Okay, now as for how exactly the clan came into possession of the gun? Like I said, there’s many ways how and I personally think all of them are viable. Maybe another member went through the same hunt that Feral did and came into possession of the gun, perhaps as a trophy or a sort of “this is what killed my clan member” sort of memorial thing. Or what if the yautja just simply wanted it because “ooh silly little human technology lets study it and keep it for research purposes”. Maybe there were a bunch of unrelated things that happen down the line from the end of the movie, that would eventually result in the gun falling into possession of the clan (like those stories you read about the prop from a movie or music video somehow falling into possession of a man who had no idea how he even go it and bought it because he saw it at a pawn shop or thrift store).

Yeah, I’m sure you get it. I have no one single idea as to how exactly they got a hold of it. Mostly just up to viewer interpretations at the moment I guess

[avengerscompound]

Running to a Standstill - 6

Running to a Standstill: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count:  2015

Rating:  E

Square filled: none for this chapter

Warnings: none

Synopsis: While on the run from an unknown organization trying to take your son, you meet two super-soldiers.  While they try to help you get to the bottom of who is hunting you and your son, feelings come out and admissions are made that make your personal life even more tricky.

Chapter 6

“You're sure you’ll be okay looking after him, Bucky?” You asked, as you rifled through your wardrobe.  Bucky sat on the bed playing some kind of game on the tablet with Geo where they had to tap fish as they swam past.  “Tony took him to the lab today and it made him all hyper.”

Bucky chuckled.  “I bet it did.  But I'll be fine.  If Clint can handle looking after him, I can.”

“Clint had Natasha with him,” you argued.

“True,” Bucky said.  “And I'll have FRIDAY.”

“I'm happy to help take care of my favorite kid,” the AI added.

“Dey can weed me a stowie,” Geo said matter-of-factly.

You nodded and went right back to what you were doing.  You weren't sure what to wear.  You only had one nice dress and Steve has already seen it.  There was also the question as to why he was taking you out at all.  Things had seemed to cool off between you.  Not completely, he’d cuddle with you, and there were pecks hello or goodbye, but it wasn’t going forward how a relationship normally did.  He’d invited you out and said the two of you needed to talk and your head went racing.  Did he want to end it?  Did he have information about who was after you?  Did he want to take it to the next level?  You were panicking and you didn’t know why he was torturing you like this.

“You going on an archaeological dig in there?”  Bucky asked as you began to rifle back through the clothes you had already decided weren’t good enough.

“I don’t have anything to wear,” you complained.  You turned and looked at Bucky.  “He said we needed to talk.  Is he going to break up with me?”

“Wow,” Bucky deadpanned.  “You been hanging out with me too much?  That sounded like where my head would go.”

“Well, it’s not like we’ve been moving forward at all,” you huffed.  “Is it about the people after us?”

“No, we’d just tell you that.  We keep hitting dead ends,” Bucky said.

“I really like him, Bucky,” you implored.  It felt a little weird dumping all this on Bucky.  He was Steve’s best friend and knowing how Steve felt about him felt a little unfair.  Not that you could blame Steve for his feelings.  Bucky was sweet and sexy and had a little edge of danger about him.  It was a strange situation because as it stood, it felt like you were romantically in the exact same place with Bucky as you were with Steve, only Steve had been the one you’d been set up with.  It was like you could lean in either direction and have an actual romantic relationship, except neither was willing to go any further than they were now.   “But now it’s just like… we’re stuck in this in-between zone.  I want more but it’s kind of like he’s just humoring me now.”

Bucky looked up at you with a pained expression on his face and you knew you’d overstepped a line.  “Forget it. I’m sorry, Buck,” you said turning and going back to trying to find something to wear.

Bucky got up off the bed and moved over to you.  He seemed to hesitate for a minute before putting his hand on your hip.  It was an intimate gesture and it sent a slight shiver through you.  “Get out of your head,” he said and pulled out a pair of jeans from your wardrobe.  “Steve’s a good guy.  He’s not the kind of guy who leads people on.  You’re just in an unusual situation.  Tell him how you feel.”  He grabbed a black tank top next.  “Now, those two, your wrap, and some jewelry.  And tomorrow I’ll tell Wanda she should take you shopping.”

“I don’t -” you protested.

“No.  Wanda is our heaviest hitter,” Bucky said cutting you off.  “And she loves shopping for clothes and she’s really good at thrift shopping - so if you won’t take money, she’ll get you a bargain.”

You nodded.  You couldn't pretend that wasn’t a nice thought. The last time you’d been shopping with anyone was before Geo was born.

“Alright,” Bucky said.  “I’ll leave you to get dressed.  You okay?”

You nodded again and turned into his arms, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your cheek against his shoulder.  He tensed for a moment before his arms closed around you and he held you, taking a deep breath.  “Thank you,” you whispered.

“It’s alright.  I get it.  It’s hard when you don’t know who you can trust,” he said quietly.  “I know me saying it won’t help much, but you can trust Steve.  Maybe you won’t work out, but he’s not gonna hurt you like that.”

You nodded and slowly pulled back.  “Thank you,” you repeated.  “You’re really sweet you know?”

Bucky chuckled and picked up Geo.  “That is not something I’ve ever been described as.”

You got dressed in what Bucky suggested, accessorizing as best you could.  You were just starting on your hair and makeup when there was a soft knock on the door.  “Come in!” You called, assuming it was Steve wanting you to hurry up.

Instead, a young, auburn-haired woman entered.  “Hello,” she said.  She had a strong accent and a soft smile.  It took a second for it to click that this was Wanda.  The public always spoke about her like some kind of monster and the pictures you’d seen she was always using her powers, her eyes glowing red and a scowl on her face.  This young, soft-looking woman didn’t mesh at all with how she was portrayed in the media.  “I’m Wanda.  Bucky called asking if you could borrow some jewelry for your date.”

“Oh,” you said, embarrassment washing over you.  “I mean… I don’t…”

She smiled again and sat down on the bed opening up her bag.  “Don’t be embarrassed.  He was trying to help.  I was homeless for a while.  I know what it’s like just having to keep what you can carry with you.  And I have a lot of jewelry.”

She took out a selection of things and offered them to you.  “Are you sure you don’t mind?”  You asked.

“Not at all,” she replied.  “I like to share what I have.”

You picked out some brightly colored enamel bracelets, a couple of rings, and a layered beaded necklace.  She helped you with your hair and makeup and when you got up to put your shawl on she stopped you.  “Here, use this,” she said and took out a shawl from her bag that had been hand embroidered with red roses on it.

“It’s beautiful,” you said, wrapping it around your shoulders.

“Thank you,” she said.  “I made it myself.”

“Wow, you’re so talented,” you said, admiring yourself in the mirror.  Bucky had been right, the black jeans and tank top had been the perfect base to build on.  You really liked the end result.  It was casual but playful and that little bit sexy.

“You look beautiful,” Wanda said.  “Have fun.”

“I’ll try,” you said and headed out.  Buck was cooking and he smiled as he looked you over.  Steve jumped to his feet when you came out.  “Wow, you look great,” he said.

“Wow?” You teased.  “Rude.”

He laughed.  “You know what I mean.  You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” you agreed.

“You two be good,” Bucky called as Steve offered you his arm and the two of you headed out.

“Your friends are really nice, Steve,” you said, as you rode the elevator down with him.

“Yeah,” he agreed.  “We’re kind of more family now.  I’m lucky to have them.”

You smiled and nodded.  “What did you want to talk about?  Is it the people after us?”

He shook his head.  “No.  I promise as soon as we know something, we’ll tell you.”

You frowned and let out a breath.  “What is it then?”

“We’re not going very far.  It’s a restaurant just over the road.  Why don’t we wait until we’re sitting,”  Steve suggested.

It felt like your heart only just started beating faster.  You wished he’d just get it over with and tear that band-aid off.  He led you to a modern looking restaurant across the road.  You were seated immediately at a table upstairs that looked over the rest of the restaurant.  The chairs were comfortable and large and you immediately picked up your menu and hid behind it as a way to deal with the anxiety that felt like was eating away at you.

Steve put his hand on yours and you poked your head out over the top of the menu. “I’m sorry if I made it feel like there’s something bad that was going to happen tonight.  I promise it isn’t.  I just wanted to be on a date and talk.  Like most people who are starting a relationship.”

“Oh,” you said.  “I thought… I don’t know… you weren’t …”

He chuckled.  “Not at all.  I like you a lot.  I have been worried that you living with me would make you think you owed me.  If I pushed for more you’d give it out of obligation and I don’t want that.  I want us to both be on the same page about what we want.”

You let out a breath.  “I don’t feel pressured,” you said.  “I like you a lot too.”

The waiter came over and you panicked a little.  Steve ordered a bottle of wine and as he ordered a started and entree you quickly chose what you wanted.

“I’m not used to talking, I usually just act,” Steve said when the waiter left.  “But with this kind of thing, I am so slow.  I just let the feeling grow and grow and grow and then I might kiss them.  Took two years to kiss the only people I’ve really had a romantic relationship with.”

You shook your head.  “That won’t do.”  You patted the chair to your right.  “Come here.”

He chuckled and changed seats.  “I might be a little out of practice.”

“Don’t worry,” you said.  “So am I.”

He leaned in and you bridged the distance, capturing his lips.  He hummed softly as you kissed and his hand went to your jaw, cradling your face.  His lips were soft and you flicked your tongue over them as he caressed them over yours.  He pulled back and you blinked slowly.  “That took way too long to happen,” you said.

“I’m a little slow to move,” he said. “Sorry.”

You shook your head and leaned your forehead against his.  “It was worth the wait.”

He pulled back and caressed your cheek with his thumb.  “I want you to feel comfortable with me at my house.  That it’s your place too and for us to be able to go forward with… well us,”  he explained.

“I do.  I promise,” you said.  “You’ve been nothing but a gentleman, Steve.”

He smiled.  “Then I’ll get out of my head,” he said and kissed you again.  You smiled into his lips and ran your hands up his thighs.

This one was much quicker as the waiter arrived with the wine.  You waited as Steve tried it and okayed the bottle.  When they poured you a glass you took a long sip.  “I want you to know - and this is with no expectation of anything happening - but if you’d like to share my bed…”

As Steve made the offer his face turned redder and redder and you started laughing.  “Thank you, Steve.” 

“I only mean, if you want to let Geo have his own room sometimes, you always go to bed so early,” Steve babbled.  “We don’t have to …”

“No, I know,” you assured him. “Thank you.  That would be nice.”  He smiled bashfully and took a sip from his wine.  For a guy that spent so much time-fighting evil, Steve Rogers was incredibly cute.  For the first time since the death of your husband, you were excited about a relationship.

// NEXT

[palettes-and-prompts]

25 Dialogue Prompts for Each Color of the Rainbow (Part 2)

Red 1) "How could anyone not like me? I'm perfect." 2) "Quick! They're coming, how do I look? Do I have anything in my teeth? Do I smell because I need to look perfect!" 3) "Wow, have you been working out, you look great!" 4) "Oh, this old thing? I just threw this on." 5) "You really think I'm beautiful?" 6) "I wasn't meant to be some little star. I was meant to be the sun." 7) "They haven't texted me since the date and it's been a week. What if they didn't like me? No, that's ridiculous, I'm wonderful. Something must've just happened to their phone." 8) "I'm going to die alone aren't I? Just me, some cats, and boxed wine. At least Real Housewives will always be there for me." 9) "They're obviously not looking for perfection because I'm right here." 10) "I'm not shopping at a thrift store, that's where poor people shop!" 11) "You had better change for the party because you're fucking high if you think I'm going to let you stand next to me while you wear that outfit." 12) "A gift? For me? Oh you shouldn't have! Oh...a book...wow...thanks. You, uh, really shouldn't have." 13) "Please be a loser somewhere else." 14) "I'm on a diet where I have to drink kale. If you value your life leave right now." 15) "I want this entire box of Kit Kats." "....the whole box." "NOW!" 16) "It's scary out there, I'm not coming with you to check out that noise." "Okay." "No! Wait, don't actually leave me alone." 17) "I am not a scaredy cat! I just don't like when things pop out at me or creep around in the dark or come within ten feet of me unless they're hot." 18) "I would never ever fall in love with you." "Okay, well, you're still holding onto me." "I just didn't want to get lost!" 19) "Wow, you're really strong. Like...really strong." "If you're that thirsty there's a water fountain right over there." 20) "God look at them. They look so good when they're sweaty. Oh fuck they're taking their jacket off." "You're drooling." 21) "Give me back the honey bun or I will scratch your eyes out." "You need to calm down." "You need to not tell me to calm down." 22) "Everyone keeps getting flowers and it's so annoying. Like, we have work to do, you shouldn't be worried about getting flowers. I hate flowers, I-" "I think there are some flowers on your desk." "Oh my god I love flowers! They're so pretty. Aww, I wonder who got them for me." " 23) "I think you're the most dramatic person I know." "That can't be true, I'm not dramatic." "You literally cried yesterday when no one noticed you got your hair trimmed like a centimeter." "It was a big difference from how it was!" "It was a centimeter!" 24) "My ideal home is one that's small but enough to have a family in." "They're such a fucking liar, their ideal home has to have mirrors everywhere, a double curved staircases so they can walk down dramatically, a maze in the backyard, a fountain in the front with a circular driveway, but then the road in is lined with trees because their dramatic and when you get to the gate it has their last initial on it." "Oh my god, you do listen to me!" "Unfortunately yes." 25) "Are you in love with me?" "What? No, I can't stand you." "You remember everything about me! You pay attention to everything I say and I can be very..." "Dramatic?" "Passionate about certain things. You hate it." "I don't hate it." "So you love it?" "We don't have to put a label on what I feel." "Yes we do. You love me!" "Fine, okay, I love you." "Really?" "Don't get all passionate right now." "I'm already planning our wedding in my mind."

Orange 1) "You're really cool, we should hang out sometime. Maybe you could watch me skateboard." 2) "You're always stressing yourself out, why don't you let me help you unwind?" 3) "It's just you, me, and this goat you told me not to get." 4) "You think hiding your snacks is gonna stop me from eating them? I'm like a bloodhound, I will sniff them out!" 5) "What do you think would happen if I snorted Cheeto dust?" 6) "Remember when you told me not to try to reach into the vending machine when my chips got stuck because my arm would get stuck in there. Well, the good news is I got my chips. Bad news is I wont be home for a while." 7) "You know how Gaston ate four dozen eggs every morning to help him get large? Okay, so that's bullshit because when I was a kid I tried to do that and I barely ate a dozen before I threw up." 8) "Oh, I'm an idiot? Because I think I'm fucking styling in these diamond studded crocs while I ride my razor scooter!" 9) "Oh, I always get a perfect score on any test I take. Everyone always thinks I'm cheating but the doctors say I've got something called an photographic memory where I only look at things once and I just remember it. Anyway, wanna see how many ants I can eat?" 10) "One time I got stung by a bee on the tongue because I wanted to see what it felt like." "Did it feel good?" "It did not." 11) "I used to think Bronchitis meant I was growing broccoli inside my lungs." "It doesn't mean that. When did you find out that it didn't mean that?" "Oh, um, like... a few days ago." "A FEW DAYS AGO?!" 12) "So, I did something." "What did you do?" "I should preface by saying I am not smart." "What. Did. You. Do?" 13) "Just shaved a cat to look like a lion with a mane." "That's so stupid, why would you do that?" "Why don't you look at the results first?" 14) "I beat all of Super Mario World and found every single secret." "When's the last time you slept?" "Last time I what?" 15) "Why are you all twitchy?" "I just mixed every energy drink from the gas station with pixie sticks." "Jesus, we're going to the hospital." 16) "I know eating cheese makes you constipated and everything, but like, how much cheese? I don't want to be constipated so what's the maximum amount I can eat without that happening." 17) "Don't freak out, but I'm in jail." "JAIL?!" "It's all a big misunderstanding!" 18) "Can I tell you something without you getting mad?" "You always ask me this and I always get mad." "Yeah, but like, maybe this time you could just...not get mad?" 19) "You are the human equivalent of the smiley face emoji." "Aww! Thank you." "It wasn't a compliment." 20) "You look like you eat sunshine and shit rainbows." "Actually I eat Lucky Charms. Well, just the charms actually with like a little bit of the lucky bit." "You're so positive it sickens me." 21) "I love Thanksgiving." "Yikes. Why?" "Because I get to have dinner with all my friends and family. There's no pressure to buy gifts or anything. We all just come together and appreciate each other." "I could put everything you've ever said on a Hallmark card." 22) "Do you know how much I love you?" "You send me every heart emoji before bed and end it with a kissy face with the words 'I love you' every night. I think I get it." "I'll start doing it every morning just to be sure." 23) "You know how in Inside Out there's all the different little people that represent each emotion?" "Yeah, I love that movie!" "Yeah, I think your Joy emotion person killed your Sad emotion person." "What? No! She wouldn't do that!" " 24) "You have to stop crying every time this scene in the movie comes up." "He thinks she doesn't love him!" "It's just Shrek. You've seen how it ends, you can quote it for fuck's sake!" "I know but he doesn't know right now!" "Oh my god." 25) "I swallowed the key to Person A's car." "Oh my god why would you do that?" "I thought it'd be funny but now I'm worried about it." "Oh now you're worried about it?"

Yellow 1) "I heard everyone survived, is that true?" "Yes, everyone's fine." "Pity." 2) "If being classy means being mean to everyone who's considered to be beneath you then I must be the classiest bitch in the whole fucking world." 3) "I don't think you're beneath me, I know you are." 4) "A piece of advice I'll give to you for free. Stay out of my way unless you'd like to be crushed under my foot." 5) "Hmm, I wonder which shoes I should wear to stomp on the dreams of others today." 6) "Don't cry on me, this jacket is worth more than your car!" 7) "Oh no, I won. Aww! And you wanted it so bad, didn't you?" 8) "You know, in duos it's usually one's the beauty and one's the brains but in our case I guess I really lucked out, didn't I?" 9) "Don't think for a second I'm interested in you, I'm only speaking to you because I have to." 10) "They took something that was mine. And now I have to kill them." 11) "I was scheduled to ruin someone's life today, but I guess I can save that for another time. Let's hang out!" 12) "I know that person, their significant other made my friend cry so I slept with their boyfriend/girlfriend and made them fall in love with me. I can't wait to be there when they tell them they're leaving them for me." 13) "You need good friends, people who will watch out for you and help you handle your problems." 14) "Listen here, you little shit, I've worked hard to get this perfect so if you fuck it up I will destroy everything you love." 15) "Oh, how cute! You think you're a threat to me." 16) "Next time you try to threaten me remember who you're dealing with. Because I don't do threats, I make promises. And when I promised I'd ruin your life I intended to keep that promise." 17) "Oh my god, here comes that insufferable bitc-Hi! Oh my god, I haven't seen you in forever, you look so good!" 18) "Oh, gag me with a fucking spoon. If I have to listen to you idiots try to talk and breathe at the same time I'm going to jump in front of a fucking bus." 19) "Move! I'll handle it just like I handle everything, with grace and vague threats." 20) "What do you mean they're in love with me? Did they say that word for word? Because you know I'm in love with them so if this is a trick it's not funny and I'll fucking kill you. Did they say that word for word?" 21) "I only have strengths I don't have weaknesses." 22) "They called me heartless? I'm not heartless! I'm nice. I'm so fucking nice. I'm going to prove how fucking nice I am and then they're going to look like an idiot for saying that!" 23) "Stop crying. You look fucking pathetic and you're not pathetic because I don't have pathetic friends. So keep your head up, bury your feelings, and act like the goddamn champion you are." 24) "Don't speak, you could make the town idiot feel like a genius." 25) "Stop acting like a loser or you're not allowed to stand next to me anymore."

Green 1) "Well, look at that, we're all alone. So, anything you wanna say to me? Anything you wanna do to me?" 2) "Of course I have sex for money, you think I'd just give all this away for free?" 3) "What do you mean I can't wear this to the funeral? It's my mourning crop top." 4) "How's my outfit?" "Hideous. You should shred it and then burn it just to be safe." 5) "Ew, what do you want?"   6) "I'm gonna need you to not stand next to me at this party, I don't want anyone thinking we came together." 7) "Does this make me look slutty?" "Not at all, it's very modest for you actually." "Ew, okay, I'm gonna go change." 8) "Why are you putting on glitter? We're going to a toddler's birthday party." "Look, if you wanna look like that that's your choice. I plan on looking like I hunt mythical creatures for a living." 9) "The robbers took everything in my house." "Yeah, but they left your clothes so what do you think that says about them?" 10) "I thought you hated the thrift store." "I did, I thought it was a very sad little place, but then I started designing my own outfit with all the decent things they sell and so now I love the thrift store." 11) "They broke up with you? You?! No, I don't think so. Come with me, we're going to fix you and you're going to show them what they're missing." 12) "They might have more money than me but I'm the one who has clear skin and the ability to not look like trash." 13) "A choker can be something that says it all. It can say 'I'm fun and I love hanging out with my friends' but it can also say 'I only have rough sex' you know?" 14) "You're not my type." "You haven't even turned around to see me." "Didn't need to. I could smell that cheap cologne/perfume from a mile away." "What is your type?" "Rich." 15) "What are you doing?" "Eating take out and watching porn." "What kind of porn?" "Bondage porn." "Oh, that kind of day, huh? Should I come over?" "No, I'll just try to sleep wit you." "You do that even when you're not sad." "Okay, you can come over." 16) "Where are you going with my keys?" "I've got to kill someone." "Okay, make sure you don't get blood on my seats." 17) "No, highlight yellow and highlighter orange are not real colors. Okay? Are you a hunter trying not to get shot or a construction worker? No, you're not. You're trying to seduce someone. So lets get rid of this monstrosity and find something that'll make your eyes look pretty." 18) "I love you very much and it's because I love you that I can say this. Please don't wear that outfit or you will embarrass me." 19) "You just kissed me." "Yeah, I did." "Why? Did I seem like I was drowning or that I needed mouth to mouth? Were you trying to kill a bug with your lips? Why would you kiss me?" "I like you. A lot." "Hahaha...wait, seriously?" "Why's that so hard to believe?" "Because I'm me, people don't like me, they just like looking at me." "Well, I like you. A lot. And if you like me maybe we could get some dinner later or something." "Okay!" 20) "Oh my god, is that a skort? I think I might vomit. Skorts are for children, not adults. Once you hit eighteen you are legally banned from wearing skorts unless you play tennis or something. Do you play tennis? No. I didn't think so. Burn that." 21) "Camo is disgusting and if I ever catch any of you wearing it we are no longer friends." 22) "Your shorts are a little too short." "Yeah? You like it?" "You're attracting a lot of attention." "But am I attracting your attention?" 23) "Oh, wow, that's a bright shade of yellow. Um, why don't we try a few different outfits for fun before we decide on that one, okay?" 24) "Hey, I came as fast as I could, where's the body?" "Actually, I called you for a--you came here prepared to hide a body with me?" "Of course I did, you're my best friend." "Aww!" 25) "I only have sex for free when I like someone, and for you, honey? It'll cost triple what I normally charge."

Blue 1) "I heard the pet store got new puppies and kittens, wanna go see them with me?" 2) "We should go ice skating!" 3) "I love having picnics with you, you always bring my favorite foods." 4) "I love spending time with you." 5) "I think I wanna spend the rest of my life with you." 6) "Are you cold? You can wear my jacket if you want!" 7) "I don't want any of that stuff. I just want you. I've always wanted you." 8) "I wonder what it's like to hug a cloud." "Your hands would go right through it." "Yeah, but I've always wanted to touch one." 9) "Is it okay if we stay a little longer?" "We can stay until close if you'd like." "I just really like looking at the fish." "I know." 10) "Could you hug me for like an hour?" "Yeah, okay, wanna watch a movie while we do that or?" 11) "We have to leave right now. The Easter Bunny is at the store up the road and they're doing pictures." "You're an adult." "Please!!!" "Fine. We can go sit on the employee dressed in a rabbit suit's lap." "Yay! Thank you!" 12) "You can't eat that much cotton candy, you'll make yourself sick." "But it's good!" "You'll get a cavity." 13) "Can we go to the fair?" "We're not riding the toddler rides again. People gave us so many dirty looks last year." "But what about the teacups?" "We can ride the teacups, but none of the other kid ones." 14) "Can we shoot fireworks this year?" "You hate the ones with loud noises." "Yeah, but I like looking at them." "I'll buy earmuffs for you." 15) "Can we paint the side room." "Sure, what color?" "I was thinking like maybe a purple or green. Maybe all the colors." "Like a rainbow room? Why would we do the whole room?" "It'd be fun, it'd be cute for a side room or an office, maybe a baby room." "Baby room?" "Maybe. I mean, if you like that idea." "I think it's a great idea." 16) "Can we get a dog?" "You're an adult, if you want a dog you don't have to ask me." "Yeah, but it's your house too so..." "Yes, we can get a dog. We can go to the shelter tomorrow." 17) "So, I was thinking maybe we could have our wedding during the spring or maybe the summer." "You have bad allergies during those times." "Yeah, but I was thinking we could get fake flowers and I could take some allergy medication and it could still look like a spring or a summer wedding." "I'll start looking at fake flowers." "I'll check venues." 18) "Why are you up so early?" "Look outside! It's snowing!!!" "And you woke me up so we could play in it?" "Uh huh." "One hour and then you let me go back to sleep." "I'll go get my gloves!!" 19) "We have to go to the zoo." "You hate the zoo, you said you don't like seeing animals in cages." "I know but the goats just gave birth to baby goats and they're finally letting them out to be pet today!" 20) "I dream about flying all the time but I never thought I'd actually get to do it." 21) "Thanks for tonight, I had a really great time with you. I hope we can do it again soon." 22) "We should move in together. I mean, if you want." 23) "I don't want to lose you, and it took me a while to realize but I know what I want now. Will you marry me?" 24) "I wouldn't trade you for all the gold, silver, gems, or all the most expensive things in the world." 25) "You really are the love of my life."

Indigo 1) "They're obnoxious and loud and stupid and I can't believe I'm in love with them." 2) "You may be a star but you'll never be as big a star as VY Canis Majoris." 3) "The most fucked up thing I ever learned was that Luna moths don't have mouths or a digestive tract because their sole purpose is to mate. So they live for a week and then die because they starve to death." 4) "I think you have more outfits than you have IQ points." 5) "Can you just stop doing...whatever it is you're doing for like ten minutes." 6) "God you're so annoying, just stop breathing. Please? Just stop." 7) "I wish I were a plant, I wouldn't have to talk or think or do all this shit. I'd just have to soak up sunlight, soak up rain, and take in carbon dioxide. Being a plant really is the fucking dream." 8) "Hey, I heard Person A broke up with you. That sucks. So, um, do you think I could get my Chemistry book?" 9) "Are you still upset about your break up with Person A? You shouldn't be, I've seen their family members, they don't age well. But, um, that neighbor of yours, the cute one, their family looks pretty good. And with your genes you two would have some above average looking children." "Thank you?" "You're welcome." 10) "You know, you're terrible at giving advice." "Yeah, well, I'm not used to being around other humans." "Maybe just say people. Calling other people humans is kind of...weird." "Noted." 11) "Do you want to come to a party with me tonight?" "To what? Drink, embarrass myself, have to listen to terrible music, and interact with people I don't even like?" "Yes." "Pass. I'd rather be here studying plants." 12) "Would you like to go out sometime, on like a date?" "Sure, I guess. You just set up the blind date and I'll do my best. Though, maybe you could find me someone who at least can carry on a conversation with me." "No, I mean would you want to go out on a date with me?" "With you? Why would you want to date me? Don't you have plenty of other options?" "I like you." "We wouldn't work out. You and I are too different. You are good looking and nice and deserve someone who's like you. You don't want someone like me anyways. Besides I'd bore you to death before the appetizers came out." 13) "I care about you." "You? Thought you didn't care about anyone." "I don't. Usually. But I think the reason I care so much is because I like you." "You like me?" "Yeah, it's um... it's a new feeling for sure." 14) "What they said back there. You're not a robot." "No, I am. They're right. It's hard for me to be like the others. I didn't grow up having friends so I didn't know what it was like to care about anything other than school or projects." "You care about me. You said you care about me. Is that true." "Of course it's true." "Then you're not a robot." 15) "You kissed me back there. Why did you do that?" "I was testing a hypothesis." "Oh yeah? What was your hypothesis." "You would kiss me back if I kissed you." "And the results?" "Well, if worked the first time. But a good scientists always checks their work to be sure, right?" "That's correct, yes." 16) "Have you ever kissed anyone?" "I've done a lot of things." "Have you had sex?" "Yes, but it was purely for research. I wanted to know what certain things felt like and what certain things would do for others." "Only you could manage to make sex sound so boring." 17) "Hey, I was--are you watching porn?" "I'm researching for an experiment." "What kind? You gonna see what happens when you put your hand down your pants to that?" "No, I was studying to see if I could tell the difference between a real orgasm and a fake one." "If you wanted to study that you could have just asked me." 18) "Do you think I should socialize more?" "Since when do you care what I think? You're the one with a billion degrees." "Well, you're better with people than I am." 19) "You're hugging me." "Yeah. It's what friends do, they hug." "It's, um, nice. I think." 20) "Yesterday I felt the urge to hug the mailman. Isn't that weird?" "Did you hug the mailman?" "No." "Then it's not that weird. Probably just your body telling you it needs to be touched physically, you know?" "What?" "You crave physical touch." 21) "I think I'm lonely." "Yeah, I think you are too." "Should I start dating?" "Do you want to date?" "Not particularly." "Then maybe just try getting friends." 22) "If I have to spend another evening with that idiot I might lose it." "Is this because they thought photosynthesis had to do with photography?" "Don't remind me." 23) "We're having dinner with my friends tonight." "They hate me." "They don't hate you, you're just smarter than all of them combined." 24) "I can't talk to Person A, they tried to ask me about plant cells and actually thought that I was talking about a cellphone made of plants." "They're not very good at Science, but they like you a lot an they're trying to find ways to talk to you. It's cute. You should give them a chance. Take them to a Science museum." "Like, the ones for kids?" "Yeah. They'll love it." "Fine, but if it starts to go bad I'm texting you to call me and say there's an emergency so I can get out of it." "As long as you give it a try." 25) "They're in love with you, you know? Why do you ruin all your chances at love?" "Because sometimes I'm not sure I'm capable of feeling it."

Violet 1) "You smell like desperation. That a new cologne/perfume or is that just you?" 2) "I'm not here to play nice, I'm here to protect your ass because you couldn't follow simple instructions!" 3) "God, you are so annoying. I can't believe I have to put up with you for six months." 4) "Get your shit, we're getting out of here. I'm not leaving you in this hellhole, alright? Pack your stuff, you're coming with me." 5) "Are we gonna be a family?" "Let's not call it that, let's call it I'm taking care of you for a while alright?" "For how long?" "For as long as you want me to." 6) "Are you gonna be my mom/dad?" "WOAH! No. Absolutely not. I'll be your guardian, okay? And it's only temporary." 7) "Goddamn it, kid, wake up! You can't annoy the shit out of me for months and make me care about you just so you can die like this. I'm not allowing it. Come on, get up, kid. If you get up I'll take you to that Funland place you wanted to go. Anywhere you wanna go. I'll be better to you. I'll...fuck! I'll take care of you for the rest of your life. I'll teach you how to ride a bike and be there for you when you do Science fairs and shit. I'll be your mom/dad." 8) "You're stupid trying to save me like that. You can't swim." "You never taught me how to." "Yeah, well, I'm gonna teach you when we get out of here." 9) "You're evil and manipulative and you're mean and I kinda love that about you, kid. You remind me of me. If you want a place to sleep and food you don't have to dig out of the trash you can stay with me as long as you want." 10) "Can I get a motorcycle?" "Absolutely not, kid. As long as I'm alive the only two wheel thing you'll be riding on is a fucking bicycle." "Well, can I get a bicycle?" "Yeah, we can steal you one later." 11) "You might be the most annoying person I've ever met in the world but I'd die for you." 12) "If you ever come near me or my family I'll fucking kill you. I will bury you in a shallow grave and leave you as food for the worms. Do you understand me?" 13) "You're not going to die here because I'm gonna protect you." 14) "Hey, you trust me don't you?" "Yeah." "Good, you're going to have to disguise yourself. And whatever you do keep your head down, don't talk, and don't let go of me, okay?" 15) "Hey short stack." "You came for me?" "Course I did, did you really think I'd leave you behind?" 16) "I'm coming with you." "You're not." "I am and you can't stop me." "I can handcuff you to that bench over there and leave Person A the keys." "...well I would appreciate if you didn't do that." 17) "Hey there, stranger, haven't seen you in a while." "What the fuck are you doing here?" "Is that really how you greet your best friend?" 18) "Out of my way." "You'll die if you go in there." "And you'll die if I don't go in there." 19) "I'm always gonna be here for you, you know that? 20) "Woah, what's wrong, why are you crying?" "You'll be leaving after this." "Come here, I'm not leaving you after this. I'm staying here with you. Did you really think I'd leave you here all alone? You can barely make toast." 21) "Hey, you can't run off like that again, do you hear me?" "Yeah, whatever-" "No! No, you don't get to whatever me about this. You could have fucking died out there. So you look me in the eye and you promise me you're never going to do that again!" "I-I promise I'll never do it again!" 22) "Look, I'm not your parent so I'm not going to tell you what to do, but that kid you're hanging around is bad news. I've seen their arrest record, you shouldn't be hanging around them. I know they're nice right now but people like that take advantage of nice. I would know. I used to be like them." 23) "I love you. More than anything in the world and that's why I train so hard. I have to train harder because now I have to be stronger. Because now I finally have something worth fighting for." 24) "You can't come with me. You're staying here." "I want to fight!" "You're sick. You need to stay here with Person A, take some medicine, and get some rest." 25) "Hey, watch your mouth, no one talks like that in front of my kid!"

[aro-of-artemis]

It's what you do with the things you love!

3 times the boys give Julie kisses and 1 time they have a cuddle pile.

AKA an excessive number of hugs, kisses and I love yous because they're all touch starved and they deserve it.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29331480

{1} Alex

 Somewhere in the back of her mind, Julie knows she's dreaming. But that knowledge doesn't make her feel any better. She can feel the staccato thrum in her chest even as she sleeps, her lungs filling and deflating too quickly, making her feel hollowed out like a wind tunnel. Dreams, some nonsensical, others entirely too real, blur and warp in her head. She sees her mother's casket being covered in dirt, hears the pulsing, beeping heartbeat seemingly echoing from the very walls of a hospital. She sees the boys, her boys, laying in a haphazard pile, tear stained and rumpled and slowly disintegrating, turning to bone and then ash and then dust, blown away by a source-less wind. She sees-

 "Julie."

 Her frantic twisting and turning in bed is disturbed by a voice laced with concern. She can still feel her heartbeat in her ears. The rise and fall of her chest does not slow down but she is mercifully rescued from her dreams. She begins to cry. Big, loud sobs that judder and heave like a ship on a stormy sea.

 "Hey, hey, hey," the voice says, gently. She turns her face to see Alex crouched by the side of her bed, resting his hands on the edge like he wants to reach out and touch her but he's not sure if he's allowed. He turns one palm up in silent question. Julie nods desperately, sobs never ceasing.

 Alex moves slowly, sliding in next to Julie, half sitting up. He wraps his arm around her shoulders and she gratefully buries her face in his chest, body still shuddering. His other arm comes around to encircle her completely. He doesn't say much - there's not much he can say that would actually help - so he just holds her to his chest and runs his hands over her hair and down her back in long, soothing strokes.

 He slides down a bit more so that her head is fitted under his chin, her damp breaths against the collar of his hoodie. The tears have quietened a bit, beat out by sheer exhaustion. When she speaks, her voice is raw.

 "Thank you, Alex."

 "Of course, Jules. I love you."

 "Love you, too," she murmurs into his chest.

 He tucks his chin, pressing a soft kiss against the crown of her head, her curls tickling at his nose. She lets out a deep sigh, her tense muscles relaxing in small increments.

 "Will you stay with me?" Her voice is small, uncertain.

 "As long as you need."

Her breathing grows deep and slow, a slight rasp around the edges that approaches a snore. Alex lets his eyes pull shut and slips off into sleep.

 ~~~

 Sometimes Ray wakes in the middle of the night, filled with a sudden dread and the urgent need to check on his kids. Tonight, he has a distinct sense that something is wrong with Julie.

 Quietly, he swings his legs out of bed and makes his way down the hall, feet scuffing against the floor in a hushed whisper. Her door stands slightly ajar and he nudges it further open, eyes searching out his daughter.

 He is momentarily startled to see not one but two bodies in her bed but the sun rises in his chest at the sight before him, dispelling the menacing shadows of night. A pink-clad torso curls protectively around Julie, shielding her from any and all threats within and without. Alex's soft gold hair falls in every which direction and his normally anxious face is eased with sleep. Ray smiles and pulls the door shut.

  {2} Reggie

 Julie's noticed something. Reggie always wears the same clothes. It's always some combination of his black skinny jeans, a tank top, his leather jacket and his flannel. Luke and Alex seem to mix it up more, so it's not a ghost thing. Maybe he's just committed to the aesthetic, Julie thinks, but she's not so sure. It nags at the back of her mind for days.

 She brings it up to Luke. He looks at her with his big, sad puppy dog eyes. "Yeah, I guess he does. His parents weren't - they didn't really…" Care. He trails off but Julie fills in the blanks. She feels something in her chest harden in anger and yet also soften with tender affection. The result of some strange oxymoron of love.

 Luke doesn't offer any more information and Julie doesn't press but plans are already forming in her head.

 She has a hushed conversation with her father which ends with a credit card pressed into her hand and the encouragement to "go nuts - within reason". She tells the boys the next day that she's hanging with Flynn and that they should under no circumstances interrupt her. It's not a lie - Flynn's eye for clothes and talent for thrifting is an invaluable part of this mission.

 They spend the next day rifling through thrift stores and shopping centres, collecting flannels and t-shirts and jeans that match Reggie's style. (And perhaps they purchase socks and undies for all of the boys because honestly. And maybe Flynn stumbles upon a band shirt that would be just perfect for Luke and Julie finds a fanny pack that was made for Alex).

 Tote bags full-to-bursting perched on her shoulders, Julie makes her way down the garden path and pushes her way into the studio. She finds the boys lounging on the couch, Luke and Reggie idly plucking at their guitar strings and Alex hanging upside down off it.

 "Julie!" they chorus as she enters.

 A small laugh enters her voice. "What are you guys doing?" It turns into a full-belly laugh as Alex tries to extricate himself from his precarious position and ends up landing on his head.

 Reggie notices the bags on her shoulders. "Whatcha got, Jules?" His enthusiasm is infections.

 "Well…," she says, drawing it out. She sets the bags down on the piano and starts unloading them, making a small pile off to the side for Alex and Luke. Once she's finished, she steps back with a satisfied nod and a flourish. "It's for you, Reg."

 His smile drops. "For me?"

 She nods, biting her lip nervously. Now that she's here, she isn't sure how he'll react. Would he be mad that she'd overstepped? Embarrassed? She watches his face carefully for a reaction. Her heart drops to her shoes when tears start spilling down his cheeks.

 "Oh! Reggie, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have assumed, I should have asked before I -" She's abruptly cut off when warm arms pull her into his chest and she lets out a soft oof. But she revels in the embrace, letting Reggie hold her as long as he needs.

 When he pulls back a bit, his eyes are red and puffy but he's smiling once more. "Don't apologise, Julie. I - It's just that no one's ever - no one's done this before. Thank you."

 Julie can feel a stinging sensation at the back of her eyes and a boulder forming in her throat but she manages to croak out, "Of course, Reggie. I love you." She tugs on his necklace affectionately.

 Fresh tears spill down his face. He leans forward, ducking his head down to press a gentle kiss into the softness of her cheek and pulls her back into an embrace.

 "Love you, too, Jules."

 ~~~

 "You bought us underwear?"

 "Yes."

 "I dunno how to feel about that, Jules."

A sigh. "Just say thank you and move on."

"Thank you, " is said in a three-part chorus.

 {3} Luke

 Julie lays on her bed, stomach pressed against the soft duvet and heels kicking in the air behind her. But her eyebrows are furrowing in tense concentration and her fingers are tight around her pen. Spread haphazardly before her are various textbooks and notebooks, her laptop open off to one side. An irritated sigh drives its way out of her throat when disorderly curls fall into her face again.

 As if summoned, Luke poofs into her room. She doesn't look up.

 "Hey! Jules. You nearly finished with your school work?"

"No." She says it flat and terse, eyes fixed on the page before her.

 "Oh." His face momentarily creases but he shrugs and makes himself comfortable at the end of her bed, leaning his side up against it. His chin rests just on the edge. "I'll just wait here until you're done then."

 Julie doesn't respond.

 Time passes. An hour perhaps, but Luke's never had the best sense of time. His brain always seems to warp and shift it. He stays admirably quiet, considering, if he does say so himself. He paces around the room, fiddling with knick knacks and keepsakes, admiring (from a distance) pictures of Julie and her mom. He gives the dream box a wide berth (even if his eyes keep being drawn to it. Especially so).

 Eventually, he sits himself back down in his original position, eyes glancing around the room. Absentmindedly, his hand reaches out to tug at a curl that had fallen forward over Julie's face.

 "Would you STOP that?" she snaps.

 His hand jerks back as if scalded. "Julie - what - I - I'm sorry, I didn't mean to - ". His eyes are wide, eyebrows practically disappearing into his hairline.

 Julie's breath leaves her chest all in a rush, as if trying to beat the traffic at the end of a concert. Her face drops into her hands. Luke looks at her in consternation, unsure where he went wrong until he sees her back begin to shake with awful, desperate sounds.

 "Julie - I - are you okay?"

 She doesn't answer but continues to tremble.

 "Julie. Jules. Talk to me. Or - or do you want me to leave. I can go if you want. I didn't -" He begins to rise, backing up.

 He's stopped in his tracks, half crouched, by a garbled sound that he thinks was no.

 "Okay," he says. He sits back down. Thinking. His eyes never leave Julie. "If, if you don't wanna talk about it, would you like a hug instead? I'm told I give pretty good hugs."

The hiccupy almost-sobs are interrupted by a wet chuckle. Her head nods minutely. Luke's not sure he would have noticed except for how close he's watching her.

 His muscles bring him to standing and he opens his arms wide. "C'mere," he says. Just quietly. She swings herself over the side of her bed and just about flings herself at his chest. He wraps his arms around her, as tight as they go, matching her grip, and just holds her for a while, rocking back and forth slowly.

 ~~~

 Luke's hugging her so tight. She feels so safe and so warm. His small shushing sounds cease when he presses his warm, dry lips against her forehead. He keeps them there and strokes her hair gently, careful not to snag any curls. Julie feels her shoulders drop, finally, some of the tension unspooling from her spine. She breathes in, 2, 3, 4 and out, 2, 3, 4 and in and out for a while longer.

 Once her heart has calmed from a jackhammer to the mere ticking of a clock, she pulls back to look at him. His eyes are like an ocean at storm, a wild mess of greygreenblue.

 "Luke, I'm sorry, I - "

 "You don't need to apologise." One of his hands comes up to cup her jaw, dragging a thumb under the corner of her eye where tears still linger. She feels her heart grow a couple of sizes.

 "I want to," she insists, looking down bashfully.  "I'm sorry for snapping at you. I've just been really overwhelmed by my school work and it was feeling like too much. But I, um, I think I just needed a really good cry 'cause I haven't in a while and I - " Her words stumble when she looks back up because there's a bittersweet crinkle around the corners of his eyes and his eyebrows are so earnest that she has to just reach up and touch one, grazing her thumb along it.

 He laughs a little. Just softly.

 "And thank you. For the hug," she says. "You really are excellent at hugs. 10 out of 10. Would hug again"

 His eyes crinkle again but this time with mirth. "Of course, Julie. Anytime. Day or night."

 Her thumb is still on the tail of his eyebrow and the rest of her hand is cupping his cheek. He may be a ghost but she can feel the warmth of his skin against her palm, the rushing of blood beneath the surface, the faint freckles that wander across his nose.

 And his eyes. She could write entire songs about his eyes - whole albums - and still not know what colour they were or how to capture how they shift with his mood like a flag in the wind.

 Her gaze drops to his lips without her permission. As they lift into a tentative smile, her thumb drags over the crease of skin where his smile lines form and tugs at the edge where his mouth curls up, making him smile wider.

 Julie looks back up to his eyes after eons to find him staring back just as intently. His lips part slightly, as if in awe, unsure what to say. Finally, they resolve into the soft sounds of her name.

 "Julie. Can I - ?"

 "Please." Her voice is barely a whisper.

 Slowly, as if encased in glass, he lowers his face to meet hers. Their lips brush, mere millimetres away from each other. The air crackles. And then breaks.

 Julie pushes her lips up to meet his. They're warm (still). And soft. Her whole face, her whole body, is alight, lines of warmth spreading from every place skin meets skin. She presses into him harder and he presses back. The hand still on his face hooks around his ear, bringing him closer. One of his arms curls around the small of her back, pulling her in and his thumb rubs small circles on the sharp of her cheekbone, his calluses catching against her skin. She never wants this to end but she has to breathe, even if he - technically - doesn't.

 She pulls back but doesn't go far, resting her forehead against his. She can practically feel the curlicue of his mouth against hers, his breath tickling her face.

 "You're amazing, Julie." His expression is thunderstruck, disbelieving, electrified.

 "So are you." She is filled with awe at the idea that she gets to have this. Him. Luke Patterson, the boy she. She - she loves.

 Oh.

 Oh.

 "I love you," she says in wonderment. "So much."

 He laughs, incredulous. She feels unstoppable. "So do I. I - I - I love you so much I don't know what to do with it all."

 Julie laughs back. Delirious. Just this side of hysterical. "Me neither. I wrote an entire song in my head because I had nowhere else to put it."

 Luke snorts. "Me too."

 "Yeah?"

 "Yeah."

 Their smiles could blind astronauts all the way in space.

 {+1}

 Julie turns over in her bed again. She tries to resettle her sheets but her feet get tangled up in the knotted blanket. She lets out a deep sigh and can feel irritation clawing its way up her arms and legs, tugging at her nerve endings, making her want to scream. She turns her head to read the time off her phone and another heartfelt sigh is pulled from her chest as she watches the numbers tick over to 1:13 am.

 She lays there a moment longer, staring up at the ceiling like she's a character in The Office looking at the camera. Hoping - praying - that some semblance of sleepiness would overtake her. But no, that would be far too easy. It's just that something's wrong. She can't put her finger on it but she feels as though the air around her is ill-at-ease with the objects in its path and something in her chest twinges uncomfortably.

 She rolls over and tumbles out of bed, half stumbling to her feet, and makes her way downstairs, outside along the garden path and into the studio. The sight that greets her when she enters is … unnerving.

 Reggie lays in the middle of the floor, arms and legs spread wide, just staring fixedly at nothing. Over on the couch, Luke sits, picking a melancholy tune out on his acoustic. On the floor next to Luke's legs, Alex sits with his knees pulled up to his chest, his chin pressed harshly into them and arms wrapped around his calves. He too looks off into the middle distance.

 "Uh. Hey, guys."

 At the sound of her voice, Luke's fingers falter and the other two's eyes seem to snap back into this reality but none of them move.

 "What's…going on?" she says uncertainly. She feels the weight of three sets of eyes on her, burdened by some incurable sadness. Luke has stopped playing but he still holds his guitar in his lap, clutching it to his chest.

 "Nothing," he says like a lying liar who lies. "We're fine. What're you doing up?"

 Julie narrows her eyes at him, looks to Alex, then Reggie. "Don't change the subject." Her eyes soften though. A few steps across the garage and she settles herself down by Reggie who has yet to move except to bring his hands together over his stomach and begin tugging at his fingers. Gently, she lifts his head up and settles it in her lap. He lets her without argument and she begins to comb her fingers through his soft hair.

 "Clearly something's going on. So spill." Her words are direct but her tone is mild.

 Alex's chin lifts from his knees. "We - I, I was just thinking about my, um, my parents?"

 Julie nods encouragingly at him even as she continues to play with Reggie's hair.

 He continues. "I don't know what happened to my parent since I died. I - I don't know if I wanna know what happened to them. They weren't - they didn't, after I came out -"

 Julie just nods reassuringly. She feels so lucky that her dad was understanding when she told him about her sexuality, even if he didn't understand all of the terminology entirely.

 "But my sister. I think I want to know what happened to her. How she's doing."

 "You have a sister?" Julie's not sure why she's so shocked to find this out.

 "Yeah, a younger sister." He smiles a little, crookedly.

 Julie furrows her eyebrows a bit, considering. "We could find her? If you wanted. I'm sure Dad would be happy to help track her down."

"You'd do that?" His blue eyes shine with something like hope.

 "Of course, Alex." She watches him as he scrubs a hand across his mouth and sniffles. She elects not to say anything but just opens one of her arms. He crawls over and slumps into her warm embrace, breathing shakily.

 Reggie speaks now. "I don't think I want to find my parents. It would be - " He shakes his head and a tear rolls down the side of his face and drops noiselessly onto the floor.

 "That's okay, Reggie."

 "Thanks, Julie. I just sometimes wonder - it doesn't matter though." His watery eyes brighten a touch. "You guys are my family, now."

 Julie feels a warm tear leak out the corner of her eye and make its way down her face, hanging off her chin.

 She turns her face to Luke who hasn't spoken since the beginning. He chuckles softly, shaking his head. His face is dry but his eyes are brighter than normal. "You know my story, Julie. And I'm so …," he tips his head back as if searching for the right words, "… grateful to you for giving my parents closure but I still miss them, y'know?"

 Julie does know. "Luke Patterson, you'd better get your butt over here."

 He smirks a little at that, placing his guitar off to the side finally. As he does so, Julie wiggles herself down so that she's lying across the rug, carefully positioning Reggie's head on her stomach. Alex presses his face into her shoulder on the opposite side to Reggie, throwing his arm over her upper torso. She curls her arm protectively around his shoulders, her thumb stroking against the place where it rests. Luke plops himself down beside her and wedges a cushion under her head. She smiles at him gratefully. He positions himself at her other shoulder, cushioning his head on her outstretched arm so that he lies parallel to Reggie. He loops his arm over Reggie, pulling him to his chest.

 As if they'd planned it, they all released a breath simultaneously. A damp giggle erupts from their pile on the floor.

 After a few minutes of just existing together, Julie clears her throat.

 "I love you guys," she says quietly. "You're my family and I'll do anything I can for you. You've already done so much for me. So if you want to see your families, or if you don't, I'll be here to help you. Just say the word."

 "Thank you, Julie," Alex answers for all of them.

 Time passes and she can feel Luke's breath begin to deepen against her neck and the rise and fall of Reggie's stomach slow. Alex burrows further into her shoulder. Her own eyes feel as though they're being pulled down like the shutters of a shop at the end of the day. She lets herself fall into a deep, restful sleep.

 When morning comes, she lays a kiss on each of their cheeks before she makes her way inside. Because, after all, that's what you do with the things you love.

[keelywolfe]

Drabble: Weighing Options (baon)

Summary: For best results, use daily.

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

The first thing Edge noticed when he got out of his car was that there was a package sitting on their front porch.

That in itself was somewhat unusual. Stretch did order things often, generally for his lab work; thankfully, his preference in kitschy knickknacks stayed in the range of the thrift shop discoveries. Edge suspected it wasn’t the horrible clown ceramics that Stretch loved so much as he craved the thrill of the hunt, such as it was.

Mighty hunter or not, they still were not allowed in the house.

The other option was that it was a package from one of his twitter followers. They came rarely, as did letters, and the size of the box might be cause for concern. The yukata that Stretch once received was a lovely gift and he still wore it on occasion. The pickle-sized jar that contained a rubber alien doll floating in disgusting green liquid was much less appreciated.

There was also the fact that it was still on the porch and not torn open by an eager Stretch that was somewhat worrisome and Edge bypassed the package for the door, calling out the moment he was inside, “Love?” Then, louder, “Stretch?”

The silence was broken by their bedroom door opening and Stretch shuffling out, yawning sleepily. His tank top was dragged up by a haphazard scratch at his rib cage, his pajama pants hanging precariously low on his pelvis, both a visual treat in terms of silky-smooth bone even if it was somewhat worrisome that he might trip over the hems as he shambled his way downstairs. Straight to Edge where he didn’t hug so much as simply lean full body against him, his skull dropping to rest heavily on Edge’s shoulder.

“hey, baby love.” That husky, whiskey-sweet voice never failed to send a shiver trilling up Edge’s spine, particularly whispered so closely that he could feel warm, damp breath against his collarbone. Tempting as it was to simply herd him back to the sofa to see what other sounds he could coax loose, Edge resisted, for now, and only nuzzled a gentle kiss against the smooth curve of his husband’s skull.

“I’m sorry I woke you,” he murmured, “but I was a little concerned, there is a package on the porch and—”

Stretch’s head immediately snapped up, any vestiges of warm sleepiness evaporating. Edge could only mourn the loss as he pulled away and exclaimed, “it’s here!”

He watched, bemused, as Stretch dashed to the porch and started hauling the package inside. He picked at the tape, grumbling beneath his breath until Edge silently offered him his pocketknife. He nearly regretted it, wincing as Stretch laid siege on the packing tape. “Easy, there, it’s sharp, you’re trying to open it, not sever a finger.”

“i got it,” Stretch grunted, managing to cut away the tape without major injury. Beneath a ridiculous amount of filler paper was a large, oddly cushiony gray lump and Edge watched as his husband hauled it out of the box with glee.

“Yes, you do, but what did you get?” Edge asked, doubtfully. It looked like a very plain, lumpy blanket, not at all to his husband’s normally somewhat… exuberant …tastes.

“i got a weighted blanket,” Stretch said gleefully, “it's supposed to help with anxiety and stuff. lots of humans like ‘em, figured it can’t hurt to try it, right?”

The plastic wrapping was barely torn away as Stretch shook out the blanket and dragged it to the sofa, flopping down with a loud flump. He lay motionless beneath the blanket for a long moment, then shifted to his side, then again, then rolled once more to lay on his back.

Edge wasn’t a doctor, but that didn’t seem especially soothing. He sat on the sofa arm, looking down at the lumpy blanket with its new addition of extra skeletal lumps. “How does it feel?”

“dunno.” The words were muffled beneath the heavy padding. “you know me babe, when it's time to sleep, i don’t move, and when i need to get up, i need to get up. this thing…i don’t feel very pinned down. maybe it's not heavy enough.”

More likely, if it was going to work it needed longer than an impatient five-minute test run. Rather than pointing out the obvious, Edge slipped off his shoes and climbed on top of the entire cushiony mess, ignoring Stretch’s grunts and the occasional poke of an elbow or knee as he settled in.

“How's that?” Edge asked, innocently. He reached up and pulled the blanket down enough to meet a pair of pale eye lights in narrowed sockets, “does the extra weight help?”

“yeah, you shit, it’s swell,” Stretch wheezed. "hate to make a blanket statement, but i'm not sure it was worth the weight." Bony arms and legs wriggled loose of the blanket to wrap around Edge, caging him in and shifting them both around until his husband sighed out contentedly, “much better. could've saved my money and gone for this in the first place.”

“I’m happy to weigh you down anytime you need it,” Edge told him solemnly.

“not likely, babe,” Stretch scoffed, “all you ever manage to do is lift me up.”

That deserved a kiss at the very least, Stretch groaning out another laughing wheeze as Edge shifted his weight to take it. Physically, he might be heavy, but the way his husband kissed him back left his soul feather light.

-finis-

[scorpiosanssexy]

i can cook basic foods but i wouldnt say its the best LOL. i stay up until the late morning and wake up mid afternoon, and im less so messy but rather just unorganized. as for hobbies, i dont have many but i make jewelry, play the sims, and its kinda embarrassing but i like to blast music in my headphones and dance in front the mirror. i really like edgy themes, like dark candles, halloween decor year-round, pentagrams, etc. 2/3

maybe irrelevant, but i wear a lot of black and revealing clothing + platforms or vans, for more insight on how i look. mm lastly i cant choose just one but my all-time anime crushes are oikawa, tachibana makoto, and nagito komaeda !

------

Dear User, 

congratulations, we have found you a potential roommate. We have throughly looked through your application and we hope you are happy with your result. Below this post are all the details about them. 

Yours Sincerely 

The Accomodation Team 

Name: Akaashi Keiji

Birthday: 5th December (Sagitarius)

MBTI: INTJ

anyway like to say congrats you get to live with his man, like an actual king

hello i am back and ready to start all over again

let’s start by saying akaashi doesn’t mind that you can only cook “basic foods” he appreciates that your a consciously making an effort to improve this life skill 

akaashi is a very good cook so on most days you (and bokuto) are guranteed a good old meal

oh yeah quick diclaimer bokuto has also become your roommate too, like i know he doesn’t live here but he does so don’t be too alarmed when he is lurking about the place 

now akaashi is the type of person to always wants what is best for you even is you don’t see it yourself 

so that means cooking lessons!!!!! 

each week akaashi will teach you to cook a certain dish with you being a sous chef and then the following week you have to cook it by yourself

food fights have occured, bokuto probably started it but contary to popular opinion akaashi can and will let his hair down once in a while 

he has once put his sticky fingers (y’know covered in meat fat) down your back and until this day you have never forgotton 

he claims it was a dare but imma let you in on a little secret it wasn’t .....

anyway once again i am getting distracted 

now akaashi thinks it is really cool that you can make jewellary, like it is such a cool niche thing you can do 

you made him and bokuto friendship bracelets and everytime you three go out together you always wear them 

bokuto accidentally lost it once 

akaashi treasures it and keeps it in a safe spot aww

now akaashi has never played the sims until you came along 

he is now obsessed 

he has created a huge family and an intrigate backstory to go along with it, like there is full on character development, he treats the sim kids as they his own 

they will be no destructive playing in this house 

bokuto once accidentally killed one of akaashi sims with the cow plant and akaashi didn’t speak to him for a week 

your characters and his characters come together sometimes for what he likes to call a crossover episode 

the most ambitious crossover to ever exist

now akaashi find this habit of you blasting music and dancing around in the mirror to be very cute

like bokuto has done way more embarassing stuff than that 

he does secretly record you because he thinks you are a great dancer and whenever he is having a bad day he plays this videos (aww) 

now someone call the CEO of dark academia because he is right here 

with your edgy vibe and his aesthetic your place is lookin hella swanky 

like you too will go to grunge thrift shops together because you are those people 

like the people who you see in the street who has like intimidatingly good style that makes you begin to question your own fashion sense 

yeah you guys are those people 

now by the sounds of things i can assume you are interested in occult

if you are, akaashi is generally fascinated by what you have to say on the subject 

i can see him reading books such as Jane Eyre and Frankistein so he has some interest in the supernatural

you too sometimes do some senances together 

one time bokuto came along and no word of a lie but he pissed his pants 

don’t tell kuroo

anyway what i am trying to say is that he 100% supports your halloweeny themed decor and lives for the vibes tbh 

like he loves your black revealing clothing because it makes you look like a bad bitch 

now by looking at your all time anime crushes i gathered you are into caring pretty boys who have motherly tendancies 

congratulations you have hit the jackpot with this one 

akaashi is effortly beatiful like he wakes up like this 

that kinda beauty 

also he has those motherly tendandies too , like making sure you get enough sleep 

i see that you said you wake up mid afternoon and a rule on this blog is we stan proper sleep schedules

so he sometimes comes an tucks you into bed and it is the cutest thing i have ever witnessed in my life 

overall you have a compassionate, calm but slightly blunt roommate

Other Potential Matches: Iwaizumi Hajime and Kunimi Akira

hiya thank you so much for waiting, i hope you enjoy your matchup but please remember to sleep my child, i want you in good health 

Carla 

[akitokihojo]

Notice

Hellooooooo! It’s my birthday today, so I quickly wrote up something niiiiice! I hope you find it nice, as well!

Thank you so much for reading!

----------

Kagome propped her chin on her hand as she leaned along the arm of the couch, forcing herself to at least look like she was focused on the movie her friends had put on. It was the comedown from the climax, the slow motion run with the background explosion, the I'm-so-glad-you're-okay romance scene, the breathless and dramatic kiss, the stomach churning, bitter taste-inducing, silent wallowing-ensuring part of the movie just before the credits rolled. For some reason, it was hard for her to concentrate on anything other than the man sitting on the opposite couch, sipping a beer while he placidly watched the movie their group had seen a minimum of four times together now. 

It was safe to say she'd become a pathetic lump of emotions lately. There was no telling why; she'd had feelings for her best friend since grade school, so it wasn't anything she wasn't accustomed to. Nothing had changed. She keeps her fun, little secret, and he continues on doing whatever he wants. Clearly, he's never fancied anything more with her, and that's fine. It's fine. Perfectly fine. She came to terms with it when she entered high school and he still hadn't made a move. Now that they were nearing their mid-twenties, it should have been well-engraved that it just wasn't going to happen. Really, her feelings should have faded away by now, but apparently a large part of her personality that should be defined whenever someone had the audacity to ask her to tell them about herself was, hopeless.

What was it going to take to get a grip these days? They were friends. Best friends. They were glued at the hip most times, confidants, they'd seen each other at their worst, at their best, in their don't-talk-to-me-I'm-half-asleep states, they've talked each other up for dates - yes, even her. She was in love, she wasn't selfish. - and helped each other cope when things turned upside down. Inuyasha and Kagome knew each other raw. Even if he did like her in the same way, it'd never work out, would it? They'd break up and their friendship would effectively be ruined, and that was something she just couldn't chance.

Or, it was a chance she didn't have to worry about taking considering the painstakingly obvious fact that Inuyasha would never see her as anything more than the dweeb that habitually needed saving from bullies when she was nine, and one time intentionally spilt apple juice on his pants when he called her ugly. He deserved it, though, and that was a reputation she was willing to live with.

Kagome had tried not to entertain her thoughts. It was probably just her impending period - the flared PMS, if you will - that had her heart mixed up at the moment. Honestly, she's cried over a puppy flea medication commercial before, it shouldn't be surprising that she'd be a little hung up over the guy she's had a soft spot for for just about fifteen years. Nevertheless, the agitated bounce in her knee wasn't making her attempted inconspicuousness any easier to pull off. 

As the credits rolled and the ending theme blared, her friends rose to call it a night, chattering away about how the movie never got old while they slid their shoes on and headed out. And then, just like that, Kagome could breathe again; a littler easier, at least. She made her way back into the living room, turning the tv off and setting some music to play on her bluetooth speaker as she cleaned up the snacks and bottles around her apartment, softly singing along to the words once the chorus came in full swing.

Without warning, Inuyasha had entered through, unfazed by her startled gasp she nearly choked on as he crossed his arms and pursed his lips in the center of the room.

"How many times have I told you to keep your front door locked?"

"Jesus, did you just come back here to check or something?" She asked rigidly, clutching her chest.

"I came because I forgot my hat, but it was a good opportunity to see if you'd grown a brain yet." He argued, grabbing the black cap from the counter and waving it in front of her before rolling it up and sticking it in his back pocket.

"I planned on taking the trash out, it didn't need to be locked immediately."

"See, the crazy thing about locks is you can flip them open and closed at your leisure." He said sarcastically, snagging the plastic bag from her hand and throwing the two empty beer bottles nearby inside.

"Ha-ha, so clever. You're such a watchdog."

"Yeah, well someone's gotta make sure you're safe."

"I've got a bat, I can take care of myself!"

"I bought you the bat."

"That's irrelevant."

"What if someone walked right in?"

“Like you always do?"

"Exactly."

"Then I'd hit them with my bat!"

“And where is the bat?" Inuyasha cocked his head to the side, short, tousled, silver strands of hair leaning away from his temple with gravity.

"In my..." Kagome stiffened, her argument lost already. "Room."

"Mhm."

She scrunched her nose in mockery, rolling her eyes as he gave her the exact infamous, cocky expression she'd been expecting.

"Oh god, you like this sappy song?" Inuyasha drawled, changing the subject as the instruments faded in over the speaker, building up the beginning of the song just before the lyrics came in.

"Shut up! You always criticize my music taste!" Kagome snatched the trash bag away from him, dropping it to the floor to tie the drawstrings together. "I heard it on the radio and liked it."

"Since when are you a country girl?"

"I could ask you the same thing. How do you even know the song?"

"Just because I've heard it, doesn't mean anything. Give me the trash, I'll take it out."

"I didn't know these romantic songs made you such a sucker, Inuyasha. Or is it the twang in his voice that gets your rocks off?" Kagome teased, sticking the tip of her tongue between her teeth, holding the bag out of reach from him.

"Oh, it's the twang. No doubt about it. I just get so weak in the knees when he nails that vibrato in the bridge." The half demon stepped in right on queue, biting his lip as he rolled his body to the slow rhythm. She rolled her eyes at his taunting advance, laughing along as he pretended like he knew the words, all the while reaching for the bag in her hand. Moving aside, she lightly swung it, the empty glass bottles knocking loudly as they smacked his lower leg.

He used the opportunity to take the trash, dropping it behind him, grabbing Kagome's wrist as she giggled and turned away again while pulling and spinning her back to him a little too enthusiastically. She collided with his chest and he caught her waist, his hand instinctively gliding to just above the small of her back. He hadn’t planned that. It was hard to say what, exactly, he’d planned when planting his hat on the counter to nonchalantly come back to retrieve when the others had left. All he knew was he was tired of hinting, tired of pining. Maybe he was no good at it, or maybe Kagome was absurdly clueless. Maybe it was unrequited and the worst idea he’d ever come up with, or maybe it was the exact amount of brash necessary to finally get the ball rolling. There was a lot on the line, and she meant everything to him. It was risky. But he was tired of how divided he’d been feeling from her. Everything in him had been screaming to grab ahold before it was too late, take her, fucking say something. It was supposed to be wrong, he understood that, but then why didn’t it feel like it was?

Kagome was gazing up at him, her big brown eyes slightly guarded, a shadowed hint of pink coloring her cheeks. She was gorgeous. And he froze.

As if to break the ice, Kagome responded with a formal smile. One he'd received time and time again over the years, more particularly as of late. It was rehearsed. He could tell. He was used to it, but knew there was something more behind it; something he achingly wanted to know right now more than ever.

"Can I have the bag back?" She asked, clearing her throat and stepping back, the blush still decorating her face but slowly fading.

"I'll take it on my way out." Inuyasha dismissed, his tone unintentionally hushed. She nodded gratefully, wandering over to the kitchen to turn the harsh, florescent light out, then sauntering over to the small speaker to lower the volume. 

Ember eyes followed her movements, the pastel pink dress she wore swaying with her gait. The further she became, the louder the chant grew in his head. Fuck it. Fuck it. Fuck it. Fuck it! Fuck it! He said her name, the sound husky and heady as a result from the unhinging fluttering in his stomach. There was a drumming sensation within his chest, one that egged him on, aided his reckless thoughts. He needed to get a grip, but he needed to get a grip on her more.

Kagome looked up from straightening the throw pillows on her thrift shop couch, her acknowledging glance shifting into a skeptical grin as he continued to stare, silently building up his courage. There was a magnetic force guiding his feet as he finally moved, steadily crossing the carpet, like fate saying “Just get it over with already, you fucking wimp.” As he carefully approached, that rosy color flooded Kagome’s cheeks again, and god, he couldn’t even begin to explain how much he liked it. It was one of the conclusive factors that had him damning it all for a small moment of blinded self-indulgence.

Inuyasha gave her time to make her call, to define her boundaries, but she didn’t move as he placed his hands on the curves of her waist, smoothing the few creases in the summer dress before developing a firmer grasp. Kagome was tense, searching with her gaze, but inviting all the while. Her body language was reactive. She subtly broadened her shoulders, opening herself, lips slightly pursed in curiosity. One more step in brought them perfectly close, to the point where she was leaning back slightly to look up at him, her raven hair hanging freely behind her back.

“What are you doing?” She asked, that same, practiced grin beginning to form on her lips. Something told him to stop it before it settled, before it hid her away from him again, and he followed his instincts, bending forward.

"Stop me." He breathed, hovering for a thrill-inducing moment.

But she couldn't. She didn't.

In fact, she inched in before he did, her soft lips barely brushing against his before he fully claimed her, inhaling through his nose as he inadvertently had to brace himself. It was gentle. He wasn’t allowed to get too swept up, no matter how quintessential it all felt. Her mouth followed his lead, fitting perfectly, moving with him, tender and smooth.

God, it felt so good. So liberating.

Her hands traveled up over his chest, his shoulders, landing on the curve of his neck. She didn't pull and grasp. She was so soft, it almost tickled.

"Wait, wait, wait-" Kagome gasped, pushing herself to a mindful distance, her thumb rubbing at her tingling bottom lip. “What-”

Inuyasha's mouth hung partially open, horribly embarrassed by his own actions, swiping his hands through his short, messy locks as he tried to find his bearings. "Fuck!" He hissed. "I'm sorry!”

“You kissed me.”

“I-I did.” He awkwardly admitted, half laughing while staring at the far corner of the ceiling to avoid eye contact.

She was hesitant. How could she not be? Her best friend had just gone from zero to a hundred so fast. She’d wanted the kiss, there was no denying that with herself. She’d wanted that kiss since the moment she hit puberty. The question on her tongue was, why had she received it? Was he experimenting? Did country music inflict a spell of some sort on him that caused him to act irrationally? Was it a cruel joke?

Asking why, though, would be the most uncoordinated way of clearing the air. Shouldn’t she just be happy he made a move, despite his intentions? Even if he was experimenting, or just wanted to see what it was like, shouldn’t she appreciate the reward she, in turn, had received?

Good lord…

Had Kagome become that desperate?

“Look, we can just pretend it never happened and move on with our lives, alright?” Inuyasha frantically offered, a cringe on his lips, his cheeks horribly red and vibrant as his fingers continuously threaded through his silver hair, ruffling it up nervously. The rejection stung worse than alcohol in a fresh cut, but it was one he’d mentally prepared himself for over and over. It was a fifty-fifty chance he'd knowingly taken. “Like that one time we accidentally saw each other naked in the tenth grade and agreed to never bring it up in conversation. That worked out nicely. Yeah, we can - we can just let it go.”

“Yeah. If that’s what you want.” A pause. “Is that what you want?” Kagome asked stiffly, unable to hinder the way her shoulders drooped.

His ember eyes finally met hers. His brows had pinched together at the question, and he licked his lips apprehensively. “If it’s what you want.” There was a pause as he watched her brown eyes flicker to the floor. It wasn’t sad. In fact, he could hardly determine the emotion behind it all. Since when couldn’t he read Kagome? Inuyasha took a step in, bending slightly at the waist  to gather her attention.

“What if it isn’t?” She boldly asked, nailing him with a piercing gaze. She was an idiot to have pushed away. She had a bad habit of second guessing everything, of being too cautious. She’s wanted this for too long. At what point would she grow exhausted from keeping her enormous facade in place? He’d made a move, one that didn’t seem to be coincidental. Her face felt increasingly hot as she pondered what was taking place between them when suddenly the answer was right in front of her. Stop thinking. “Would it be crazy? Would it ruin-“

“How have you not noticed?” Inuyasha murmured disbelievingly.

Kagome released a shallow breath of air that could pass as a chuckle, filling the gap she so foolishly created and kissing him with the fervor she’d been biting back for years. His arms were swiftly around her, crushing her to him as if he needed her just as badly.

She tasted sweet, like the candy she’d been snacking on earlier. She fit impeccably in his arms. She stumbled backward with his intensity as neither of them could control how wildly passionate they grew. His thoughts were muddled with nothing more than her, her, her, her, bringing him to sigh out shakily as he carefully pinned her against the nearby wall.

Kagome’s fingers threaded through his hair, grasping with a firm pull, fueling that fire in his stomach that had erupted when she kissed him. As her grip relaxed, her nails gently massaging his scalp, he allowed a brief moment to stall. Breathing her in. Parting an inch. Chests heaving. His lips grazing hers, dragging, but not settling, repeating over again as he loved the way she tried to kiss him when he teased her with the touch, backing away to prevent her success. When he finally kissed her, there was a pleading sound at the back of her throat. A clenched whimper. His ear flicked at the beautiful noise.

Inuyasha’s hands glided up the sides of her arms, stopping on one side to fiddle with the fallen strap of her dress, the thin material hanging loosely. 

“Do you want me to stop?” He mindfully asked. He felt her head shake in answer, the tips of their noses brushing before she kissed him again. That wasn’t good enough. He needed to hear it. He needed to know she was one-hundred percent comfortable with everything. “Kagome-“ He grunted, giving one small peck before pulling away enough to see her face. Her lips were glistening and swollen, her cheeks were flushed, and she blinked her eyes open to meet his gaze. “Do you want me to stop, baby?”

“No.” She replied earnestly. She dragged her hands down from his hair, the fingertips of one tracing the chiseled line of his jaw.

“You sure?”

“Promise.”

“Can I - can we go to your room?”

Kagome nodded, smiling as she pressed up and kissed him. He used the moment to swoop down and clutch the backs of her thighs, bringing her to wrap her legs around his waist as he hiked her up and stepped away from the wall. It wasn’t the clearest path to her room; having been to her apartment a million times, he knew to watch out for the sharp turn toward the very short hallway. He only stumbled once and she giggled into his mouth.

As they got to the doorway, she reached and flicked one of the light switches, the power only turning on the outlet with the long string of purple star lights that went up one wall and around the high corners of her room. He’d put those up. He’d bitched the entire time. Now, he was so fucking glad he caved and did that for her short ass because she looked radiant in the glowing color.

Carefully, Inuyasha set her on her bed, crawling on top of her as she got further adjusted on the mattress.

“Still okay?” He asked between kisses.

“Shut up.” She breathily laughed, pulling him down on her by the belt loops of his jeans.

He hated and loved that she was wearing his favorite dress on her; loved for obvious reasons, and hated because the skirt of it had already bunched at her hips as he pressed between her bent legs, welcoming him in as if it were hardly a border between them, and adding to his list of reasons to love it even more. Inuyasha heard the slight hitch of breath from her nose as he softly ground into her, unable to help how the searing heat that radiated from her body taunted him worse than the sound of his name from her lips. He kissed her, his teeth raking her bottom lip, grinding again, trailing his fingers up her thigh, under the wrinkles of her dress, and gripping the plush of her hip.

Kagome’s hands had a mind of their own, maneuvering beneath the half demon’s loose-fitted tee and over his back to feel the defined muscles contracting as he slowly and rhythmically moved against her. She settled at the small of his back, just above the line of his pants, her fingers massaging over the Venus dimples she’d always desired to touch every time they peeked out when the hem of his shirt rode a little high. As if reading her mind, Inuyasha kneeled above, pulling the back collar of his shirt up and over his head, discarding the cursed item of clothing on the floor.

The heat from his skin was blissful. He’d meshed back with her body as if he hadn’t left, curving against her, kissing her feverishly, and she’d only wished for another second to look at the silver happy trail that began at the bottom of his navel and disappeared behind dark blue jeans.

Inuyasha ventured south of her mouth, nudging the curve of her jaw out of his way as he kissed down the side of her neck. He smiled into her skin when he’d coincidentally nipped at the right spot, her fingers flexing against his back as she gasped. Again, he kissed the spot between her clavicle and throat, lingering for added effect before moving on down her chest. She arched, perking her breasts upward perfectly so he could drag his lips over the fleshy curves just above the hem of her dress, all the while utilizing her position to hike the cloth even further up her body, over her stomach, up her ribcage, until it was bunched at her chest. Kagome followed his pull and sat up to allow him to remove the garment, the space between them instantly filled by Inuyasha pressing his mouth to hers once more and laying her down.

He seemed breathless, his guided motions against her practiced and careful. She felt she should have been nervous, shy, or even embarrassed, but she wasn’t. No, she felt like she was exactly where she was meant to be with exactly who she was meant to be with. Maybe it was by chance, or maybe it was because she loved him too much to express with words. It didn’t matter anymore. Not as he hovered inches above her, his ember eyes taking her body in before he allowed his hands to glide any further. Kagome smiled. She was happy. She was perfectly comfortable. She combed her fingers through his tousled hair and he gazed up at her, a fire in his irises that lit up her night. And he smiled too.

Inuyasha reached behind him, pulling the annoying, rolled up hat from his back pocket that he’d been too preoccupied to throw aside, finally getting rid of the damn thing before unbuttoning his jeans and lowering the zipper. She helped him push them down until they were too low for her to reach, her fingers raking over the material of his boxers while he kicked his pants off. She dragged them around his hip, incorporating her nails a little, biting her lip as she neared his cock. Shifting her hand, she trailed the tips of her fingers up his hard length, his mouth parting at the sensation. Kagome repeated the delicate pattern, up and down, sometimes teasing and gliding over his pelvis, then back to his shaft all the way to the head. He didn’t know why he liked it so much. It was so simple, so soft, but felt so fucking good, even better when she took a firm grip of it over his boxers, bringing a heady grunt from his throat.

She was going to be the death of him.

Inuyasha pushed her wrists away, pressing into her hips as he grazed his lips against hers, inching away as she reached for a kiss, only to tease her with a ghost of a touch. He dragged his thumb along her bottom lip, watching her mouth part in effect, and he dipped the appendage inside, biting back his sigh as she tauntingly sucked until he removed it. This time, he dipped his index in, and again she sucked, her hot tongue moving over his finger until he removed it and transferred it to the line of her white panties, pushing beneath to drag his wet finger along her lips. There was a small gasp from her, the sound hardly controlled. He dipped in, mindful of his claws, gently spreading her juices over her clit. There was a whimper on her breath that time, but he wanted more. He incorporated his middle finger, applying just a little more pressure, avoiding her clit for a small moment as he watched her worry her bottom lip, then began to massage the swollen nub, her back arching as she gave him a broken keen.

“Condom.” He groaned, and Kagome clumsily reached for her nightstand, pulling open the drawer but unable to reach inside from her position. Inuyasha took over, easily finding the pack and pulling one out. Dropping the wrapper on her tummy for a brief second, he curled his fingers at the hips of her panties, pulling them down and removing them completely, then promptly took off his boxers. He retrieved the condom then, opening the wrapper and securing the rubber over his cock.

He lined himself perfectly over her, nudging at her entrance and observing the way she didn’t tense in the least. Her chocolate gaze flickered to meet his, her fair skin glowing a shade of lavender from the lighting. Inuyasha pushed inside, Kagome’s mouth parting as she sighed out. He ground against her tantalizingly slow, and he let out a grunt of his own, the sound muffled by the curve of her neck. She clutched him at his sides, even as he paused, her nails softly gliding up and down his ribcage. 

He propped himself up on a forearm, his other hand smoothing the dark bangs from Kagome’s forehead. “Are you still okay?”

“I’m with you,” She smiled. “This is perfect.”

There was an expanding rush through his chest, eliminating all anxieties from his system and warming him like a campfire had been ignited nearby. He was struck deep by that comment.

He’d asked her how she’d never noticed. The real question was, how hadn’t he?

Nothing was unrequited. Nothing had ever been that way.

He kissed her, breathing out as he began to pump. Kagome moaned as he ground deep, and it only served to fuel him, aid him in his vehemence, encourage him to roll his hips and see how long it would take her to whine his name. He teased her by hastening his pace just enough to get her arching into him, then slowed so much he, himself, was hissing from the ache that needed quelling. 

He’d propped himself up on his hands so he could watch her bounce with his thrusts, keeping them steady and controlled, and he could tell she was getting closer and closer, the intensity building rapidly. Kagome had grasped his forearms, bucking her hips to meet his pace, breathing heavily, soft whines and broken gasps on her tongue. He decreased his speed, but ground into her harder, groaning as she dug her nails in. He dipped down to whisper in her ear.

“How do you want it, baby?”

“F-faster.” She shakily answered.

“Will you cum for me?”

She could only nod.

He complied, protecting the top of her head from the frame of the bed by using his hand as a border, thrusting faster, nudging her legs to wrap around him so he could flow deeper. There was a clenched curse that slipped from her lips as he felt her body grow tighter, tighter, tensing, her thighs trembling along his hips as she whimpered the first two syllables of his name. Inuyasha smiled, softly shushing her while she came down, slowing incredibly but never stopping. 

As Kagome relaxed slightly, Inuyasha tapped her thighs, allowing her to release her hold. He hooked his arm in the crook of one knee, hiking it up as he pumped inside. She smiled as she exhaled, and the look of her responding so blissfully to him almost pushed him over right there. He thrusted just a little harder, watching her head roll back into her mess of pillows. Then a little harder as she clutched the pillow cover just above her sprawled out hair. Then even harder as she whispered for him to do so, her swollen lips pursed as she grunted from one of his studious grinds. His body flushed hot as he felt the wave growing within, felt his impending climax clenching every muscle, held on for one more small moment just to see Kagome pull the pillow over to hide her face, and then bucked a few more times before heavily succumbing.

As he washed out of his reverie, Inuyasha lifted the pillow from over Kagome with a simple “Hi,” the both of them laughing and curling into each other to live out the afterglow. He half expected to have The Talk, but maybe enough had been said already. She was joking with him as they laid beneath the sheets, giggling and fiddling with his ears like everything was as natural as ever. Kissing her had quickly become his favorite hobby, especially as she grew sleepy. Her lips were plush and slow against his, but still enthusiastic enough not to let him stop. Her hands liked to travel into his hair, liked to grasp whenever he got carried away - not to stop him, but to encourage him.

Around three in the morning, he pulled her to lay against his chest, closing his eyes to the feeling of her fingertips trailing along the muscles near his hips. He combed her hair back with his nails, content to stay like this for as long as physically possible, content to stay conscious as she drifted to sleep so he wouldn’t lose a single moment more.

“Hey,” Kagome whispered, her voice vibrating against his side.

“Hm?”

“Did you lock the door?”

“I locked it when I came back for my hat.” He chuckled, kissing the top of her head.

[honeyrose-tea]

are you doing anything for new years? if you could call any friend to talk to at midnight to enter the new year together, who would you choose? do you enjoy staying up late or going to bed early? do you like making new years resolutions? if so, what are some of your new years resolutions for 2021? did you have any for 2020? did you succeed at them? if you didn't, are you going to try again this year? what are your hopes for the upcoming year? your fears? your most ridiculous prediction? -🌙

no, I don't have any plans for new years. my parents will likely put on the tv and I might watch a bit of the festivities, or I may just go to bed and let the year come softly. either way, it won't be too eventful. but I don't mind

the past few years I've gone to my friend Syl's (@spice-ghouls) house to celebrate new years with them and a couple friends, and I've always enjoyed that. and they're basically my only friend at the moment, as well as being one of my oldest and best friends. so probably them. I love them very much

I hate waking up early. though I love the morning and think it's a beautiful time of day, I like waking up when my body tells me to and that rarely coincides with the morning. I especially hate alarms, no matter what tone they are it's always such an abrupt way to start the day. I'm excited for the day when my significant other (who is hopefully a lighter sleeper than I am) wakes up to a quiet alarm, rolls over, and gently wakes me up so we can start our day together. maybe then I wouldn't mind waking up early.

as for staying up late, I don't love it either. I do love the night, it has a peace that is similar to yet distinct from the morning. but staying up late is honestly almost a compulsion at this point and it definitely has negative effects on me. it's something I've been working to stop doing over the past year or two. I still do it (it's almost 1am as I type this) but I don't love it either. the best nights are when I go to sleep at a reasonable time (8-11pm) and wake up naturally, but still early enough not to feel as if the day is already wasted

I'm not big on resolutions, actually. I mean I don't mind them, I just don't usually don't have any. if I want to do something, I just start doing it right away, I don't wait for a certain time to start. if I get a whim in July or October or even December to start writing more poems or posting less on social media or whatever, I start immediately instead of making it a whole big new years resolution. part of that is because I'm very instrospective and goal-driven by nature so I'm always seeking out new ways to grow and improve. I think people in general don't think much about their goals until it's time for a milestone like the new year. I guess it's also because the new year just isn't that big of a deal for me. if anything I seem to reflect most on my growth around my birthday rather than new years

that said, I did have a resolution in 2019, simply because I happened to get a whim right around that time of year. the resoltion was to visit all the counties in my state. I had lived here my whole life and hadn't been very far outside the city I live in, I wasn't really familiar with the state's geography either, and that didn't sit right with me. I felt like I couldn't call myself a real resident until I really took ownership of the and got out into the state itself. so from January to July I visited 80+ counties, often with one or both of my parents, and it was incredible. it made me feel so much more connected to my region and we found so many hidden gems. I have tons of pictures and I've done some writing about it if you're ever interested. but yeah, since then it's been kinda hard to come up with new resolutions. I feel like I peaked with that one, I don't know how I'd top it.

I'm not planning on a resolution for 2021, but maybe something will pop into my head in the next couple days. I want to be more social after the vaccine, that I know for sure. it was kind of a wake-up call that the pandemic didn't change my social life hardly at all. I want to spend more time with friends and family and enjoy the little things like the ability to eat in a restaurant or cafe or go thrift shopping or go to the movies. I just think I should do more with my life, and I've been feeling that way for several years now. I've made some small steps, but post-quarantine I want to make bigger ones. my lifetime is finite. outside of that I don't know of anything big I hope to accomplish in 2021. good grades I guess, but that's kind of a given. I'm always aiming for good grades

I hope that the year is filled with love and warmth. I hope it is calm, joyful, and that I can live it out with all the people I love by my side. I hope that for everyone else too, that they can be closer to their loved ones. I hope for less death and sickness and that the virus is eradicated as soon as possible. I hope for more equality and progress, and though they are slow I do believe they're coming. I hope that life becomes more normal, and that people who are hurting are comforted. I hope things go well for my church, because it means a lot to me. selfishly I hope for a significant other, and I hope it's the last one. I'm so ready to be with the person I will spend my life with, I like the thought of stability and security, of building a life with someone. and even more selfishly I hope it's Eli. I hope my dog stays healthy, that my chickens live long lives as well, and that the weather is nice. I hope I get to spend more time outside. I hope that children get to see their friends, go to school, and that they are more carefree. though I don't have any siblings I do have some special kids in my life and I hated seeing how they've suffered this year. I just hope everything is better and happier for everyone, that we are all more successful and compassionate. I especially hope that we will carry our lessons from 2020 with us but leave behind the pain

I have a lot of fears. I am scared of the unknowns about the virus- the effectiveness of the vaccine on a massive population, the new strains, the long-term effects of the virus or even the vaccine that may crop up months or years from now, and much more. I am scared about the state of our society and how reforming it seems nearly impossible, I am scared that at some point this unsustainable system will fall apart, I am afraid of how and when that will happen and how many people will have to suffer and die amidst the collapse. I am afraid of a very lonely and uneventful year, I am afraid of a lonely year filled with bad events too. I am afraid for the health and safety of everyone, especially those I love. I know we aren't out of the woods yet, and the new year will not be a magical fix. I am a little afraid regarding how quickly my future is approaching, that in 2021 I will need to be looking at grad schools and applying to begin my graduate program in fall 2022. I am afraid I will lose my passion, I am afraid maybe I never had any passion to begin with. and as always, I am afraid of being forgotten, but also afraid of being known, deeply known, and still remaining unloved. I think we often forget the mortifying ordeal of being known is not guaranteed to result in love

still, I don't want to dwell on my fears, and though it has been tempting in the midst of all this chaos, I think I have managed to push them away most of the time. I think fear is rarely productive except sometimes as a motivator, and even then I would rather be motivated by love or hope or optimism than by fear. I will end with my absurd prediction, which is of course that Eli and I will get back together and it will be permanent. I hate to say it but I do honestly believe it, even though I know it's ridiculous. I have a deep sense that it will happen. I don't know why. it is just a divine knowing, one that I have only felt before on a couple occasions, both of which were definitely orchestrated by God, I have no doubt about either. but feelings aside, you can never predict the future, and I am excited to see what happens regardless. there is joy in not completely knowing, joy in knowing that you will get to live it out and watch it all unfold. all that I can do is learn and love and grow and work as hard as I can, and the universe will take care of the rest

thank you for this, my friend. your questions aid in my self-reflection and I always feel like I know myself better after writing to you. I hope you are well, and thank you again for taking an interest in me. it means a lot to me, more than I can say. I hope your holidays were/are well. are you doing anything for new years? talk you soon:) xoxo💞

[eldritchsurveys]

674.

have you ever violated school dress code? >> I wasn’t allowed to wear anything that would have violated any school dress codes, so I have no idea how that would have ever happened.

if you are listening to music, is the singer male / female? >> I’m not listening to music.

what [ if anything ] do you give up for Lent? >> I don’t observe Lent.

what phrase leads your mind directly to the gutter? >> I mean, I can’t think of any on command, but there are plenty I come across online and stuff that make me snicker. I just like wordplay, tbh.

when you feel like giving up, how do you convince yourself not to? >> I mean, it’s mostly Can Calah who gives the impassioned arguments in defense of not giving up. I just listen and gripe and wait for his infallible logic to work its magic.

what are your opinions on immigration? >> I don’t have a blanket opinion on immigration. I have no personal issue with individual immigrants, no matter their story. They’re just people to me, who want the same things I want -- to survive, to have their needs met, to make a better life.

would you tell an actual immigrant your views? >> Of course I would, if they were unsure where they stood with me.

what was the subject of the last list you made? >> I don’t remember the last time I made a list.

do you ever get nervous before interviews / important meetings? >> I mean, I would if that was a thing that occurred in my life.

who pays for the majority of your belongings? >> It’s pretty evenly split between me and Sparrow.

would you ever willingly shop in a thrift store? >> Of course...?

what is the most that you would ever spend on an outfit? >> I mean... that depends on many factors, including what the outfit is for and how much money I have.

is there anything you do that just outrages your parents? >> ---

when was the last time you were embarrassed in public? >> I don’t remember.

have you ever won an award you were actually proud of? >> I mean, maybe a long time ago. Doubtful, though.

the importance of education, rate it from 1-10, 10 as most important? explain your choice to rate it as such? >> I rank formal education rather low on my personal importance scale, but I rank informal, interest-based learning very high on my personal importance scale. I love to learn, but I don’t operate well in school settings and actually end up learning less in those settings.

what is the coolest science experiment you've ever done? >> I haven’t done any cool science experiments. :(

are you experiencing difficulties with any friends right now? >> No.

how do you deal with a fight between yourself and a friend? >> I don’t know how to deal with that kind of thing anymore.

when you apologize to someone after a fight, how do you go about saying that you are sorry? >> I haven’t been in this situation in a long time, I don’t know.

have you ever played around with "dry ice"? >> No.

do you think parents are responsible for the actions of their children? >> Of course they are, if we’re talking literal children (not teenagers). It takes some time for a small human to develop the sense of independent reasoning and reckoning of consequence that would allow them to take full responsibility for their actions.

how do you, personally, define music? >> I never really thought about it, it’s one of those concepts where I basically take my understanding of it for granted.

should the military draft take both men AND women? why / why not? >> That’s not a debate I’m willing to get into. I want nothing to do with a draft and I ideally wouldn’t want anyone else to have to deal with getting drafted, actually.

when was the last time that you corrected someone? >> I don’t remember. It was probably something really minor and not a big deal for either party. --Oh yeah I remember now, it was about why Bourbon Street is named Bourbon Street.

when was the last time you were corrected? >> It was also probably about something minor and nbd. I think the last time might have been when I misspelled “Lolth” because believe it or not, I’ve been doing that since 2009. I always misspell it “Lloth”, it’s just what happens.

when did you last say " i told you so "? >> I don’t remember. I try to avoid saying that unless it’s about something funny/silly.

is there any celebrity you like to " keep up with "? >> Not especially. I mean, there are definitely actors and directors that I pay attention to more than others when they get involved in new things, but I always forget to like, keep regular tabs on them or whatever.

celebrity gossip: YAY or BOO? >> Boo.

what is the most life-changing book you have read? >> I couldn’t say. A lot of books I’ve read have had a significant impact on me in some way.

have you had a negative impact on anyone's life? >> Sure.

has anyone had a negative impact on yours? who / why? >> Absolutely. I’m not going to elaborate, the negative impact that others have had on me is both 1) way too lengthy and sensitive to elaborate on and 2) not worth dwelling on right now when I just want to chill and take a survey.

what does marriage mean to you, specifically? >> It means legal recognition of our partnership, which is necessary for things like, say, being each other’s advocates in a medical emergency.

how will you know when you are ready to get married? >> I didn’t bother fretting over whether I was “ready” or not. We’d been living together for a couple of years by the time the topic even came up, it didn’t seem like a weird next step to make.

how much time have you spent contemplating your own death? >> Way more time than is logical, probably.

is there a joke that you just can't stand? >> I mean, probably. There are a lot of insensitive jokes out there.

have you ever read any self-help books? >> Yeah.

what's your take on the obesity problem in america? >> I don’t have a take on it. You know what I do have a take on? The constant social pressure to be thin, and the resultant contagious obsessions with eating the “right” foods, compulsive exercising, and worrying about a number on a scale. Being fat, of all things, shouldn’t be this dramatically frightening or repulsive to people, but that’s what we’re made to believe, and that’s the message we’re all internalising on a daily basis. I’m fucking tired of it. I got enough problems.

what is something you used to love, but now greatly dislike? >> I don’t think I’ve ever flipped that hard on anything. There are things I’ve liked casually that I ended up not caring about later on, but nothing that I loved that I started hating later. I might shift from being obsessed with something to just being chill about it, but that’s it.

what is something you used to dislike, but now like? >> I disliked Metallica as a child.

when ( if ) you become a parent, what will you do differently, compared to how your parents raised you? >> I don’t plan on being a parent, but how I treat children in general is almost directly in contrast to how I was treated as a child. I treat them with respect, I listen to what they have to say, I let them feel their feelings, I show interest in their interests, etc.

do you equate spanking with physical abuse? would you spank a child? >> Let’s just say that I did not ever feel loved or respected when I was spanked. I felt terrified and shameful and being left alone to self-soothe afterwards with no real understanding of why I was being punished so harshly definitely didn’t help. I don’t feel like my understanding of right and wrong was healthily developed by corporal punishment. I don’t see any benefit to it, but I see a lot of harm. So, no. I would not spank a child.

what's the most ridiculous thing you've done this week? >> I have no idea. I don’t think I’ve done anything especially ridiculous?

--- did you regret it / love it / hate it / want to do it again / etc? >> ---

is emotional cheating ( in a relationship ) as bad as physically cheating? >> I have no opinion on this, it’s irrelevant to my life.

if your bf/gf wanted to wait until marriage for sex, would you be willing? >> ---

when you look at the sunset, what do you think about / feel? >> I mean, it all depends, don’t it? I don’t have the exact same thought every time I look at something.

is there someone you wish you could trust / you wish was trustworthy? >> No. I just wish I didn’t have such overdeveloped trust issues.

is there anyone that you no longer want in you life? who / why? >> Well, yeah, and those people are, therefore, no longer in my life.

how has your outlook on life changed in the past few years? >> I’m not sure, I haven’t really kept track.

have you ever walked out of a boring movie ( in theaters )? >> No. I did want to walk out of Infinity War, though. Not because it was boring, but because it was pissing me off. (Also, that was back when Anthony was still around, and he wanted to walk out too.)

how open are you with people you know online? >> It depends on how I know them, what we have in common, how long I’ve known them and to what degree, etc.

what do you think of athletes that take steroids? >> I don’t think about that.

if a celebrity is involved in scandal after scandal, is that likely to effect how you view him/her & his/her work? >> Not really. I barely notice when scandals like that happen, anyway. It also seems like most scandals are just sensationalised overhyped nonsense to get people talking about whoever it is, for publicity, and has nothing to do with, like, the merits of the performer’s art or whatever.

what is one celebrity that you have zero respect for? >> ---

what is one fashion trend that you hope makes a comeback? >> ---

what is one that you wish would just die out already? >> ---

have you ever driven under the influence of alcohol / drugs? >> I don’t drive, period.

are you overly attached to your material possessions? >> No. I can be a bit under-attached, in fact. I’ll throw a thing away in a heartbeat. (This doesn’t apply to like, electronics, or any other expensive thing that I use on a constant basis. But like, t-shirts, books, toys, novelty items, other shit that ends up just taking up space and collecting dust? Bye.)

have you ever ridiculed anyone for their clothing choices? >> Not since I was a teenager, most likely.

living in poverty: what do you think it'd be like? >> I... I have lived in poverty. Poverty is my default state of existence. I don’t really know what to tell you about “what it’s like”. What’s it like to not be poor?

what is one " diet " that you think is just utterly worthless? >> All of them are worthless to me.

what advice would you give someone that is uncomfortable with his or her body / appearance? >> I wouldn’t give them advice. Advice is what the entire world is going to try to give them. I’d imagine they’d be tired of advice (unless they’re specifically asking me for it, I guess). But I’ll always have a “mood” or “I know that feel” to offer, because... yeah. Same. The shit sucks and there’s no easy way out of it.

what advice would you give someone about to start high school? >> I don’t even want to think about that phase of life, I’ll pass.

what foreign food are you NOT interested in trying? >> *shrug*

what foreign country do you believe is misunderstood? >> I mean, I don’t know. USian attitudes towards and assumptions about a lot of countries are... misinformed at best.

have you ever felt entirely unwanted and alone? >> Yeah.

in your eyes, which is worse: rape or murder? >> Nope, don’t care.

do you understand / read shakespeare? >> I have never been able to grok Shakespeare, and I’m not interested enough to keep trying.

would you feel comfortable living with someone that owned a gun? >> Most likely not. Luckily, that’s not likely to happen.

do you know anyone that lives in a foreign country? >> I mean, yeah, I use the internet.

[silver-lily-louise]

A Whole New World - a Shadowhunters fanfic

Summary: 'He leaps to his feet, standing in the kitchen doorway, unable to tear his gaze away as the smoke coalesces into a figure. And when that figure – a tall, lean, incredibly hot man decked out in silver jewellery, and colourful silks, and dramatic eyeliner around his golden eyes – turns to face him, Alec’s pretty sure his heart stops for a few seconds.' When Alec frees a genie trapped in a lamp, he earns three wishes, and a new temporary housemate. 

AO3 link, or alternatively, read Chapter 1 below!

~oOo~

Chapter 1: A Diamond in the Rough

Not a bad find, Alec thinks, a pleased smile on his face as he lifts the bundle of white crêpe paper from his satchel. He’d only gone to the thrift shop to donate some old clothes, but the display marked Oddities had glinted in the late afternoon sunlight, catching his eye – and when he saw the lamp, something about it just spoke to him. He checked the price ticket, and finding that it was less than twenty dollars, he decided it was worth an impulse buy. The cashier had smiled politely, and asked, ‘You an Aladdin fan, then?’ ‘Of course. It was one of our first VCRs – my brother and I watched it until it practically wore out.’ ‘Well, if you get your three wishes, remember where your good fortune came from, hm?’ They chuckled, and Alec had left in a distracted haze of nostalgia.

Now he’s finally home, he sits down at the kitchen table, and unwraps his treasure. The lamp is small, only about the size of a single-serving teapot, and it’s a little grubby, which is probably the reason it was such a steal. But under the dirt, the design is beautiful – the brass is mostly covered in blue enamel, detailed with an ornate sweep of jasmine vines from handle to spout on both sides. Once it’s cleaned up a bit, it’ll look lovely on the mantlepiece. Curious, he tries to rub some of the grime away with his thumb; and then he nearly drops the lamp when the friction unexpectedly reverberates around the base of it. Some sort of structural damage?, he wonders, but when he turns it around, there isn’t anything visible from the outside. Perhaps if he lifts the lid – but he abruptly finds he can’t lift the lid. Closer inspection reveals the problem; there’s an almost imperceptible layer of white wax, firmly attaching the lid to the main body of the lamp.

He was going to focus on cleaning it up, but if there’s some sort of crack on the inside, he doesn’t want to risk applying pressure in the wrong place and damaging the lamp. Instead, he finds a toothpick, and gets to work scratching away the wax seal.

The last piece breaks away, and Alec lifts the lid. His vision is immediately obscured, and he’s choking on a cloud of bright purple smoke – and before he can begin to worry about what sort of toxic shit this thing could have been loaded with, he nearly jumps out of his skin, because an unfamiliar voice says, ‘Finally.’

He leaps to his feet, standing in the kitchen doorway, unable to tear his gaze away as the smoke coalesces into a figure. And when that figure – a tall, lean, incredibly hot man decked out in silver jewellery, and colourful silks, and dramatic eyeliner around his golden eyes – turns to face him, Alec’s pretty sure his heart stops for a few seconds. ‘Ah!’ the man says, his eyes glowing as he flashes Alec a brilliant smile. ‘I suppose I have you to thank for my freedom?’ Alec can’t reply – he’s not sure he knows what language is at this precise moment in time – but the man seems undeterred, extending a hand. ‘I’m Magnus.’

Alec finds his voice then – but rather than anything intelligent, like Izzy put you up to this, didn’t she?, or at least semi-intelligent, like You’re welcome. I’m Alec, what comes out is a hoarse whisper: ‘What the fuck?’

The man – Magnus – frowns, and steps closer, freezing when Alec scrambles backwards with a frantic cry of, ‘No, no no no – just – don’t – Don’t come any closer.’ Magnus raises his hands in surrender. ‘It’s alright. I’m not gonna hurt you,’ he says, in the same soothing tone Alec once used on that cat he found cowering under a dumpster. ‘I just think you ought to take a seat before you fall over.’

And maybe this man is a stranger, an intruder, but Alec is feeling a little woozy right now, and good advice is good advice. ‘Yeah.’ He swallows. ‘Yeah, that’s – that’s probably…’ He stumbles over to the couch, falling onto it more than sitting. His eyes stay fixed on Magnus as he wanders over, keeping his movements slow, taking a seat in the armchair opposite Alec. After a few seconds, Magnus tilts his head as if carefully considering the man in front of him, and waves a hand. ‘Here. Drink this, it should steady your nerves.’ A glass of amber liquid appears on the table in front of Alec, and he just stares at it; first in bewilderment, and then suspicion. Magnus seems to understand – though at this point, Alec’s not ruling out genuine psychic abilities – because he rolls his eyes with an exasperated sigh, even as his face twitches in amusement. ‘It’s not poisoned, dear. That would be an awfully inconvenient way to do you harm. Not to mention extremely rude – as I said before, I’m fairly certain I owe you my freedom.’

Alec takes the glass in a slightly trembling hand, and downs it a lot faster than he probably should. He’s not much of a drinker, usually, but these are somewhat exceptional circumstances. Magnus gives a satisfied nod, and sits forward a little. ‘Okay, good. Now, here’s the rundown: No, you’re not going crazy. No, you’ve not been dosed with a particularly effective hallucinogen. And no, this is not an elaborate practical joke pulled by your sibling, partner, or best friend.’ ‘Who are you?’ Alec asks, and feels his face flush. At some point, he hopes to start talking in more than just blunt, three- or four-word sentences. Magnus laughs. ‘I told you, I’m Magnus. However, what I suspect you’re trying to avoid asking is what I am. Very polite of you…’ He raises an eyebrow. Alec starts, realising he’s being prompted. ‘Uh – Alec.’ ‘Alec.’ Magnus smiles. ‘And in answer to your question, I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I am, being as everyone and their cat appears to have seen that hack-job of a film Disney put together in the nineties.’ He shudders in exaggerated distaste. ‘So, you’re… you’re actually…’ ‘A genie,’ Magnus confirms.

Alec digests that for a moment. ‘So, what, someone put that wax seal on to trap you?’ He’s not sure why his brain has leapt to that question, exactly – but hey, at least he managed a proper sentence this time. Magnus grimaces. ‘No. Unfortunately, that was me.’ He snaps his fingers, and the lamp appears in his hands. ‘It gets awfully inconvenient having a fully detachable lid, and I was tired of misplacing it. Everything was going swimmingly, until I decided to visit the seafront.’ He waves his hand again, and there’s a dull flash of blue light. Alec blinks, and suddenly the lamp is free of all the grime that covered it earlier, and Magnus is holding up a small, round stone. ‘This is the culprit. It fell into the spout, effectively sealing me inside. Don’t get me wrong, I like it in there – I’ve had centuries to get it set up perfectly – but it’s nice to get out of the house every once in a while, wouldn’t you agree?’ Alec watches as Magnus squashes the stone in between his thumb and forefinger, flicking away the resulting dust. ‘How long were you stuck in there?’ he asks. ‘That depends. What year is it?’ ‘Twenty-nineteen.’ ‘Oh, good!’ Magnus beams. ‘I’ve barely missed a couple of years, then. Excellent news. I knew it didn’t feel like I’d hit the decade mark, but you never can be sure.’ Alec isn’t sure what to say to that, and so he just nods, turning his empty glass in his hands as Magnus levels a curious stare at him. ‘I must say, Alexander, you’re taking this remarkably well.’

Alec laughs, sharp and surprised. ‘Yeah, well, I’m only forty percent convinced that I’m awake right now.’ ‘Good point.’ Magnus sits back in his chair. ‘So, as for that favour I owe you – assuming you’re awake, and this is real, which you are and it is, by the way – will the usual do? Three wishes, excepting any feats of necromancy or wish-inflation?’ ‘I – uh – yeah, I mean, that works for me.’ He frowns, suddenly worried. ‘Do I have to make them all now?’ ‘I mean, you can, but you’ve had something of an intense evening already,’ Magnus says, a teasing lilt to his words. ‘I can wait a while.’ ‘I don’t want to hold you up, if you’ve got places to be-‘ Magnus raises an eyebrow. ‘I’ve lived for nearly eight centuries, Alec. I can afford to stick around for a week or two to return a favour. Of course, that’s providing you don’t mind me staying put for a while.’ ‘I… I don’t mind, but I don’t have a spare room,’ he says. Magnus smirks, fixing Alec with a look that makes it hard to breathe again for a moment. ‘We could always share,’ he says suggestively. Alec opens his mouth to protest, or something, but no sound comes out. Magnus laughs, apparently taking pity on him. ‘I’m joking, Alexander. Even I’m not that forward. But don’t worry about the room, I’m quite happy in the lamp.’ He looks around the room, assessing, then snaps his fingers in a gesture that declares: aha! ‘This should do nicely,’ he says, placing the lamp in pride of place on the mantelpiece, in between Izzy’s graduation photo and the golden mantel clock left to Alec by his grandmother. He turns back, gesturing to his lamp as if displaying a piece of art. ‘What do you think?’ Alec smiles. ‘Actually, that’s perfect. Exactly where I planned to put it when I bought it.’ Magnus claps his hands, looking delighted. ‘Excellent. Well,’ he says, giving a little mock-bow, ‘goodnight, Alexander. I’ll leave you to your thoughts.’ ‘You sure?’ Alec asks, and he feels himself go red yet again at Magnus’ quizzical look. ‘I just mean – you’ve been stuck in there for a while. You sure you’re okay heading back in so soon?’

Magnus looks stunned for a moment, before his expression softens into a smile. It’s warmer, more genuine, than any smile he’s put on so far, and Alec’s heart skips a beat at how beautiful it makes him look. ‘You’re very considerate, Alexander,’ he says softly. ‘But yes, I’m sure. Like I say, I like my lamp – it’s home, after all. It was only the frustration of being stuck in there I didn’t like. Now that I’m free to come and go, I’ll be absolutely fine.’ Alec nods, and Magnus waves his hands, conjuring a gentle light as he begins to melt into smoke once more. ‘It’s late – you should get some rest, too,’ he says, and then there’s only that purple smoke, which is rapidly drawn back through the spout into the lamp.

And Alec is alone in his apartment again.

He drags a hand down his face, yawning widely. It seems that Magnus is full of good advice, because sleep sounds like an excellent plan. He wonders if he ought to worry about leaving a stranger unattended in his home; but Magnus is a genie, an all-powerful magical entity, and short of sealing the lamp again – an idea that feels simply repugnant to him, given how grateful Magnus was to be free – it’s not like Alec would be able to stop him if he was inclined to create mischief or mayhem. Somehow, though, he doubts that Magnus will. It might be stupid to trust a magic man you just met after he appeared out of thin air in your kitchen, but Alec’s not sure he cares. Izzy’s always been the smart one, anyway.

He makes his way to bed, and that night, he dreams of flying over city lights on a magic carpet, next to a figure he can’t quite make out – except for their warm, beautiful smile.

~oOo~

[denbroughbill]

non stop paranoia

pairing: kasplon (mike hanlon/eddie kaspbrak) side reddie   summary: "but, maybe it would be easier if he was straight. richie hitting on him, inviting all of these boys inside their shared dorm, giving him nicknames, maybe that all wouldn’t bother him so much if he was actually straight. there was this nonstop paranoia in eddie, that felt like richie did everything he did on purpose, like he was trying to get under his skin." (or where a misunderstanding leaves people under the impression eddie is straight) read it on ao3 here!

It had rained in Portland for three days, and the rain was no longer putting Eddie at ease. Rain normally calmed him, he could curl up next to his window with a good book, and blissfully fall asleep to the sound of a heavy storm tapping against his roof. He watched the street lamps and car headlights reflect on the wet street, head against the window with a tight jaw and clenched fist as the events of the past days replayed in his head. He made a grade on an essay lower than average, submitted two past assignments later than the turn in date, resulting in points marked off the top. It seemed his mother called every hour, on the hour, making it impossible to study. And that’s when he could actually study in his own dorm, because it seemed like his roommate could not keep his dick in his pants, or less he would explode.

Eddie’s frustrations overflowed and he groaned out loud, causing his Uber driver to check on him from the rear view mirror with a raised eyebrow. Eddie rolled his eyes and sighed, shaking his head, and the driver’s eyes went back to the road.

“You’re not even going to ask what’s wrong?” blurted Eddie, another thing he didn’t really mean to say.

The man didn’t move his head, responding monotonically, “Wasn’t planning on it.”

Eddie grumbled angrily, sinking back into the seat with his arms crossed. He watched the passing scenery as the car pulled closer to his dorm building. Instead of stopping at the front and letting Eddie out there, they drove towards the student parking lot. The cold expression and monotone voice from the driver, and this suspicious act didn’t feel right to Eddie, fear replacing the anger growing in his belly.

He parked and didn’t say a single word, but had not unlock the car. Eddie gripped his key ring tightly, a key in between each finger in a wolverine like defense to protect him from whatever the man in the front seat tried to pull.

He looked at Eddie from the rear view mirror, and casually explained, “I live here.”

Eddie released the grip on his keys as he released his breath, a huge sigh of relief escaping his mouth.

The driver laughed softly, apologizing before further explaining he was looking for his umbrella. And Eddie laughed, too, realizing how foolish it was to think he was being kidnapped, when it’s not surprising that a college student would drive for Uber part time. Their laughter soothed the unsettled tension packed in the car.

Eddie graciously thanked the other, but refused when he offered to share his umbrella.

“We’re going the same way,” he said, opening the umbrella. “It’s no big deal, really.” He assured, walking along side Eddie.

Before Eddie could ask for himself, the other spoke up. “My name is Stan, by the way.” Stan was taller than Eddie, which made sharing an umbrella a little difficult, and had been driving for Uber since his first semester started.

Stan’s eyebrows raised in surprise when Eddie introduced himself. “Eddie, yeah. We’ve met before, sort of.”

“Met before?” Eddie was good with faces and names. He’s never met Stan before, he was sure of it. He had never seen his slender face, or hazel eyes.

Stan gulped, “In passing. I’m a friend of Richie’s.”

Eddie wanted to apologize for him. He wasn’t too sure how Richie conjured a line of suitors outside their dorm room. He wasn’t exactly convintely attractive, but maybe there was some underlying charm or humor there Eddie wasn’t aware of. Eddie shook his head, that couldn’t be it, Richie was overall terrible.

“He never called me.” Stan mentioned, deadpanned.

This is where, with gritted teeth, Eddie thought to cut their conversation short. As nice as Stan was, he didn’t plan on speaking about his roommate’s sexual conquests with his uber driver. They nodded and waved good night, and Eddie sighed in relief once the door was closed, lucky enough to dodge an awkward conversation. He dropped his book bag by the door. He did not text Richie to let him know he was coming back, but it is his dorm room too, and he studied at the coffee shop as long as he could before they closed. He scoffed to himself. How could someone be so selfish, to engage in some sexual rendezvous and not even obtain the manners to let them know you want nothing further? Eddie shook his head, making his way to the small kitchen they shared.

He found Beverly Marsh, legs swinging from where she sat on the counter, eating ice cream straight from the container. He knew her name because they took environmental science together, and because this isn’t the first time Eddie had walked in on her here.

They both froze. spoon hanging from Beverly’s mouth. Eddie opened his to speak, but was interrupted.

“Bev! What’s taking so long?” Richie called from the bedroom. “We’ve got about an hour until Ed comes back. Get in here!”

Eddie closed his eyes, breathing heavily as he composed himself before nodding. He said nothing to Beverly, but headed back to the door, grabbing his book bag from the floor.

He locked the door behind him, turning swiftly and almost bumping into to Stan. “What are you doing here?”

“I- uh,” Stan blinked, still adjusting from almost slamming heads with Eddie. “Thought you would need a place to retreat if Richie..” he paused, seemingly trying to find the most polite way of putting it. “had company. You want to hang out at mine?”

The night was turning in ways Eddie could not have possibly thought of before he left out that evening. He shrugged his shoulders, almost defeated. He can’t even enjoy laying in his own bed after wallowing in his emotions and a matcha latte. “Sure.” Eddie managed to crack a small smile, trailing behind Stan as they walked to his dorm.

All dorm rooms came with everything a student needed, and not many people embellished. Eddie put up a poster or two, but him and Richie’s dorm was minimalist at best. Stan’s dorm, however, had plants. A lot of them. An ivy that seemed limitless, protruding from an overhead shelf and stretching out to rustle Stan’s hair. “Water?” he offered from the tiny kitchen, not brushing the leaves away from his face.

“I’m okay. You have a green thumb?” Eddie questioned, still near the door. He wasn’t comfortable enough to drop his bag, or remove his jacket yet, and wasn’t exactly welcomed in.

“Oh, no.” Stan blew a gust of air upwards, making the leaves sway. He bumped the refrigerator door with his hip, closing it, then returned to the tiny living space. “It’s my roommate’s. You don’t want to sit?”

Eddie giggled, sitting down on ridiculously patterned armchair, and gripping his bookbag in his lap. He was surprised it wasn’t covered in plastic, by how ornate it looked, maybe Stan thrifted it from a resale shop. “Are you drinking wine?”

“Yeah, wine. It’s a Friday, we’re in college.” Stan responded nonchalantly, sitting in a chair across from him. It wasn’t a matching furniture set, another piece bought second hand, but had to be comfortable. Stan sat with his legs stretched over an arm of the chair. “It’s boxed Franzia, not that fancy.” He assured, raising his glass and taking a sip.

Eddie nodded. Stan was comfortable in his own dorm, of course, but Eddie had yet to even shed his own jacket. He wanted to open his body language, in some way that said, ‘I can make friends and be cool under even the wackiest of circumstances! Thanks for letting me in your dorm room!’ but instead, he peered around, examining the place, quiet.

“Is it okay that I’m here?” Eddie asked.

“My roommate’s out, so you can relax, really.” Stan responded.

“Is he out doing what Richie does?” Eddie tried to ease up, cracking a joke, and Stan laughed, trying his best not to choke while sipping his wine.

“Oh, no. Not unless Richie gets paid for what he’s doing.” Eddie raised an eyebrow.

Stan explained, “He’s at work. Mike’s working.” and Eddie nodded.

Just mentioning Richie’s name made Eddie’s ears heat up. Why he was stuck with inconsiderate, sex addicted jerk as a roommate, instead of one who gardened, was beyond him. It wasn’t just the constant sex partners that bothered Eddie, it was how he left laundry in the living space when the hamper was in the bedroom, or how he drank Eddie’s almond milk, when he had a half gallon of dairy right next to it.

He thought back to earlier when he confronted Richie, about how he hated leaving his own room for Richie to fuck.

Richie just laughed at Eddie, standing outside their door this evening, “You don’t have to leave,” he patted Eddie on the shoulder before he closed the door on him, “Hell, you could join sometimes.”

Eddie groaned exasperatedly, throwing his hands up. “Ugh!” He was glad Mike was not there, because he was loud. He looked over at Stan, who was staring at Eddie, wide eyed due to his sudden outburst.

“Sorry.” Eddie squeaked. He had originally not planned on venting, but as he poured out his frustrations on his Uber driver he just met hours ago, anyone would’ve thought Eddie was the one drinking wine.

Stan listened, though, nodding tentatively as he tried to piece everything together. He sat up, crossing his legs as a therapist would before setting his glass, without a coaster. “So, you’re mad Richie hit on you?”

Eddie frowned, crossing his arms over his bookbag. “Well, yeah. Where does he get off doing that? Why would I ever stoop that low?” He shook his head, looking over at Stan.

“Oops, I didn’t mean—“

Stan shook his head, finishing what was left in his glass, and constraining his laughter. “No, don’t apologize.” He grinned. He leaned back, wine taking effect as he smiled, thought back to when he slept with Richie, and spoke with ease. “I mean, it was fun.”

Eddie sat up, unimpressed. “Fun?” he asked. “Don’t you want a relationship more than.. fun?”

Stan pondered for a moment before shrugging his shoulders in agreement, and nodding. “Well, yeah. That’s why I’m not seeing him now.” He stood up, making his way back to the kitchen to pour another glass. “And what Richie and I had is not what I would call a relationship.”

Eddie groaned in response, leaning back against the chair, frustrated.

“I mean, come on, you’ve never thought about it?”

Stan raised his head from behind the kitchen bar as he heard Eddie exclaim. “Yuck! As if!”

And Stan nodded silently, shrugging, and directed his attention back to his glass. He said monotonously, “Oh, my bad. I didn’t know you were straight.”

Eddie sputtered, “Straight?”

“Yeah. That’s why you’re so offended. Because you’re straight, right?”

He had no trouble speaking what was on his mind tonight, but Eddie stopped to ponder. He definitely was not straight— he came out before leaving home for college, an argument with evil words from his mother that still left a sour taste in his mouth when he thought about it. But, maybe it would be easier if he was straight. Richie hitting on him, inviting all of these boys inside their shared dorm, giving him nicknames, maybe that all wouldn’t bother him so much if he was actually straight. There was this nonstop paranoia in Eddie, that felt like Richie did everything he did on purpose, like he was trying to get under his skin.

Eddie wasn’t exactly open about his sexuality, but he wasn’t ashamed of it, either. Maybe somewhere deep inside of him, he could have some sort of weird, jealous crush on Richie. But he wouldn’t admit to it now. As he opened his mouth to deny Stan’s idea, someone walked into the dorm.

The possibility of Eddie having any sort of interest in Richie was washed away. His mother would faint at the sight of how Eddie eyed the boy up and down, almost salivating while unshamelessly checking out the tall, dark, and handsome man. The sight of his straight, sparkling white teeth made Eddie’s head spin, but he cleared his throat, and that bought Eddie back down to earth.

“Uh, hey. I didn’t know Stan was having company.” He said, closing the door behind him. He tossed his jacket on the empty chair Stan was sat in.

“Oh, hi.” Eddie sprung up, wiping his hands on his pants before extending one. “I’m Eddie. I was getting ready to go, really.”

“I’m Mike.” he grinned, and had a firm handshake. “You can stay, you’re not bothering me.”

Stan emerged from the kitchen, glass in his grasp. “Mike! Welcome home!” he waltzed to where the two were standing, and threw an arm over Eddie’s shoulder, almost toppling him over, as Stan was significantly taller than me.

“This is my friend, Eddie.” He slurred his words as he introduced him. Apparently, the wine started to kick in. Eddie thought Stan was a different person when he was drunk, and he definitely had too much to drink, as drunk on wine as a middle aged, lonely, housewife.

He snorted when he laughed, leaning closer to Mike. “He’s straight, can you believe that!” What was suppose to be a whisper embarrassed Eddie, and Mike cracked an awkward smile, removing Stan’s arm from Eddie’s shoulder.

“Someone’s had too much to drink,” Mike sighed as Stan collapsed into his chest, and he wrapped an arm around him. “I’m sorry, but it was nice to meet you, Eddie.”

Eddie nodded, waving goodbye to the both of them, and let himself out. He leaned his back against the door once he was outside, and hung his head, embarrassed. Letting out a huge sigh, he held his head in his hands. The rain poured heavily, storm crashing on the roof of the dorm building like his thoughts, and all hopes of ever impressing Mike, crashing down as well. He dragged his feet back to his dorm, the only other faces he saw this late in the halls were from disheveled people like Beverly, retreating to their own room after sleeping in someone else’s.

He rethought the events as he prepared for bed, washing his face and changing into different clothes. He emerged from the bathroom, and Richie was fast asleep, snoring as usual. Eddie tossed and turned, the snoring keep him awake. He scoffed under his breath, mumbling to himself how dumb it was to allow both of them to think he was straight. The thought of Mike’s handsome face made Eddie’s stomach turn, he didn’t even have a chance to be turned down by Mike, like he expected he would be, before Stan blew it for him.

His eyes shot open when he realized he left his bag at their dorm. He rolled over on his side, curling up, and buried his face deep in his pillow, like he was shielding it from embarrassment. Eddie had to face them both again, and he was dreading it. As if this day wasn’t bad enough, it was almost like he had to relive all of it tomorrow.

[curlyjoe7]

Forming Your Own Opinions.

First off - major trigger warning for rape, manipulation and abuse. Second off - this is an adult conversation, between adults and only adults. I don’t want any arguments just informed debate. If you don’t know the situation then don’t speak. If you don’t like my opinion, agree to disagree, unfollow or block and move on. Everyone has the right to express their thoughts, all arguing will result in being blocked. Third off - I know this is old and no one wants to hear about it anymore but I just formed an opinion on it which I want to talk about. Sorry if hearing about it bothers you.

For the longest time and still even so now I have had the mentality: go with the popular opinion or just be quiet and you will be liked. Which is very toxic. I am obsessed with being liked, being plastic and letting others control my thoughts. I’m trying to get away from that though and this is my first step. Stating a controversial opinion. A big one. Very big. It’s hard for me, the whole thing has thrown me into a few severe anxiety attacks but I have to do this to get better or I never will. I’m super nervous and I’m ready to be hated or as ready as I possibly can be whilst simultaneously freaking out. So what’s my opinion? That Melanie Martinez is innocent. Just hear me out. Here’s why I think she’s innocent:

I was a big Melanie fan at the time of the rape accusations. At first when I heard it I thought “wow this is terrible, she’s a rapist” and cancelled her. It was really hard but I knew it was the best thing to do. After all it’s better to side with a potential victim than a potential rapist, right? I also knew nothing about the backstory so I had nothing to work off of but the word of someone I didn’t know existed and the statement “she never said no to what we chose to do together.” I as many thought that was a dumb excuse, just because someone doesn’t say no doesn’t mean it means yes. But like I said, I had no backstory so I moved on and unfanned Melanie, as hard as it was for me. Randomly I thought of it again, in the past week, and wondered if there was anything else about it. Looked it up and well... there’s a ton. I want to make a disclaimer that when looking at all the evidence, I took into consideration both sides. I was completely unbiased in this despite my past love of Melanie. Rape is a serious issue and should be treated like that not just excused because you like the person who is accused of it. Though with what I was learning, Timothy’s story seemed fishy with some holes. So I did more digging. First let’s get the story clear of what supposedly happened:

And that’s it basically. That’s the story, coming straight from her Twitter. Pretty horrifying, manipulating and wrong. Makes you feel bad for Timothy. But it doesn’t end there. After she released that statement Melanie released her own:

Many people thought it was her admitting to it and claiming it wasn’t rape because she let it happen. Which had us thinking she was guilty as sin. Until Timothy started releasing more information. Apparently that same day they went to a thrift shop and picked up a game that included a blindfold, handcuffs, and a dice that said things like “lick leg.” Which she never mentioned at all before. Originally Timothy said that Melanie bought it but then later said she herself did. Which is odd since she stated she has been abused before and sexual stuff made her uncomfortable. But whatever she said she thought it would be funny. Now here’s where it gets weird, she never mentioned the game before, right?Maybe she forgot? Sure that’s reasonable. They played the game on June 25th 2015 according to Timothy in an interview:

At Melanie’s house. Melanie’s house is in LA. This is important because with further information, she was in New York performing on stage that day. She even made an Instagram post about it:

And fans have pictures of her on stage. You notice how her hair is blonde and black in this pic? Well to support her cause Timothy posted a picture of Melanie the night it happened:

Her hair is a different color. And on her phone it shows up as May 6th, 2015. She claims it’s because her iCloud is messed up and that pictures of her recently showed up at being in 2011:

I went to Melanie’s Instagram to see her hair color May 6th, 2015 and just look:

On May 2nd her hair was that color in the picture. It’s actually really easy to change dates on your iCloud too. That’s... odd. But there’s even more, I believe she said they stopped being freinds after that but I know she said they stopped being friends in 2016, yet in 2017 she said this:

Okay. Change it once, maybe you forgot but if she changed it twice and still got it wrong? Suspicious. She actually has changed a lot of the story, multiple times. She said originally she didn’t want to go to the cops because she was afraid they wouldn’t believe her then said on her Instagram Live that yeah it’s bad but not murder so she doesn’t deserve to go to jail. So which is true? I mean it doesn’t matter her reason, it’s her decision but why is the reason changing? In Timothy’s original statement she mentioned some of Melanie’s fans became her fans but their loyalty never strayed from Melanie. That’s... irrelevant. But is it actually? Melanie was supposed to release a new album one month later. Which didn’t end up happening and when you went to Timothy’s Twitter at the time she had a pinned tweet for her song. Kinda weird but okay, it was probably there before. But why mention the loyalty of her fans never straying from her? Like I said, it’s irrelevant to the topic but not to her potential motives. They started their careers at the same time and Melanie was more popular too. And apparently started focusing on her music more than her friends so both of these might be the reason why. Seems reasonable. Now of course I wanted to check the stuff on Melanie’s side too but all I found was the original statement and this one:

Which in my opinion does clear up the “she never said no” thing. I think what she was trying to say is, Timothy didn’t say no multiple times like she said she did and that Melanie would never have sex with someone without their complete confirmation. Maybe even she meant she didn’t say no to the game they played. Though it could mean: “She never said no, I didn’t act on when she did say no but pressured her to give in.” And what Melanie says in this statement: “I trusted so many people in my life who took advantage of that trust for their own personal gain” supports the fact Timothy did it for fame. She also mentioned that in her song she released on Spotify called Piggyback that goes:

Trusted too many people while I was still young

Gave them the benefit of the doubt, I was so wrong

I cut them off and they came for blood cause they know

They ain’t getting no more

I’m so done playing piggyback

Swear to god I wished y’all all the best

You’re lying your way to try to gain a piece of me

When you could never come close cause I know my destiny

I worked hard for my shit

Put my love in this shit

Now you’re trying to kill my name for some fame

What is this?

Tried to help you do your shit

Encouraged you to work on it

Was a good friend and you used that to your advantage

Timothy did mention when Melanie blew up that she didn’t have time anymore for her and that she wanted to focus on her fans and music. So it does make sense that she did this for attention, to hurt Melanie. Even so the way Melanie worded her statement originally, doesn’t help her cause. Just made her look worse. The second statement however does clear it up in my opinion. With all the evidence and what Melanie said, it’s 1 point she’s guilty to multiple that she’s innocent. Even if you don’t like her you can’t deny that. There may be more points towards her being guilty as well, I’m not sure but this is all I could find, though there is just too many points towards her being innocent. In reality though none of this is fact, it’s just evidence and even evidence can be fake or twisted sometimes. Here’s a few more things about Timothy though and this story:

She says she doesn’t want to talk about it anymore but yet is willing to keep bringing it up. She dressed up as Melanie in 2016, a year after the rape, why would you put yourself through so much pain and do that? Idk just seems like it would hurt you more but she did love her so maybe that’s why: she was trying to deny the truth because of how much she loved her. She also suffers from BPD (Boarderline Personality Disorder) which I hate to bring up, just because she has a mental illness doesn’t mean she would do something fucked up. Just because anyone has a mental illness doesn’t mean it’s the reason for everything. Mental illness doesn’t equal bad morals but it can lead you to do bad things. Trust me I know, I have depression, anxiety and OCD. My OCD causes me to try to avoid particular things which I don’t always do in a nice way. I hurt people because I don’t want to deal with something related to it. This could be the same situation. The symptoms of BPD do explain why she would do this to hurt Melanie. For example some of the symptoms for BPD are pervasive instability in moods, distaste of one’s self image, insecurity and problems with interpersonal relationships. It seems logical with that info why she would do it if she is lying. Not to mention Timothy has claimed abuse on past bandmates of her old band Dresses where she only stayed cause they needed her voice. She has the history to make claims, I have no idea if it’s true though. She also allegedly molested a 16 year old girl. Also unsure if that’s true but if she did that she might have based the story on what she did since the story is quite similar. Regardless, here’s my complete opinion on the matter:

Timothy made it up for attention because she was jealous Melanie was focusing on her music not her and that she wasn’t as popular, probably a lot being because of her BPD. She knew a story like this would get attention and people would believe with the rising amount of sexual assault victims coming forward. So she posted it and then remembered she knew she had that picture of the game so she started basing it around that, picking a random date and saying it happened at Melanie’s house cause they are in her house in the pic, not knowing what Melanie actually did that day. However though she forgot the picture was dated and tried to blow it off as her iCloud being messed up which she supported by changing the date on recent pictures to awhile ago. And also she can’t remember parts of her story so she makes up new stuff and changes stuff a lot. Then she goes on to social media shading her and posting things about how hard it is to get empathy. Stuff like the picture on her IG story which is her crying (it just looks like she put in eyedrops to me) I would post but I hit the picture limit. She even contacted her friends to get in on it to make it look legit. She hasn’t gone to the cops because she knows they will find it bs and she’ll be revealed as lying. Most juries which are meant to be unbiased would side with Melanie because of the evidence so if it is false that explains why she hasn’t gone to the cops. And if it is real, honey if you don’t remember a part just say you don’t remember, it’s not helping your cause.

But that’s just my opinion, everyone has their own. There is probably even more to this that I don’t know but I shared everything I do. Though regardless let’s remember no side has concrete proof. To me everyone is innocent until proven guilty. You can’t really call her a good or a bad person and say it’s fact because you don’t know the truth. You can however support her by forming an opinion based on your own view of the situation. That doesn’t make you a bad person or someone who is defending rape. And to everyone who believes it: don’t get on the people who think it’s bullshit. You can’t deny there is a lot of holes in the story. And it doesn’t make you look better or woke nor is it siding with a potential rapist, it’s siding with evidence and your opinion. Evidence is better to side with than a potential victim just because they are a potential victim. Some people make stuff up. Even horrible things like that. Also don’t side with Melanie just because you like her, actually do some research and use your brain not your heart. It makes you a horrible person to just support her because “she’s my idol and a true fan would support her even if she’s a rapist!!!” That’s so fucked up. It truly makes me sick to hear delusional stans saying that. People like you are making the situation worse and contributing to rape culture. Delusional stans are also saying if you didn’t believe Melanie from the beginning on this situation you’re not a real fan. Which is not true at all. We are real fans, we just wanted to not instantly believe she didn’t do it because we like her. We wanted to figure out how we see the situation by looking at the evidence before jumping to conclusions. That makes us logical. On a similar note us questioning the situation and trying to find more information on it to form an opinion is also being logical. Not invalidating a potential rape victim. But rather doing the right thing and giving both parties the right to a fair trial. And if any of you are going to say: “why hasn’t Melanie done more about it then?” Would you want to talk about something like this? Something that damaged your career immensely? No, you wouldn’t. If it’s real, I’m sorry Timothy that this happened to you and Melanie deserves consequences. But if it is false, I’m sorry you have to deal with this Melanie and Timothy deserves consequences. Form your own opinion and please be respectful. I’m going to go back to supporting Melanie because I genuinely believe that she didn’t do it. That’s my decision, make your own. And don’t get on Melanie or Timothy, no cyber bullying them. Like I said you don’t know the truth nor do I, only they do. Even if you did being mean gets you nowhere. Now let’s just let this go and move forward from it.

[devilsknotrp]

Congratulations, Honey! You are accepted for the role of Mandy Silverman. This is another sample application for potential applicants to have a look at. You’ll notice that this is quite a long application, but that’s just how I write. You can do whatever you like with yours! If you have any questions about this application or any characters with a connection to Mandy, don’t hesitate to let me know.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Name: Honey Age: Twenty five Pronouns: She/her Timezone: GMT+11 Activity estimation: I essentially work full time and have several obligations, but this group is so tightly organised and planned that I’m confident in participating regularly on the dashboard and as an admin! My admin duties will always take precedence but I will be able to reply to threads several times a week. Triggers: (REDACTED)

IN CHARACTER: BASICS

Full name: Amanda “Mandy” Silverman Age (DD/MM/YYY): Thirty (02/03/1966) - Pisces (Sun), Virgo (Rising), Cancer (Moon) Gender: Cisgender female Pronouns: She/her Sexuality: Homosexual homoromantic Occupation: Adult Education Coordinator Connection to Victim: Mandy did not know the Goode family. She knew of them in the way all newcomers to Devil’s Knot are known: through rumor and glimpses in the Piggly Wiggly parking lot. Mandy had little to do with Linda; she’d seen David and Beth at school, when she’d gone in to meet Mary after work; but she’d never met Brian at all. Alibi: Mandy was at home that Saturday working on a craft project. She ran out of glue at around three, then walked into town to go to the craft store, where she spent a few dollars too many on a crocheting kit. She decided to pick up some coffee and doughnuts then walked back home, where she stayed for the rest of the day.  Faceclaim: Elizabeth Olsen

WRITING SAMPLE

 This is a self para written for the Mandy in 1984.

The Datsun.

It was such a shit little car. Really, it was. Sandy’s miscellaneous paraphernalia littered the dashboard. Her dad’s manuals and work shit stuffed beneath the front seats. Pete had stamped grubby hands all over the back windows - people asked them all the time if they had a dog. “No,” Mandy replied grimly, hoisting Pete up on one hip. “Just a kid.” The motor turned over more often than she could count, which would put her father, ever the optimist, into an agitated but vaguely amused mood. Him, hunched over the wheel, grinding the key, revving the engine, If I… could just... Then, Sandy, cranky and likely hungover, snapping from the passenger side: I told you we needed it serviced! They had about a thousand tapes in the center console, most of them in the wrong cases, with a mix that spanned from Bob Dylan to Pete’s ABC children’s songs. Them, zooming along a damp highway, rain splattering the glass, her dad cheerfully singing, The wheels on the bus go ‘round and ‘round! as Pete laughed in delight. Mandy tries to forget that she’d eventually lose her temper and shout, Can we turn this stupid shit off? as her mother mumbled, Amen, behind enormous sunglasses and a gas station Slurpee.

The Datsun, which was rotting away at the police station right this second. Mandy hasn’t asked when they’ll get it back. It’s evidence, that’s it. She has her bike or her skates and Sandy doesn’t leave the house unless she has a ride (Aisha pulling up front and blasting the horn; Sandy, clattering around gathering her things, muttering, Where’s my goddamn…). Their family car is nothing more than a shell, a marker in the Pete and Phillip Silverman’s trail to murder. Kind of like a pit stop. Wrappers marked with imaginary blood stains littering the cab floor. That clean-sour smell of nervous sweat. Her Dad was always a sweater, mopping his brow and fanning himself, Jeez, it’s hot today. Mandy kind of loved that about him. How when she was looking for him in a crowd, she just had to search for the slightly damp white button-down, the back of his nearly-balding head. His hair was soft, like down, and Pete’s was too. Two twin sandy blonde heads sitting in front of the television, Pete curled into his father’s side, Phillip slowly stroking back those baby-shampoo-soft curls.

So, yeah. The Datsun. Scene of family road trips and midnight grocery store emergencies. A wreck that managed to limp from point A to B, with her dad faithfully in the front, eager to drive her to friends’ houses or cheer practice or a competition two towns over. She still thinks about winding the windows down as far as they could go when they were on the highway. Her dad would look over, catch her eye, and grin in a way that made her think of him as a teenager, a young man, that cheerful abandon of youth that was infectious as a whisper, goose-bumps prickling her arms.

“Shall we see how fast this baby can go?” He’d yell, and Mandy would laugh and laugh: “Go, Dad, go!”

ANYTHING ELSE?

Here is my Pinterest board for Mandy (featuring ‘84 and ‘96 boards, because I’m that kind of person), and her account can be found here.

HEADCANONS

Mandy works at the Community Centre as an Adult Education Coordinator. Which is just a fancy way of saying she organises craft classes for senior citizens. Seriously. Mandy picked up the job mainly to get Sandy off her back. After commuting to Lansing to attend community college, her decision to drop out and live and work in Devil’s Knot was met, unsurprisingly, with a pointedly raised eyebrow and a loud slurp from a glass of wine. And Mandy knew, she just damn knew, that if she stuck around her childhood home any longer, she and Sandy would end up killing each other. The job isn’t taxing: she works a few days a week, has a desk up on the mayor’s floor in the Community Centre, and spends way too much time putting flyers together for their new pasta making courses or adult literacy classes. The administration is what really bothers her, because the students are lovely. Little old ladies she’s known for years; grandfathers who remember her father back in the day. Best of all, they like her. Mandy wouldn’t consider herself a charismatic person, but she is a patient one. She’ll listen to a grandmother’s story a thousand times, nodding in the right places, exclaiming, asking questions. She’s gentle. Around other people it can be a slightly different story. She’s not clipped, exactly, nor is she rude. But she is shy, and Mandy is naturally suspicious. When people stop her to talk, she hesitates. It would be too much to link that back to ‘84, although there’s little doubt that that October and the months that followed succeeded in severing her trust in adult figures for life. No, Mandy prefers to keep to herself, to the people she knows. It’s safer that way; controllable.

Mandy loves movies -- always has. Bobby, Mandy, and Perry always went on about music, talking rapturously about guitar solos and funky beats, all while Mandy pretended to grimace and trade teasing looks with Jenny and Mike. But movies. Mandy’s favourite genre is horror. Surprising, maybe, but she can’t get enough. Sci-fi is her second favourite. Her ritual is to go down to the Videoport on a Friday afternoon and stock up for the weekend. She trails down the aisles, fingers skating over the titles, looking for some weird German expressionist thing or a summer blockbuster she can zone out to. Mandy would hardly consider herself a connoisseur, but she has an encyclopedic knowledge for actors and actresses, and can name their filmography from memory just by looking at them. It’s like, one of her only talents.

Mandy enjoys cooking. She mainly enjoys cooking for Mary, who will always, without fail, praise her skills until Mandy’s rolling her eyes and begging her to stop. Even if it’s crap (which it is a lot of the time; God knows Sandy never taught her to cook; this was all the result of afternoon cable and Reader’s Digest), Mary will come up and hug her from behind, kissing the side of her neck, suffusing Mandy in warmth and her spicy perfume. That was so good. You’re so good to me. Doing things for people is Mandy’s way of showing she loves them. It doesn’t matter what it is -- laundry, vacuuming, cooking -- she’ll find herself doing things automatically. It’s a little funny that she’s turned into a housewife ever since moving out with Mary, but it’s also really damn nice. Mandy looks after their small apartment so tenderly. Watering the plants on the windowsill, buying kitsch ornaments from the thrift store, airing out their cramped bedroom in the spring sunlight. Much of Mandy’s life revolves around domestic duties. She picks up the mail, pays bills, goes grocery shopping. Mary comes too, of course, but doing things together in public can get difficult when all Mandy wants to do is kiss her deeply in the fruit and vegetable section. Mary’s full-time job is also demanding, and Mandy only works a few days a week (despite what you may believe, there are not that many adult education classes to organise; the biggest scandal was when they introduced a salsa class and everyone collectively lost their minds). Maybe, in some way, it’s Mandy’s way of holding up her end of their relationship. And maybe, in a deeper, smaller way, it’s also an excuse. If she’s busy, how can she possibly go back to college? Who’ll make apple crumble and fold the socks? Huh? The pixies? If this makes Mandy sound territorial, it’s because she is. She clings to these chores because it’s far easier than thinking about the alternative, which is to get off her ass and actually make something of her life. She’s thirty years old. Nearly thirty one. And she’s got absolutely nothing to show for it. That hurts more than anything. Maybe that hurts most of all.

Mandy is a lesbian. She knew. Even when she was a teenager, she sort of knew. She and Mike started dating when they were thirteen and just... kept going. Certain things seemed inevitable: prom, college, maybe even marriage. It was so simple to imagine her life with Mike, whose family, the Hawkers, were best friends with her parents; they’d all been born months apart; they were raised together. Most of Mandy’s childhood memories involve Mike and Mary, Jenny. They tumbled around together like puppies, climbing trees and having sleepovers. Then they started to grow up, and Mandy and Mike got together, and the atmosphere shifted a little. Mandy liked Mike. She did. Maybe she loved him, in a way. But it was so, so platonic, and the way she felt when she looked at Mary was anything but. Mary used to scare her; still does, sometimes. She was a force of nature and Mandy was the eye of the storm. Looking back, the signs were obvious, but then again, they always are.

Mandy used to dress the way people expected her to dress. T-shirts and jeans, bleached white sneakers and cheer uniforms. Not feminine enough to please Jenny, who’d wrinkle her nose and fondly say, “Mandy, are you kidding? You cannot wear that,” and not masculine enough for her dad, who’d hand her wrenches as he worked on the Cadillac on weekends, shooting sidelong glances at her squad jumper, mumbling, “You’ll get grease all over you, honey.” Scrunchies and high ponytails. Pale pink jackets and a signet ring Mike gave her when they were fourteen. Just enough to be acceptable; to be palatable. To blend in, fade away, be nothing at all. These days it’s the opposite: Mandy dresses like an amorphous blob. In fact, she’d rather people hazard a guess at what she really looks like underneath her oversized flannel shirts and huge boots. The more clothing she has on, the more protected she feels. Layers upon layers. Band shirts worn soft with too many washes; jeans more grey than black. She still has her pink jacket from high school (Mary hung it up in their wardrobe and shrugged when Mandy found it, saying, “You always looked cute, and I’m a sucker. So sue me.”) Mandy pulls her hair up and away from her face; she doesn’t wear make-up. Still has the signet ring, though. She’s a sentimental doofus, she knows.

Mandy loves arts and crafts. Pottery, weaving, knitting; painting, sketching, cooking. These are things that bring her peace, that quieten her inner world. Growing up, she wasn’t creative in the slightest. Mandy was decidedly pedestrian: the most creative thing she ever did was design banners for the cheer squad or doodle in the margins of her school notebooks. But after Pete was returned, she needed something, anything, to stifle the panic static in her brain. Countless nights were spent sitting on the couch in front of the television, Pete curled into her side, her doing finger knitting or making a collage, eyes darting between her project and the cartoon onscreen. Over the years she’s gotten better -- last winter she managed to knit Mary a hideous scarf -- but her hobbies were never pursued in the same vein as her other achievements. Mandy still remembers practicing for cheer for hours in the cold, or studying in her room until midnight, eyes dry and head aching, quietly panicking about a test the next day. Everything she did, she did obsessively. These days, Mandy just wants to be still. Their apartment is stuffed with half finished craft projects: stacks of coloured paper, jars of beads, wool in miscellaneous piles, flowers drying on the windowsill. Sometimes Mary will come home to find her sitting cross-legged at the kitchen table, a pot of sauce bubbling on the stove, Stevie Nicks in the background, Mandy carefully cutting out prints for her art journal. She started journaling when she was a teenager, mainly to help with her father’s murder and the stress of the subsequent trial, but it’s a habit that has followed her happily into adulthood. Mandy would be lost without her projects, her art. It’s a channel for everything she feels; it clarifies her. And it’s never undertaken with any attempt at perfection. Mandy’s learning, slowly, to let go of unattainable ideas. Life is messy. She’s trying to accept that about the world, herself.

Mandy failed community college. Well, it felt like she failed. In reality, she dropped out. There were only so many classes about psych and childhood trauma that she could take (and ironic, right? That she studied psych? Mandy remembers the day she flicked through the brochure to pick her classes, ticking boxes on the vague notion she’d specialise in children, maybe, in kids who’d been taken or abandoned, and help them find their childhood again). The people were too much. Tons of people like her -- great in high school, but not good enough for a decent college out of state -- and older people too, people who reminded her of her dad (not that he’d gone to college; he used to joke that that was all above his pay grade, No, no, I’m happy where I am! Although Mandy knew how avidly he poured over science magazines, and how impressed he was with Apple and that computer stuff. Maybe in another world he would have done something else, been someone great. Maybe it runs in the family). Mandy felt boring in turning down invitations to parties or even drinks down the campus bar. She’d cite anything -- Pete’s homework, the long drive home, dinner waiting -- and soon that got old. She felt old. Like she’d skipped the fun part of her twenties and jumped right into middle age. It didn’t help that everything after ‘84 melted her brain into goop. The minute Mandy received her final marks from school, she shoved the paperwork back into the envelope and hid it with her dad’s old things. The word failure pounded in her head. How did it happen? How could she have gone from mathletes and cheer to barely scraping by? To holding on by a thread? And why? Why did it all affect her so much; why was she such a damn baby about everything? Pete was back safe. That should have been enough, right? But his return didn’t come with everything. Somewhere between Pete disappearing and that Christmas, Mandy cut herself loose. Swapped SAT prep for making spaghetti for her returned little brother. Watching reruns on TV until it was way too late, tucking him into bed. Some nights she didn’t want to leave him, so she put out a sleeping bag on the floor by his bed between him and the door. Just in case. Mandy always wanted to go to Oberlin for one reason: it was far away from Devil’s Knot (and, okay, she liked the name). Ambition was a thing she wore because it fit, not because she liked it. Watching her dad’s face light up when she showed him her grades was reason enough to try hard; and studying with Bobby made her feel light, if only for a little while, them laughing and whispering about D&D campaigns, teasing each other like siblings. Being smart felt good, even if it didn’t come wholly naturally, and Mandy worked damn hard to keep it up. Giving it away should have been freeing. Instead, Mandy knows she disappointed everyone. She’s just another person who raced to the state line only to stop dead, toes at the edge, and feel fear prick the back of her neck.