#sounds like a conversation we would actually have

[the-fab-fox]

This is so true. I recently saw a recipe for a really healthy meal on a recipe blog. I clicked the author's name and found my way to their actual domained website. In their about, I found the email. I have emailed them asking if there was a way to do the recipe but in a crockpot due to the pretty unsafe environment I live in—due to the skuzzy way my roommate/Subletter acts, I don't feel safe using the kitchen. I have not received an answer but from my experience sending out emails to people one would not generally consider, I know one of two things will happen. They will simply not respond (that is to say ignore or disregard my email) or they will answer and let me know if it can be done or let me know they don't have the time or energy to offer that solution. And these two options aren't bad at all. There's no consequence.

So even if they *don't* answer, what's the problem with asking when the worst outcome is simply no answer. You're literally losing nothing no matter the outcome, and more times than you think you're gaining something.

A few more examples on this:

I'm very much a networker. I am a people person and really good at striking up random conversations with people. Been that way my whole life. I just love interacting and helping people. (I'm a customer service professional of 20 years if that says anything).

I also am pretty intermediate with computers and very good at writing resumes and cover letters for job resumes and things like that. A lot of that comes from the fact that when I was younger, if I wanted something that could only come from a specific person/company/entity/etc, I would search and research until I found the contact needed.

Sometimes I'd be pleasantly surprised, sometimes not. But I never lost anything by trying.

A few times I was pleasantly surprised:

I was/am really into Criminal Minds as a TV show. Got into it in my 20s. It's become a comfort show (as weird as that is for a show about a fictionalized Behavioral Analysis Unit in the FBI). I was thinking... What would it take to be a BAU agent. It's probably nothing like the show so what's it like really. So I went on USAjobs.gov to look into it. Found contact for FBI. Emailed with a well edited and professional email (yes, this is absolutely important if you want to be taken seriously—if anyone would like me to draft up an example of what that could look like in a specific scenario, I'm happy to help!) as well as I could at the age I was at (basically, write it as well written and professional as you know how at where you're at now—don't try to "sound" professional and use big words. Just write as you but more formal). Lo and behold, I got my answer and it was quite thorough and they even warned me that the team as is seen on the show is very over glorified and the BAU mostly consults from afar and very rarely goes into the field. Lol. But you still have to pass the entrance exams which include physical.

2nd time, around the same time. I was a member of a Matthew Gray Gubler (Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds) fan blog on Live journal. (Really aging yourself, here, Finley 🤣) Anyway. There was a movie we heard of that MGG would be in but no one knew if it was true or really happening or if the project was still in the works or had been stalled. I did a Google search, found the movies official page, found a contact email or form. I was consise in my subject line and consise in my email (my thinking was entertainment people are gonna be hella busy so put my inquiry in as little but still respectful and professional words as possible. I stated who I was, my experience leading to my question (in this case I said something along the lines of 'my name is Finley Beckett and I'm a member of a Mattew Gray Gubler fan blog. The group of us have been looking forward to the movie that if coming out but we haven't heard anything about it or whether it's still happening or not. I was hoping that you might be able to shine some light on this. Also, due to the questionable relience of the internet these days, would it be at all possible to send some kind of proof that you are indeed the people behind the movie. I won't share with the group, of course, but that way I can with 100% confidence, inform them of your response). And two or so days later I got an email from the director of the movie himself (and keep in mind this was a lower budget film and pretty sure straight to DVD so obviously this would likely not work with someone like say George Lucas or Christopher Nolan or Stephen Spielberg) emailed me back and gave me not only what has been happening as far as movie production but as well as a few production stills that included MGG within them.

I've gotten to correspond with two of my favorite novelists due to finding their websites and through those, their contacts. (Business inquiry emails count as contacts). And one of them, probably my favorite author of all time (Tamora Pierce) even looked over some of my writing at the time and gave me some really great feedback. To this day I cherish this moment even if I've lost the email to time.

Ultimately, the biggest advice I can give on this sort of thing is best summed up in this quote:

"You miss one hundred percent of the shots you don't take. Even though there is only a 1-5% probably of scoring."

— Wayne Gretzky (not Michael Scott 🤣)

And I left in the second part because it confirms what I've said. Like yes, there's only a 1-5% chance of getting something out of reaching out, especially in this day and age.

That said, if you never try, that percentage stays at 0%. Full stop.

You're already at 0%, so it would make more sense if you tried because even if you fail, you're already at 0% so you've literally got nothing to lose, right?

IDK if any of this will help but I wanted to try just the same. (See what I did there? 😉)

[yumeka-sxf]

Relatively short new chapter today, but still a lot to unpack! While we didn't get a ton of Melinda lore yet, as the majority of the chapter was Loid saying things to try and win her over, I found it interesting to see insight into one of his "fake" therapy sessions.

As usual with all the conversations he has with people in his "Loid Forger" persona, if the topic gets heavy, he'll end up saying things that are, what I believe, what he truly feels. This is usually preceded by him dropping the forced smile and showing a glimpse of a more thoughtful expression, for example, in the below panel when Melinda comments on how strong and "lively" she thinks Loid and Yor are. He then goes on to tell her that there's no crime or shame in not being strong enough.

While it is debatable whether he's being genuine here or not, I can't help but be reminded of similar conversations he's had with Yor in the past...way back in chapter 14 where he told her how tiring it can be to put up a facade all the time. And then much later in chapter 86 where she tells him, in her own way, that he doesn't have to be strong and "perfect" all the time.

I'm probably reading too much into it, but it's just something that came to mind 😅 But on the topic of Melinda saying they're "lively," the word she uses in the Japanese version in 健全な ("kanzenna") which is more like "healthy, sound, stable, etc" (the first kanji is "healthy/strong," and the second is "whole/all.") So yeah, a slightly different nuance than "lively."

I also smiled when I saw that Loid still calls Yor "Yor-san" in his thoughts ❤️

It wouldn't be a SxF chapter with at least a subtle hint at something "darker" going on or has gone on...in this case, we hear a bit of Melinda's thoughts about the post-war time.

But the big shocker was obviously the final page where she claims that Donovan is an alien. I checked the Japanese version to make sure, and she does indeed use the term 宇宙人 ("uchuujin"), which is "alien" in the traditional sense.

Upcoming plot twist...this previous Endo art for short mission 10 will turn out to be canon 🤣

Joking aside, I don't think that Donovan is literally an alien, as mixing a truly sci-fi element like that into the world of SxF would be too jarring. So probably something that Donovan has done made Melinda come to that conclusion. As for what it is about him that that would make her think this is debatable - his involvement in science experiments/Project Apple? If he actually has the ability to read minds, is this the explanation she's come up? Or maybe he wants her to think this for some reason? There's also a theory that she doesn't actually believe he's an alien and is only saying it to test Loid in some way. Whatever the reason is, we'll have to wait until next time for more answers!

[cherryswisherz]

GLORIA [verse one]

♱ CONTAINS: kissing and cursing das it

♱ NIYAHSPEAKS: PAZZI MINI SERIES ONNA HOE okay so like the vision is pazzi reminiscing on memories of their relationship. shoutout anon for the request

♱ ♱ ♱ ♱

❝i met her when i was off the porch as a teenager, she said one day i would right my wrongs and see paper❞

“BUECKERS!” Micah yells my name as I approach the benches near the basketball court. 

I’m 15 minutes late but everyone should be used to that by now. By now, being late is my trademark so none of my friends look bothered. In fact, almost everyone is smiling as they dap me up and say hello. 

Everyone except the only person in the group that I hadn’t seen before. Some girl with bug eyes. 

Okay, so they aren’t big eyes. But they are big, brown eyes that look at me like she wants nothing more than my head on the chopping block. 

“Yo, who’s this?” I nod my head towards the girl who’s shooting me the literal death glare. 

“This is Azzi.” Micah slings an arm around Azzi's shoulder and she shrugs him off with a huff. “She’s my cousin. She just moved here.”

“Can she hoop?” I ask. 

“She’s standing right here and she would appreciate it if you didn’t speak about her like she wasn’t.” Azzi snatches the ball from my hands and begins walking to the court. “And I thought the movie was White Men Can’t Jump?”

I have no choice but to laugh at her insinuation. Meeting her on the court, I snatch my ball back. “It’s a good thing I’m a woman then, huh?” I say.

“Oh? You got game white girl?”

“Like you’ve never seen before.” 

“Show me then.”

“Check.” 

And the game began.

❝we started out young, lookin' for some identity, made a thousand mistakes, but never did we lack chemistry❞

“PAIGE!” Azzi’s chasing after me. “Will you just wait for a a fucking second?”

Every fiber of my being is telling me to keep walking and never stop, but we’re in a hotel for state and she’s screaming my name. If someone complains, coach is gonna kill me. 

I stop walking and shut my eyes, taking a deep breath. 

Relax, Bueckers.

I pivot on my foot and stare at the girl in front of me.

If I wasn’t such a pussy, I’d tell her how beautiful she is. With her frizzy french braids and her tie-dye t-shirt and her St. Patricks Day socks. But complimenting her would only make this whole situation even more awkward, and if it gets any more awkward I might off myself. 

So, instead of telling Azzi everything I’ve wanted to tell her since I’d met her, I speed walk back to our room grabbing her arm in the process. 

I’ve never been one for serious conversations and Azzi and I’s friendship isn’t necessarily one where we have too many of them. But tonight, I thought I saw something. 

Something in her eyes said, ‘it isn’t just you.’ 

God, I couldn’t have been any more wrong.

Shutting the door, I turn to her and make it a point to never take my eyes off the lamp behind her. 

“I’m sorry.”

She furrows her eyebrows and cocks her head a little to the side. “You’re sorry?” she sounds confused, which is confusing me. 

If she doesn’t want an apology then what the fuck does she want?

“Yes?”

“For what?”

For kissing you. For reading this whole thing wrong. For ruining our friendship and possibly losing us State because there’s no fucking way I’m gonna be able to focus tomorrow.

“For everything.”

All of a sudden, she’s not across the room for me anymore. She’s right in front of me, smacking me hard on the back of my head.

“OW!” I duck my head and slid under her raised arm. “What the fuck, Azzi?”

“You’re so stupid!” She shouts.

“How the fuck am I stupid for apologizing to you?”

We’re both yelling at each other, which to anyone else, may seem like a bad thing. But Azzi and I get our best communication done during our screaming matches. 

Don’t ask me why… It just is what it is.

“Because I don’t want a fucking apology, Paige!”

“Well, the fuck do you want then?”

“YOU!”

Record. Scratch.

“What?” I’m not yelling anymore. I’m actually speaking so low that I almost don’t hear myself. “What did you say?”

“I was trying to tell you, but you kep-”

I cut her off, “Say it again, Azzi.”

She grins like the Cheshire cat, “I want you.”

“What does that mean, though?”

“Holy fuck, you’re actually dumb.” She rolls her eyes, “I like you too, Paige.”

I’ve waited to hear that for almost a year. 

A year of staring when she isn’t looking. A year of moments that I wondered if she held as close to her as I did. A year of wanting her- no, needing her in ways that seem too mature for a 17 year old girl.

A part of me thinks she’s joking. Or she’s just trying to make me feel better…

I think about the kiss we shared 2 minutes ago. Her soft lips on mine, her in my lap on the bed next to me, grinding on my lap, driving me insane. 

I think of her scrambling off me and saying stop and the guilt that has sat on my chest since.

“But-” The sentence dies in my mouth and tears well in my eyes, “But when we kissed-” I point at her “You said stop.”

Azzi’s arms fly up before plopping back to her side, “Because I don’t wanna fuck you the night before the state championship!”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Azzi mocks me, “If you would have just waited 30 seconds, I would have told you that.”

Azzi Fudd likes me back. The girl I’ve been feining for, likes me back.

Suddenly, I’m aware of the chance to be a jackass, and of course, I have to take it.

I walk over to her and nudge her shoulder, “You liikkkee meeee.” I sing

She laughs and shoves me away, “Get away from me.”

“You liiikkke meeee and you liked when I kissed yooouuuu”

She crawls back in bed and uses the comforter to hide her smile, “Go to bed, Paige.”

I crawl in bed, on top of her and kiss all over her face, relishing in the fact that Azzi fucking Fudd likes me back.

❝i was in love with you, didn't know what it was with you, kiss you in back of the class just to get a buzz with you❞

“Ms. Bueckers.” Ms. Jackson says. “Put your phone up, before it becomes my phone.”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Jackson.” I flash her a grin and slide my phone into my pocket. I don’t even need to me on my phone anymore anyway. 

Azzi and I’s plan is already set. 

My eyes never leave the clock. Counting the seconds until they become a minute, until eventually a minute begins five. 

My hand shoots in the air. “Can I go see my counselor?”

Ms. Jackson never turns from the board, her back still to the class as she groans before saying, “Get out, Paige.” 

“Love you too, Ms. Jackson.” I smile and dip out of the classroom, making my way across campus to the gym.

“Finally.” Azzi groans, ball already in hand. “How do you make the plans and still come late?”

“Shut up,” I throw my bag down and walk over to her. ‘Gimme kiss.” 

She ducks away from me, laughing, “I thought we were gonna play one-on-one?”

“We were.” I nod my head, “But you look so good,” I smile and grab her hips, pulling her closer. 

She gives me a peck and tries to pull away, but a peck is never enough, so I chase her lips and she drops the ball, wrapping her arms around my neck. 

In a few months I’m gonna graduate and go to UCONN and she’s still gonna be here. We’re gonna be almost 2,000 miles apart, and I don’t know how I’m gonna survive without her but I’m not gonna think about it right now. 

Right now, I’m gonna do everything but fuck my girlfriend in the middle of my high school's gym.

♱TAGLIST @patscorner @riyahtheballer @mattslolita @thaatdigitaldiary @janaelalfysblunt @kmoneymartini @sageworld

@darkskinchristiandiorpostergirl @justliketoreadsowhat @pb524830 @pb524830 @dnftpn @sierrale8ne @numberonepartyanth3m

@pppaaiiiggggeeeeee @uwupaige @paigeluvvr @colorthecosmos444 @authentic-girl03 @makethemhoesmad @lovegalor333 @mrsarnold

@sellasstories @heart4caitlin @avvwritesstufff @st4rrzynight @bueckersp @paxaz535 @thelightknight21 @paxaz535

@darlindayss @his-loss @dreatopia

[svenzio]

cho hyunju as your girlfriend

« non-binary reader » « other acc: @antinitoniny »

« not proofread, lots of mistakes & errors »

prompts w imagines after the cut, lmk ur thoughts !

softspoken gf!hyunjuㅡ whether it's during a casual conversation or an argument, you always feel huge amounts of affection & warmth in hyunju's voice

ㅡ after an unspecified misunderstanding

"can we talk?" hyunju softly knocked on an opened door to get your attention, leaning on the doorframe.

"i'm sorry, i promise i didn't mean toㅡ" you were so close to crying while trying to explain til hyunju interrupts you

"i understand" hyunju smiled, sitting in front of you. she placed her hand on top of yours.

"i didn't mean to invalidate your emotions earlier, i was just confused. i'm sorry. i know that you just want the best for me" hyunju talked so softly that one would think that she's putting a baby to sleep.

"but stillㅡ" you attempted to not justify your actions

"it's okay, i promise" hyunju said, giving an assuring smile. she cups your cheek, placing a peck on it.

hyunju's crazy good with eye contact. she always manages to make you flustered even during casual conversations. she actually just makes sure to listen well

it's a normal saturday afternoon for you & your girlfriend. for this weekend, you're in charge of planning & your plan is to stay at home and do nothing. when hyunju heard about the plan, she can't stop laughing at it because her plans have always been outdoors & active.

now, you're sitting on the couch with hyunju, talking about your week. you guys made it a habit to catch up after a busy week.

"yeah then like cath yelled at him and i was likeㅡ DESERVE!! as she should" you said with all of your emotions, eyes focused on the television 'coz you're trying to find a show to watch later.

"HAHAHAHAHA then?" hyunju responded enthusiastically. it's always fun to tell stories when hyunju's present.

you reached out for the chips and sat back, planning to focus on telling your story as you look at hyunju.

"cath basically told him to fuck off and that g-guy ha-hasㅡ oh my god! stop staring at me" you panicked, unable to keep a smile in.

confused hyunju: "huh?"

"nevermind umㅡ yeah soㅡ" you looked back at hyunju only for her to look so focused on you. you had to internally meditate before continuing, meeting hyunju's eyes.

"um yea, the guy, his name's mick, he gaslighted cath right in front of oㅡ oh fuck i can't" at least you tried for five seconds.

it's not that you're weak with eye contact, hyunju's eyes just sparkle as if they're adoring you right in front of youㅡ you get it? yea. you can hear that tiktok sound "blah blah blah, proper name, place name, backstory stuff"

"why?" hyunju laughs, knowing exactly what's happening but wanted to tease you about it anyway

"why are you staring at me like that?" you asked

"like what?" hyunju teases

"like you wanna shut me up with a damn kiss or something"

"i feel like that's what you want & it has nothing to do with my stare" hyunju laughs

"NUH UH UR EYES ARE PRACTICALLY STATING A 300-WORD POEM FOR ME"

hyunju LOVES forehead kisses. she doesn't know that but you've noticed that she kisses your forehead like five times in one hour

"good job, my love" hyunju kisses your forehead.

"am i gonna get a kiss whenever i do a good job?" you asked, smiling. hyunju smiled, patting your head.

"hmm... sure" hyunju said, hugging you from the back as you continue figuring out the manual instructions for the cabinet. you know damn well that hyunju can do that for you in 20mins but you wanted to try by yourself anyway.

"does this go here?" you asked yourself, placing a screw on a hole.

"no, baby. it's for the handles" hyunju softly corrected you, snuggling on the crook of your neck.

"so no kisses for me since i got it wrong?" you pouted

"a kiss for trying" hyunju smiles, kissing your forehead.

hyunju who never gets jealous but enjoys how you overexplain because you don't want to make her overthink unintentionally

on your way home, you & hyunju decided that it'll be nice to take a 30min walk at night since the weather's pretty nice. you talked about various of things, noticed different things, started a 10min worth of conversation from just a passerby's shoesㅡ it was a great evening for the both of you.

until, you passed by a club. unexpectedly, you saw your high school friends outside. you haven't seen them in years which is why you were so excited that you immediately ran and hugged them.

the conversation between you & your two friends went on for 10 minutes. of course, you also introduced hyunju to them & bragged about her.

during the next couple of minutes, the walk was filled with silence. it was the complete opposite of the energy that you guys had before meeting your friends.

a lot of things went inside your head. you can't read hyunju at all. is she tired? but she still initiates conversations even when she's tired. is she mad? she would've told you if she is. is she...

you stopped in your tracks which made hyunju stop as well. hyunju looked at you quietly, wondering why you suddenly stopped when you're four blocks away from home.

"are you jealous?" was the conclusion that you made.

hyunju managed to keep her smile inside because she's curious about how this situation will escalate.

"i'm not" hyunju said with a straight face

you were stressed, you didn't know what to do, you don't know what's running inside her mind so you're clueless abt how you're gonna assure her.

"those were just my classmates from high schoolㅡ we're not even following each other on social media iㅡ we'reㅡ i hated everyone during high school" you rapped, panicking.

you're afraid. you don't want to unintentionally hurt hyunju in any way.

hyunju smiles "you don't have to explain" she says

"huh? oh my god do you not trust me" you cried out dramatically which made hyunju chuckle

"i trust you. that's why you don't have to explain" hyunju said, holding your hand.

"i love you so much & i have the same amount of trust on you so you don't have to worry" she said

"then why are you so quiet?" you pouted, leaning your body on her as you guys walk.

"i thought you're tired & wanted to enjoy the scenery." oh right, you're the type to make your own little bubble whenever your social battery runs out.

"i thought you were mad" you said

"...me? when was i ever mad?"

"exactly. i thought tonight's the first time"

"you'd never see the first time" hyunju smiles.

hyunju hates it when other people touch her hair but she LOVES it when you experiment with different hairstyles w her hair

"baby, a package came for you" hyunju said, entering the room. you jumped out of the bed & immediately opened the package. hyunju stood behind you, resting her head on your shoulder as you open your package.

"TADAAA" you excitedly said, showing her the pastel clips & ties that you ordered.

"that'll look fantastic on you, love" hyunju genuinely said

"it'll look a lot more fantastic on you" you said with a wide smile, facing her.

hyunju's confused face slowly turned into a smile. at this point, it's a monthly activity for the both of you to style each other's hair (or usually just hyunju's)

"any requests?" you asked, brushing hyunju's hair.

now, you're sitting on the couch while hyunju's on the floor, holding the boxes of clips.

"you do you. i just want a mix of black and pink clips" hyunju said as if she's talking to a hairstylist (roleplaying is ur thing too)

"alright, pretty lady"

bonus: hyunju having a whole ig highlights of the hairstyles you gave her.

hyunju who has a habit of unconsciously giving you her first & last bite of food

you brought hyunju with you at your friend's night out. your friends are also her friends so it doesn't really matter.

during meal, you're a lot more focused on talking with your friends than eating. on the other hand, hyunju's starting with her meal already.

hyunju tapped your shoulder lightly & fed you a spoonful of her food. you ate it without looking at her nor batting an eye as if it's a normal thing between the both of you.

since you weren't eating much due to the intense topic that you're having, hyunju's basically feeding you spoonfuls from time to time.

"baby" hyunju said, trying to take your attention

"i'm full, sweetie. thank you" you told her

"last one." hyunju smiles, showing you her last spoonful of food.

"i feel like these two got an invisible private bubble with just the two of them" your friend told the other

"that bubble is probably heart-shaped" the other responded

"may this love find me" your friend says (basically begging the heavens)

hyunju's the BEST when it comes to comforting you. probably also bcs she read a lot of books to help you manage your emotions

you're curled up on the couch, staring at the wall. hyun-ju walks in, her steps were soft but deliberate, carrying a steaming mug of tea. she places it on the coffee table in front of u.

“hey..i made you chamomile. don’t argue, just drink it. i know you didn’t have lunch today.”

u didn't respond, but your eyes flicker briefly to the mug before dropping back to their lap. hyunju sits down beside u, keeping enough space to not feel imposing.

"you know, it’s okay to take time for yourself. but.." she pauses, her tone softening “locking yourself away like this isn’t helping. I can see it in your eyes—you’re not resting, you’re just… running.”

"i don’t know how to face anyone right now. It’s like… I’m not enough. No matter what I do, it’s never enough.” your voice is barely above a whisper.

hyunju leans forward, thinking.

"i read something a while ago. about how we talk to ourselves.” she said, glancing at you.

"if a friend came to you saying what you just said, would you tell them they’re not enough?” she asked

you shake your head, lips pressed together.

"exactly. so why is it okay to talk to yourself like that? why are you doing that to yourself? you don't deserve that" hyunju said, your tears threatening to fall but you didn't respond.

"you’re allowed to feel lost, but don’t let those thoughts win. they don’t know you like I do.” hyunju continued, smiling warmly at you.

"you make it sound so easy…” you said, tears pooling in your eyes.

hyunju smiles gently, reaching over to place a hand on yours.

"it's not. it'll be a rough path & it surely will be filled with tears and crazy evenings" hyunju said, sighing

"but you won't be facing them alone. i'm here, and I’m not going anywhere. so… drink your tea, and let me stay in your corner. Okay?” hyunju smiled, handing you the mug. as you take it, hyunju wraps her arms around you, making you feel protected and warm.

right there, you knew that you'll be just fine.

hyunju who's so good w words & have a very unique perspective about things which makes your late night conversations amazing

the two of you are sitting on a park bench, watching people who's doing their midnight workout at the park.

“you know what’s funny about people? we think we’re so smart, but we act on instinct most of the time. all gut reactions, fear, and hope.” hyunju suddenly speaks.

“hope is an instinct?” you raised an eyebrow

“of course. it’s survival. you think a soldier keeps moving forward because they’re brave? no. they hope the next step gets them out alive. you think someone falls in love because they’re logical? no. they hope it won’t destroy them.” hyunju nods

“so, we’re just… running on hope and instincts?” you asked, actually thinking about it.

hyunju chuckles & nods, turning to look at you.

“yeah. and you know what? that’s not a bad thing. makes us unpredictable. makes us dangerous. and…”

“it makes us human.” hyunju proudly smiles, looking at the nightsky

“sometimes you sound like a philosopher.” you said, resting your head on her shoulder.

“don’t get used to it. i’m only this deep after midnight.”

the two of you sit there a little longer, hyun-ju’s words hanging in the air like the stars above—simple but impossibly vast.

active dates. hyunju's physically active (and in this case, you're not) but you always do your best to do her favorite activities w her.

you’re both halfway up a hiking trail, and you’re already out of breath. hyun-ju stops ahead, turning to look at you with a smirk.

“you good back there? or do i need to carry you?” hyun-ju asked, her grin teasing.

“you’d love that, wouldn’t you?” you said, panting as you tried to keep up.

“maybe,” she said, grinning wider. “but you’re doing fine. come on, just a little further. the view’s worth it.”

“the things i do for you,” you muttered, trudging up the trail.

hyun-ju was waiting for you at the top, holding out her hand. “and that’s why you’re my favorite. now, let me show you why this is mine.”

she pulled you up, and as you caught your breath, the view of the valley below left you speechless.

lazy dates, ofc. hyunju considers every moment w u a date. even staying on the bed for the whole day is a date for her

the two of you are tangled in a mess of blankets, the sunlight peeking through the curtains. hyun-ju is lying on her side, propped up on one elbow, watching you scroll through your phone.

“you know this counts as a date, right?” hyun-ju said, her voice soft but playful.

“lying here doing nothing?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“yep,” she said, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “as long as i’m with you, it’s a date. simple as that.”

you rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “you’re too easy to please, you know that?”

“maybe,” she said with a smirk, leaning in to rest her forehead against yours. “or maybe i just know how to enjoy the good stuff.”

you laughed, setting your phone aside and curling closer to her. lazy days had never felt this perfect.

protective hyunjuㅡ lowkey on army mode whenever the both of you are in a dark street. makes sure to remind you that she's capable of protecting you even if you don't expect her to.

the two of you are walking home late at night, the streetlights casting long shadows. hyun-ju is walking slightly ahead, her posture sharp and alert.

“you don’t have to keep looking over your shoulder,” you said, trying to lighten the mood.

“and you don’t have to worry, because i’m looking for both of us,” hyun-ju said, her eyes scanning the dimly lit street.

you sighed. “it’s not like anything’s going to happen.”

she glanced back at you, her expression steady but confident. “you don’t expect anything to happen. that’s why you have me.”

“you’re really pulling the ‘special forces’ card right now?” you teased.

“damn right i am,” she said, smirking but still alert. “i’ve got instincts, training, and enough muscle to make anyone regret trying something stupid. you’re safe with me. always.”

you smiled, slipping your hand into hers. “i know. thanks, captain.”

“don’t mention it,” she said, squeezing your hand gently. “but if anyone even looks at you wrong, they’re getting a lesson they won’t forget.”

doing hyunju's makeup! you love helping her w her makeup. whether yk a lot of things abt makeup or not, u just love seeing hyunju's happy smile whenever she finishes her look

hyun-ju sits cross-legged on the floor in front of you, a mirror propped up on the table and her makeup bag between you. you’re carefully applying a touch of eyeliner, your tongue sticking out in concentration.

“you’re taking this way too seriously,” hyun-ju said, her lips twitching into a smile.

“and you’re moving too much,” you said, gently tilting her chin back. “i’m trying to make you look flawless.”

“i already look flawless,” she teased, though her cheeks flushed slightly.

“yeah, yeah,” you said, rolling your eyes but smiling. “let me finish, miss ‘flawless.’”

when you finally pulled back to admire your work, hyun-ju turned to the mirror, her face lighting up.

“not bad,” she said, grinning as she checked her reflection. “you might actually put me out of a job.”

“i don’t know what i’m doing half the time,” you admitted, laughing. “but seeing you smile like that? worth it.”

hyun-ju looked at you, her grin softening into something warmer. “you’re the best, you know that?”

“obviously,” you said, smirking. “now, where’s my tip?”

she leaned in, planting a quick kiss on your cheek. “how’s that for a tip?”

“good enough,” you said, laughing as she grabbed her lipstick to finish the look.

hyunju who dries your hair after your late night shower. you can barely keep your eyes open so she asks little questions about your day to stop u from dozing off

you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, a towel wrapped around your shoulders. hyun-ju stands behind you, gently running a soft towel through your damp hair. your head keeps drooping forward, but she nudges you awake each time.

“don’t fall asleep on me,” hyun-ju said, her voice light but teasing. “you’ll wake up with a wet pillow, and then I’ll have to deal with your complaints.”

“m’not complaining,” you mumbled, eyes half-closed.

“uh-huh,” she said, smirking. “so, what did you eat today? anything that wasn’t instant noodles?”

“had a sandwich,” you muttered, voice barely above a whisper.

“a sandwich? impressive,” she said, ruffling your hair gently with the towel. “what kind of sandwich?”

“...the kind with bread,” you mumbled sleepily, earning a soft laugh from her.

“genius answer,” she said, shaking her head as she grabbed the hairdryer, switching it to a low setting. “you’re lucky you’re cute.”

the warmth from the dryer and her steady hands lulled you further, but she kept asking small questions—about your favorite part of the day, whether you saw anything interesting—until she finally shut the dryer off and kissed the top of your head.

“all done,” she said softly, her voice almost lulling you to sleep completely. “go on, lie down. i’ll be right here.”

of course, drying hyunju's hair too every morning is part of your routine.

hyun-ju sits on the edge of a chair, her hair still damp from her morning shower. you stand behind her with a towel, carefully running it through her dark strands. she leans back slightly, her eyes half-closed as she enjoys the moment.

“you don’t have to do this every day, you know,” hyun-ju said, her voice soft but amused.

“and yet, here i am,” you replied, gently squeezing water out of her hair. “besides, you’d just leave it wet and call it ‘air-drying.’”

“it’s efficient,” she said with a smirk, cracking one eye open to look at you.

“it’s lazy,” you corrected, grabbing the hairdryer. “sit still, or i’ll make it worse on purpose.”

she laughed quietly but stayed put, closing her eyes again as the warm air from the dryer brushed against her skin.

“you’re good at this,” she murmured. “if you ever get tired of your day job, you could make a killing as a hairstylist.”

“i’ll stick to this one client, thanks,” you said, smiling as you gently smoothed her hair down. “she’s picky but worth it.”

hyun-ju tilted her head back to look up at you, her grin soft. “you’re lucky i like you.”

“and you’re lucky i’m patient,” you teased, finishing with one last stroke of your fingers through her now-dry hair.

“perfect as always,” she said, standing up and pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before heading off. mornings didn’t start right without moments like this.

you love every morning with hyunju.

"you look amazing" you told hyunju, both of you are barely awake. waking up w hyunju every morning is what you consider a blessing. it's such a great way to start your day & you believe that a sight of her in the morning would make it impossible to ruin your day at work.

"but i just woke up?" hyunju laughed, hugging you.

"ethereal" you said, admiring her face.

hyunju got shy almost immediately, kissing your forehead. "i'll go make us some coffee" she said, sitting up.

"sounds good" you responded, drifting off to sleep once again. hyunju chuckled as she stepped out of the room.

you were sleeping soundly when you felt light taps on your shoulder & soft pats on your head.

"baby, i made breakfast" hyunju said, almost a whisper to not startle you.

"i love you" you responded, half-awake.

"i love you too so please get up, you're gonna be late" hyunju laughed at your state, kissing your shoulder.

you pulled her to the bed, unintentionally tickling each other. the room's soon filled w laughs for a solid five minutes.

"i love mornings with you" you said, caressing hyunju's cheeks

"i love my life with you" hyunju said, kissing the tip of your nose.

hyunju who was once afraid of public display of affection because of the weird stares from other ppl so you were always the one to initiate.

the two of you are walking through a crowded park, the early evening breeze carrying the hum of chatter and laughter. hyun-ju’s hands are stuffed into her jacket pockets, her shoulders slightly tense as she glances around.

you reached out, slipping your hand into hers without hesitation. “relax,” you said softly, giving her fingers a light squeeze.

hyun-ju hesitated for a moment, her eyes darting to a nearby couple, then back to you. “people are staring,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

“let them,” you said, smiling up at her. “we’re not doing anything wrong.”

she looked at you, her expression caught somewhere between apprehension and awe. “you make it look so easy.”

“that’s because it is,” you said, swinging your joined hands slightly. “besides, if they have time to stare, maybe they’re just jealous.”

hyun-ju’s lips quirked into a small smile, her shoulders relaxing as she laced her fingers more tightly with yours. “you really don’t care, do you?”

“not even a little,” you replied, leaning closer to bump her shoulder with yours. “and one day, you won’t either.”

she chuckled softly, her grip on your hand firm now. “with you around, maybe.”

the rest of the walk felt lighter, the world fading into the background as you led the way, her hand warm and steady in yours.

bonus, same prompt:

the two of you are sitting on a bench at a quiet bus stop late in the evening. hyun-ju keeps glancing at the couple across the street, who are laughing and holding hands, before quickly looking away. she fidgets with the hem of her jacket, avoiding your eyes.

you reached over and placed your hand over hers, stilling her nervous movements. “hey,” you said softly. “you’re thinking too much again.”

she let out a small sigh, her gaze still fixed on the pavement. “it’s just… people look at us differently. like we’re doing something strange.”

“who cares?” you said, giving her hand a squeeze. “we’re not doing anything wrong.”

hyun-ju hesitated, then finally looked at you. “but doesn’t it bother you? being seen as… not normal?”

you smiled, leaning closer until your shoulder brushed against hers. “we are normal. the world’s just slow at catching up.”

she blinked at you, her lips parting slightly, before a quiet laugh escaped her. “you really believe that?”

“absolutely,” you said, lacing your fingers through hers. “we’re normal, hyun-ju. and anyone who thinks otherwise? that’s their problem, not ours.”

hyun-ju’s smile grew wider, and this time, when a passerby glanced your way, she didn’t flinch. instead, she leaned closer to you, her hand firmly holding yours. “we’re normal,” she repeated, almost like a promise.

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Sugar & Spicy Books Chapter 1

Summary:  Y/N is an accomplished writer who is newly divorced, and out of fear of the unknown, moves back to her small hometown she swore she’d never come back to.  She comes across her best friend that never left, who helps her out of a tough spot.  Will old feelings arise?  Or is she just too big for such a small place now?

Warnings:  language, smut

“And with all that said, you are now officially divorced,” the judge announced.

Y/N sighed heavily, closing her eyes.  The relief that flooded through her made her feel like she was floating, her heart soaring at the freedom it felt.  She opened her eyes and smiled as she stood and hugged her divorce lawyer, then started gathering her things.

“I guess that’s it,” Raphael, her now ex-husband, said as he sidled up to her.

“That’s it,” Y/N nodded, barely sparing him a glance.

“So um…everything is set up for you at the house.  All my things are out, and I got your car detailed as a, you know, sign of no ill will–”

“Raf, it’s okay if we don’t speak.  I’d rather we never spoke again,” Y/N said, finally facing him.  They looked each other over one last time before Y/N gave him a small smile.  “Goodbye,” she nodded at him, then walked out of the courtroom.

***

New York City felt too big.  The house was too big.  The car was too big.  Y/N felt like she was shrinking inside herself as she walked the too-quiet rooms of the brownstone.  She and Raf had never had any children, although he had pushed her many times over the years, sometimes too far.  But Y/N had been focused on her writing career, and not having children had made the divorce so much easier.  

“Y/N Y/L/N?  Oh my god it’s really you!  Can I get an autograph?” A woman approached her in the supermarket, smiling widely and slightly jumping as she rushed up to Y/N.

“Oh, um, yes,” Y/N stammered, taking the notebook and pen the woman shoved in her face and signing it.

“Could I get a picture?  The girls in my book club won’t believe it!”

“Sure,” Y/N smiled tightly, then tried to look pleasant as the woman wrapped an arm around her and pulled her in too close, smiling up at the phone raised high in her hand.

“Oh thank you!”  

Y/N managed to slink away from the awkward conversation that was about to ensue and quickly finished her shopping before running back home.  Her career had been successful, earning the top spot three times on the New York Times Best Sellers list, as well as book tours, big sequel book deals, and she was even in talks for one of her first books to become a movie.  The books were what would be considered “spicy” or “dark romance.”  She had no experience in actually having any spicy or dark romance in her real life.  Raf had been extremely simple in the bedroom, and part of their divorce stemmed from his insecurity about her stories.  

Six weeks after her divorce she had had enough.  She sold the brownstone, everything of value in it, the fancy car, and bought the car of her dreams:  a 1967 Volkswagen Beetle.  It was something she had always wanted, but seemed impractical or Raf would always talk her out of it.  She loaded what little she had left into the little light blue car and headed to Woodstock, Vermont.

Y/N had grown up in Woodstock.  It was a very small but scenic town that thrived mostly on tourism because of its quaint, old America charm, and access to nearby hills that made for great snow sports.  When she was 18 she had earned a full ride scholarship to NYU and had run from it as fast as she could.  It was just too small, too stifling, but now as she was dealing with how big the world felt after her divorce, she ran back home in fear and trepidation of what to do next.  

As she reached the city limits she heard the Beetle make a strange puttering sound.  “Oh no, come on, B!” she groaned as the car started to shake and struggle.  “So much for ‘it’s in tip top condition,’” she griped, pulling off the main street in town toward the first mechanic shop she saw.  The Beetle sputtered to a stop and let out a high pitched whine as she turned off the engine.  She sighed and got out of the car, kicking the tire before heading towards the shop door.  A bell tinkled when she swung it open and she looked around at the shop’s front desk and waiting area.  It was small, utilitarian, and very tidy.  In the corner she was surprised to see a small play area for children that had a number of children’s books, a small table and chair, some coloring books and coloring pencils, and a little tea set on the table.

She smiled at the set up and walked over to the front desk.  There was no one there and she looked around until she saw a doorbell button on the side of the desk with a small note taped to the desk countertop that read, “Press for Service.”  Y/N pressed it and heard a doorbell ring noise from the shop behind the door beyond the desk.

“Coming!” she heard a male voice yell.

Y/N waited, looking around the room again until the door swung open.  “Hey there, sorry I was working on something, what can I–”  Y/N gasped when she saw who it was, and his wide eyes and open mouth matched hers.  “Y/N?” he whispered.

“Bucky?” she whispered back.

Bucky’s shocked expression quickly changed into one of excitement as he smiled widely and threw his dirtied rag that he was holding on the desk.  “No fucking way!” he yelled, rounding the desk and reaching out for her.  Y/N gladly accepted the hug, giggling when he picked her up and swung her around as he held her tight.  

“My God, Buck,” Y/N huffed when he set her down.  “You look so grown!”

“Well, it has been, what…14 years since I last saw you?” Bucky said, looking at her with a disapproving but teasing look.  “You look great.”

“Oh, thank you.  So do you,” Y/N blushed.  “So, you work here now?”

“I own this,” Bucky said, gesturing to the shop.

“Oh!  That’s amazing!”  Y/N said happily.  

“Yeah, old man Pierce finally died and I took over it,” Bucky explained, smiling at the waiting room.  “But hey, you’re a big writer in New York, right?  I read your books.”

“Oh my god, please tell me you didn’t!” Y/N said with wide eyes.

“I did,” Bucky arched his eyebrows at her.  “Very spicy stuff there, Y/L/N.”

Y/N hung her head in her hands, making Bucky laugh.  “I want to die,” she whined.

“It’s okay, honey, they were spicy but good!” he reassured her, squeezing her arms.  “I liked them.  Especially that one about the uh, what was it, the mafia one?”

“Fucking hell,” Y/N shook her head, trying to hide her blush.  “I know it sounds stupid, but you just never really think about people you grew up with reading your stuff?”

Bucky’s head fell back as he laughed.  “Well, you’ve got a little fan club here in town,” he said.  

“How embarrassing,” Y/N laughed.

Bucky stared at her for a minute.  “Sorry, I just can’t believe you’re here…why are you here?” he asked with a frown.

“Well, uh, right now I’m here because my car broke down as I drove in,” she said, pointing to the Beetle outside.

Bucky turned and looked at the car, then looked back at her with a smile.  “Got that Beetle you always wanted, huh?”

“Well, just recently, but yeah,” Y/N smiled, appreciating how he remembered how much she loved old Beetles.

“Well you came to the best mechanic in town,” he smirked.  “Let me take a look.”  She handed him her keys and followed him out to the car.  Bucky popped the back and looked over the engine for a minute before sighing.  “Yeah, looks like these belts need replacing,” he said, pointing at something that Y/N didn’t understand.  “I’ll have to order them, or maybe dig around and see if I can find any nearby.  It’ll probably take me a while,” he grimaced as he looked at her.

“I got nowhere to be,” Y/N shrugged.  “So I’m happy to wait.”

“Great,” Bucky nodded, shutting the door.  He pushed the Beetle into the garage and started making calls as Y/N sat in the waiting room.  After twenty minutes he came in with another grimace on his face.  “So, um…those specific belts won’t be delivered here for about three weeks.”

“That’s okay,” Y/N said quickly, shaking her head.  “Like I said, I got nowhere to be.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes.  “Don’t you have a husband to get back to?”

Y/N sighed and shook her head again, looking away.  “No, not anymore.”

Bucky froze for a moment before stepping forward and grabbing one of the other chairs, setting it in front of her so he could sit facing her.  “Wanna talk about it?” he asked gently.

Y/N snorted.  “What do you wanna know?”

“Everything,” he replied.

Y/N smiled.  “Um…well, I was married to a very successful luxury home realtor,” she began, looking at her hands wringing in her lap.  Her naked left ring finger still had an imprint from her old ring on her skin.  “His name was Raphael.  I called him Raf.”  Bucky nodded, listening intently.  “He was…kind.  Funny.  Very ambitious, which I liked at the time.  But when my writing took off he became insecure, especially when I started out-earning him, and he felt emasculated by the stories I wrote.”

“Emasculated?” Bucky scoffed.  “Why?  He couldn’t get it up?”

Y/N laughed, Bucky joining her.  “No, he was just very…vanilla, compared to what I wrote,” she explained, making Bucky nod in understanding.  “Which I never minded, but he took some kind of weird offense to it and thought I expected too much of him in that department.”

“Idiot,” Bucky shook his head.

Y/N shrugged.  “We had a few issues over the years.  I was focused on my career, and he wanted me to have babies.  There were a few times he, uh,” she looked away again, crossing her arms over her chest.  “He was pushy about it.  We never could get over it.”

“What do you mean, ‘pushy’?” Bucky frowned, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees.

Y/N shrugged again, glancing at him.  “It’s not a big deal, Buck.”  He gave her an unimpressed look.  “He…he tried to force me, a couple of times,” she said quietly, swallowing harshly.  “Tampered with my birth control.”

Bucky’s frown deepened, a sharp huff blowing through his nose.  His jaw ticked and he looked at his hands.  He reached forward for her hands, and she met him halfway.  He studied her hands, his right thumb gliding over her empty ring finger.  “I’m sorry, honey,” he said quietly, finally looking back up at her.  “You didn’t deserve that.  I’m glad you got out.”  

Y/N stared at his intense eyes.  He’d always had a way of looking straight into her soul with those eyes, the bright blue stunning her every time.  He was an incredibly cute teenager, and seeing him as a full grown adult now, with some patches of silver dotting his beard on his chin, the fine lines deepened in the corners of his eyes, he was even more handsome.  Bucky had been her number one when they were kids, he and his family taking her in when her parents were negligent and uncaring.  Even though they had only ever been friends, he’d been her first kiss before she left for college.  It was like their final farewell before she went off to bigger and better things, while he stayed home, unable to get scholarships or have enough money to go anywhere but a trade school.  They had lost touch, but she always thought of him and how he was doing.

“Thanks…Sugar,” she winked at him.

Bucky’s eyes widened before a wide smile spread across his face again and he hung his head as she laughed.  “Man, you’re never going to let that go, are you?” he groaned.

“Nope,” Y/N shook her head.  She squeezed his hands.  “But seriously, thank you.”

“I hope you got everything out of him in the divorce,” Bucky said, letting go of her hands and sitting back in the chair.  

“I did very well,” Y/N nodded.  “I had a great lawyer.  And it was helpful that he wasn’t very good at hiding his affair.”

“Affair?” Bucky scoffed.  “That fucker cheated on you?”

“Well, who else was he going to get babies from, Buck?” Y/N asked teasingly, raising her eyebrows.

Bucky rubbed his face harshly.  “Asshole.”

“Tell me about it,” she grimaced.  “But basically, I got to keep all my book earnings, and since we were married for a while and he out-earned me those first few years, I’ll be getting alimony.  And I sold almost everything before I drove here, so I should be set for a while.”

“Good,” Bucky smirked.  “But why come back here to Woodstock of all places?”

Y/N stared at him.  “I actually don’t know,” she frowned.  “New York just suddenly felt…too big.”  

Bucky watched her for a moment.  “Do you have a place to stay?”

“No,” Y/N shook her head.  “Is the hotel on Idalia still there?”

Bucky frowned.  “Yeah, but it’s still a shithole.  You’re not staying there.”  Y/N sighed.  “You can stay with me,” he offered.

“Oh, no Buck that’s okay, I don’t wanna intrude–”

“You won’t be.”

“What about…do you have a girlfriend...wife?”

“Nope,” he shook his head.  “But I do have a daughter.”

Y/N’s mouth dropped open in shock.  “A daughter?”  He smiled and nodded.  “Oh my god!”  Y/N smiled widely.  “Is that what this is for?” she asked, gesturing to the play area in the waiting room.

“Yep,” Bucky nodded.  “Though she’s far too big for tea sets now.”

“How old is she?  What’s her name?  Wait, where’s her mom? I’m sorry, is that rude of me to ask?  I’m just curious–”

“Breathe, honey,” Bucky interrupted her.  “Her name is Autumn.  She’s about to turn ten.  Her mom and I met while I was at trade school at a party.  We were both too drunk and irresponsible.  By the time I learned about Autumn her mother was trying to give her away for adoption.  She was Catholic and hid the pregnancy from her family, then tried to get rid of the baby once she was born.”  Y/N frowned.  “I took her and her mom signed away her rights.  Haven’t seen or heard from her since.”

Y/N nodded but her frown stayed.  “I’m sorry, Buck,” she said quietly.

“It’s okay,” he shrugged.  “She’s one of the best things that has ever happened to me.  It was hard, but I wouldn’t change a thing.  My mom has been a huge help.  Speaking of which,” he leaned forward again.  “In exchange for me fixing your car, you can help babysit Autumn until I get off work.  Ma’s getting old and can’t quite keep up with her anymore.”

“You’ll…you’ll fix my car for free, and let me stay with you for the foreseeable future, as long as I watch your daughter?” Y/N scoffed.

“Yep,” Bucky nodded, his smirk returning.  “Best friends help each other out.”

“True,” Y/N smiled.  She contemplated it for a moment.  “Deal,” she said, holding her hand out.

Bucky laughed and took her hand, shaking it firmly.  “Deal,” he said.

[grison-in-space]

Hey hey! Wyrd told me you trained your dog to help with executive dysfunction stickyness/ repetitive action and I would LOVE to know how you trained this. I am training my pet to do a few in-home things before I get my prospect in hopefully this year

Oh, hi! There's a longer post about this topic elsewhere in my Matilda tag you might want to check out.

A lot of my training approach is informed by the experimenting I did with alarms that interact with other senses besides acoustics during COVID. I got completely nonresponsive to phone alarms and things, and I was under a truly catastrophic amount of stress related to my PhD at the time, so my general functioning wasn't great and I really NEEDED external cues to trigger basic daily tasks. Unfortunately I have a pretty impressive ability to hyperfocus right past obnoxious alarms, and worse, I am very very good at absently turning alarms off or mimicking paying attention without actually pulling my focus away from the subject of my attention. You get a 5-30sec buffer of retained information for the purposes of holding up a conversation which I am continuously dumping. I am not necessarily doing it consciously, but that doesn't make it not frustrating. Especially because if a human does get my attention, many years of RSD tends to set me at hyper defensive right out of the gate. That's not ideal for a bunch of reasons.

Anyway, I found that vibration or tactile stimuli, as well as visual stimuli (I rigged a disco lamp to turn on at hourly intervals in a desperate attempt to track the passage of time), worked quite well to capture my attention and let me step out of hyperfocus enough to do the next thing. I figured eventually I would have to see humans in their meat suits again and people get weird about shit like this, so I needed something relatively discreet and quiet that shouldn't be disruptive to anyone else. I started thinking about building myself aids.

So the first idea I had was to just program a series of alarms into a smartwatch that could automatically attach them to alerts from my gcal, but it turns out that they don't have an api function that hooks up to stuff like "make watch buzz" and I ran out of bandwidth to deal with it. It eventually just seemed easier to train an entire dog to respond to a quiet alarm than to fight with the hardware and software to make a really good buzzwatch. I use a couple of different alarm ring tones to cue different actions just as you might train any dog to a word: this one means we go to the bedroom, that one means that if you take meds I get candy, and so forth. The actual sound of the alarm is a cue in its own right. I have some discussion in that other post about how I encouraged my dog to essentially play a game with me where she had to figure out how to get my attention without hurting (aka NO SCREAMING WITH YOUR VERY LOUD HIGH PITCHED BARK). Essentially, I'm shaping that out of whatever behaviors she offers me that successfully catch my attention, defined operationally to her as "standing up + sustained eye contact."

In terms of catching me when I'm tending to get stuck on something or stationary without moving, that one is less "Yes I and my dog are amazing and I've trained her to read my mind" and more "I don't make eye contact when I'm dissociating and I almost always am staring into my phone." So if Matilda catches me drifting across the kitchen glued to phone, she knows that if she rockets up and nudges me into paying attention to my body, she'll get a reward. Consequentially, she's a bit enthusiastic about this one and will sometimes ram passersby with her nose, so definitely figure out your failure modes before you teach the dogs anything.

[artist-heart83]

You know what? Today I wake up to yap about my smg4 fanfics, about the process and stuff, so get ready guys, prepare to read a lot.

SMG4 Fanfics made by Lilac_Heart, aka, me but with a different username

Disclaimer. They’re 8 fics at moment, but only gonna talk about 6, mostly because there is nothing special to say about the first one and the new gen fic is still uploading, so it’s not finished.

I care about you (BoMG1)

The idea came out when I was brainstorming comics ideas, but I only got this funny drawing:

Then I got an idea: “a comic where Bob got badly injured and One heal his scars, that’s sound like an amazing idea”.

Buuuut, I was brainstorming the ideas of how the comic should go A particular idea made me realize this work better as a fic, I say: “fuck the comic, let’s make a fanfic”.

Can’t remember if the idea that Bob could get badly injured in one of his business was based in Guns Don’t Scare Me from @briandraws, but I do know I have a few bomg1 fics from him as reference for descriptions and other stuff once I did the english translation.

Bob bring back the nickname of “pretty eyes” to One, is a reference to Glowing Eyes.

Scrap content that I found in the spanish draft!

Instead of Smg2 going by himself to find some pills for Bob, originally it was Smg1 who sent him.

A lot of scenes were extended: Bob and Smg2 conversation about the blades; the “confession” of smg1, which was thanks to Two; Two constantly teasing the couple; the ending.

An actual conversation about if the date would happen, which was between Two and Bob.

Human touch (Marware)

Marware but they just start their relationship. Also, Puzzles touch starved.

Original title from the spanish draft: “Besos para ti” translated into “Kisses for you”, which the original idea was Mario kissing Puzzles.

Just because I really need more fanfics where they are just being soft, and when Mario kisses Puzzles and hugs him ough… So that was the main idea, but I need a “how?” And “why?” Then boom, touch-starved Puzzles.

Obviously I made this fic way before we know about Puzzles family, so let’s pretend when Puzzles have affection of his dad was when he was very young, alright?

The idea of Puzzles not having a hug or any kind of affection since long time ago was based on a prompt I found on Pinterest, and I have a bunch of tabs of how to write a touch-starved person.

Desiring to become a human, so I can kiss you properly (Marware)

Before anyone ask. Yes, me putting the HDR Trio was necessary for many plot reasons as you can see in the fic.

Also, first time I straight went to doing the english version instead of doing a spanish version to then translate it. Huge thanks to my uncle who give a huge boost of confidence when he told I managed english perfectly hehehe.

This fic was a pure excuse just to finally write them making out, so imagine my surprise when people love it and one of my favorite artists made fanart and I swear to god every time I remember it, it feels like this:

Also hi @lizaluvsthis

The illusion disks are from fnaf and I had to look up for any info that could explain to me how they work, just understand the basics and then I did whatever I want because I couldn’t understand it correctly.

Also, I don’t if it’s just me, but I feel the fight was forced for some reason, is either that or I just feel like this every time I reread the fic:

The Dilemma (BadgeHunter)

The biggest one at the moment, and this one have a lot to unpack here.

Original idea from @ominus-potato, which I expand and change a few things:

List of the headcanons that were used for the story:

Mirror headcanon, come from this post. Huge thanks for @izbiz12 for coming with this one.

Hal Jr. having a body comes from the idea of @blu193, which was the high inspiration to him give him a body.

Hal overworking himself is a common thing I found out scrolling in both Blu and Bear profiles, bring by IzBiz.

With “fresh scars” I really wanna implied that Shroomy already have some previous scars, another call back to Blu because she was the one who have the idea of Shroomy having scars for the bear encounter.

Junior being in scouts is actually an idea from Potato, which cool idea.

In the scene when Shroomy and Hal went to the office of the police officer, there was meant to be a scene where Shroomy looked at the picture frame that was on the desk, which was a family picture of Hal, his wife, and Junior. Cut off for unknown reasons.

Shroomy, Hal, Karen, Swag, and Chris being friends is a personal headcanon of mine. Also, Hal leaving Junior to Karen to take care of him is my favorite headcanon, and Brian and I share the same brain cell lmao.

Cozy and soft (BoMG1)

Purely made this because I was craving for BoMG1 content, thanks to this drawing I got inspiration as well, Brian marware fic which has the same concept.

It’s the shortest fic I made after a while, which was the main idea, didn’t want to do something long.

A few references to Glowing Eyes (again):

One got scared by Bob eyes.

Bob getting a copy of the apartment keys.

The mention of a broken window.

Nightmare and Comfort (BadgeHunter)

Idea that I got when I wake up at 7 am. Which the general idea was Hal comforting Shroomy about a nightmare/memory from his past.

This is time I used @bear-boi-5 headcanon about how the aftermath of the bite was. Nothing like Shroomy told in Mario Babies, of course.

I decided that Anti would have control of the body, mostly because he was the most affected of the accident for obvious reasons, also I love Anti, so I would used this opportunity.

I have to avoid mentioning any alcoholic drinks name, because I drink but I have zero idea what are they, soooo… yeah only beer was mentioned because is the one with less alcohol by volume, at least what this post say.

Anti laughing when he gets drunk, is actually based in one of the effects that happened to me.

The dynamic between Anti and Hal is quite complicated, considering the personality of Anti. They tolerate each other and they have to resolved their differences because of Shroomy and Hal hanging out more.

Important to say that after this, Anti would start having feeling for Hal after he understand what Shroomy see on him. Would this cause problems? Not sure, but until further notice, probably yes :)

— — — — —

Hahaha I just love yap about my fics and all the process behind them, is super fun and I actually wanna share this with all of you because you guys are cool and also there is a inspiration behind those stories.

Now, if you excuse I have to get back to do some stuff :]

[kaiserin-erzsebet]

May I ask sincerely what are your thoughts about the fact the that most adaptations of the Mayerling incident chose to romanticize the murder -suicide and the relationship between prince rudolf and baroness Mary vetsera

I am going to start this by saying that I don't know as much about Rudolph specifically as I would like to. My dissertation is about the 1850s and 1860s, so he wasn't yet significant. Much of what I know about him is from discussions of liberalism in the late 19th century, where he shows up as a critic of his father and, for liberals, the hope for reform when Franz Joseph passed the throne to him.

So, I will say that this is a part of two larger conversations in my head: the fixation on famous violent deaths of historical figures and the a general romanticization of depression and suicide.

I'll start with the latter. While I don't think that fiction is obliged to eschew dark themes or only portray suicidal ideation in the scolding tone of a PSA, it strikes me as uncomfortable how often it is portrayed as something as beautiful and tragic. And I mean that broadly, whether it be Empress Elisabeth, Rudolph, Princess Diana, or Marilyn Monroe. There is a real tendency I see to color their entire lives with tragic and always beautiful depression. The facets of them as a person are reduced down to this one thing--with Rudolph this turns into foreshadowing his death in Sisi media even when he's a young child.

It's the "Van Gogh made his most beautiful art when he was depressed" misconception broadly applied. The depression is the tragedy, and the suicide or accidental suicide (thinking here of Marilyn Monroe's death by overdose) is the romantic and tragic end. It's not exclusive to Rudolph, though certainly there is something particularly puzzling about it with him since his suicide was violent and took a young woman with him.

And before I sound too much like the artistic expression police, I do get it. Sometimes creatives want to explore how it feels to be at war with yourself. I have depressive episodes; I understand that feeling all too well. But, does it always have to be graceful and beautiful?

On the second point: There's a real issue with fixating on the violent deaths of historical figures.

If you asked someone who doesn't know much about Austria to name two Habsburgs, you would almost certainly get: Marie Antoinette and Franz Ferdinand.

What do those two have in common? Violent famous deaths.

I would challenge most people who make jokes and references to Franz Ferdinand to actually say something about his politics or his life before his death.

My point here is that the death itself becomes famous and the person's whole life shrinks down to that. That's how we get Rudolph's suicide being portrayed as the product of just having a bad relationship with his emotionally unavailable father or (worse) as a cudgel to punish his mother for not being involved enough.

Rudolph as a person doesn't appear as much. His liberalism? His engagement with the arts and sciences? His travels? His attempts to publish criticism of the empire? It all gets subsumed into the violent end of his life. And even then, his frustrations as a liberal who was seeing both staunch conservatism and rising right wing populism and losing hope in the future hardly takes center stage in portraying his reasons for his suicide.

That's my general take on it, but anyone who knows more about Rudolph specifically is encouraged to chime in with their thoughts.

[urautismdiagnosis]

Peso

Peso my lil Habibi <3 <3 <3

hes just a top tier character

my Hispanic coded son, mylil guy who's learning how to believe in himself

i just I lovepeso guys he's so pure and supportive and caring and lighthearted and silly and he's really doing his best??

he could probably cure my mentally illness with a bandage I'm sure

imgonna be so real I think he has game tho, like I'm 300% he could pull any maiden

he can become friends with like any sea creature too probably

hes my hero and my son and I think he low-key judges everyone internally

cuz like idk if y'all have met people who refuse to swear out loud verbally and hate confrontation, but the internal dialogue omg

i just know one of these days if he gets pushed too far hes gonna threaten someone with his slappity flippers

like y'all know the look birds do where they just sideye you??

that glance???

i think he does that whenever people do things that are stupid

like he loves them all dearly but shellington why would you touch The THing That Will Hurt you, no shellington you cant eat that for science-

Also I think he and dashi would listen to music together i think they might spend evenings relaxing together. I mean their rooms are right next to eachother so like I'm sure they've had some lovely little evening conversations and stuff 🥰 i can just imagine dashi tryna teach peso yoga and like 😩🙏his penguin body wasn't built for it but he still slays

Hes like the little sibling but in the actually I am the most mature way???

I think its cuz he looks up to alot of the other members (altho he's definitely gotten alot more confident as the show has progressed) but he also like..

He gives me the vibes of the oldest sibling of not just the siblings but of all the cousins??? This might just be me projecting but like why did u even become a medic for such a wide range of medical creatures and sign up to join the newly formed highly experimental water nasa???

I think he probably had alot of high expectations on himself because everyone just always believed he could do anything. And that sounds super supportive in theory but when ur like tryna be the oldest and first one to support ur family and everyone is always looking at u because like.. most other people in ur family are younger or ehatever.. that pressure and extra attention can cause alot of perfectionism and high self standards

That mixed with being The Caretaker in your family especially as a child is a pretty good recipe for getting anxious about any big goal in your life and how others perceive you. I think he tried to like humble himself by saying oh no I'm not really capable of all those amazing things so pls don't have those huge expectations hahaha but then it just turned into not believing in himself as much???

Also we slay genuinely caring and kind people having alot of pent up frustration they never show because they love everyone too much. It still hurts inside tho.

Anyways uhhhhhhhhhhh this totally ain't me projectin or anythin.

also hes like a mixed kid, but he's mostly gentoo penguin id say based on my own design

speaking of penguins I think that their homes would be actually made of stone lol. Their homes would have like different smaller homes for privacy around like communal areas.. they still gotta deal with predstors like albatross or ehstever tho. But their albatross for example might work in groups or even be larger.

Friendly reminder my lore for the octonauts is a bit different than the Canon. Sure People People being like hunted is wayyyy less common than irl but They're basically still playing their evolutionary roles kinda like how we see with sea otters in the show.

I'm gonna make the post for their social norms and etc on this within the next few days actually lol but back to peso

Do u guys ever think peso wouldve jumpscared the crew by being like "oh no the shelf is too tall!" And then busting out the "hey did you know that penguin legs are just folded and much horrifically longer than ud think they are?" On them 😩🙏

"Wh- why would ye show me this??"

" because no one will ever believe you"

Hes very sweet but I think he deserves to be a little bit of a sneaky sht

If uve made it this far thanks for reading the brainrot I hope it was comprehensible pls lmk ur headcanons about him cuz I need more ngl

[elwenyere]

I would like to see who you stuck in an old guard au 👀

Thank you for the ask, Serie!!! Titles are from this list. I hope you enjoy the always-unfinished-but-much-beloved Old Guard AU (MCU, eventual Sambucky, canon-typical deaths and undeaths):

*****

The first time Sam Wilson died, he had the theme song from The Golden Girls stuck in his head.

Riley had been singing it into his combat boot while they suited up for the last mission: everyone had their own ways of channeling the pre-flight adrenaline, and Riley’s sounded like two cats going at it in an alley. Sam had rolled his eyes and chucked a towel at him at the time, but then sure enough, the fucking tune had been playing on a loop in his mind all the way from Kandahar. 

He couldn’t say for sure whether that had anything to do with his lapse in attention as they flew over a low stone wall just east of Belal. Much later, his mind would play tricks on him, adding to his nightmares a blur of movement and a flash like moonlight reflecting off metal. Had he seen it at the time and failed to register what it meant? Could there have been a moment - a split-second when a different choice might have saved their lives? Sam turned the question over and over, but no answer could ever be as final as what had happened: in the instant when it mattered, he hadn’t done shit. He’d flown them both straight into the path of the RPG.

That was the first time: a jagged line of fire tearing through his tissue as the combined voices of his dead wingman and Cynthia Fee thanked him for being a friend. 

But even when Sam woke up hours later, thrashing at the canvas sheet covering his face and causing the unit’s medic to leap backward with a choked-off curse, it would still be a full day - twenty-four hours of medical tests and conversations with increasingly concerned military superiors - before the other half of the truth sunk in. That he was alive again meant he was going to die again.

And again and again, according to the man who was sitting in front of him now. 

The dude looked exhausted - and this wasn’t Sam’s first tour, so he knew from exhausted. He’d been cussed at and screamed over by some of the most worn-out motherfuckers in the U.S. Army, but the guy sitting in front of him - all 200 pounds of muscle, thick beard, and furrowed brow - looked tired on a level that strained Sam’ ability to render in language. Bone-tired, his mind tried, and then he had to suppress a shudder as the sensation of fire and metal ripped through his insides again.

“I’m just not tracking with what you’re saying, man,” Sam said out loud, dropping the chain-of-command honorifics, because what the fuck. His best friend was in a body bag, and here he was, with a guard outside the door and not a scratch on his face, so he was pretty sure he couldn’t dig himself much deeper in shit than he already was. “You’re saying I actually died?”

“I know it’s a lot,” the man said. “And you’re in shock.”

Great fucking guess, Sam thought to himself. No shortage of goddamn expert medical opinions around here today. 

But even he wasn’t quite reckless enough to voice that observation where it could be used against him in a discharge hearing, so instead he asked,

“What did you say your name and rank were again?” And then, just belated enough to be pointed, “Sir?”

He expected a rebuke, or at least a scowl, but instead a small smile crept across the man’s face, sloughing off almost a decade of age as it grew.

“I didn’t,” he replied. “And I won’t: not here. My associates and I are going to take you somewhere safe, where we can explain the situation more fully. You’ll be safe with us.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Sam said calmly. “People are already pretty tense here, and I’m going to have enough to explain to my sister without going AWOL on top of it. You come back here with a signed order from my CO, and I’m at your service. Until then, I’m sitting right here.”

The smile on the man’s face turned a little sadder.

“My associates said you’d make me do this the hard way,” he said. And Sam barely had time to realize the man was moving for his gun before a sharp pain cracked through his skull and the whole tent went dark.

–

A hundred years passed before the next impression, or after it - a strip of rusted wire around his windpipe, a blade opening her curled muscle at the seam - and then thousands - the shield’s edge a red welt across his nape as he walked for leagues in the blistering sand - and then there was nothing but pain - white-hot, licking raw, split lashes through his nerves as his shoulder shredded and he burned from the inside, again and again and again.

When thoughts returned, they returned wrong, like someone else was having them too.

“Did you really have to go for the head, Rogers?” a woman’s voice was saying - familiar as the woozy wash of a concussion. “He’s taking an awfully long nap.”

“I forget how long it takes to come back when you’re new,” the man from the tent replied, sounding old and tired and only mildly apologetic for someone who’d shot Sam in the head.

And wait: something about that was definitely wrong.

Sam hurtled upward, breath punching through his lungs, and by the time he’d gotten his fists between himself and his captors, he recognized them all: the man and woman who’d fought each other to the death in a burnt-out building in Berlin, the ancient motherfucker who’d killed thousands before killing Sam. But something was wrong, still. Something was missing.

“Hey, pal,” the blonde man who’d been garroted was saying. “We’re here to help -”

“Where’s the other one?” Sam demanded. “Where’s the guy in the chair?”

All three of them tensed: a shift like the air convulsing inward toward the split shell of an IED. The man they’d called Rogers staggered, just slightly, as if he’d been caught in the blast.

“The guy in the chair,” the woman repeated. “You saw him?”

“I felt him,” Sam corrected. “I felt him screaming. I felt him dying. Where is he?”

The woman looked at the man who’d killed her - whom she’d killed - and he shook his head, his lips forming a quiet fuck. Then she looked over at Rogers, the briefest flash of pain crumpling her expression before she smoothed her features back into their deadly, porcelain calm.

“He was taken,” she said. “We don’t know where. We looked -”

“I lost him.” Rogers’ voice was heavier than ever, and Sam could hear the break in it now: the split bone in his center, ossified around a hole. “They were looking for me. They found him first.”

“Who is he?” Sam asked, because he could still see through the captured man’s eyes, still feel the captured man staring through his. I know him, he thought, and it echoed back from the dream: the man in the chair screaming as the missile split Sam’s chest into shards, I know him, I know him.

Rogers gave him another sad smile.

“His name’s Bucky,” he said. “And he’s immortal, like you.”

[oblivionbladetd]

The Fatal Flaw of Lily Orchards Entire Body of Work: Immersed like Wearin' Combat Boots on a Floor that has been Mopped at Some Point in the last 24 Hours.

I was saving this, but Lorch showed her whole ass again, so I moved it up.

Now, just the other day, I was playing Cyberpunk 2077. Despite being two dashes from the nearest fast travel station, I summoned up my personal favorite car and proceeded to cover 2/3rds of the map to my next job I felt like doing. Nothing really happened on the way there either. I was not bored, though. I was still having fun. I loved the subtle shifts in the environment, the sound design of the world, just existing in the wonderful world CDPR had made. I was immersed in the experience.

I bring that up because I am getting the feeling that Lily... Kinda just can't. Or, at the very least, doesn't 90% of the time. For even when she likes something, she doesn't seem to look very deep in it.

It goes all the way back to that Steven Universe video. A lot of stuff that is not directly plagiarized is her own very surface level takes. Like the Diamonds as Nazis comparison only works if you don't open your mind to the fact that they are inhuman beings that do actually need to be taught humanity, they don't have being reasonable people.exe on board, for gems are a made to purpose race. The show does even spell it out for you in a song, specifically What's the Use of Feeling Blue?, Yellow doesn't ever try and wave away depression, she's literally asking her "sister" what the point of emotions are as they were never made to ponder them until very recently. Because even they are purpose made Gems.

It becomes quite obvious in her fanfics. Niva gets to be measured in giga-Kyoshis because?... she actively despises the cultures that she'd need to fully internalize to use the bending styles with any level of efficiency? Sure fuck it, who cares about living breathing worlds when FACTS AND LOGIC say it's possible therefore she can! Losing childhoods to bloodbend without a full moon? Sounds like a skill issue, Fucko! There's no reverence, no respect, not even a token gesture of balance. It is possible so she can just do it despite it being straight up improbable.

Her streams and retrospective on pokemon even paint it as somebody that can’t be assed to just let themselves IN! Dragon Age is a very high fantasy game. The game wants you to be part of its world! Meanwhile, we have Lily charging an unwavering, perfectly straight line to the next set of end credits in each game, and from what I can tell of her pokemon retrospective does so with most rpgs. She made it sound like Gen 2 ends at the elite 4, and the other half of the game is a waste.

Now, despite these humongous paragraphs... in a vacuum, all this is fine. Like fuck it play how you want, watch how you feel is right, write what fucking ever. I can't be assed to stand watch as a holy arbiter of how to enjoy things. Though in a vacuum, this is just your everyman just chilling and doing their own thing...

Lily is, in her own words, a career critic. There are expectations I am not wrong for having. I do not expect the world from Lily, but it has to be asked what Lily actually adds to the conversation of Critique! She refuses to experience stories as a fantasy to get lost in. It's swimming advice from somebody who has never been in a body of water. Asking a social recluse how to best socialize. Asking the illiterate to write an award winning novel. Taking culinary tips from someone who would happily fucking starve if not for the chicken nugget and French fry combo. She likes to attack fandom all the time but probably couldn't comprehend being that genuinely invested in fucking anything.

I'd probably even feel bad for her if she wasn't such a vile human.

[thievinghippo]

49, emmrich/sonnet

The prompt is a kiss for necessity!

#

“When you were a novice, Rook, I’m assuming Professor Langpichler led your lower Necropolis tour?”

Rook nods and slips her arm through Emmrich’s. They’re in one of the many twisting hallways of the Vault of the Beloved. This has become one of her favorite pastimes: simply exploring the lower Necropolis with Emmrich. With his lichdom, there’s not a spirit who would dare keep them from hidden rooms and secret passages.

“She did. How’d you know?”

“Professor Langpichler and I are the only ones who lead that tour. Perhaps I flatter myself, but I like to think you would remember if I had led your tour.”

Rook squeezes his arm. Well, squeezes the gossamer and damask that protect his humerus. “And then my crush on Profess Volkarin would have started that much more quickly.”

“Well, I’m actually quite grateful you only attended the one lecture and weren’t one of my former students,” Emmrich says, sounding quite serious. “There are boundaries I refuse to cross when it comes to my students. Even ones that have been out of the classroom for years.”

“To be fair, I was on the waiting list— Wait. I see something shiny in that room.”

She loves finding treasure, even if it’s something other people consider worthless. If she’s patient enough, one merchant or another will pay coin for everything she picks up. At least that’s what she keeps telling herself.

The room is small, with only one closed sarcophagus against the wall. Chairs lined up against the other. On top of one chair, a solitary king’s gulder.

“Your nickname is aptly given,” Emmrich says as he enters the room behind her.

“You take that back, Emmrich Volkarin. I am not a cheat,” Rook says in her most long-suffering voice. Emmrich tilts his head. “Oh fine. A bit of a cheat. But only at cards. And only to keep people on their toes. Really, I’m providing an educational experience. They should thank me.”

And that’s when the door slams shut.

One of the first rules of the Necropolis is never lose your exit. Plenty of Mortalitasi and Mourn Watch alike have perished in the past thanks to the twisting, unmarked nature of some of these halls. Or dying from thirst in locked corridors.

Granted, Emmrich can’t die from starvation or thirst, but Rook very much can. And that is not the heroic death she expects, not when she still has to kill a pair of elven gods.

Emmrich immediately goes to open the door. It doesn’t budge. He takes his stave and attempts to unlock it. Nothing.

“I’m trying very hard not to be nervous,” Rook says as she walks up next to Emmrich. Even though he has no body heat, she still wants the comfort of him.

A chill passes through her and she suddenly senses a spirit on the other side of the door. “Is that spirit… giggling?” Rook asks, grabbing Emmrich’s free hand. “I can’t sense what type. Doesn’t feel malicious.”

“A spirit of devotion, darling.”

“Devotion? Really?” Rook can’t keep the smile off her face. Spirit of devotions are quite rare, and only reveal themselves when they want to be part of a couple’s happiness. “But why’d it lock us in here?”

Emmrich strokes the inside of her wrist with his thumb. “I shall ask.” He straightens to his full height. “Spirit of devotion, we thank you for your attention. We humbly ask for your help to leave this room.”

There are times Rook can admit to the slightest bit of jealously when it comes to Emmrich’s knack with spirits. She simply doesn’t have the same report with them. So while Emmrich is clearly having a conversation, all Rook can do is wait.

“Ah, I see. Well, spirit of devotion, that will be no hardship. We will gladly pay your price.”

“It wants my gulder, doesn’t it?”

 Emmrich shakes his head. “Your gulder is safe. It has a simple request. One kiss, and the door will be unlocked.”

Rook can only thrill as Emmrich pulls her into his arms. “As if we need an excuse to kiss,” she says with a laugh, raising her chin.

He lowers his head, and her lips press against his mouth. Rook shivers slightly as Emmrich shares his essence through the kiss. Just enough to leave her wanting more.

The door opens.

Rook makes a decision. “We don’t have anywhere to be this afternoon, right?”

“I have some letters to write, but I can do that while you’re sleeping.”

“Close the door, spirit! We’ll let you know when we’re done.”

Several hours pass before the door opens once again.

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

(if you've read this far, I would love more prompts! Here's the list)

[valley-girlkissers]

Chapter one: pilot

Words: 1630

Chapter one is officially out! Enjoy :)

👙☀️🐚🌊🩷🏄‍♀️🍒

“$600? For a flight to LA????? Ridiculous.” For the past hour, all anyone in Jamie’s household would hear from her bedroom door is her gawking and yelling about how all flights to LA were way too overpriced, and how she is “not a woman made of money!!!”. She was making it very clear that she was not. It was not long after Jamie had gotten way too pissed over flights that were more than $300 when she realised, she wouldn’t be able to make it to America this year and visit her friends. A lot of her friends lived in other countries, some in Canada and even more in America, LA, so every year she made sure to save her money to book flights and visit her friends over the summer…that was until this year. Her job wasn’t great, with the unreasonable hours and shifts Jamie got that weren’t even worth it enough for her paycheck. So she said enough and quit, because that was the most fair thing to do! I mean sure, she wouldn’t be making money anymore but she could’ve always gotten a new job not long after quitting! Or so she thought. Turns out her resume needed a big upgrade and all the places she applied to weren’t desperate for workers like her previous job. Jamie laid on her bed with a pose making her look like a starfish, not even attempting to stay positive or tone down how overdramatic she was being. All of a sudden she heard her phone ringing begging and pleading her to actually respond to a call for once. It was from Scar, one of Jamie’s best friends for a long time, one of the people she was the most excited about seeing on her now destroyed summer trip. She felt horribly guilty, not prepared to break the news to her future disappointed best friend. They had been hyping the trip up for months now, planning where to go and what to see and what to wear, sometimes those conversations with her was the only thing that got Jamie through her day. With a deep breath, Jamie got out of her starfish position and accepted the FaceTime

“Hey Scar!” Jamie didn’t fully understand why she was so extremely stressed, Scar was the most understanding person she had ever met. Yet, she still could not find a way to just chill out of her panicking.

“Hi Jamie! How are you!”

“I’m okay, thanks Scar! Actually, I do need to talk to you about something. Were you about to ask about the summer trip?” Jamie was barely hiding her nerves at this point. “YES!! You read my mind! I was actually going to ask if you had scheduled any flights yet that me and Gri should know about so we can pick you up from the airport and such” Gri, as in Griande, was Jamie’s sister that moved in with Scar a couple years ago when they got together. Great, another person she would be letting down from having to cancel the trip.

“Well I was scrolling through them and well.. Scar I just don’t know if I can make it this year. All the flights are way out of my budget, and honestly I cannot beg my parents for money or else they’ll make me do almost all the work on the ranch again.” That was a true story.

“Okay, hmm.. no that’s, that’s okay! I totally get it haha, flights are way too expensive lately and I know that you didn’t have the highest budget.” Jamie was glad Scar was being understanding but that first part.. felt odd. Scar was making that face Jamie knew all too well.

“I know that face. What are you thinking up there miss goodtimes??? It better not be giving me money for the trip. You know I’ll say no!”

“No, no it’s not that just… okay this could sound a little crazy but what if you worked at the surf store I work at over the summer to pay off the expenses of the trip?” Jamie registered what Scar said for a minute before replying.

“Wait, what? I don’t know, I mean your boss probably won’t let someone work in a store just for two months and then leave suddenly. I don’t know if that’ll work, in all honesty” Jamie wished that would work, but in reality she knew it wouldn’t.

“No I swear my boss X is the best. Also, we actually have had people only come it for a month or two before, she’s totally cool with it. It’ll be perfect! It pays well, and also the hours are not excruciating at all, it’s really well staffed! Please Jamie!!! I’ll totally ask!!” Scar was then doing her pouting ‘please’ face that no one including Jamie never could say no to. It felt cruel.

“Well.. I guess it could work. But make sure you ask! I’ll send over my resume but don’t get too worked up, God knows if this’ll work.” Jamie was then met with a cheering scar jumping around her room saying ‘thank you!’, it was incredibly amusing. Her prediction that Scar would be miserable after the call couldn’t be more incorrect. After talking and planning on what they might be able to do on the trip now that it hopefully wasn’t cancelled, they both hung up. Jamie was back to her starfish pose on her bed but with a much more positive expression on her face, truly trying to manifest hearing a ‘we’d like to offer you a job’ after not hearing it for almost a year. Maybe this trip will happen after all.

~~

“Genuinely, how did you get that lucky that you actually got the job?” Lin said in between folding clothes into his suitcase. Lin, Jamie’s sister, too was coming onto the summer trip. Normally she does with Joelle, his wife and one of Jamie’s best friends. “I.. genuinely don’t know. I was just stressing about flight costs and then all of a sudden Scar talked and pleaded her boss to give me the job and I somehow got it? She fully saved my entire trip” Jamie replied, looking at tops and dresses and asking herself if they looked good. “She calls herself hotgirl for a reason, to be fair.” Joelle said, already giggling at her joke, which everyone else did as well, because it was true that ever since Scar got into superhero’s and Star Wars when she was little all she wanted to do was be a superhero. Hence the name hotgirl. “True, true. I’m not even sure how she even found such a job in the first place. She wasn’t lying when she said the shifts her insanely good with an even better pay, it’s actually unfair how much she lucks out sometimes I swear” “it’s all about having a good boss… which you and your dumb luck unfortunately did not have at your last job!” Lin pointed out, and he wasn’t wrong. “Pretty ironic that you have the worst luck with jobs yet one of your best friends has the best luck with jobs, hey?” Joelle also pointed out. It felt like salt in the would at this point! Jamie didn’t mind at all though, truly she loved being teased and being the butt of the joke “like you’re to talk Joelle, what about your first job? Where they didn’t even tell you about your hours and then got mad when you didn’t show up to shifts you didn’t know about” “fair play. Fair.” The three could go on for ages about their horrible first jobs, but honestly they were way too preoccupied with outfits, flights and day-to-day activities. “What if we tried out this mini surf course together? It’s only for a week but it looks really fun! It says it’s hosted by ‘the most passionate surfers in the world’, whatever that means” Lin suggested “er.. I’m not really sure my balance is horrible. I would look like a cartoon character slipping on a banana peel” Jamie responded, which actually had happened before. “Well now we need to do it. I need to see Jamie fall off her board.” “Okay Joelle, as if you would also have balance on a surfboard” “I’ll have you know that I am the quickest learner of all time! I could probably be the best surfer ever only aster a few minutes” Joelle loved feeding into her comedically big ego, though she wasn’t serious most of the time. “Another thing, Jamie what time is your flight tomorrow? Just so me and Joelle know when to drop you off” Joelle and Lin were going to America just after Jamie, only because they wanted to make sure everything was sorted like the house/dog sitter. “Uhhh… I think midday? I’ll have to get there around 11:30am I think.” “Noted!”

~~

“Thanks for driving me guys, I’ll see you in a couple days?” Jamie thanked Joelle and Lin as she stepped out of the car “yep! No worries Jamie, see you soon!” And with that the two were off.

The process to actually get to the gate was excruciating, but Jamie got through it all eventually. She felt extremely proud of herself after surviving it all in one piece. “Flight 276 to America, Los Angelous is now boarding. Please board your flight now if it’s yours” blasted in the speakers of the airport, so Jamie picked all of her luggage up and boarded the plane.

Eventually the plane took off, and Jamie was overjoyed that a trip she thought she would have to cancel, was actually happening. Next thing she knew, she had arrived in LA and could see Scar and Griande at the bottom of the escalator to pick her up.

[alice--pallas]

While Alice didn't fear that the information would turn Abraxis away, she did feel a sort of relief that he was now aware of this important knowledge. It certainly wasn't the most important fact about her past but a vital one nonetheless. She smiled at them when they expressed their gratitude for her honesty. It was strange, learning how to trust someone in this way again, after so long. Initially, she'd really just been looking for a fling and some intel, a fact that she sometimes felt a little guilt over--but she couldn't have known that it was going to turn into something so much deeper and meaningful. And yet, even now, there was a small worry in the back of her head that wondered if Abra knew anything about what had happened a few nights ago in the graveyard. She wanted to believe that he couldn't have but right now, there really wasn't any way to be 100% sure. She supposed that, per usual, she'd just have to trust her gut. To be fair, her gut usually lead her in the right direction--usually. I have questions but I want you to know that nothing you could ever reveal about yourself would alter my perception of you. She smiled at these words, though she found them interesting as well. To her core, Alice had a strong moral compass and therefore, she hadn't had many moments that she was truly ashamed of. No, she didn't feel great about her prior addictions but she didn't beat herself about them, either. Being such a loyal person, she had never betrayed anyone that she cared about--that being said, though, she did wonder what would cross Abraxis' personal line of what they personally deemed to be reprehensible. Giving them a small smile and a nod, she said "You can ask your questions if you want."

In retrospect, perhaps she shouldn't have used a phrase that was commonly used in wedding vows. For better or worse. I un-ironically like that sound of that. Giving a small chuckle, she said "You know what I mean." Of course, she didn't want to push away the romantic notion of what Abra was hinting at (and maybe joking about?) but at the same time, they were far from any kind of commitment like that. Furthermore, Alice was almost positive that she wasn't interested in getting married again for a long time. If she were ever to do that, she had to be sure it was the one--and even then, did that really make a difference? She'd been so sure that Alec was the one and look how that one had turned out. She was more than content with taking things slow as they had been. For example, they hadn't even had the 'what are we' conversation, mostly because they both felt satisfied with simply enjoying each other's company.

Though she was admittedly a bit surprised at their confession to having acted entitled, she did appreciate their honesty to come clean about it at all. Besides, from the sound of it, they were purely referring to interactions that they'd had with the hospital staff--they hadn't mentioned her family, though she was certain that they'd crossed paths. All this to say that if they didn't want her knowing about it, they hadn't actually had to tell her--and that honesty meant everything, even with something so seemingly trivial. Then again, being kind to others wasn't really trivial at all, was it? "Thank you for telling me," she said, her blue eyes earnest. "I'm sure it's been stressful for...everyone. But I appreciate you being on your best behavior," she said with the slightest of chuckles. "Besides, I can't really blame you for flaring your temper--I'd probably have done the same." Abraxis hadn't seen it, and she bashfully hoped they'd never have to, but Alice knew a thing or two about having a temper herself. She'd certainly raised some hell when she'd been a bit younger and louder, that was for sure.

Mystery is part of the allure. Smirking, she said "It certainly is." Of course, it wasn't just Abraxis working through the layers to get to her core--she'd also been doing the same thing, trying to get to know them on a deeper level. "That's part of the fun, though, isn't it? Putting all the pieces of the puzzle together?" she smiled, tracing her fingers along their well-defined arms. She'd much rather have this conversation wrapped in their arms in their bed inside their dark, antiquated home--naked, perhaps. She supposed that this sterile hospital room with beeping monitors would have to do for now, though. "I'm hoping I don't have to be in here much longer..." she said, unable to push away her current predicament from her mind.

She couldn't lie--she'd half-expected Abraxis to insist that she no longer pursue this, voicing their worry for her safety and in fact, when they'd started to respond, that's where she thought they were going. It was the perfect ploy--to be resolute in asking her to please stop looking because someone could come after her again or even worse, her daughter. They use the guise of fearing for her safety, all the while, keeping her in the dark about whatever nefarious deeds were taking place. That's why when they said 'We need to prove it,' she couldn't help but look at them in amazement. "You...want to help me?" she asked, fighting a smile. Perhaps... What you need is help from someone on the inside. Alice's eyes lit up at the suggestion--that together, they could get to the bottom of this. It did, of course, cross her mind that this was also a good ploy--but then again, maybe she was just being paranoid. After all, she couldn't possibly forget her hallucinations in the graveyard. She was scared and that was understandable. But maybe, just maybe, she really could trust her lover.

“i can see that it has impacted you—and still impacts you now,” abraxis murmured, their words a deliberate cadence of reverence. there was an elegance in alice’s resilience, a quiet yet commanding strength that stirred something ineffable within them. it was breathtaking, an understated radiance that rendered her more than merely captivating; she was a pillar of survival, a poignant reminder of why she held their interest so effortlessly. while alice was right about the need for the right time and place to unveil her story fully, abraxis inclined their head in a gesture of deep appreciation, their gaze steadfast. “thank you for choosing to share this with me. i consider myself fortunate—honored, even.” their voice softened, a tender veil drawn over the delight that hummed beneath. they were enraptured, eager to map every intricate contour of her soul. still, questions lingered like specters at the edges of their mind, threatening to surface, yet they withheld them for now, choosing instead to offer gratitude in its stead. “i have questions,” they admitted, their voice a low murmur, “but i want you to know that nothing you could ever reveal about yourself would alter my perception of you. these things only draw me closer.” there was a  quiet intensity in their words. their pull toward her was undeniable, a gravitational force as illecebrous as it was inescapable. the phrase for better or worse tumbled through their mind, a notion that once clawed at their subconscious, shredding their sleep with fears of vulnerability and ruin. yet, when abraxis tried the words aloud, they found their lips curling upward in an unbidden chuckle of felicity. “for better or worse,” they echoed, the phrase a tender musing that left them bashfully self-aware. a slight cringe danced across their features, as though the intimacy of the sentiment had caught them unprepared. “I un-ironically like the sound of that,” they confessed, a quiet laugh trailing after, fragile yet sincere.

what do you mean? “i mean that,” they added after a breath, their thoughts slipping momentarily to the painful recollection of that first night. shame weighed heavily upon their shoulders, tugging like a child’s relentless grip on a parent’s ankle—innocent yet unrelenting. “i am, as we speak, in the process of rebuilding a rather dismal rapport with the front desk staff,” they admitted, their tone self-deprecating. “while i didn’t exactly cause a scene in my efforts to see you the first time, i may have ruffled a feather or two.” they bowed their head slightly, humility etched into every line of their expression. they hesitated, their voice dropping to a near-whisper, heavy with contrition. “i managed to rein in my temper, but i behaved… entitled. i’m ashamed of it.” their lips pressed into a thin line, the faintest flicker of self-disapproval shadowing their gaze. “i’ve apologized to the staff, but i owe you an apology as well, in case you find my behavior as embarrassing as i do. i promise—no, i swear—to be on my best behavior from here on out.” it was more than a vow to her; it was a covenant with their own integrity, one made in the silent chambers of their conscience.

a slow, deliberate grin unfurled across their lips as alice’s teasing words reached them. her question—playful, provocative—was a spark in the quiet. oh? have i been some great mystery to you up until now? the curve of their mouth was lopsided, unevenly charming, the kind of smile that hinted at mischief lurking just beneath the surface. their eyes glimmered with a wicked yet soft light. “mystery is part of the allure,” they replied, their voice a rich, rolling timbre that carried an intimate warmth. in her presence, despite the frigid air outside, they felt as though they stood in her apricity, basking in her glow as a raven might perch upon the bare boughs of a willow, warmed by a rare winter sun. “but understanding,” they continued, their tone deepening, “is the reward. and in that aspect, i’m a rich soul.”

something is happening. the story began to unravel between them like smoke spiraling into clouds, its shape elusive yet undeniable. abraxis, despite the shroud of secrecy they had wrapped so tightly around themselves, could no longer remain hidden in the mist. within alice’s steady gaze, they felt exposed, as though her insight pierced through the veil of their carefully maintained diversions. “i agree,” they conceded finally, their voice dipping into a heavy quiet. “you can’t put yourself—or rhea—in any further danger.” the nod they offered was a solemn gesture. “but if you think you’ve uncovered something amiss…” the thought lingered, unspoken fears curdling like ink in water, darkening the clarity of their mind. their gaze sharpened, a flicker of steel beneath the velvet of their tone. “we need to prove it.” the suggestion hung in the air, cautious yet resolute. despite the gnawing dread at the edges of their consciousness, they knew alice was right. against their better judgment, and even their instinct to shield her from harm, they whispered their agreement. “you have to see it through.” their teeth worried at their lower lip as they considered the repercussions, the ripples of this decision stretching far beyond them both. “perhaps… what you need is help from someone on the inside?"

[acedecoeur]

📜

Corvina: Okay, truth or dare? Ghost: Truth Corvina: How many hours have you slept this week? Ghost: Ghost: ... Dare Corvina: Go to bed. Ghost: I don't like this game.

incorrect quotes generator

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

you want a new kind of guy, fine, i raise you: the lady i was briefly roommates with in college who once smoked a blunt at a party and then spent an hour confessing earnestly to me that she genuinely preferred reading detailed episode recaps over actually watching the tv show in question