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#and i have some unique tastes compared to my parents
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i don’t understand. you live together, why not just share groceries? or agree on some fraction of the grocery budget to be paid by each
i mean we mostly do. my mom buys groceries for the household with the household account she and my dad share. but if there is something in particular that i like or i use regularly, i buy it. which is fine, but then i'm not the only one who eats the stuff i get, except for the oat milk and sparkling water and kombucha. and generally all this is fine but groceries are expensive and last week i had so many expenses that needed paying so my poor account is battered. so its just been overwhelming........and then there's the fact that i can't ask them for help on this front or with my student loan payments but they still pay for my sister's rent and utilities and my dad fills the apple cash so she has money for groceries or eating out or what have you, but she also has a job. that pays more than mine (but she lives in NYC). and when she's home, my mom gladly buys things for her. and so when i get particular down its hard not to seethe about this 🫠 and it's not really fair because she only graduated this year
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dfortrafalgar · 1 month
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Gift of Belonging
Luffy x GN Reader
Life didn't have a purpose without Luffy.
Warnings: Fic from my 100 followers poll!!! can be read as either platonic or romantic, mentions of self deprecating thoughts but nothing too severe, just some short, feel good, reassuring hugs from our favorite straw hat-wearing captain <3
Taglist: @bokutosbiceps | @luffy0s | @surgeonoffish
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You were at the end of your rope when you joined the straw hats, but who wasn’t?  You weren’t special in the grand scheme of the world’s most infamous pirate crew.  You couldn’t compare to the tumultuous lives of the rag-tag bunch that had quickly become your lifeline, you had nothing on being the child of an abusive royal family, or the last survivor of a decimated nation, or the unfortunate witness to the killing of a friend or parent, or a literal god.  You weren’t a cyborg or an animal or a reincarnated being hundreds of years old.  You were just… simple.
And yet, the Straw Hats made you feel accepted.
They made you feel wanted.
And no one had wanted you more than Monkey D. Luffy.
You still struggled to accept the boisterous boy’s words when he welcomed you aboard his grand ship.  You had put up an argument, insisting that you would only get in the way, that your strengths paled in comparison to the rest of the crew, that you had no business being a part of the inner circle of one of the Emperors.  But not a single eyelash was batted in the direction of your plight.  Simply endless stares of patience, waiting for you to finally bite the lure and climb up the gangway and officially join the Straw Hats.  And when you finally did, Luffy had said the words that had stuck with you since then.
“I don’t care who you are.  You’re special and you deserve a spot in my family.”
It was as if the world opened up around you for the first time.  Instead of seeing your surroundings in black and white, colors infiltrated your retinas in ways you had never experienced.  Suddenly, the sunshine that beat down on your skin felt like a pleasant hug from the world, rather than a punishing burn against your weary being.  Food you ate and drank every single day tasted extra good because it was always cooked with love and affection, the flirtatious cook not caring at all where you had come from.  Luffy and his crew made it known from the second they met you that you were deserving of love, respect, and friendship.
And you couldn’t lie… the first few days were overwhelming.
The Straw Hats were loving.  They were really loving, and their unique ways of showing they appreciated you were slowly building up in your veins like a disease until one night, when you were on watch, you cracked.
You broke down.
You sat on the stern of the Thousand Sunny, gazing out from the white-painted railings and over the vastness of the dark ocean and seamlessly blended in with the sky above you, the only light shining on you being from the twinkling stars millions of light years away.  Quiet, salty tears flowed down your cheeks, your shoulders clenched as you wrapped your arms around yourself, sniffling into the collar of your shirt.  You loved your crew, you really did.  You began to realize that you loved them more than you ever loved anyone else in your life, and that thought somehow scared you.  Like you were unprepared.  Like your heart had been so deprived of love for your whole life that the overabundance of it in such a short time caused your brain to short-circuit.  And you cried.  You weeped on the Sunny’s back deck, into the calmness of the night.
Until the sound of clopping flip-flops climbing the steps to where you sat alerted your attention, causing you to freeze up, holding your breath, wishing your tears could evaporate away.
“Hey, what are you doing up here alone?”  It was Luffy, his usually exuberant voice a rare form of calm as he approached you.  He wasted absolutely zero time in plopping himself onto the hard deck beside you, extending his legs and holding his arms out, hands behind his head.
You stayed hunched into yourself, trying to hide your shame in your hands.
“Hey… are you alright?” he asked, his voice somehow even softer.
A faint sniffle from you was all your captain needed to hear.  He sat up with a start and grabbed your shoulders with his calloused hands, yanking you around to face him.  Your eyes were wide with shock at his actions, but you stayed frozen.  It’s not like you could run anywhere, the man was made of rubber.
“Why are you crying?” he asked, his eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed, an intense stare that bored into your skin.  “Did someone say something to you?  Did someone hurt you?”
You shook your head, wiping your tears away on your arm.  You took a deep, shuddering inhale before finally forcing your shoulders to relax.  “No… no one said anything to me.”
“Then why are you crying?”
Luffy, despite not being overly emotional in normal circumstances, was scarily good at reading people.  It didn’t matter if you couldn’t outright say what was bothering you, he would eventually figure it out with that convoluted tunnel system of a brain.  His adorable lips curled into a pout as he analyzed your face, picking apart every twitch of your muscles.
You inhaled once more, turning your face away from him slightly.  “I’m just… not used to this.”
“Not used to what?”
His questions, and the feigned clueless tone of his voice almost made a smile crack onto your face.  Another talent of Monkey D. Luffy: he was like a wrecking ball for the walls you built up around yourself.
“I’m not used to… this.”  Your hands circled around you, gesturing to the ship, causing Luffy to finally drop his hands from your shoulders.  “Being a part of a crew.  You guys are… too nice to me.”
Luffy was ready with a response immediately.  “We could never be ‘too nice to you.’  That’s impossible.  We love you.”
Your lip quivered slightly.  “That’s what I’m not used to.”
“Being loved?”
There it was.  You feebly nodded.  “Yeah.  That.”
Your captain scooted across the deck closer to you, if that was even possible.  He was basically flush against you at this point.  He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a warm bear hug, his fluffy black hair tickling the skin of your cheek.  “We love you because you’re special to us, we don’t need a reason for that,” he described.  His voice faltered, as if he wanted to say something else, as if he was trying to add to his words.  Instead, he squeezed you into him, closing his eyes as he felt your muscles grow limp.  ‘We love you, but I love you more.’
“I just wish it was easier for me to accept that,” you whispered into his shoulder, struggling to hug him back.
Luffy’s embrace didn’t relent.  If anything, he tried to pull you in closer.  The force of his hug made you lose your balance on the floor, falling over on top of him, your chin hitting his shoulder.  But he still didn’t let up.  He held firm, squeezing you as if you would fade away into dust if he let go.
“Luffy–” you wheezed against his skin.
“What?”  He sounded completely oblivious.  “I’m going to keep hugging you until you don’t feel sad anymore.  No more crying,” he demanded.  “Captain’s orders.”  His last sentence held a hint of playfulness, the smile he surely wore on his face coming through the sound of his voice.
He must have been contagious, because your own grin slowly grew on your lips.  After what felt like hours, you finally reciprocated his hug, curling your arms under him and letting yourself finally relax in his embrace.  You knew Luffy had odd ways of showing he cared, but this was definitely unexpected.  Unexpected, but not necessarily unappreciated.  His presence emitted a warmth akin to summertime air, his existence like the calming breeze of the open ocean that wafted around you and circled you in comforting drafts.  Luffy never judged, never wavered, never ceased to let his crew, and now you, know how truly grateful he felt to be able to live his life with his favorite people.
You made a slight movement to stand up, but Luffy’s arms tightened their hold around your back.  “Not yet,” he grumbled.  “I don’t wanna stand up yet.”
“Is this how you comfort everyone on the crew?” you asked, your voice coming out muffled as you spoke into his neck.
“Hmm… not necessarily.  Everyone’s different.  Chopper really loves hugs, and Zoro lets me hug him, but sometimes Nami and Robin can take them or leave them.  Usopp likes hugs but doesn’t like to admit it.”  A smile crawled to your face as your captain rattled off the preferences of your fellow crewmates, the ways in which he perceived their unique and individual personalities bringing a comforting reassurance to your heart.  “I feel like you really like hugs, and you clearly needed one right now.”
You bit the inside of your lower lip, trying to bite back the tears that formed in the corners of your eyes.  The tension escaping your body dissipated in large waves, leaving you with nothing but warmth and comfort in the arms of the man who had surely saved your life.
And for the first time since officially joining the Straw Hats, you began to feel truly, unconditionally loved.  It was miraculous.  All it took was a single hug from the nicest, most selfless person you had ever met.
Someday, you’d be sure to return the favor for Luffy, even if he wouldn’t accept.
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shadowshrike · 6 months
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The Curious Case of Halsin and Astarion's Ascension
For anyone who's occasionally poked around my stuff, you probably know that I found my Evil run of Baldur's Gate 3 (by which I mean my selfish run where I tried to gain as much power, wealth, and companion trust as I could) to be my most satisfying thus far. Part of that was the unique experience of having Halsin ask to join Tav and Astarion's relationship post-Ascension.
At the time, I said yes because it made sense for my character to "collect" an Archdruid. Out of character, I was tickled by the idea that Halsin confessed after Astarion became the new biggest bad in the land. Halsin was supposed to be a Good guy. Surely, either a possessive Astarion would be spitting mad about the arrangement, or Halsin would have second thoughts about Mr. Vampire Ascendent once he got a taste. I was ready for the drama.
It never came. In fact, the glimpses of their dynamic were so comfortable and playful that I was shocked.
Since then I've been doing a lot of thinking about Halsin and why he might act how he does throughout the Ascension storyline. I realize most of this can be handwaved with 'fanservicey romance writing.' That's true for parts of all romance paths, honestly, and I don't consider it a wholly bad thing given the game's goal to make you its center. However, I think being dismissive of the writing is not as much fun as building headcanons that work with any set of behaviors or lines you get.
So enjoy some theories pulled from datamined dialogue and my personal games. As always, this is completely hypothetical - I encourage everyone to write 'canon' in their personal playthroughs however they prefer.
Note: it's impossible to get all these lines in a single run due to some hinging on Astarion leaving and some may be bugged or near impossible to trigger. They're just being used to explore a character and dynamic that I don't see much of around fan spaces.
Halsin on the value of lives
To briefly set the stage, it's important to understand how Halsin views life and justice. He spells it out rather clearly if Kagha kills Arabella and her parents are also dead.
Halsin doesn't consider himself to be an arbiter of good and evil, only a steward of nature and its Balance. He highly values life. However, it's not him, the leader of the Grove, who is ultimately responsible for deciding Kagha's fate; it's the wronged parties or, barring that, nature itself who should decide her true punishment.
Halsin: As for the idol? It's nothing compared to a life. A mere object, next to one of nature's creations. I cannot absolve you, even if you are repentant. The girl's parents should have decided your fate, but they perished. Instead, nature will judge you. You are banished from this place - banished from everywhere the Oak Father's creations thrive.
But valuing the sanctity of life doesn't mean he doesn't also understand the importance of sacrifice. For example, if Wyll chooses his freedom over his father, Halsin counsels that it's a necessity to sacrifice to grow at times, no matter how unpleasant.
Halsin: You made a hard choice, Wyll. But not one that is unknown in nature. At times, a seedling must strangle the very tree that bore it, if it is to survive.
The price of 7000
So, Halsin's not a big fan of sacrificing life, yet understands that sometimes, people need to die for others to thrive.
But what about 7000 lives? A whole village worth?
That level of sacrifice sounds an awful lot like the day his life was destroyed by Ketheric and the Shadow Curse. A horrible event that haunted his every thought and deed for the next 100 years.
Within this context, it makes sense that all of his responses during the Ascension, whether Astarion does it or not, are focused on the price being paid. He usually emphasizes the sheer number of people affected and never discusses Astarion's potential evil (more on that later) or the undead nature of those lives.
Halsin: Stay your hand, Astarion. To sacrifice so many is a tyrant's ambition.
Halsin: All those lives snuffed out, just to grasp some power. That was craven - unnatural.
Halsin: Astarion resisted the allure of Cazador's would-be powers - and I am glad of it. Whatever he would have gained would have come at a great price.
The interesting part about this is, as an Archdruid of Silvanus, those undead lives should be considered an abomination. The Oath of Ancients oath break if you free the spawn reminds us of this. So Halsin's advice to save the spawn is not necessarily druidic advice - it is a personal opinion wrapped in flimsy druidic justifications.
He even recognizes undead as unnatural when you enter Cazador's home:
Halsin: A lair of undeath - most unnatural. We must tread carefully.
Yet about the spawn, who are undead and an intimate part of that unnaturalness, he says this about releasing them:
Halsin: Good - they deserve a chance at life. Nature will handle their fates from here.
Mercy for all monsters?
This is interesting to compare to another encounter with a smaller version of an eerily similar choice in Act III. The mindflayer in the Windmill - a person turned into a monster, much like a spawn. Allow it to live, and it may devour a family. In that case, Halsin says:
Halsin: We allowed this unnatural thing to live - now a whole family's worth of blood is on our hands.
He joins a host of other Good companions who curse themselves for showing mercy where it wasn't warranted. These are largely the same companions who would also save the spawn.
Karlach: This is our fault. These people died because of us. What were we thinking?
Wyll: Justice does not entail granting mercy to monsters. We should not have let this abomination go free.
Gale: A cruel conclusion to the mercy we showed, but hardly an unpredictable one. As long as it lives, so will its appetite.
The contradictory perspective taken during these two storylines shows the importance of emotional context in how we make decisions. For most, their traveling companion, who also has a tadpole, is the first vampire spawn they've ever met, while mindflayers have generally been the big evil this entire time. This could lead them to feel as though a horde of spawn may have enough humanity to need a chance, while a newborn Mindflayer should be exterminated on sight. Also, most of the other Good companions are relatively young and idealistic, so it makes sense that some may make foolhardy, heroic decisions.
But this encounter also begs the question: if these heroes are so distraught by having the blood of one family on their hands due to a single hungry mindflayer they saved, how could they justify letting 7000 starving monsters with unquenchable bloodlust free? Are they simply kind-hearted and short-sighted? Or maybe they're only optimistic about the hunger of vampire spawn, despite having personal examples of both a spawn and a mindflayer who manage their hunger equally ethically - by feeding on enemies and criminals.
Their naivety is driven home by Jaheira not being moved by the mindflayer or the spawn due to her extensive life experience. She believes in both cases that the greater mercy is to kill the creatures now.
(About the spawn) Jaheira: And what of the living they'll feast on, should they not prove as admirable as Astarion? They deserve a chance, too.
(About mindflayer) Jaheira: Look well. Our stupidity. Our price to pay.
Halsin is even older. He's a devout druid. He recognizes undead as unnatural. By all accounts, he should be on the same page as Jaheira to preserve the Balance. Yet in the face of that, he still advises to give the spawn a chance to live free, likely wreaking havoc wherever they need to feed.
I like to think this strange blind spot in his doctrine is due to a combination of Astarion's presence humanizing the unknown spawn, therefore making their unlives worthy of protection, and his own history as a genocide survivor creating an emotional reaction strong enough to override his usual wisdom. The price of a village is simply too devastating and personal for him to condone. No matter what letting 7000 ravenous undead free may mean.
Making the price worth it
Once you've ascended Astarion, you may be surprised that Halsin - generally a good man - is now steadfastly on Astarion's side. His reactions to the Gur conflict highlight this. If you side with Astarion against them, he's not happy, but resolute.
Halsin: An unfortunate battle... but I must stand by those I count as allies.
And if you decide Astarion is evil now and side with the Gur, Halsin doesn't seem to care about what Astarion has become, only that you allowed the sacrifice to happen and then let it go to waste:
Halsin: We allowed Astarion to sacrifice so many, only to just turn on him soon after? We should have stopped him sooner.
In contrast, many other companions call Ascended Astarion a monster, evil, or maniacal if you turn on him. They believe killing him at that point was the only right answer.
Karlach: It's done. It had to be done. Astarion was... out of control. Gods dammit. Look, he was an evil leech, but he was ours. I thought he'd changed. I was wrong. I always am these days.
Minsc: Do not mourn Astarion. The Gur are known to be a just and righteous people among the Rashemaar. They named Astarion monster, and so monster he was. Yes, Boo - even if he sometimes seemed a friend.
Gale: That's one scourge eliminated. A vampire with that much power would be a death sentence for this city. A pity Astarion didn't understand that. Or rather, didn't care.
Lae'zel: Astarion proved himself no less maniacal than his master. His death was a favour - to him, to us, and to the city.
Wyll: Hunt the monsters of the Sword Coast, protect the people - that was my promise. Killing Astarion was the right thing to do. I have to believe that. But I'm not proud of it. Not after... all this.
Ignoring Astarion's evil and telling you that you shouldn't have betrayed him may seem odd for a character who usually has a strong moral compass. Especially since Halsin doesn't tell you that you shouldn't have betrayed Shadowheart if you choose that path, though he's wary of that decision since you're handing her over to Sharrans. However, if Halsin's focus is on the 7000 lives and not on Astarion's personal kindness or cruelty, it makes more sense.
The people are gone. There is no taking back all those lost. So he's left with the need to make their sacrifice something other than a meaningless slaughter. The power for his companion must be worth it.
Halsin on Evil Astarion
You may be thinking, "Okay, but even if it's all about the mass sacrifice mimicking his own horrific past, shouldn't he still care about Astarion being Evil? He doesn't like evil acts at all!"
That's mostly true. Halsin certainly hates Shar for personal reasons and can get upset when you do cruel things. However, he's also potentially had a bit of a soft spot for Astarion since Act I, when you can decide the vampire spawn is evil and kill him or kick him out of camp.
His lines for this are actually shared with Karlach, Wyll, and Jaheira, according to the data. The uniqueness is primarily in his distraught line delivery.
If you kill Astarion, Halsin admits that he liked the guy even though he was a killer:
Halsin: Rest in peace, Astarion. You may have been a blood-thirsty murderer, but I liked you all the same.
And if you send him away, Halsin says this about Astarion being alone in the woods:
Halsin: He's someone else's problem now, anyway. Woods are full of boars. Maybe he'll learn his lesson and start hunting something that won't miss him when he goes.
His camp reactions immediately after Ascension mirror this attitude of concern rather than condemnation of evil. If Halsin speaks directly to Astarion, he sounds exasperated (the way Halsin says his name always makes me snicker) while Halsin once again brings up the idea of the price being paid.
Halsin: Astarion... you have ascended amongst the ranks of the undead. I can only hope that you do not come to regret the price that you paid.
However, the almost identical line if he's talking to another player character is delivered differently, particularly in how he says Astarion's name. It's more concerned than judgmental, implying that his frustration with Astarion is coming from a place of worry rather than pure anger.
Halsin: Astarion... he has ascended amongst the ranks of the undead. I can only hope that he does not come to regret the price that he paid.
This is particularly notable because it's in contrast to Shadowheart, who has a very similar line after her evil choice, but the emotion behind both sounds more similar to my ear.
After that initial comment, Halsin can banter with Ascended Astarion about how he's turned the player into a vampire spawn if there's a player romance. Unlike most of the other companions who can comment, such as Wyll and Gale, he expresses worry for both of them, not just the player. He also explicitly explains he has no intention of kink-shaming them, just warns about how dangerous having a master/thrall relationship can be if made real.
Halsin: To give oneself wholly, and to have a lover totally in your thrall...? A harmless game, until it becomes real. I worry for the two of you, Astarion. For your sake, I hope some of it is just a fantasy, deep in your heart.
But perhaps the most blatantly accepting we see him of Ascended Astarion is if they go to the Drow twins together. There are always some playful lines with one another if they're both present, but one is unique to Ascension if the player bites Halsin as a spawn during the scene. Halsin's response is light and delighted, acknowledging Astarion's role as not just a vampire, but the lead in your new relationship.
Halsin: Ha - tickles. See what a bad influence you are, Astarion?
Combine with Halsin's direct propositioning of Astarion if Astarion teases him about his night with the player, and there's a case for long-held attraction as well, regardless of alignment.
Astarion: I hear things got wild between you two. I hope no one was too badly mauled. Halsin: We're all in one piece. Perhaps you'll join us next time. Astarion: It's bad enough having one person with fangs trying to keep control of themselves. Two of us could be dangerous.
All these lines, taken together during times when others label Astarion a monster, suggest that Halsin accepts Astarion as a whole. He doesn't believe in trying to change people's nature, so maybe he sees any distasteful deeds as part of Astarion's, the same as an owlbear cub eating its mother might disgust some though it is completely natural.
It makes sense, then, that Halsin might be proud of Astarion for choosing morality or personal growth, but he isn't too bothered if that doesn't happen either. What line Astarion would have to cross to earn Halsin's true ire is unknown. The reverse is a much more complicated question (mostly because it's plausible that many of Astarion's lines are rooted in deception) that I may delve into another time.
Is this whole relationship a little ironic given that Halsin is The Selfless Good Druid and Astarion is The Selfish Evil Undead? Absolutely. But that's the fun of it, in my opinion. It adds depth to these characters in ways that rarely shine through during a singular playthrough, especially since very few will do the crazy thing I did with an Ascended Astarion + Halsin romance.
It sure makes for narrative fun, though.
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userholland · 2 years
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between the lines | frat!tom
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finals week is here and you’re an emotional wreck, to say the least. not only is your schedule jam-packed, but there are things going on in your life as well. you need to cram, you need to meet due dates and frankly, you could use a drink to get through it all. the night you go to a frat party, you see a cute and familiar face that you have to see every time you go to the small bookstore and he’s behind the cash register.
PAIRING : frat!tom & college!fem!reader
GENRE : college, book shop, love at first sight, dramatic love confessions, wedding date, & a long (too long tbh) slow burn
WARNINGS : tom being sarcastic but cute, lots of fluff + corny dialogue, toxic parents and divorce, a light/tasteful make-out, cursing, drinking, trust issues, both reader and tom being bibliophiles (annotations & recommendations blah blah), etc.
WORD COUNT : 13.9k
A/N : mostly, inspired by an another great idea @venomsilk gave me <3 🧸🌤 🍰 dedicated to her. this is for her valentine’s celebration (a few months late, oops. but school / mental health checks happened so respectable hiatus on this fic) and i was so happy and excited to write it tbh ! i've been more into the romance ya novels lately so i really wanted to give this fic a lot of love and filled it with inspiration from books i've read. pls rec me some bc this summer i want beach reads. anyways adore and appreciate my venomsilk besthie so much. bear with me in this fic, but hope everyone enjoys ! also this header is originally from here! i just added the shredded border
𑁍 masterlist 𑁍
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Books. They were a common comfort you turned toward in times of stress, sadness or simply something to make the time go by on the bus ride to campus.
The small bookstore, that you often went to on the weekends, was unique. Most books were donated or found, then there was a small selection of brand new editions on the circular table when you entered the shop.
From the tall shelves filled with fictional adventures to the big, voluptuous, and green plants decorated around the front window, everything about this place was perfect. But, the dark, curly-haired cashier with a soft smile was a bonus to your shopping experience.
Every time you approached the counter, heat would suddenly radiate from your face and your heart fluttered when the boy rose his head to meet your eyes. Sometimes, you caught him reading a classic novel, other times, he was taking his time to finish homework when the store didn’t have but one or two people browsing.
His name is Tom, once overhearing one of his co-workers call him Tommy. You didn’t know anything about him, but it fit his charming yet approachable appearance. He wore a bunch of flannels with the sleeves rolled up and a solid color tee to match underneath, the occasional baseball tee or henley if the temperature in the store was too warm.
You didn’t mean to giggle the time you walked up to him and his cheeks were bright pink from how hot it was inside compared to the coming winter chill changing the fall weather.
Once or twice, you wondered if he remembered you. It sounded egotistical, questioning your importance to some stranger, but you couldn’t help it. He gave you recommendations or comments on the books you purchased, persuasive enough to burn a bigger hole in your pocket for decent literature.
The way he smiled and giggled when you had small talk, all from asking each other how your days had been. If it was a selling tactic he used; it was working.
Some days, romanticizing simple interactions like this made life less lonely and stressful. Tom was simply a crush; just another cute guy you could think about when you think about your future and the little fantasies in between your daydreams. It was nice for a bit and then you snapped back into reality, concentrating on your studies and looking forward to getting a degree. 
*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*
Tom took advantage of the lazy afternoon shift between his classes.
There were little to no customers, free time to study and complete silence unless he turned on the music over the speakers throughout the store. While the minimum wage didn’t seem worth it, Tom much more preferred working at his Aunt and Uncle’s bookstore than to getting ripped off from writing English essays for his “so-called” fraternity brothers. 
As he sat at his post behind the register, comfortably wearing his black Carhartt jacket, with his head lowered so his brown curls hung down. He unknowingly pouted as he made bright-red corrections on his rough draft for one of his final papers. Even though Tom had three to four other final papers of his own to do, he was doing essays for other people. 
His final paper for his Advanced English Romanticism class was way more important and frankly, all he wanted to do was pass with high grades, but earning money for next semester’s tuition by easily bullshitting Shakespeare’s literature theories or creating basic fictional, short stories for people who were barely sober 12 hours out of the day made his eyes wander to the rough drafts in his worn backpack.
The ink imprinted his, sloppy but small, handwriting on the side of his hand, and the end of the pen had a few bites when he was re-thinking his sentences and paraphrasing.
Suddenly, the bell above the entrance door rang, not phasing Tom to look up since people came in and out, but he glanced up when he noticed the familiar color of the jacket you wore. He had seen you a few times, wearing that same navy blue jacket with a red and black stripe going down the sleeves. 
A gloss filmed over his bright-brown eyes but looked away once you walked toward the back, admiring the books placed perfectly around the best-sellers table at the center of the store. You were the same, pretty girl who wandered around the stop for an hour, maybe two, seeking a book and nothing else. 
Each one that came to Tom’s counter was a different genre from a worn-out classic or a fairly used historical fiction– it intrigued him so, he’d list a few recommendations. After a bit of, what he considered, flirting, you left with a big smile until two or three days passed and there you were again, searching and reading in between the numerous aisles.
“Think fast!”
Tom already flinched, but a soccer ball thumped against the side of his head and he immediately pressed his palm on his temple.
“Jesus…” Tom hissed under his breath, his eyes giving a dirty look toward his friend, “A ‘hello’ would have sufficed.”
“What? You’re not happy to see me?” Harrison grinned, holding the ball under his arm.
Tom quickly retorted, “Why are you bothering me at work?” 
Harrison tilted his head.
 “Because I cherish every second we spend together…” He smiled before rolling his eyes, “What do you think? We have a meeting at the house in twenty minutes. C’mon, no one is even here, it’s your family’s store and you can leave when your manager is on his phone in the back office–”
Tom opened his mouth, but no words came out. His eyes shifted to you, past Harrison’s figure, watching as you flipped through another book on the same shelf; a hardcover version of The Picture of Dorian Gray.
Basic, but not a bad read. Tom thought.
“Who’s that?” Harrison asked, “She’s pretty.” He glanced over his shoulder, but you had no idea that the two boys were glaring as you concentrated on the text.
“No one.” Tom said in an annoyed tone, messily pushing his books and paper into his worn-out backpack.
The rosy pink tint of the apples of Tom’s cheeks made Harrison slowly smile, “Oh, Tommy. You’re squirming. Is she an ex? Hookup? Maybe TA?”
Tom sighed, “If we leave now, I’ll still help you with your sports management paper tonight.”
Harrison nodded, “Geez, she must be someone if you make that threat.”
You couldn’t help but lift your head at their commotion, watching Tom lead the way. Harrison trailing behind with his duffle strap on his shoulder and spinning the soccer ball in his hands, but your glances connected as they passed. Being the brother he is, Harrison announces, “He has a thing for you! Big ole crush! Do you have his number-”
Tom pushed on Harrison’s back hard, forceful enough to get him through the door. He wanted to avoid you noticing the bright tint red painted on the apples of his cheeks from the embarrassment he couldn’t escape.
Your heart was in your throat, a warmness spreading throughout your body from the attention. Half-smiling, you looked back down at the book in your shaking hands. While it wasn’t your first choice, this happening made you want to buy it to remember this moment.
*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*
The feeling of falling shocked your nerves, jerking your head up to make sure you were still in your seat. You hadn’t noticed you fell into a catatonic state, blankly staring at your laptop with little to no brain function. The brightness of the small screen gleamed against your face, making you blink your eyes a few more times before hearing the multiple cracks break in your back.
This was being a university student. More specifically, an English major.
As much as you loved a hardcover book, money thought differently. Instead of flipping through thick pages with a smell that comforted you, those same texts flashed on whatever device you could afford it on. 
The biggest misconception of being an English major is that you like to read everything and anything. Completely wrong. You liked to read the books that were like a warm hug after a rainy, cold day or made you weep until mascara burned the corners of your eyes. 
The details you paid attention to within the novels you kept close are the reason you loved to read. But, classics and sonnets that you were forced to analyze to write papers about what they mean bored you mindlessly, wondering why picking English was even an option when it’s just reading a language you know.
You turned to your tall bookshelf, perfectly placed in the corner of the room, and books of various sizes overflowed it like a garden. Some rest on the top of it after you ran out of room on your shelves.
Each had their own story as to how they were placed on the old wooden ledges; buying them brand new from bookstores, finding worn-out classics from the thrift store or they were collecting dust in your parent’s attic. But, lately most had come from the Joel & Anne’s bookstore–you blamed Tom.
Just as you wanted to pick up The Picture of Dorian Gray, a notification popped up in the corner of your laptop’s screen. It was a brief email from your professor, granting an extension to the midterm paper due for those who requested it and you couldn’t have been more revealed.
Thank God, you thought.
The pace of your heart slowed down, the cracking of your spine as you straighten your back at your desk.
Falling on top of the fluffy comforter of your bed, your body’s muscles relaxed. The tension disappeared from your chest as your heavy eyes fluttered close. In and out of sleep, the buzz of your phone caused your head to quickly rise. Half-awake, you leaned up to grab it then plummet back into the soft sheets.
“Since there’s an extension for your paper, does that mean I’ll see you at the Delta Epsilon ABC party tomorrow?” Your best friend, Lillian, texted.
“ABC?” You typed with a furrow brow.
“Anything But Clothes.” She replied with a tongue emoji.
Reluctant, you wanted to say “no” and take the extended due date seriously, but from how stressed out the paper was making you, a party didn’t sound like a bad idea.
You sealed your lips while typing, but once you sent “What should I wear?”
After Lillian pitched a few last-minute ideas, you exited from your text messages then placed your phone on the bedside table. Rubbing your dry eyes, you get back up to turn off your lamp and other lights. 
As you stroll to the desk, you trace your finger over the trackpad of the laptop to exit from the email. Surprisingly, you forgot about the already-opened browser of the book you’ve been hunting down for your paper. You were so exhausted, you spaced out in those few minutes to probably forget about it.
Shakespearean plays were the subject of your paper, researching for hours on end about this ancient man’s entire collection and existence. His missing years, his creation of words we still use today, anything that pinpointed a significance in the English language was stored somewhere in the paper your fingers cramped to write for the past week.
*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*
Tom downed the last Red Bull from his mini fridge, compressing the aluminum can in his hand then throwing it in trash. There it sat with the other empty cans and overflow of crumbled drafts.
He couldn’t remember the last time he blinked today yet his fingers were typing any of the words coming up in his head. The sixty bucks he was being paid for it was his only motivation to finish the last lines about the rise of the Roman Empire.
Shockingly, it wasn’t as difficult as told to him– but usually, it’s the people who don’t pay attention in their classes that find it hard and in their way. At least if he did it, there were rewards other than a high grade.
As Tom pressed tab to indent, he thought of how you smiled at him. He hoped it was him and not Harrison being cocky from what he said. He pondered what would happen if he stayed, walking back to you and saying that his attraction was true. But, Tom was more confident in his mind and he couldn’t actually imagine seeing you after how embarrassed he felt from Harrison’s announcement.
“Hey!” Harrison said as he knocked on Tom’s open door, expecting nothing but what he saw– Tom’s ass glued to his desk chair and the bright, white screen of his laptop staring back at him.
Tom turned his head, rolling his eyes at the blonde, blue-eyed devil, “Come here to make any of my other of my secrets known to the public?” He continued to jot down any last corrections on the paper he’d been working on for hours.
Harrison chuckled, jumping onto Tom’s bed, “It’s not like you were going to say anything to her if I didn’t, now she knows. ‘You’re welcome’ would be the correct answer, Mr. English smartass.” 
“See, you’re saying ‘you’re welcome’ when I didn’t ask for your help in the first place. She’s just a girl that comes to the store a lot and I just…” Tom shrugged, tossing his pen down, “I happen to notice her.”
“Happen to notice?” Harrison scoffed. “Dude, you were staring at her so hard at her that I thought your eyes were going to pop out. Blink once in a while so if this girl does notice, she doesn’t think you’re creepy.”
Tom rolled his eyes, “She’s not some girl, her name is Y/N.”
Fuck. Tom thought, now realizing how much he corrected Harrison out of habit.
Harrison instantly smirked, “So, you know her name too? What else are you hiding so I can brief her in on it… but more subtle this time.”
“H, why are you in my room at one in the morning?” Tom asked with furrowed his brows.
“You’re going to the ABC party, right? You’ll be there, participating for once, and having fun. Maybe getting high or laid will loosen you up. ”
“I can’t, I have these papers to finish for the guys who will be partying downstairs all night and if I’m lucky, I can get paid double if I ask them for their fee while they’re drunk.” Tom smirked.
“C’mon. One party! It’s a few hours out of the whole semester… Before you have to go back home for the holidays and do nothing but watch Christmas movies and read books for pleasure.” 
Tom replied with silence.
“Maybe you could invite Y/N. It could be a nice romantic gesture that your books talk about, right?”
“So, invite her to a party where everyone is wearing anything but clothes and shit-faced within the first hour.” Tom took a pregnant pause, “Yeah, I’ll pass on that.”
Harrison knew not to pry anymore, not planning to give Tom shit for wanting to do well in school. Unlike most of the trust-fund raised kids, Tom paid his dues from paycheck to paycheck. Maintaining high grades wasn’t only for his pride, but his academic scholarship that discounted his tuition. 
He admired Tom for his natural work ethic despite it interfered with his social life. Luckily the other brothers saw Tom as an asset, but it was for their own selfish reasons. Harrison was a month younger than Tom, but still felt protective of him as if he were an older brother.
“Okay, well. I have a ‘Beware of Dog’ sign if you want to use it as shorts tonight.” Harrison winked before leaving to his room.
Tom chuckled, but his smile slowly turned into a frown. The desperate need to earn cash for his two semesters’ tuition consumed him the past four months, realizing that this term was practically done and he had done nothing else but work.
*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*✭˚·゚✧*·゚* 
You could say that having caution tape wrapped around your body was ironically hazardous. The plastic was constricting, too afraid to bend over or you may fall and never get back up. While it was cute in thought, you looked in the mirror from head to toe and knew this could end in disaster. 
With too many intrusive thoughts, you were about to change back into your grey sweatpants and grab an oversized shirt from the dryer. But, just as you took a last glance at your reflection, Lillian came right through the front door and sported a dress made out of bright green and white condom wrappers fastened together with tape and safety pins. 
It was totally Lillian.
You furrowed your eyebrow, “Did you walk all the way here wearing that?” 
But she ignored your comment from the stun of seeing you actually wearing a costume.
Lillian gasped, “You look hot! That caution tape was a good call.”
“I feel like this tape is going to fall off at any second.” You groaned, grabbing your college t-shirt from the basket on top of the dryer, but Lillian held your wrist.
“What are you doing?” She retorted. 
You sighed, “Changing into something that lets me breathe and walk.”
“Oh, don’t be a party pooper. It’s only a few hours.” She said as she walked to the mirror, fixing her strawberry-blonde waves. She pushed them from the front of her body then behind her shoulders, wondering if the prominence of her collarbones made a difference.
“A few hours of guys asking me what’s underneath this caution tape.” You mumbled under my breath, and she moved you in front of the mirror.
“Y/N, I made a promise to you at the beginning of the semester to make sure you have an amazing last year of college… and I always keep my promises.” She said, her head resting on your shoulder as the two of you glanced at your absurd outfits  in the mirror, “And you look too good to not go out...”
You chuckled, “Are you pouting?”
“Depends, does it guilt trip you want to go to the party more?” Lillian jeered, giving you a light squeeze around your waist.
You scrunch your nose, “Only a little.”
The two of you pre-gamed with a fruity, alcoholic seltzer, which barely gave any buzz, then ventured downstairs to the Uber waiting in front of your apartment building.
As Lillian snapped photos of herself from the lighting of the warm streetlights passing by, you noticed Joel & Ann’s bookstore in the darkness. It made you think of what Tom might have been doing tonight, wondering what his life was like outside the store.
You blushed thinking back at the fond moment of his friend shouting he liked you, keeping your head up for most of the day. As harmless as it was, it lingered in your mind and turned into scenarios of how you would enlighten that comment. 
Would you make the first move? or has he already and you didn’t notice? Overthinking didn’t help, but you needed to come up with something good to respond to it whenever you’d see him again.
Once you arrive on Fraternity Row, the Delta Epsilon house was anything but quiet. Everyone was following the rules of the party, wearing anything but clothes in different and creative ways.
A brunette passing by wore a makeshift dress, the sparkling Christmas wrap tailored with tape to fit around her slim body. Another guy wore paper-mache shorts made from Superman comic book pages— even a couple of girls sporting the same outfit idea as Lillian which didn’t make her happy.
You hold back a laugh, “Well, at least your wrappers are green. Hers are purple… and Trojan.” 
“Ugh, now I’m gonna blend in.” She pouted her glossed lips, “C’mon, let’s go see where the drinks are.”
The music played loud enough that you could feel the bass vibrating your teeth. Lillian hooked your arm around hers as she pulled you toward the bar set up in the corner of the dim lit room.
Everyone managed to commit to the theme of tonight, impressed by the sustainability people reached like wearing a dress made of streamers with your university’s colors or pants made out of cardboard beer boxes. The surprises and creativity seemed limitless tonight, but there was no one who caught your attention.
“Are you looking for someone?” Lillian asked as she poured brown liquor into her plastic cup, spilling a bit on the counter when she shifted the pour into your cup on the counter.
“Kind of.” You mumbled, “You know that guy at the bookstore that I talk about? Tom?”
Lillian giggled, “Oh. The guy you practically stalk.”
“I don’t stalk him.”
“Yeah, right. You’ve just never spoken to him other than giving him money for a book and your literature small talk.” She joked, but it sort of hit a nerve. You almost wanted to prove to her that you could talk to him, you were just nervous as to what to say past your total amount and tax.
“Okay, but you don’t have to put it that way.” You pouted, but she handed you a drink.
“Well, you can forget about bookstore boy, and we can have a little fun tonight. Cheers!” She diverted your attention to your cups, pushing them together before she took a long sip.
You watched her, but didn’t drink with her. Instead your eyes shifted around the excited crowd, but no luck in finding your crush with brown curls and shiny brown eyes to match. You twisted your lips and took a small sip of your bitter beverage, squeezing your eyes shut as it burned the inside of your throat.
“What is that?” You hissed.
“I don’t know, but it gets you loose.” Lillian jokes, hugging you quickly before she pulled you to where everyone was dancing… or what could be described as dancing. It was more like drunken movement between strangers while flashed by neon colors in sequences. 
Trying to dance with Lillian in a restraint costume didn’t help until there were two taps on your shoulder. You quickly turned around, acquainted with Tom’s blonde friend— just dressed in shorts made out of the big cloth from Twister.
“Hey! You’re the cute girl from the bookshop, right?” Harrison chuckled.
“Yeah! And you’re the best friend of the cute guy at the bookstore?” You confidently said, raising your eyebrows.
Harrison shared the same expression, “Cute?” He smirked, “I bet he’d love to hear that if he were down here… Hey, why don’t you do him a favor and try to get him down here to have fun.”
“Why? Where is he?” You asked over the music.
“Upstairs in his room, working on his papers… C’mon, I bet he’d be happy to see you.”
Harrison winked at you before turning back to the girl he was dancing with, tipping his head back to down his beer. When searching for Lillan, you saw her dance with some of your shared friends by the unlit fireplace. 
*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*
With the door cracked open, Tom listened to the muffled music below as well as the occasional conversation passing by to find an empty room. The bright light from the lamp on his desk shined against his paper. Although you remained silent, Tom took a quick sip of his to-go coffee and blinked his tired, dry eyes a few times. 
After two light knocks, Tom assumed it was Harrison, once again, asking him to come downstairs, but instead his heart shot up to his throat when he saw you standing in his doorframe. He was even more surprised seeing caution tape wrapped around your body like a tacky, shiny dress.
“Hey! Hey, nice to see you… especially with your new look.” Tom jeered.
You giggled, “I could say the same, never really see the bottom half of you.”
The two of you shared a warm laugh before Tom shyly asked, “What- What are you doing here?” 
“My friend sort of invited me at the last second, then your friend told me that I should come up here and try to urge you to come downstairs… possibly in a costume.” You trailed.
Tom licked his lips, “I appreciate it, but I’m working on some papers tonight. I want to get them done before tomorrow morning”
“A few papers over a party in your own fraternity?”
He hummed, “Well, papers I write for ten dollars a page. Paid in cash or credit… usually.” Tom smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair.
“Do I even want to know the other options?” You joked, slowly walking further into the room.
His blush was hard for him to hide, so he lowered his head down to hide the rosiness on his cheeks when he stood up to stretch. As Tom reached his arms over his head, the end of his shirt lifted a bit and you could see his v-line that disappeared past the band of his Calvin Klein boxers. 
Making you blush in return, you rub the back of your neck and look at some of the posters lazily taped on his dull, baby blue-colored walls. Shockingly, not one model from Playboy or Sports Illustrated was staring back at you in a tiny string bikini, rather there were posters of his favorite bands, a few classical authors by his bookcase and distressed movie posters of The Empire Strikes Back and Jaws above his full bed.
“Sorry, it’s kind of a mess.” Tom tossed a few t-shirts on his bed in his hamper by the door.
He said that, but it was probably the cleanest guy’s room you ever saw. Besides the clothes scattered around, the bed was made and his desk was fairly organized. There was even a trash can–with a trash bag to line it.
“Mess? I wish my room looked like this half the time.” You jeered, walking over to his bookcase, “A bookcase says a lot about someone to me.”
Tom chuckled, leaning on his desk, “And what does mine tell you?”
You awkwardly sat down on the end of his bed, trying to cross your leg over the other. You tried not to show that the plastic coiled around your body was uncomfortable, but one wrong move and you thought that you may expose yourself to Tom at any second.
“You okay?” He asked, “I don’t want to assume, but you look very tense.”
“Wow, it’s that noticeable.” You joked back, Tom chuckling in return. “Yeah, it wasn’t my idea to come tonight so, I got stuck wearing this.” You added, running your hand over the material.
He could see the pout on your face, maybe even a bit of embarrassment, so he suggested, “Do you want to change? I can give you something to wear. Not as much plastic, but more comfortable.” He joked.
Your face heated as you stood up, watching him pull clothes from his drawers. He grabbed a dark-blue Tottenham sweatshirt with a faded logo and baggy, gray sweatpants with your university logo embroidered by the hip.
“Here, hope these are okay.”
“Trust me, anything but this dress is fine.” You grinned, taking them from him. Your hand grazed his, making him gulp as you pulled the clothes to you, “Do you mind if I change in here?”
Tom raised his eyebrows, not realizing he wasn’t responding until he nodded, “Yeah! Yeah, I can just turn around.” He reassured, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes searched around his room, trying to fixate on any small object.
Like the vinyl player in the corner on top of the rack, something he bought out of being impulsive. At the time, his dad had given him some old records that he had found in the attic from spring cleaning, music that was popular when he was Tom’s age. Tom stopped listening to them after–
“Well, I certainly look the part of being a frat dude.” You jeered, turning for him.
“I think you look pretty...”
Way to sound creepy, Tom thought.
“Pretty nice!” He quickly added, trying to save himself from embarrassment.
You smiled at his shy compliment before glancing at the papers scattered around his desk, “So, what are you working on?”
“Uh, themes in Frankenstein. It’s actually my final paper.”
You arched your eyebrow, but admired how he had three different drafts and all of them were marked in red. As you leaned further down to read, Tom quickly shuffled the papers, “It’s not really my best. I’ve been through every book talking about Mary Shelley and her reason for this book... It’s pretty scandalous if you ask me.”
God. He was so dorky, it almost made him charming.
Just as you were going to say your joking comment, the music got louder downstairs and you two could feel the heavy vibration of the bass through the carpet.
“Is your paper the only reason you’re up here by yourself?”
“Well, technically you’re up here with me so, am I really by myself?” Tom shrugged.
You chuckled, “Don’t deflect.”
Tom licked his lips, letting out a long sigh, “I just need enough cash to cover tuitions, and saving up for grad school too. My family has gotten tied up in money and my friend, Harrison, said that he could help me be in a frat and I could make more connections. So, I’m not really here to have fun, more like just doing what I can to make some money and add to my resume.” 
“I know we just met, but… Can I give you some advice?” You sighed.
He naively nodded, his eyes turning glassy.
“You need to have some fun while you’re still in college.” You giggled, not meaning to sound mean, but you didn’t have to touch Tom to know he was a tense guy.
Tom responded with a nervous chuckle, “I’ve had… fun. I have fun. This party theme just isn’t really for me.” He protested.
“Well, I can’t disagree with you there.” You grinned, glancing at your now-cozy outfit, “Then what do you want to do tonight? What’s your fun thing?... other than reading the Mary Shelley scandal.”
His eyes searched around the room, then hummed, “It would be nice to have some peace and quiet… maybe work on my papers–”
You interpreted, “Okay, no, no. You’re not working on any papers, it’s about having fun. So, let’s go somewhere you think is fun.”
He smirked which made you think that he had a good idea, rather he said, “We can go to the bookstore.”
Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea.
You leaned against his desk, “Really? How?”
“My aunt and uncle own it.” He smirked.
“Ah. So, you’re like a bookstore nepotism baby. How lucky.” You grinned, cringing at your own jokes on the inside. But, it’s not like flirting was either of your fortes.
“Some kids get into movie premieres and have luxury cars, I have books and the cat that hangs in the front window until he goes back to his owners across the street.” 
“I always wondered if that was your guys’ cat.” You smiled.
Tom nodded, “His name is Milo and he loves eating our plants and sleeping on the classic novels.” 
You shared another light laugh before you said, “What are we waiting for? Get your jacket on.”
*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*
Once you took a step outside the house, the night breeze felt cool against your sweaty skin. The fresh air was a relief to your lungs once you walked out of the humid-filled frat house, like you had forgotten how clean it could smell outside. 
Although the bookstore was a few blocks away from campus, Tom made you comfortable as he made you. Both of you weren’t sure if there were feelings, but there could be since your interaction isn’t ending with you leaving him behind a counter.
Tall street lights guided the way, and the only people passing were stumbling from the few bars lining your college town. There was little small talk between you two on the way, but Tom stopped in front of a convenience store, one he frequently went to if he wanted something to snack on during his shifts.
He walked toward the door, opening it, “You want anything?” He asked.
You nodded, walking in as he held the door open. The two of you walked into the small store with white walls and bright lighting over all the aisles. He walked around the chips and candy, heading to the big freezer with the familiar ice cream brands around the case.
The two of you gazed over it, smiling at the variety of choices like two kids. You couldn’t remember the last time you picked from the freezer– probably before you were even given an allowance. You were seeing another side of Tom, one that was a bit goofy when the stress faded from his character.
“Which one do you want?... I think I’m gonna get a cookie sandwich.” He hummed.
“No way. The strawberry shortcakes with the oats? Or the gelatos? Way better options.” You giggled.
He chuckled at your wit, “Okay, you pick for me. I pick for you. Does that sound fair?”
“Hmm…” You smirked, sticking your hand out, “Deal.”
Tom smiled as he shook yours, both your fingers trailing when you pushed open the glass case.
“Okay. Turn around…” You said, circling your finger to signal him to face back.
The curly brunette rolled his eyes with a small smile on his face, taking a slow turn around with his arms crossed. He stared at the rack of colorful packed snacks, reading the brands and flavors.
You grunted as you shoved the sliding window, then grabbed an ice cream bar of your choice. Putting it behind your back, you tell him, “Okay, your turn.”
Tom smiled to himself, seeing you try to conceal your ice cream bar under the hoodie as you headed toward the counter. He could hear your exchange with the cashier before Tom grabbed an ice cream bar out of the freezer, quickly closing it and hiding his pick behind his back.
“I hope you got me something good.” You teased, facing him and your hands behind your back holding the plastic convenience bag..
He sweetly chuckled again, “I think I did okay… I think you should be worried.”
“Ah, are you hard to please, Tom?” You continued to jeer with him.
All he could do was turn pink, chuckling out of embarrassment like an elementary boy in school. There was a glimmer in his brown eyes and you weren’t sure if it was from the bright lights in the store, but it made your heart pang at how innocent and sweet he appeared.
The two of you walked outside, sitting on the bench under the awning of the convenient store. There was a space between you as the bags crinkled when both of you reached into them. Counting down, you pulled out your ice cream bars for one another and it left you both with smiles and light laughter.
“Great minds think alike.” Tom grinned.
Both of you held the same ice cream bar, still exchanging the treats and opening them. As you ate on the bench, there was silence– but it was comforting silence. Better than surround sound music and drinks being spilled everywhere, preferring the sound of crickets and watching some stray cats walk by the alleys.
You tried to prevent any drops of ice cream getting on the hoodie he let you borrow, leaning out as you bit down and it made him chuckle.
“It’s okay. It’s an old hoodie.”
“Yeah, but, I don’t want to be a slob.” You grinned, trying to ignore how nervous you felt.
“Here, I got it.” He said, leaning over to wipe your chin with a napkin.
You glanced into his eyes again as he came close, holding your breath.
“There, now you are a presentable member of society again.” He jeered, putting the napkin in his wrapper before tossing it in the bin next to the bench.
The two of you stand up together, pulling and adjusting your clothes before continuing the venture to the bookstore. Street lights shined down on the red brick sidewalk, and a few cars passed by as they headed toward the center of town as you both walked further out from the noise of the bars and partying. 
Chirping from the crickets was peaceful and the rest of the way was lit by the full moon, making you glance at the glowing orb high above the clouds and surrounded by the stars. The shine reflected off your eyes, smiling at the breathtaking sight but unknowing to you, Tom was glaring at you.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” You asked.
“Yeah.” He trailed, not taking his eyes off you as he shyly grinned.
Tom wished he had spoken to you sooner, not knowing how to express right then and there how he had some sort of feelings for you. 
You turned back to him, “Are you okay?”
Embarrassed, he quickly nodded, “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Great.”
You grinned back at him, “Good.” you said before the two of you continued to walk to the bookstore.
*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*
The soft warm glow shined on Tom’s back as his keys jingled when he unlocked the front door.
“You got it?” You ask him, watching him turn the key both ways until there was a click.
“Yeah, it’s pretty old so-” 
Tom pushed enough of his weight with his shoulder against the door, opening the seal the door created from how cold it was outside. He half-smiled before walking into the dark room and you followed close behind him.
With how many times you’d been in this store, you could bet Tom that you knew the layout better than him. You carefully stepped around the racks of books, leading to the counter before you heard a loud thump.
“Ow!” Tom hissed under his breath, instantly rubbing his knee from cutting the corner too hard.
“Are you okay?” You giggled.
“Lovely.” He groaned, rubbing away against his soon-to-be bruised skin.
He turned on the reading lamp on the counter, the warm glow against his freckled skin. You noticed how he was able to smile with his eyes, the crinkling next to them when he laughed or smiled. Although you didn’t mean to observe that, it was hard to not notice. He radiated some kind of shine in the way he carried himself– at least from what you gathered.
“So, I’m sure you have some weird stuff behind here, huh?” You teased him, squatting down to look at the shelves.
“Nothing weird, but I hoard books… without telling anyone.” He admitted in a low tone, scratching the nape of his neck.
There was a collection of books down here filling up two rows, most of them had bright tabs on the sides to indicate some annotations between pages. The books ranged from recent autobiographies and novels to ones with broken spines and the names of classic writers on the covers.
You came back up, “I think you have a problem.” You jeered, smiling at him.
“As if being interested in literature is a problem.” 
“...Touché.” You nodded, “Do you like working here?”
“Yeah. I guess.” He trailed, “It kills time, it’s quiet.”
“As opposed to going home?” You asked out of curiosity. He was sort of like a guessing game. One clue led to another, intriguing you as you went down this mystery path of a person.
“Uh, I don’t… I don’t go home anymore.” He nervously chuckled, “Haven’t been for a while.”
Heat burned his cheeks and neck, not realizing he was venting in the moment.
“Sorry to hear that.” You gently replied and sensed his discomfort as he looked down.
Tom hummed, “It’s alright. I feel less lonely here.” He shrugged, picking at his fingernails before looking into your eyes.
“Well, now you have me so… it’s a little less lonely than that.” You smiled, scrunching your nose. “...and that may have been the corniest thing I’ve said ever.”
“Yeah, just a little.” Tom nodded, and a sweet chuckle followed, “But, thanks.”
He had a bit of a twinkle in his caramel-toned eyes, and his jaw was incredibly sharp. When he looked away, he’d clench his jaw and you noticed how tense he seemed.
Tom smiled, blushing a bit before he pushed the book on top of the counter toward him. It was an old copy of Pride and Prejudice that he found on a top shelf a few weeks ago. He re-read it three times, and each time felt like a different experience. He rarely annotated, but Tom genuinely loved reading this book and wanted to write down any thought he had about it.
“A favorite?” You asked him.
“Can you tell?” He chuckled, passing it to you.
You skimmed the pages, running your fingers over the different colored post-its sticking out. His handwriting was a bit small, but you could make out what he noted and you found it incredibly cute. You smiled to yourself as you read through them, and Tom hoped there was nothing embarrassing in there– not that there would be but he was already nervous around you.
Just as you got to the last page, a picture fell out and you turned it over to its front. The frame was cardboard with the Disney logo on it and the picture was of Tom and his parents. Sporting a Mickey Mouse baseball cap, he showed a huge smile and held a melting ice cream. His mom and dad were smiling too, his mom with her arm around his small structure and Tom gulped.
“Are these your parents?” You asked.
“Yeah, I was wondering where I left that picture.” He smiled, taking it from you.
You watched him grin at it, but the smile slowly faded the longer he glanced. It didn’t seem so much reminiscing, but feeling more sad. He didn’t want to get down on himself, but he put the picture underneath the counter.
“It’s cute. My parents never took me to those kinds of places growing up, but I was never the Disney princess lover either.” You pouted. 
He chuckled, “What? You didn’t want a Disney prince? Something like Prince Eric?”
You hummed, “You do resemble a bit of Prince Phillip.”
Tom furrowed his eyebrows, crossing his arms, “The boring one?”
“Okay, okay. Maybe Prince Charming… you look like you can treat a girl to a dance,” you teased.
“The one time I slow danced was at my prom in year 13 and I remember stepping on her feet most of the night.” He told, trying to deflect your compliment
You rolled your eyes, “Oh, please. Now you’re being dramatic like a prince.” You grinned at him. 
Hesitantly, you moved your hand toward his face and pushed back the curls laying on his forehead. Your fingers carded to the back of his head, feeling his soft coarse hair and his brown eyes sparkled. It was a bold first move, but you wanted to know if this intense crush was too good to be true.
All this passes through Tom’s head is “do it”, his instincts scream. Kiss her.
You brought your hand back to his cheek, and you brushed your thumb over his bottom lip before leaning in to kiss him. Tom slowly moved his hands up your sides, pulling you closer to him as the two of you continued to makeout. He lightly pushed you against the counter, your bodies pressed together as he tasted your cherry-flavored lip balm.
With your foreheads against one anothers, Tom pulled away to take a breath, but it caused you both to let out this warm giggle. Just as you were about to kiss again, there was a sudden knock on the door along with the doorknob jiggling.
You quickly ducked under the counter while Tom stood there, trying to fix his hair as well as rub the lip balm off his mouth. He saw his uncle walk through the door, turning on the lights and Tom’s embarrassment flooded his body.
“I thought we were getting robbed. The silent alarm went off a few minutes ago.” His uncle told him, pretty light-hearted once he saw it was Tom.
“No, it was just me.” Tom gulped, glancing down at you hiding under the counter.
“Good, good. Why are you here so late? Your mom told me you had some party tonight.” His uncle trailed, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“It was getting… loud and I just left to get some air. Work on some papers.”
You could audibly hear his uncle sigh, then say, “Is this because of… the divorce?”
Tom sealed his lips, it wasn’t what he wanted to talk about right now– especially since you were unknowingly in the room. Although divorce was a common thing, it was different going through when you’re already grown up and that was Tom’s struggle. He knew his parents had underlying issues, but he didn’t think he would get sat down and told his parents would separate their lives then and now.
“I know, it’s hard. But, you have to talk to someone about this. We don’t want you… hiding away, missing out on opportu-”
“I’m not, I just… wanted to be alone.” Tom shrugged, trying to grin and bear it.
His uncle didn’t want to get more into it since Tom was still going through it, but he nodded.
“Alright, make sure to lock up when you’re done. See you tomorrow, kid.” He sweetly said before he walked back out, the bell above the door ringing. Tom was only left with a bright red face, and a sudden racing in his heart. It’s like he realized how lonely he had made himself to be rather than people avoiding him altogether. 
Coming from under the counter, you dusted off your shirt at first. You didn’t want to immediately face Tom, sensing there was a bit of awkwardness created. He rubbed the back of his curls, but you finally broke the silence.
“Sorry, my lip balm kind of… got all over your lips.” You joked, taking your thumb to wipe the smudge of gloss from his chin.
Tom smiled, but nodded, “Well, I’m more sorry you had to hear that, but it’s no big deal. I don’t know why my family has so many issues.”
“I think they’re just genuinely worried about you. I mean, you don’t seem much of the talking type.” You confessed.
“It’s ironic. They don’t ask about any of this stuff until I just don’t say anything at all. Maybe, I just want to be left alone and be able to think about how the only two stable people in my life just choose to not be with each other anymore.” He trailed, trying to humor himself.
You could tell he’d been hurt by people before, but this was something he was expecting. It was still shocking, but he chose to close everyone off. 
Tom thought if he didn’t have to talk about these feelings, they’d go away. But, by telling you, basically a complete stranger, how he felt— his hurt was more on the surface than he thought.
“Well, you don't deserve to feel this way.” You told him with honesty, rubbing his tense shoulder, “If I can promise you one thing.”
There was a bit of comfort in that. At least someone acknowledging his feelings over their own.
“Thanks.” He grinned.
“Please, you’re one cigarette away from being Holden Caulfield. I felt like I needed to step in now… because he was the worst.”
Tom rolled his eyes, “He witnessed worse.”
“Well, luckily he’s a fictional character. Meanwhile, you need to worry about how you feel, and not be so… scared of thinking the world is going to get you.” You trailed, running your hand from your shoulder to the back of his curls.  
*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*
A week and a half breezed by and all you did was hang out with Tom at the bookstore, the library, or his room at his fraternity house. Occasionally, Harrison would pop in, trying to tease him, but also try to get to know you since Tom cared about you. It was actually a bit cute the way Harrison would pinch at Tom’s cheek, trying to make him flustered in your presence. You could tell he cared about him too.
Once your finals were finished and Tom was paid for his essays, it was nice to hang around the bookstore without the added tension. You could hang out for hours and read books in the cozy corner of the store, near the cat by the window and the sunlight would kiss against your skin. Sometimes Tom would get lost in the mesmerizing scene–like being with you meant more than fate. Something like he read in novels.
The sun was starting to set when the two of you entered the pizzeria where Harrison worked. Both of you nodded your heads over at him behind the counter before finding a booth by the window.
“Look at him in his cute apron.” You teased, sliding into the booth.
“Trust me, he thinks it’s a magnet for girls. I wouldn’t let him know.” Tom chuckled.
Although you and Tom were having a fun time, you hadn’t talked about the kiss you shared. Not that it wasn’t on both your minds, but felt better left unsaid than having to figure out what’s going on between you two and ruining this blossoming friendship. It already took long enough to talk to each other outside the bookstore, neither of you wanted to taint that.
“So, do you have any plans for the weekend?” You asked him.
Before Tom could answer, Harrison slid next to him already sporting a cheeky smile and wiped some flour on Tom’s cheek from his apron.
“What are you two gossiping about, huh? Or just miss me?” Harrison winked at you, but Tom wiped the flour off his face.
“We just wanted to grab a slice.” Tom cheeks tinted pink, feeling as if he’s being embarrassed by his dad.
“Calm down, Tommy.” Harrison smiled, “You’re too easy to mess with sometimes.” Harrison jokingly retorted.
You giggled, “Don’t worry, I’m gonna go and order.” You tell them before getting up, heading to the counter.
The two boys watched you walk up to the counter, beaming at the cashier as you made small talk before ordering. Tom’s look glistened, sparkling when he kept his eyes on you and Harrison snickered at his doe-like gaze.
“So, you guys made out and nothing happened?” 
It was no lie that Tom regretted venting Harrison–moments like this reminded him of that.
Tom gulped, “I think what’s going on is fine.” He lied.
“Fine?” Harrison asked, “You’ve been crushing on her for weeks and she obviously likes you too.”
“You can’t know that.” Tom trailed.
“She’s been to the bookstore everyday to hang out with you, going out to dinner, spending time at the house and you know no girl likes hanging out there, look at the bathroom for God’s sake, it’s disgusting. No woman willingly stays there unless she’s basically in love.” Harrison explained.
Tom nodded in disagreement, “I don’t think she… likes me. I’m not gonna mess up just talking to her.”
“You’re not. You just need to figure out how to make the right move.” Harrison stated before quickly asking, “Hey, you got invited to Steven’s wedding, right?”
Steven was one of the alumni of the frat house and a close friend of both the guys. Tom was a “baby-faced” freshman when they met and was still teased to this day for looking so young.
“Yeah. I did, but I don’t know if I’m going. It’s kind of far.” Tom trailed, scratching his nail against the table.
Harrison smiled, “No, you should go and Y/N is your plus one. Bam, matchmaking.”
Tom rolled his eyes, “Yeah because a two hour car trip would really make me less awkward and weird.”
“You need to be a little hopeful. It’s not like your strangers anymore. You guys hang out at the store for hours with no problems. C’mon, she’d love it. It’s a nice countryside wedding and lots of our friends will be there so it’s not like you’ll be the odd one out. Introduce her, and maybe find some romantic spot to makeout, huh?”
Tom thought Harrison was a bit in over his head, but trying to make him see the other side of his pessimistic thoughts. Tom liked you, you like Tom. The problem was finding the moment to say that outlook to each other.
He twisted his lips, “How do I even ask that?”
“You’ll know how to say it when the moment comes… which seems like right now.” Harrison smirked.
As you walked back with a table timer in your hand, already wanting it to vibrate with your order since you were starving. You slipped into the booth, noticing both boys getting quiet which made you giggle.
“Am I interrupting something private?” You teased them.
“Actually, we were talking about a wedding we’re going to next weekend.” Harrison immediately said.
Tom wanted to sink into his seat.
“A wedding? Aw, that’s nice.” You smiled, “Who’s wedding?”
“Our friend, Steven, is getting married and I think Tom wanted to ask you something…” Harrison insisted.
Tom’s eyes widened, but Harrison quickly said, “I gotta get back to work. I’ll bring your food right out.” He flashed a cheery smile, something Tom wanted to slap off his face if he could, before leaving you two to talk– more like Tom improving what to say.
The feeling could be compared to dropping a baby into the deep end, trying to teach them how to swim and all Tom could do is internally panic.
You thanked Harrison before facing toward Tom’s pink-tinted face, and you tilted your head with a cheeky smile, “Something to ask me?”
He sighed but nervously smiled, “Not to impose, but… I was wondering if you wanted to… go with me? To the wedding. I know it’s last minute and all, but I would really like you to go… with me.”
You giggled at his shy question, “I’d love to go with you, Tom. It sounds like fun.”
There was a relief in the air for Tom, not thinking you would accept so quickly and with an assuring smile.
“ Really?” He still asked.
“I don’t know why you assume the worst of me. Maybe being your wedding date will change that. Weddings always give people a bit of optimism” You chuckled, tilting your head at his shy expression.
A light chuckle left his lips, “Remember, optimism isn’t my thing. Then our personality equal us out.” He joked.
“Exactly why I’m the perfect wedding date. I make the conversations and you hold your drink and nod. It’ll be adorable.” You grinned back as heat radiated from your cheeks.
Tom can’t hold back his smile once you look out the window. His eyes traced your jaw then up your perfect cheekbones, trailing to your eyes as the streetlight reflected off the irises. He feels that moment again where he could confess everything he felt for you right there in front of everyone at the pizza place, a small amount of courage whispering in his ear to do it. Just to say it out loud.
“Here’s your complimentary garlic bread, love birds.” Harrison interrupted as he placed the plastic basket on the center of the table.
“Thank you for your incredible service.” You jeered at the cheeky blonde.
Tom laughed off his sudden thought, nodding at Harrison before you two started talking about the wedding plan since you were going now. The rest of the night was hanging out and eating together, talking about the future with classic rock playing over the old speakers in the restaurant.
There was a coziness that radiated the more you were vulnerable, even showing through being more relaxed while sitting in the booths. You felt like you could tell him anything and for once not have to think twice about what you revealed or said. No one could compare to Tom and you wish you could tell him that. 
*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*✭˚·゚✧*·゚* 
A breeze brushed past your face as you waited outside your apartment with your bags. You were sat on the front step, waiting for the two boys to pick you up on this nice summer day. Tempted to text them for a time of arrival, the door opened behind you and you glanced up to see Lillian.
“I went through the back only for your roommates to tell me you’re already waiting outside. I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks.” She jeered as she sat next to you on the stoop.
You sighed, “Sorry, I’ve been hanging out with Tom.”
She chuckled, “Of course. I’m not surprised. It’s been this way ever since you ditched me at the party-”
“I didn’t mean to di-”
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Lillian giggled, putting her hand on top of your knee, “I know you really like him.”
“I don’t… like him that much.”
“I can’t remember the last time someone could actually get your attention away from books or studying so, I like to call it fate that you met at the party.” She teased and scrunched her nose.
You rolled her eyes before turning your head, seeing the car come down the street and you quickly stand up. As you brush off the back of your pants, Lillian picks up one of your bags and the two of you slowly walk up to the curb. Once the car stopped, the two boys got out and Tom immediately greets you with his pearly smile.
“Hey Tom, Harrison,  this is my friend, Lillian.” You introduced them, gesturing your head.
“Hey there.” She greeted both of them, moving her hair behind her shoulders, “Don’t let anything happen to her.”
“We promise.” Tom grinned, lowly chuckling before he took your bag she gave to him.
After giving a goodbye hug Lillian, you slid into the backseat of the car. You sat on the left side so you could sit diagonally from Tom’s view, already creating terribly awkward scenarios in your head for what this two hour drive may be like.
What if we don’t talk at all? What if I’m in over my head? What if this isn’t real or what I thought? What if this whole trip was going to be a big mistake?
Tom was pondering the same, but he tried his best not to doubt his own feelings. Especially after the, what Harrison would call, pep talk he gave him on the way to your building. Nevertheless, it made Tom especially when he already knew he was being incredibly shy, but knew Harrison meant well.
“Alright so, I found out Cami Bernet was coming and I wanted to stay in her room so… It’s just the two of you sharing the hotel room, yeah?” Harrison announced, making you and Tom share a sudden glance.
“I don’t mind…” You trailed, your eyes shifting.
“Yeah, no problem.” Tom quickly added.
Harrison smiled at your reactions, “Don’t worry, there’s one bed and a pull out couch.”
Tom’s face beamed a light pink, making him turn his head toward the window. But, you did the same by turning your face to see the street passing by as you were leaving town. Harrison couldn’t help but smirk to himself at how antagonizing he could be yet trying to be a perfect matchmaker.
*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*✭˚·゚✧*·゚* 
Toward the end of the drive, you laid down in the backseat wearing the cozy hoodie Tom stuffed in his backpack. With your head sunk into your pillow and your legs curled up, you looked as comfortable as someone could on a road trip. A few times, Tom glanced over his shoulder to make sure you were okay when there was a sudden bump in the road, but you also looked cute nuzzling your face into your pillow. 
Once you arrived to the hotel, you stirred in your daze as Harrison pulled in front of the huge front doors. Two valets walked up to the car, one on Harrison’s side then another by the trunk. As Tom got out, he quickly opened the back door and lightly shook your leg.
“Hey Y/N, we’re here.” He softly spoke, giving his hand for you to hold.
You blinked a few times, but lazily smiled as you wrapped your hand around his and pulled yourself up from the comfortable position you lied in. You pulled down your hoodie when you got out of the car, grabbing your bag on the floor while watching the valets take the rest of them to put on a luggage cart.
“Jesus, Tom. What’s in this?” Harrison asked as he gave Tom his duffle.
“A few books, some shoes…” He trailed.
“You brought books to a vacation wedding? How adorable.” Harrison teased him as he gave the valet his keys before entering the hotel doors.
You giggled, “What literary fix did you bring on a two day trip? Romantic novels, I bet.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s just my genre.” Tom chuckled, his eyebrows raised at his comment.
The entrance to the hotel was grand, to say the least. There were two large, revolving glass doors trimmed with gold that entered into the main lobby with renaissance art against the woven wallpaper. Both your heads tilted up toward the ceiling, admiring the pale murals along the lavish lights.
You could only hope to get married at such a beautiful place in the future, and you were pretty optimistic that you would find someone for that to happen.
Harrison faced the two of you walking toward him, noticing the way you glared at Tom and your eyes looking so bright. Although he was still looking at the scenery, your eyes were just on him. It made Harrison smirk, but turn back to the hotel front desk manager.
“Thanks.” Harrison grinned, taking the key card. He turned to Tom, “Here’s your key. Don’t be too loud and rowdy. This is a classy place.” He teased, seeing Tom already turn a tomato red.
You snickered, “Thanks, Harrison. You guys planned doing anything?”
Harrison nodded, “I’m meeting Cami by the pool then we’re gonna go back to her room before the rehearsal dinner. What about you guys?”
“I actually saw on their website that there’s a historical library on the second floor, a bunch of old collections.” You turned, “Tom? Interested?” You asked him with a beaming smile across your face.
Tom glanced at Harrison, who also was smiling, then back at you, “Yeah, of course. Sounds fun.”
“Wow, you guys really know how to get out of your comfort zone. Have fun with that.” Harrison, obviously sarcastic, stated before leaving to meet Cami.
Quickly, the two of you took the large, carpeted staircase on the second floor and followed the signs that directed toward the library. It wasn’t as fancy as the hotel, but it did look pretty old from the traditional style of the room.
You looked up at the high ceiling before heading toward the back shelves of familiar British authors. Although most of these titles triggered him back to all the essays he was paid to do his last year of college, he glared back at you completely mesmerized by the complete collections.
“Look, Williams works. All his romanticism in one set. I bet that’s like a dream to you.” You smiled to yourself, flashing back to your late night ramblings over the phone about literature. You never thought you’d meet anyone with a bigger opinion on themes of romance– and Tom was pretty convincing in his arguments. Truly adorable when you he went on his tangents, just wanting to listen to his soft voice all day.
Tom traced his fingers along the spines of the books before selecting one to read. He breezed through the pages, noticing the pictures within the text before he glanced up and didn’t see you straight on.
“Y/N?” 
“Over here!” Your voice echoed.
He followed the sound of your tone then seeing you sitting in a comfortable nook that overlooked the beach and pool area.
“I found the best seat in the house.” You jeered, pulling your legs to your chest with your back against the wall of the nook.
Tom joined you, sitting down on the cushion within the space and facing you from the opposite side. The natural sunlight came through the window beautifully, so much so that he was already in the reading mood.
You grin, “I bet a bunch of writers came here and just wrote their hearts out.” You said as you looked out to the calm ocean.
“Or where a lot of people hid from their brides.” Tom jeered.
You rolled your eyes, then crawled over to his side. You instantly curled up next to him, your head against his chest as the two of you glanced at the page of the book together. Tom didn’t expect you to get so close, but he wasn’t complaining. 
Within that time, you learned that Tom is the fast reader between you two. Dorky enough, you were a bit envious of that. Everytime he tried to turn the page to tease you, you’d quickly put your hand up to stop him and plea that he stop moving his eyes so fast. 
About thirty pages in, Tom hadn’t realized he was flying through the pages with how in depth he was of the text. He turned his head and saw you fell asleep, smiling down at you and not knowing the short car ride really tired you out. He didn’t move though, he wouldn’t dare to with how peaceful you appeared. He chuckled at your light breaths, napping against him with your hand at the center of his chest.
*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*✭˚·゚✧*·゚* 
A few minutes later, you woke up in Tom’s arms and almost sprung up from the embarrassment.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize I passed out.” You chuckled, lifting out of his arms.
“No, it’s okay. I was just reading away.” He shrugged, showing that boyish smile that made your heart race.
The two of you came to the conclusion that you were starved, so you thought of the only bougie thing to do on a wedding weekend– ordering room service. Giddy and smiling, both of you went one of the three huge elevators in the hall and headed to the eleventh floor.
When you entered your room, your luggage was lined up by the door. Neither of you wanted to gawk, but it was probably one of the more fancier places either of you stayed in your lives.
There was a deep tub in the bathroom and robes hanging on the door as well as a king-size bed with an incredible ocean view and balcony. The sofa was in the corner with the mini-fridge next to it, making you curious as to what else they could offer.
“Do you think if we take from here Harrison will kill us?” You asked Tom, opening the small fridge door.
“Kill, no. Strangle? Maybe.”
You giggled, but saw a few sodas and healthy snacks. As you checked out the selection, Tom walked back to the bathroom and turned on the light. His eyes widened to a bottle of champagne on ice set on the counter. There was a tiny card next to the bucket that said: Happy Wedding Everyone! From us, to you! XO The Bride and Groom.
Holy shit, how much was Steven paying for this. Tom thought.
“Wow, that’s for us?” You asked peaking from the doorway.
“I say that we toast. It only seems right.” Tom trailed as he checked the label on the bottle.
Maybe this wouldn’t be as awkward of a night as the two of you dread. Thank God.
Tom already popped the cork, making you hurry back with a bit of a pout on your lip.
“Well, couldn’t find wine glasses but I did find hotel coffee mugs. Much more sophisticated.”
After pouring both cups at least half, the two of you sat on the balcony to admire the scene. The view from your hotel room was beautiful, as if it was a green screen. The sun perfectly setting below the shorelines and the winds blowing the tall grass in the dunes. It reminded you both that it was the summertime; a period of time to relax and destress from the fast pace environment of school and warm up from the previous harsh winters.
There was a freedom in the air, almost confusing from how much time you suddenly had.
“This is definitely the kind of view I want for my wedding.” You trailed, a bit mesmerized.
Tom nodded, “Really?”
“Yeah. A beach wedding is romantic… well, until it gets windy, but I know I’ll get my planning down.” You said before turning to him, “Where do you want to get married?”
His heart skipped a beat, “I’ve never thought about it.”
You scoffed, “Never?”
He nodded, “Never ever. My dad sort of said that it’s what the woman does and the man just nods and agrees.”
“God, your dad sounds like a joy… No offense.” You quickly corrected yourself.
“He’s always been like that. Then I wonder why they didn’t work out.” Tom tried to humor himself.
Your lips went to the side before saying, “Hey, that’s their issues. It doesn’t fall on you or anything. I personally think they did do a great job at raising their son. He turned out pretty okay.” You grinned, holding your cup with both hands.
Tom smirked, “I can agree with okay.”
When he looked at you, it’s like he had this crush on you for years. He thought for a moment that maybe if he believed in his gut feeling, there could be a chance with you. He couldn’t keep backing out each time he wanted to ask you that simple question.
You wondered the same just a few feet away from him. You didn’t want to think so highly of yourself in his perspective, but the thought of getting over this crush would make you feel nothing but regret.
Something was there. The word for it was unknown at the moment. Ultimately, it was now or never. 
*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*✭˚·゚✧*·゚* 
In the early hours of the day, you and Tom found yourselves in a rush to get ready. As you tried to do your makeup in the bathroom, Tom was in the main room looking in the long mirror while trying to perfect his black tie. He wore a nice navy blue suit with a white button up, feeling like he was playing dress up since he never went to many fancy occasions other than important fraternity meetings.
“How are you doing in there?” You asked him, contorting your face to make sure there were no creases in your concealer.
“I remember why I wear clip-on ties.” He mumbled as he pulled at the end of the tie, but the knot was too crooked by his collar.
As you put down the brush, you grabbed one of your earrings and tried putting it on as you walked out to see where he was at. You saw how he struggled to figure out what shirt to where, seeing the two other unbuttoned ones on the pull-out coach he slept on last night.
“Here, let me try.” You trailed, standing right in front of him so you could align the tie. Tom glanced at you, your eyes focused on the centering as your fingers moved the knot around to get it just right. He gulped with how close you were to him– the last time being when you two had a short make-out before being interrupted. If he kept thinking about it, the more red his cheeks would get and he tried to let his mind go somewhere else.
“There, that’s better. A wedding date has never looked so handsome.” You teased, patting down his tie on top of his shirt. He nervously chuckled, both of you sharing a shy smile before you touched his gelled curls to fix the stray strand of hair by his forehead.
“Now, how do I look?” You asked him, dramatically posing with your hands on your hips. You wore a knee high dress, a pale blue that complimented Tom’s shade of blue where it still matched.
“You look beautiful.” Tom complimented in complete awe.
Heat rose your face, genuinely flustered, “Good, we should probably head down there… before Harrison can think of any comments to throw our way.”
“You’re right.” Tom groaned.
Well, Harrison’s insinuated comments were well in his head anyways so, you two got a few of those before the three of you headed to the wedding venue outside by the beach. Harrison briefly mentioned Cami, not getting into too many details which was for the best (at the moment). 
The three of you took your white fold-out seats toward the middle of the left side, Tom and Harrison pointing out Steven’s family in the front row. You picked up the pamphlet that sat on the chair, the cover showing a professionally taken picture of the couple.
Smiling, you read through the brief summary of the ceremony and Tom kept giving you short glares. He really couldn’t believe how beautiful you looked, especially in the warm sun and beautiful setting around you all.
Once everyone gathered, the wedding started and eventually everyone stood up for the bride’s entrance. You saw her already tearing up, almost making you want to shed tears as well, but you held it together. It was nice to see this woman so happy and you didn’t even know her– you just knew she was happy.
All went well and thorough, everyone awing at the ring bearer and flower girls, but then the vows came and there was nothing but silence.
“I promise to love you today as much as I did yesterday, as much as I will tomorrow and years to come.”
Both you and Tom got shivers up your spine, relating those words. You glance down at Tom’s hand resting between his legs, watching him pick at his nails, and you carefully placed your hand on top of his wrist. He didn’t even realize he was doing it, a shy smile to show his bit of embarrassment. You quietly giggled, squeezing his hand before bringing your hand back to your own lap.
Tom let out a shaky sigh, gulping and thinking his tie was now strangling his throat.
The ceremony would end in a beautiful kiss before the bride and groom left back down the aisle. Everyone slowly moved over to the reception which was only a few feet away under a huge white tent. The cake was set as well as the food and free bar, everyone, including Tom, able to loosen their ties and even take off their shoes to dance.
“That was really nice. Anything like you want at your non-thought of wedding?” You jeered at Tom, walking next to him.
He nodded, “I took a few mental notes. But, my eyes may have been concentrating too much at what color pink the bridesmaid dresses were.” 
“I was thinking between a light flamingo or cotton candy.” You scrunched your nose.
With booze and food being passed around, all the wedding guests were having a great time. With the sun set and the fairy lights beaming around the tent, everyone was having fun and embracing the bride and groom’s special day. Their first dance together was sweet, applauded and wooed before the real party started. 
Hooked on A Feeling by Blue Swede began mid-verse, making everyone laugh at how random the song was. People linked together, swinging back and forth with happiness painted on every face.
“Do you want to dance?” You asked Tom, getting up from your seat and giving your hand out to him.
He nodded, “I’m good right now.”
“C’mon. One dance.” You pouted, “Don’t leave me hanging here.”
“Maybe later.” Tom chuckled, turning a bit pink. 
That was one thing he forgot before the trip– how to dance with rhythm in his step.
“I’ll warm you up and maybe makeTom realize he’s missing out.” Harrison jeered, stepping in to take your hand.
Tom dazed in pure awe of you sway back and forth with Harrison. He wasn’t envious, confident knowing that his bestfriend wouldn’t do that to him, but just being able to see you gracefully dance was like seeing an floating angel glide on clouds. Harrison spun you a few times, throwing your hand back in laughter just from the positive atmosphere.
A minute or two passed in the song, and Tom leaned his arm on the back of his seat, grinning at your smile, but you suddenly made eye contact across the room.
He blushed as you and Harrison walked back over, hoping he wouldn’t be making a fool of himself.
“It’s your turn.” You smiled, taking his hand and Tom got out of his seat. Harrison purposely cheered for both of you loudly, making a scene to tease Tom, but he was happy that Tom was happy. Brown Eyed Girl started playing when you both planted your feet and instantly grooved to the fast beat. Sure, the songs were kind-of cheesy, but it’s expected at a wedding and all you could do was embrace it.
You two merged into the dancing crowd, everyone happy and spinning around as well as kids jumping around between their parents. You wrapped your arms around Tom’s neck, both of you moving and swaying and people passed by singing some of the lyrics. Even Steven and his bride cut in, making everyone cheer for them and laugh.
Once the night calmed down, with kids and older folks heading to their rooms, slower songs played for the guests still enjoying their time. As nice of a night it was, you looked out at the beach from afar and Tom was nursing his drink next to you.
“Do you want to… go see if we can sit on the beach?” You hesitantly asked, wondering if it was cheesy.
Tom nodded, “Sure. Yeah.” He half-smiled.
You both walked together from the wedding tent, heading down the unlit path. Tom grabbed one of the folded blankets displayed in a bin for people who wanted to sit on the beach any time of the day. 
As you two got closer to the beach, Tom couldn’t help but notice everything going on. The moonlight, the leftover pink petals and rice in the sand, even dolphins fins going by within the waves.
No one could make this up as the most perfect moment to ask someone out. Tom cracked his knuckles, the two of you listening to the crash of the waves against the shore, before he stuttered out his words.
“D-Did you have fun tonight?” He shyly asked, not looking at you.
“Yeah, I had a lot of fun. I’m glad you invited me…” You trailed.
Okay, this was the moment. Tom thought, This is when you tell her.
He gulped, but you spoke before him.
“Are you okay?” You furrowed your brow.
Tom cleared his throat, “Yeah! Yeah, I just… I want to tell you something.”
You giggled at his sudden shyness, getting closer to him, “What’s going on?” You grinned, but a bit concerned. You couldn’t gauge if his tone was happy or upset.
He didn’t want to take a completely dramatic pause, but there wasn’t enough air in the world for his lungs to feel like they were working. His tongue felt dry, his skin felt cold, holding his breath until it just all slipped out.
“I really like you and… I haven’t been able to figure out how to say it. I read these books about love and what it is but, I couldn’t think of anything to say for shit.” Tom chuckled, his neck and cheeks heated, “But, now I know that I want to be with you and I’ve known that ever since you came into my life wearing some caution tape and gave you my hoodie… I think that you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”
He couldn’t believe he admitted it out loud, feeling a bit faint from letting it all out at once.
You chuckled in relief, “I like you too, Tom. We’ve spent so much time together and you’re so fun to be with that I’ve been tripping over myself wondering if you felt the same.” You thought your heart was in your throat and butterflies bursted in your stomach, “I didn’t want to be that weird girl who just thinks she’s in love with the cute guy at the bookstore she spends too much time at during the day.” 
Tom gulped, surprised by your response, but he had to catch his breath again when your eyes met again. The moment was still a bit awkward, not knowing what to say next, but you bite your bottom lip, “I think this is the part in books and movies where we kiss and ride into the sunrise on your beautiful steed.” 
He cracked a smile and leaned in, his hand against your cheek before your lips met. You would be lying if you said you weren’t dying for this kiss to happen. Like that end at any sappy romance novel you read for pleasure, they always ended in these kind of passionate and satisfying kisses. Although you didn’t think those type of scenarios were real, this was enough to make you start believing.
*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*✭˚·゚✧*·゚* 
Your eyes fluttered open, surprised by the sound of the waves still crashing onto the shore and salty but gentle breeze brushing across your face. You two must have fallen asleep from how tired the night made you between the dancing and drinking, but you weren’t complaining instead smiling at the coincidence.
A few moments later, Tom would stir from his sleep. He didn’t believe how loud and close the waves were, but his eyes fluttered open to you sat up and looking out at dawn. The wedding arch still stood between the soft sand of the beach, both of you watching the glowing sunset begin its descent under the horizon. 
Another cold breeze set the relaxed mood even more as you two sat there admiring the start of the morning. Tom stretched his back, both of you comfortable with the silence between you two. Feeling refreshed and happy, you turned your head to Tom and the orange light made his brown eyes shine.
“Yesterday happened, right? It wasn’t just an amazing dream I had.” Tom joked, turning to smile at you.
“Truly real. Nothing fictional about it.” You smiled.
Tom placed his hand on your cheek, cupping your skin softly before placing his lips on yours. Your smile faded as your noses brushed together, your heart fluttering as you paced your sweet kiss. It was your happy ending that no book could write.
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aylacavebear · 3 months
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The Traveler - Chapter 3 - Earth 1997 PT 2
You're from a specific dimension, Solaris Eclipse. It was a dimension of magic. When your kind, the Eldrathiren, turned fifteen, your unique power would awaken within you. Most times, it was something small, levitation, teleportation, creation, elemental manipulation, and things like that. Once in a while, a fifteen-year-old would just disappear, and those were called Travelers. None of them had ever returned. Your parents had told you stories about them, and you hoped that wouldn't happen to you.
Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will probably be 18+ I haven't decided yet!
Word Count: 3590
Pairing Eventually Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You & Sam Winchester x OC Reader/You
Warnings: Angst, Scary Situation, Some Fluff.
----------------------------------------- Chapter 3 - Earth, 1997 Pt. 2
After the brothers left, you changed back into your original clothes, feeling better now that your tail was free again. It was strange, though, when you took off Dean’s shirt. You picked it back up and sniffed it, noticing a part of the scent that had lured you out of your village. Sadly, you still couldn’t place the exact scent.
You watched the TV again while waiting for Dean to return. The things on it were fascinating and confusing, depending on what came on or what channel you were on. You also realized that in order for you to even go out anywhere, you’d have to hide your ears and tail and not smile too much at anyone so they didn’t see your canines.
Throughout the day, you and Dean talked, about a lot. Luckily, you’d caught on to English, which made communicating easier. He’d brought back something called donuts, and you found them utterly delicious. Dean even chuckled, watching you eat several different kinds. You weren’t big on the thing called coffee, though. It was bitter, at least compared to the donuts.
That afternoon, after lunch, which had been something called a bacon cheeseburger and french fries, he left to retrieve Sammy from school. The food in this world, at least what you had tasted so far, was delicious. Dean had explained the things they hunted. He also explained how people in this world were. Unfortunately, he had to be blunt with you, explaining that because of how you looked, the whole cat ears, tail, and canines, people here would freak out, and some would want to hunt you.
You really wanted to see more of this world and experience the outside, and while Dean was gone, you began thinking of how you could do that without scaring people. Dean had made it clear that he had no clue how to help you get back to your dimension. This dimension did have magic, but it was different. Here, witches did magic, and so far, the brothers didn’t know a nice one that might help. Witches were usually something they hunted.
When the motel room door opened, only Sammy came inside, which puzzled you, “Where is Dean?”
“Oh, he’s at the library. He didn’t want to leave you here alone,” Sammy replied, setting his backpack down.
You plopped down on the bed, sighing through your nose, “What is school like?” you asked, fairly curious.
He laughed before sitting on the opposite bed, facing you, “It’s school. Adults teach you things. You take boring tests. Kids bully other kids. Uh, they’re mean to other kids. That’s what a bully is,” he began explaining when you tilted your head slightly.
“Why are people mean to other people?” you asked, not fully understanding the concept. It wasn’t like that where you were from.
Sammy shrugged, “Some people are just mean. Dean said he hadn’t found a way to help you get home yet but that you liked all the food he brought you.”
You figured he wanted to change the topic off of school, so you went along with it. You also didn’t realize that asking a thirteen-year-old wasn’t the best way to discover why people were mean to others. “I am not sure there is a way for me to get home. A Traveler has never returned home before,” you replied, a little quieter than before, trying not to feel sad at the thought of never seeing your family again.
“You can stay with us. We can be your new family,” Sammy told you quite happily, making you chuckle a little. He was rather adorable.
“I do not know how long it will be, before I end up somewhere else,” you replied, somewhat quietly, realizing that you were actually going to miss both the brothers.
“Well then, we’ll have to have some fun while you’re here,” he said, trying to lighten both your moods.
Sammy began explaining a game called Go Fish as he pulled out what he explained was a deck of cards. It seemed like a simple game to match certain cards by asking the other player if they had a specific card. He showed you an example, and you found him adorable during his explanation. Then, the two of you played a practice game. He wanted you to understand it before he “got serious” about playing.
The first round was simple enough, and you caught on faster than Sammy thought you would. He had you laughing, you had him laughing, and the rounds were tied so far. Before he could deal the next round, Dean returned to the motel, looking somewhat discouraged.
“Hey, Dean, you want to play too?” Sammy asked, smiling as he looked over at him.
“It’s dinner time,” he replied, and you tilted your head a bit as the aroma of bacon cheeseburgers filled the motel room, making you smile.
“It is okay, Sammy, we can always play tomorrow if I am still here,” you tried to reassure him, “Plus, it was fun.”
Dean began unpacking the food he’d brought onto the table as you went over to try to help, but he didn’t let you, “You’re a guest. Just get comfy, Sweetheart,” he told you with that cute smirk that made you smile.
So, that was what you did. You went and got comfortable on the bed you’d slept in the night before, sitting cross-legged and attempting to wait patiently. Sammy went and sat at the table while Dean brought you yours and sat on the opposite bed.
While the three of you ate, he explained that he hadn’t been able to find anything about how to open a portal to another dimension. He also explained that libraries were limited on information, so that didn’t mean that there wasn’t a way, he just hadn’t found it yet.
Over the next three days, you stayed at the motel room with the brothers. Dean had even washed your original clothes for you. The whole washing machine and dryer was fascinating to you. You had barely managed to keep yourself from going out and exploring, although, you had watched things from the motel window. You had also had to borrow one of their knives to keep your claws trimmed, as they grew at a much faster rate than the brothers’ nails. Sammy had found that utterly fascinating.
The shower experience was different but quite enjoyable for you. It wasn’t like at home. If you wanted water to flow over you, you had to go to the waterfall. At home, you would sit on a small stool, wash up, rinse off, then soak in the warmed bath. 
Dean had even gone as far as getting you a pair of jeans that you could customize so they weren’t uncomfortable for your tail, and you could leave it out. He’d also gotten you what was called a tank top, which was fairly comfortable. Then he had gotten you something to sleep in that you could do the same with, along with a bag like his and his brothers to keep your belongings in. 
You’d fallen asleep fairly quickly on the fourth night, but the brothers had stayed awake.
“What happens if Dad comes back and sees her? He’s gonna freak out,” Sammy whispered, worried.
Dean groaned quietly, rubbing his face with his hand, then glanced at you as you slept, “I know. I’m gonna have to call him if she’s still here tomorrow. He’s been gone for almost a month now. He’ll probably be back any day.”
Sammy looked over at you as well, “How do we convince Dad that she’s not a monster?” he asked sadly.
“I’ll figure it out,” Dean told him.
The two hit the sack not too long after. Sleep found Sammy quickly, but Dean was kept awake with his thoughts, knowing this would not be easy.
Dean’s POV
Dean woke with a start just after five the following morning. Then, he jumped out of bed and grabbed his jacket before going outside. “Dad, there’s something I need to tell you before you go in there,” he said quickly, now standing near the driver’s side door.
“Dean, I’m tired. I just want to relax for a minute before we head out,” John told him.
Dean took a deep breath. There were a lot of scenarios that had played out in his mind as to how this was going to go, and none of them were looking good, “Dad, please.”
“Damnit Dean. Fine. What?” he snapped, and Dean swallowed hard.
“We found, a uh, a girl. She’s pretty lost and confused. We did all the tests. She’s not a monster, so we were trying to help her,” Dean stated quickly. Yeah, he’d omitted a few little details but hoped he could work up to those.
“So why don’t you want me to go inside?” John asked, and Dean could tell he was quickly losing his patience.
“Well, she, uh, she isn’t human, but she’s not a monster,” he answered.
John moved far too fast for Dean to think. He was inside the motel, Dean quickly on his heels. Dean had barely managed to close the door behind him. John stopped dead in his tracks, seeing you sleeping in the bed, your ears twitching slightly at the sounds. 
“What the hell is she?” John practically demanded through a clenched jaw, his hand on his gun.
You stirred at the new voice in the room, slowly opening your eyes. Seeing the older man now standing at the side of your bed instantly freaked you out, and you moved to the far side of the bed, debating the corner of the room.
“Hey, it’s okay. It’s just my dad,” Dean quickly told you, moving toward the other side of the bed, but John stopped him.
“What. Is. She?” he asked again, enunciating each word, just as stern as before, only now, he had drawn his gun and aiming it at you.
You knew what was in his hand and the damage it could do. Your eyes widened. Slowly, you slid off the bed toward the corner of the motel room, staying as low to the ground as you could, terrified.
Dean sighed, “She’s an Eldrathiren, and she’s from another dimension.”
John looked over at his son in disbelief, “And you just let her in the motel room?!” You heard a click from the gun, and you knew that meant all he had to do now was pull the trigger.
“She’s not a monster,” Sammy said confidently, awake now due to the commotion in the room.
John’s eyes were back on you, ignoring his youngest son, but his hand was no longer on Dean. Dean was torn between listening to and obeying his father or standing between you and the gun. He took a shaky breath and chose to defy his father and stand between you and the gun his father was pointing at you.
“Dad, please, let us explain,” Dean began, holding his hands up in front of him. He used as calm a tone as he could manage, praying his father would listen to reason.
“She’s only fifteen, don’t hurt her,” Sammy stated, standing beside his brother.
John rolled his eyes, “What the hell has gotten into the two of you?! Move!” “I’m sorry, I’ll leave,” you said meekly from behind the brothers, still crouched in the corner. 
You speaking threw John off, especially with the amount of fear in your voice. He sighed and uncocked his gun before sliding it back into his waistband. “Dean, make some coffee. Sammy, start packing everything. You, I want to talk to you,” John barked orders, and he didn’t sound in the mood to be argued with.
Dean clenched his jaw but didn’t argue, “Yes, Sir.”
Sammy said nothing and did as he was told while John went and sat at the table, motioning for you to follow him. You did but were very cautious as you sat down across from him. Dean kept an eye on you as he began a pot of coffee, worried about what his father might do.
“Now, mind explaining how you managed to get both my boys to go against everything I’ve ever taught them about hunting?” he asked you, fairly annoyed.
Your POV
This wasn’t something you’d prepared yourself for, getting woken up to an adult and then having a gun pointed at you. You also hadn’t anticipated both brothers attempting to protect you from their father, no less. You explained to John what had happened to you since the day of your birthday, what a Traveler was, at least what you knew about them, and then about how Sammy had found you the day you showed up and tried to help you.
It was hard to tell how he felt or what he was thinking. Dean had gotten his father a cup of coffee and also had one himself. He was leaning on the counter, just listening. Sammy had finished packing their things up and loaded them in the car outside, which you still hadn’t seen. John was clearly thinking.
The sun was now up, its rays shining through the thin, closed curtains of the motel room. John was sipping his second cup of coffee. He still hadn’t said anything, and you were trying not to fidget with the hem of your shirt although you were looking down at the table.
“Dad-,” Sammy began quietly, but John just held up a hand in his direction, effectively silencing him.
Dean was still leaning against the counter, his arms crossed, just watching his father and you. The silence was getting not only you but also the brothers. John was glancing at you occasionally, more at your ears than anything. They had drooped some, as they did when you were worried or sad.
It wasn’t until he finished his coffee that he finally said something, “We’ll take her with us, for now.”
Both the brothers seemed relieved, but you weren’t sure how to feel. At least you wouldn’t be alone in this strange place, but John seemed like an angry, strict adult, and not even his boys would argue with him.
“Let’s go,” John told you and his sons, standing from his seat and heading for the door.
You glanced over at Dean, and he nodded, so you, too, got up and headed outside. The sounds didn’t bother you like the day you’d arrived, having had time to adjust to them. Dean opened the back door of the car that John had gone to. Sammy had already gotten in, sitting behind his father.
“It’s okay. It won’t hurt you, and it’ll be okay,” Dean told you quietly. “Thanks,” you replied just as quietly, sliding into the back seat. 
Dean sat in the front seat in front of you. Sammy reached over and set the beanie in your lap so you could cover your ears, and you gave him a thankful smile before doing so. You’d wanted to go outside the second day you’d arrived but had listened to Dean and stayed indoors. Now, you watched as the world outside passed by while John drove to wherever he was going.
You were in complete awe, looking out the windows during the entire drive. Sometimes, there would be music on and other times, it would be quiet. John barely said anything, so both brothers stayed quiet. John mostly took backroads but stopped for food and gas a few different times. 
When he finally parked in front of a two-story house, Dean asked, “What are we doing at Bobby’s?”
“It’s too dangerous to take her with us,” John said flatly, “I called him before you three made it out to the car. He knows, and he’s okay with her staying here.”
You looked between the two of them in the front seat but said nothing as your heart began to race. Dean got out and opened your door while Sammy grabbed your bag out of the truck. He looked so sad as he handed it to you, and then you followed the brothers and John to the front door.
A man near John’s age opened the door after John knocked, “John, boys.”
“Bobby,” John replied.
The man you realized was Bobby held the door open as you followed the three inside.
“I’m sorry I’m so much trouble,” you told the adults quietly.
Bobby sighed as he looked you over, “You need help. We’ll see what we can find.”
“Boys, grab your bags. We’ll be staying a couple days to help Bobby go through his books,” John told them again in that stern voice. 
You wondered if that was just the way his voice was and how he always spoke, but you weren’t about to ask either. Bobby’s place looked nice, although fairly cluttered with a lot of books. You may have been able to speak English, but you still didn’t know how to read it. 
“Come on, kid, I’ll show you where you can sleep while you’re here,” Bobby told you, and he didn’t seem frustrated at you.
“Thank you,” you replied, still a bit quietly, but you also gave him a small smile.
For the next three days, the four of them poured through books. The brothers and their father slept in Bobby’s living room. Bobby was kind, although he was still surprised to see your ears and tail. You were a creature none of them had encountered before. Bobby and Dean took turns cooking. Or, someone would order food and have it delivered. 
You’d been contemplating why you hadn’t ended up in another dimension yet, although you knew very little about Travelers and how things worked. Plus, so far, not one of Bobby’s books even talked about your kind, let alone a Traveler. Even the morning the brothers and their dad got ready to head out, you wanted to go with them. You weren’t sure why, you just did. Saying goodbye to the two of them was hard, and for a moment, you thought you saw something in Dean’s eyes when he looked at you. It was just before he quickly turned from you and got in his Dad’s car, Sammy already in the back and John in the driver’s seat.
“I’m gonna miss them,” you said quietly before Bobby put his arm around your shoulders.
“I know, kid. They’ll be back one day,” Bobby tried to reassure you.
“But will I still be here?” you asked rhetorically, although quietly. It felt like a piece of you was missing now, but had no clue why. “I’m gonna go to my room for a bit.”
There were still so many things you didn’t understand about being a Traveler, and this dimension had held no answers so far. You hadn’t even realized that that scent you’d followed on your birthday hadn’t even been around. As you sat on your bed, things your parents had told you played through your mind.
Travelers are different, Y/N. Their powers are typically based on where they go. All we can tell you are the rumors from a long, long time ago—stories that have been passed down. In the stories, a Traveler has a soul that needs to find something or someone. That is what makes them disappear from here and travel dimensions until they find whatever it is they are looking for or need to find.  So far, at least in the last few centuries, a Traveler has never returned. Dimensions work in weird ways. There could be numerous dimensions of just our world, not to mention all the other ones that are out there. As per the stories, a Traveler stops aging at twenty-five until they find what their soul is searching for, but no one knows for sure.  The chances of you being a Traveler are very slim. According to the stories, it only happens along certain bloodlines, and so far, no one in our bloodline has ever been a Traveler. So, your Dad and I don’t want you to worry about that. You’ll probably get a power similar to what the two of us can do or something close to one in our bloodline.
A knock on your door pulled you from your thoughts, “Y/N, you want something to eat?” Bobby asked through the closed door.
You sighed, “Sure.”
The moment you opened the door though, you caught a whiff of that scent again, and you froze. You weren’t ready to leave this dimension.
“What’s wrong?” he asked you, seeing your reaction.
“The scent, it’s… back,” you answered, staring at nothing in particular but worried you’d just disappear.
Without thinking twice, you grabbed your bag off the end of the bed. If you were going to get dragged somewhere else, you at least wanted to have that with you. So far, the last two times you ended up in a different dimension, you’d walked through two objects. In your world, there were two mushrooms near the border of your village. In the last world, it had been two trees. Here, you had no idea what it would be, and the doorway of your room could have easily been what would take you somewhere else.
“Well, come try to eat something,” Bobby told you before heading back to the kitchen, leaving your door open.
You took a deep breath, closing your eyes as you walked through the doorway of your room. Everything changed around you as you felt a warm breeze blow through your hair.
----------------------------------------- Chapter 4 - Twilight Veil
Link to the series Masterlist.
A/N: If you'd like to get in on the Dimensional Traveling, go to this link and leave me with a comment, or several, with as much or as little detail about the dimension you'd like the Traveler to end up in. If you'd like to have something specific happen, share that too. I'll make sure that you get credit for the idea you shared in the chapter in which your dimension is featured. I'd love to have as many readers involved as possible. I think this could be a lot of fun.
As always, if you'd like to be tagged, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list.
Tag List: @littlemadamred @mxltifxnd0m
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Text
Forge the fire that burnt the city down,love, love, only love
Most of the time
I was on a verge of madness
An Incurable syndrome of some sorts
When I found myself crying often at little things
Or when I'd find myself being my own worst critic
I don't know how to let people go
Or let this frustration out
I never learnt how to manage my emotions
So it came out in the most Illogical ways
The lost motivation everytime I'd try to make something
All the crumpled papers in the corner of my room
They speak my truth.
And even more than that I found myself lying wide awake in bed in hopes that it would occur to someone how I really felt
Writing and drawing was only an attempt to reach out
I was mostly afraid of being lonely
And so it did, It draped me in its arms like a never leaving sickness
The one that made my bones crack under the weight of never being understood
I lie alot, specially when I say that I'm happy
And on days when I smile the widest , I feel ever so lonely
I don't know if you read this that you'll understand but I believe it's only human nature to seek validation, I haven't accomplished much in life except for a thing here and there ,not enough to make myself proud .
I am also the person who doesn't know what love tastes like except the crumbs of it that I learnt to lick off the tables,despite being told I've the most unique perspective of life,but won't a victim become the predator when it's been victimized his whole life?
I've been called many things - Narcissist, Irritable, Annoying,A Burden,good for nothing,a Failure and that's when I started to separate myself from the others. They couldn't see the facade of my sadness,My Clinging Younger Self that deafened me to demand justice? What justice? Where's the justice? I lived with her long enough to realise she isn't the one to be reasoned with,so I suffocated her and I killed her.
The ever so lovely faces,the enchanting smiles,the wicked souls and the lost sheeps.
I liked to think I'm better than them,better off them,better of them,better in a way that could only validate my Loneliness.
And when I look at other people's relationship with their mothers and fathers, I feel this Heinous Anger and possibly - Jealousy.
I don't hate my parents,oh no , I don't . That's a crime. It's a sin. Blood is thicker than water.
But sometimes I wish they would notice me,see me or just acknowledge my presence.
I want to feel vulnerable without thinking that it's an abomination to myself.
I've been cruel to my mother, my father's been cruel to my mother but sometimes I see her in my dreams, an image of her burning, she tells me to lick off her bones clean and love her,love her,love her,love her.
Eventually, I learnt it the hard way,but it's true,war isn't about the one's who won but the one who's left.
I often wish I could sew my hands to that of my friends hands , so we don't drift away,but in the loudest of rooms with their laughter I feel it echoing in the emptiness of the room.
I like classical music, the ones with instruments mostly,that of violins and cello and I daydream of being a hero which I can never be. A hero that saves everyone but themselves. A hero that can only be reborn with a purpose,which I do not have.
I don't remember anything from my childhood except a few memories which make me believe that I'm cracked in some places and my being is spilled out from those cracks ,but I only have two hands, so I let them go and Iook at my hands and I barely recognise who I am anymore.
I've lost my sense of self atleast a thousand times, if I could compare, I'm that drawer in the house with objects that don't belong there or maybe a crayon mixed up with other old crayons and I'm barely picked on, I suppose the colour I'm made of is likely the most unwanted of them all.
I get alot of remarks on who I am,what I was,what I would and what I should be.
I like to think that I'm not the first ,and I'll not be the last.
And when I look at my mother ,in my head,I hear a voice shouting do you see me? Do you love me? Have you ever loved me? Do you have this sadness inside you too? And in those moments I forget that ,my mother, she's been a daughter too, a wife,a Sophisticated,an elegant woman raised by a daughter like her while a daughter in her raised her own daughter.
I believe it's a system, a corrupted,a rigged one and on top of that ,A System that only rejects Emotions and is a home to the cultivation of starving each other of love and teaching each other the ways to make skin,hairs,hands and face soft. Hands , only if they weren't so cold to touch,they could've mistaken you were infact dead.
I don't know much about my childhood,let alone theirs but I like to think maybe I'll understand them when I get older,so I keep my mouth shut, I swallow my desires ,I burn my tongue and I speak, only the words that could please the ears of their lost gaze.
And I feel lonely,so lonely,with all these people around me, I feel suffocated.
They all call me their friend but they barely know how I feel, wouldn't it be as good as half dead?
But then I laugh it off, afraid they'll laugh at me. A roof on my head,food in mouth,a mouth sewn close and a lovely household. I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it-
I miss my father alot but he barely calls me to even ask how I am , so I pretend that it doesn't really matter how does it feel ? Is it cold in the town? Doesn't it get lonely to be the shadow of a father who wasn't even there? A father gone by the afternoon, returned ,fed,sat and he left.
I like to think that they'll love me one day, but will i be the same?
I often reason with myself if I'm not worthy of love,so I get mean when I'm nervous,like a bad dog.
I learnt somewhere how you only recognize love when it's how you perceive love, but deep down I see the spilled empty pages of my diary in my room and I explode, famish, scatter and discard my heart on an origami crane.
I learnt a lot of things , mostly skills that required hand work in hopes that if they couldn't feel my pain , atleast they could see it? How do you glamorize someone's pain without vomitting blood? How to appreciate the death of a person who's never been born? How do you reason me with my ability to see beauty in twisted things when all you feed me is agony and pain?
So I dismiss it,my thoughts,my emotions, nowadays I like to sleep,so that when I cannot turn them off. I dissociate from the world.
It would only matter if you think it does,how can one love a broken,twisted thing with a lost limb and a burnt tongue? Unworthy of love,your foolish desires,eat the burning coal and love them back,love them back ,love them back,even if it hurts. It's supposed to hurt. It wouldn't get better, only you get resilient.
-the end-
-tamanna.
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buryymeinblack · 1 year
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I see your ask for the music game and I raise you: mcr, FTWWW, and black parade >:]
EEEEEEE THANK U FOR THE ASK EVE im sorry it took me a minute to answer !!! i wanted to think hard about my answer but have been busy cramming for a d&d one-shot im dm-ing lol
MCR
Do I know them already?: YES | no
if i didn’t know mcr i would probably be on instagram instead of tumblr. i would probably also still think i’m cisgender. o_o
Favorite Song: oooh lord. Oh that one is so difficult. can i pick two. i’m gonna pick two. boy division, simply because it fucks too good, and helena, for reasons listed below
Least Favorite Song: this is harder than picking a favorite. if you held a gun to my head i’d say tomorrow’s money.
Favorite Album: i love all of them so much and i love all of them for different reasons so it’s super hard to pick a concrete favorite. but also it’s three cheers for sweet revenge. i hold it so close to my heart
Least Favorite Album: this is torture to me but i guess. i GUESS conventional weapons, if that counts
Song that got me into them: when i was about 9 or 10, i was in the car to go to my grandparents’ house, my dad’s playlist shuffled to teenagers. he pointed out the chorus was grammatically incorrect. BUT that was just the first time i’d ever heard mcr, i never thought to look more into it. the song that sparked some kind of emo awakening was helena. when i was 12 years old my mom told me to watch the music video and said i would “appreciate how artistic it is.” and then my gender was transed and my music taste changed forever. helena is still one of my favorite songs of all time it means so much like .. Sentimentally
Seen Live?: YES in cincinnati!!!! i got to go with my parents and two of my best friends in the whole world and it was so awesome and fun. it was genuinely the best day of my life and i’d fight wars just to experience it again
Rate: 10/10 i love them so much it hurts
FTWWW
couldn’t finish it | not my thing | it’s fine | I could get into this | ooo I like | oh hell yeah | fuck this is some good shit | there aren’t even words, this transcends words
MAD GEAR AND MISSILE KID MY BELOVED .. i WILL fuck this whole wide world THANK YOU VERY MUCH ..
TBP
Opinion on cover design: honestly it didn’t strike me the right way the first time i looked at it because it’s so simple compared to their other designs. but the more i thought about it the more i realized it fucks severely. like it gave us the classic MCR logo, and the iconic pepe. my 12 year old brain didn’t like the simplicity of it at first but that’s what makes it so unique. the album is a concept as plain as “a guy dies” and the cover reflects that. a little skeleton in a marching band. but the album is so complex and gorgeous and perfect and the skeleton means so much more than that and i just love it SO MUCH
Favorite song: i have to go with this is how i disappear. that song had an absolute chokehold on me in middle school and still does. though the sharpest lives is a close second
Least favorite song: aggfdgg. if i absolutely have to then blood. just because the intro is so long LMFAO i know that’s what makes it a secret track but on shuffle it gets annoying 💔
Underrated track: DISENCHANTED GAAAAAAHHHH IT WAS THE ROAR OF THE CROWD THAT GAVE ME HEARTACHE TO SING and this is how i disappear i do not see NEARLY enough love for it
Overrated track: hrnnggggghrggggg(z..))((>€£¥]>}. Teenagers. I Love It but very overplayed by the general public
Rate: 10/10. i’ve made an image to display how i feel
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whileiamdying · 2 years
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Movies from Iran: Where realism meets elegance
Irina Jahan
Thu Jul 7, 2022 06:00 AM Last update on: Thu Jul 7, 2022 06:00 AM
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Everyone in the universe needs to know about my three-week binge on Iranian films and the pristine emotional depth they hold.
The movies may be agonisingly slow-paced and minimal, however, there is a reason behind their simplicity. Prior to the Iranian Revolution, filmmaking in Iran faced fewer restrictions compared to the current moviemaking climate, where directors must work around several religious mandates on music, physical interactions, and attire shown on screen.
Yet these movies are considered to be the epitome of exemplary storytelling. Allow me to share.
Ordinary people in extraordinary circumstances
One of the most popular directors in Iran is Abbas Kiarostami and, out of his expansive filmography, I took the time to watch only a few. A blatant injustice I will admit but one that I expect to overturn eventually.
My epiphany, however, comes from pinning down the character trait that is embedded in all his protagonists – novelty brought by life's predicaments. The more I pondered over his characters, the more it became apparent that extraordinary folks exist in our day-to-day life, hidden in plain sight. It could be any one of us. Only time will tell if our innate uniqueness will ever be tested and be brought out to the world.
Movies reflect reality through fiction
This may be an odd thing to say but not when we are talking about movies like Close-Up by Kiarostami and The Apple by Samira Makhmalbaf. These movies blur the lines between fiction and reality in the most captivating ways.
For instance, Close-Up seamlessly zigzags the audience's attention between a courtroom scene and re-enactments of the real-life arrest of the protagonist of the film. The Apple tells the story of two children who are allowed to reacquaint themselves with the outside world after enduring a gut-wrenching confinement of twelve years by their parents. We may lose ourselves in the immersive stories and forget that what's being shown is not always real. However, these movies captivate us because art indeed imitates life.
Existential crises can be a good thing
This will sound like a motivational speaker's one-liner but bear with me – the sun indeed rises even after the darkest nights. What prompted this painfully cheesy statement? The movie Taste of Cherry which carries a concept as heavy as self-harm in a way that excuses the viewers from having to sit through heavy emotional content. The most important message this movie offers is that our darkest moments can bring us to the greatest adventure of our lives but we must be bold enough to seek it.
The profound lessons I have learned from these films transcend time and culture. Nevertheless, it is an injustice to constrict them to brief descriptions. Instead, like some gallant heroine who is destined to lead others to experience the sweetness of living with introspection, I will leave this message: When in need of a heart-touching thoughtful film that may or may not leave you in tears, know that Iranian movies will never disappoint.
The writer of this article is currently recovering from the emotional override of watching too many beautiful films. Send her your thoughts and prayers to [email protected]
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ersomiljain · 3 months
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Is low fat milk suitable for children?
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As a parent, you always want the best for your little one, and that includes making sure they’re getting the right nutrients. Milk has always been a staple in many diets, but when it comes to low fat milk for children, things get a bit more complicated. Let’s dive into the pros and cons to see if it deserves a spot in your kid’s shopping cart.
Doodhvale low-fat milk goes through a special process to take out most of the fat, leaving you with milk that has less than 0.5% fat. That means you can still enjoy the delicious taste of milk in your cereal, coffee, or smoothie without all the extra calories.
Why is fat important for kids?
Imagine your body as a construction site – growing bones, developing brains, building muscles – it’s a busy place! Fat acts like the building blocks for this growth, helping your child absorb essential vitamins like A and D. It also keeps them feeling full and energized throughout the day.
So, what’s the deal with low-fat milk?
As the name suggests, low-fat milk has less fat compared to whole milk. This can be beneficial for adults trying to manage their weight or cholesterol levels, but for children, it’s a different story.
Major organizations like the American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) recommend whole milk for children between the ages of 1 and 2. This is because during this crucial growth period, their bodies need the complete package of nutrients found in whole milk, including the fat.
After 2, it’s not so black and white:
Once your child turns 2, things get a bit more flexible. If they’re maintaining a healthy weight and growth trajectory, low-fat milk can be a safe and nutritious option alongside a balanced diet. However, there are some factors to consider:
Individual needs: Some children, especially those with a higher risk of becoming overweight or obese, may benefit from sticking to whole milk or switching to low-fat milk before age 2. This should always be discussed with your child’s pediatrician.
Alternative options: If your child has a dairy allergy or lactose intolerance, there are plenty of fortified plant-based milk alternatives like soy milk or almond milk. Choose ones enriched with calcium and vitamin D for similar nutritional benefits.
Beyond the fat
It’s important to remember that low-fat milk might have slightly less fat, but it’s still packed with essential nutrients like calcium, protein, and vitamins. These are crucial for strong bones, healthy muscles, and a robust immune system.
So, is low-fat milk bad for your child?
No, not necessarily. But as with many things in life, it’s not a one-size-fits-all answer. Here’s a quick summary:
Age 1-2: Stick to whole milk.
After 2: Low-fat milk can be an option, but consider individual needs and consult your pediatrician.
Alternatives: Explore fortified plant-based choices for dietary restrictions.
The key takeaway
Remember, there’s no need to demonize low-fat milk, but it shouldn’t be the default choice for young children. Focus on a balanced diet that includes a variety of healthy foods and consult your doctor if you have any concerns about your child’s specific needs. Every kid is unique, and their nutritional needs should be too!
Conclusion
Low-fat milk can be a part of a healthy diet for children after the age of 2, but it’s not a universal recommendation. While it offers essential nutrients like calcium and protein, its lower fat content compared to whole milk might not be optimal for crucial early growth stages.
Focus on
Whole milk for children between 1 and 2 years old.
Individual needs and consult your pediatrician for guidance specific to your child.
A balanced diet rich in a variety of healthy foods.
Frequently Asked Questions (FAQ)
Is low-fat milk bad for my 1-year-old?
Yes. For children between 1 and 2 years old, whole milk is the recommended choice to ensure they get the essential fat for healthy development.
Can I switch my 3-year-old to low-fat milk?
Maybe. If your child has a healthy weight and growth trajectory, low-fat milk can be an option. However, discussing it with your pediatrician is always recommended.
What are good alternatives to low-fat milk for children with dairy allergies?
Fortified plant-based milk like soy milk or almond milk can be good options, but ensure they are enriched with calcium and vitamin D.
How much milk should my child drink?
The exact amount can vary based on your child’s age and individual needs. Consult your pediatrician for specific recommendations.
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terrainofheartfelt · 2 years
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Oh, here’s a question! If Dan and Blair were going to get a place together - assuming one isn’t moving into the other’s space, but they’re getting a whole new place to build their lives together in from scratch - what do you think it might look like, and what do you think the vibe would be? I always thought it was… interesting how at the end of 6x10 we got a glimpse into what Blair and Chuck’s townhouse was like (even though it 100% didn’t feel like them at all), and I’m curious what sort of space Dan and Blair might create together!
So first of all, I have had the MOST fun thinking about this answer so thank you for that. 🤍🤍🤍
This post is brought to you by @strideofpride and her dream home tag.
Okay so, this is an interesting question/premise because for the duration of the show, both Blair and Dan live in their childhood homes, set up by their parents, so like, we get an idea of their tastes, but it’s still adapted from their parents’. But when you compare their rooms, I think there are similarities in what they find comfortable/comforting and they would build their home around that. And though there are some artistic differences, what happens is pretty complementary. The color palette of soft blues and greys (and greens too) with warm lighting and warm & pastel colors in the accents. And when I referred back to their bedrooms, I noticed that Blair actually had a lot of earth tones in her bedroom. Inch-resting.
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More under the cut because I had way too much fun writing this
So, I have made some ~moodboards~ BUT I have been collecting ideas since like, 18 months ago when I started writing Mouthful of Forevers. And on one of my fave blogs, I found this Gramercy Park apartment that I just kind of love for them, not all of the staging & interior design exactly, but the architecture of a renovated abbey, with those WINDOWS?! And the molding and the lighting fixtures and the home offices and the outdoor space. Idk it just feels very Dair to me. (idk anything about the neighborhood don’t @ me. I mean I kinda think it’s too far south for Blair’s taste but it’s not about the location for me on this but The VIBES)
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Oh and ummmm in the Miloverse™ I hint at the Humphreys moving into a bigger house in Brooklyn and I think I like this one for them in that universe. The beauty of writing fic of the rich kid show is that everything’s made up and the price doesn’t matter. thehousehuntingblog is no longer actively posting but her archive is so fun to scroll through, and when I fancy giving myself a visual for a fic, even if I don’t end up writing much about it, that blog is one of the first I go to.
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So a few things I imagine about Their Place
Dan just wants enough room for his books, a place to write, and a sit-in kitchen counter so he can cook and serve breakfast for his family. When Joy Harjo said the world begins at the kitchen table…
And because I’m getting very self-indulgent and much like the gg writers not letting the constraints of NY real estate stop me, my thoughts on the kitchen: I think they both like the feel of the loft kitchen, and that sort of french, mediterranean european kitchen with an airy space, no top cabinets, just open shelving and hanging things. It feels homey like the loft, but also harkens to the time they’ve had in France and Italy.
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Dan is an absolute whore for soft lighting. He hates overhead lighting with the fire of a thousand suns (unless he’s cooking obvi). So, lots of lamps, and Blair loves an elegant lighting feature.
And Dan loves his Stuff. His books, his tchotchkes, his coffee mugs, the blown glass, the wall o’ photos in the loft kitchen.
Blair’s taste is neater than Dan’s, naturally, and leans towards more Victorian & Parisian things rather than the modern, and being who she is she likes touches of luxury and individuality. Things that are hers and no one else's. Which is why Dan’s preferences complement hers, because Brooklyn Boy has an eye for the unique.
She likes Dan’s Things(™) but wants to elevate them
she takes their plethora of photos and frames them to make a gallery wall
Absolutely have the colorful, cozy accents: rugs, cushions, blankets, but made out of the very best materials and fabrics.
Her expensive-ass candles
Every book, record, dvd case has a shelf. spillover piles like his old room make her nervous.
She meticulously organizes their collections, by genre then author & title, or artist, or director (but Audrey is in a collection of her own).
There's a turntable that’s aesthetic-suitable but is top of the line. she gets it as a gift one birthday and/or christmas and he insists that it’s too much but it’s a fight he cannot win
She also gets him an espresso machine and milk frother but her defense for that one is that she wants him to make her lattes so it’s really a gift for her. Evil lil genius.
Speaking of shelving, they have an extensive home library that only grows and grows and grows. Like Nads said, their whole home is a library, so there’s bookcases everywhere, and I love the idea of colorful bookcases. And the more I think about it, the more I like the idea of them having an upright piano in one corner. Musician!Dan supremacy. (Obviously in The Miloverse™ Blair insist on getting one when they move out of the loft).
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They both want a home office space, Dan works from home all of the time, but when they do have kids, Blair also wants the option, but her work from home needs are less—she can get by with a nook in their bedroom or like one in the apt posting I linked above.
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Dan’s office is a definite room with a door that closes, because sometimes he needs to block out the rest of the world, or sometimes Blair needs to lock him in there when he’s on deadline, but again, with The Kids he gets in the habit of leaving it open so they can find him when they need him. The first book he publishes after their first baby is written one naptime at a time with his daughter sleeping on the sofa in his office.
On a related note, I discussed this with S and we agreed that Blair and Dan are both green velvet sofa girls. Like one of these pieces so exists in either Dan’s office or their bedroom.
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And, since this is Blair Waldorf, the master bath is of great importance. Her bathtub is her sanctuary. And I like the idea of taking those soothing deep blues and greens of their color palette and carrying them through into her bathroom. Or, even keeping that sunny warmth from her Pink Bathroom in the penthouse.
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And, of course, these nerds have art everywhere. Forever laughing at the 🪑 home and that godawful painting on the stairwell like what happened to my dictator of taste???
Old film posters
Posters of art museum exhibitions (Mostly from the Met where Blair works)
Vintage Vogue covers
Original pieces when they go gallery cruising. During which they are absolute menaces; they’ll debate and pick apart a piece for hours until ultimately buying it. If there’s a cafe with a tip jar Dan will just preemptively slip cash in there as an apology.
I like to think when their daughter is born (Lizzie Humphrey rights!) Alison does a mural. Maybe about Sarah Kay's “B”? this is my headcanon post so I can do what I want
And Dan is artistically capable enough that I think he would paint flowers or leaves or stars on the wall. (Glow in the dark stars a ala jonah simms send post)
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Oh and some more couch & bedroom inspo, just ‘cause. It’s about luxury meets the cushy and cozy with the warm accents. And they have to have a big comfy couch for movie watchings and game nights and couch sex when they have the place to themselves
Okay so there’s a kidfic that I’ve played in my head but haven’t written of Humphrey fam movie night and ofc Dan and Blair are invested in making their kids pretentious but it ends with their 4-year-old conked out with her head in Blair’s lap and the baby asleep on Dan’s chest and idk if I will write it but the picture makes me very Soft
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All of these images were sourced from S’s dream home tag, thehousehuntingblog, thenordroom on tumblr, and pinterest.
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hi yes im still alive
DON’T MIND ME, I’M JUST--
HAVING A MOMENT TO PROCESS ALL THE LORE AND STORY CHAPTER 6 JUST DROPPED ON US, I CAN BARELY WRITE
AHHHHHHH, I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS 😭 kjdbbaufbiafafvoaybo LEMME PUT ON MY THINKING CAP AND THROW SOME STUFF OUT ASDYUBUASDLI;AGVUOQIB;VI You’ll understand why I used Leona’s face here even though it’s Idia and Ortho’s chapter after you read my thoughts--
***Chapter 6 (and other main story) spoilers below the cut!***
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Okay, just to keep it simple, I’ll try to keep things in chronological order!
First is a bullet point list of my thoughts on chapter 6 so far, then all my questions and theories (mostly a biggish theory on Ace) are at the end of the post.
Expectation: Idia cowering in his room, Vil and Rook busting down his door using Epel as a battering ram, dead Ortho theory confirmed
Reality: SWAT TEAM RAID ON NRC, DORM LEADERS (sans Kalim) AND JAMIL GET KIDNAPPED
Admittedly, I’m disappointed to see that the injury Grim inflicted to MC was basically just a cat scratch and nothing more. I thought it would be a lot more impactful if MC had to deal with juggling the realization that Grim has betrayed their friendship and trust while also on the verge of death (or at least while being severely injured)... And given how MC reacted to the attack at the end of chapter 5, I would think whatever struck them was much more substantial than just a cat scratch. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say either the script got scrubbed by Disney, or the intent was that MC was still woozy from VDC / OB Vil, MC felt so betrayed that it shook them emotionally, or that MC was just that weak by default that they can’t defend themselves against cat claws.
Hey, Ramshackle’s finally getting renovated! Proceeds to immediately get destroyed again--
I feel like????????? They tried to retroactively explain why Neige won to try and mitigate the uproar over how VDC ended. There’s some dialogue between the VDC group about how they didn’t perform at their peak because of having just walked out of dealing with OB Vil, and how Neige’s fans were going to vote for him anyway because they resonated with his background. Honestly, I think they should have moved on from that sore spot instead of bringing it up again, even if how chapter 5 ended didn’t personally bother me.
BOOM, HERE COME THE TWST TERMINATORS--
NOT GONNA LIE, THOSE STYX GUYS LOOK HOT SO COOL
AAAAAAND IT’S KIDNAPPING MONTAGE TIME, KIDS
JOABSFHUPAUABDBADB CALM DOWN, RIDDLE??????? YOU’RE GOING TO COMMIT ARSON IN BROAD DAYLIGHT--
Okay, I know this chapter’s focused on Ignihyde and Grim, but the standout part to me (so far) has been the scene where Leona’s being kidnapped. Historically, Leona has not been a character that I like (excluding that one time I had to pretend to like him for a game). I feel like he’s one massive missed opportunity (he didn’t show up much in chapter 2, he’s pretty similar backstory-wise to his Disney counterpart compared to the other Dorm Leaders, he didn’t seem to learn anything or become a better person even a LITTLE after chapter 2, etc.). I’m not a fan of his lazy and arrogant attitude either (even if it is justified by his backstory). But here? THIS IS THE LEONA I ACTUALLY LIKE AND WANT TO SEE MORE OF. 
LIKE????? I CAN’T DESCRIBE TO YOU HOW MUCH I LIKE THIS SCENE???? Yeah, we have Leona fighting STYX at first, but as soon as he realizes who they are, he wises up and surrenders because he knows better than to resist arrest. AND NOT ONLY THAT, but he uses King’s Roar in a smart way--to turn the falling greenhouse glass panes into sand so they don’t hurt anyone nearby (namely him and Ruggie).
And after he turns himself in????? LEONA TELLS RUGGIE TO TAKE CARE OF SAVANACLAW FOR HIM!!! THIS is what a real leader would do. He looks after himself and his people, but he knows when to surrender, AND he leaves his “kingdom” (the dorm) in good hands while he’s away. THIS is the Leona I want to see.
AJBDUASHPFBUABFIABIYFBIPFAAFIAF I ALSO REALLY LIKE HIS SASS WHEN HE JUST THROWS HIS HANDS UP AND ASDBIASBIABAIODDAYOFAIPPADAIDB SAYS “I’ll go with you, but be careful while escorting me, okay? Despite my looks, I'm a precious prince. I’ll get sick/dizzy if you drive recklessly.” SARCASTIC SASSY SMARTASS??????? IF YOU HAD MORE LINES LIKE THIS, I’D LIKE YOU MORE
I love how Azul’s still talking about capitalism/how he can profit from Idia (apparently the Shrouds are like the TWST equivalent of Google??????) as he’s being escorted away by the agents?????? IF I WERE HIM, I’D BE PISSED OFF THAT THEY INTERRUPTED MY BOARD GAME????? At least let the man finish first--
Damn, everyone’s being tasered???????? And apparently all the STYX agents are equipped with anti-magic plates? I guess Bind the Heart can just eat shit then--
Lilia’s ringtone is cute, period.
CROWLEY CALLED STYX TO CAPTURE GRIM???? GRIM IS OFFICIALLY A SCP THAT NEEDS TO BE CONTAINED????
WAIT WHAT CROWLEY’S BEING KIDNAPPED TOO??????? Oh well, the school is probably safer in Trein’s hands anyway--
askhlbfbilhidbabbidasb RIDDLE WAKES UP POST KIDNAPPING AND HE’S USING LEONA AS A LAP PILLOW?????!
How does it feel to be held in a room against your will, Jamil? Yeah, don’t like a taste of your own medicine, do you?
OH HI IDIA, NICE YZMA MAD SCIENTIST GETUP YOU GOT THERE
Wait, what????? THAT’S IT?????? SERIOUSLY???????
MAN.
I have so many questions??????? Specifically about STYX and what they do, and how the Shrouds are tied into all of it.
So they say STYX is a specialized unit called in to quell serious Overblot cases. And if Crowley called them to deal with Grim... well, bad times ahead for Grim. STYX has also been studying Overblot for a long time, which is why (I think?) they captured Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, and Vil. 
There’s been some allusions made between Grim and Stitch in a lot of fan art and fan theories I’ve seen, since their struggles have some parallels: that being them struggling to decide if they are “good” or “bad”. I don’t know if this was intentional on the part of the TWST writing team, but regardless, it’s a really good concept that plays into the themes of TWST itself. There’s no good, there’s no evil, no black and white--most of the characters we see may be BASED on villains, but that doesn’t MAKE them villains. They are good, and bad, in their own ways--and now Grim is dealing with that crisis as he fights to keep his sanity and avoid completely succumbing to Overblot.
Though Idia seems to be involved with STYX’s research, it doesn’t sound like he personally gave the order to retrieve those test subjects (or at the very least, he’s not happy about roughing up the test subjects), it sounds like the orders came from other people in the organization. His parents, perhaps?
They mention briefly that Idia’s parents are asking him to “come home”, so it must be for something urgent. Are they worried about his safety? But Idia’s lines at the end of chapter 5 lead me to think he is estranged from his family, since he straight up rejected a job offer linked to them (Olympus Corp is owned by the Jupiter family, and the Shrouds are a branch family of Jupier), and says something like “I’m not welcome anywhere”. Has Idia done something to disgrace him from the rest of the family? Or is it more of a self imposed/self inflicted statement, given that he always says he’s “cursed” and acts like he’s guilty of something that deserves scorn?
Why is Idia participating in STYX research, even if it means experimenting on his fellow students (and fellow board game enthusiast Azul)? People are speculating that he wants to use blots to fully revive Ortho (if dead Ortho theory is true), or that Idia actually has heroic intentions (he wants to know more about blots to prevent OBing from happening?), but at this point??? Literally anything could happen?!
In future parts, I’m guessing Pomefiore, MC, and Adeuce will team up to break Jamil and the Dorm Leaders (except Malleus, Malleus got left out again www) out? And HOPEFULLY we get to see Rook’s Unique Magic or at least more screen time, since I feel like he got so little in chapter 5... Another thing I’d like to see is Ace and/or Epel getting their Unique Magic, or at least starting to develop it. It’s really mostly Ace I want more details for.
A theory I’ve been holding onto for a long time is that Deuce getting his UM will spur Ace on to become jealous (since he has always seen Deuce as an idiot/”lesser” than him), and that will cause a rift in the friendship, or for Ace to throw himself into a dangerous situation to prove himself (he has done it before with Riddle)... and has his ass rescued again. This would make Ace even angrier, since he feels like everyone is treating him like a little kid or rubbing it in that he isn’t “as good” as they are. I don’t know where it would go from there (I’m sure TWST would get creative), but ultimately it would culminate in Ace making amends with everyone and rushing in to save them from either Grim or Idia OB.
I don’t think Ace would discover his UM in a similar manner as Deuce (Deuce had to embrace his own stubbornness and straightforwardness, but as the term “Unique” Magic implies, the way a magic develops and manifests is “unique” to the user). While Deuce has to learn to accept his own way of thinking, I believe Ace is already sure of his own way of thinking and has totally accepted it. I think what Ace has to deal with instead is coming to terms with his fickleness. We’ve seen him time and time again treating his loved ones kind of callously, from constantly bullying MC, Grim, and Deuce to ghosting his own girlfriend and flaking on people when they are counting on him to do a task.
The issue with Ace isn’t that he isn’t aware, it’s that he is aware and he seems to think this behavior is totally okay. He demonstrates little to no remorse in what he does and says, and he doesn’t seem to care about the consequences either (how many times does he get punished by Riddle, yet he keeps doing the same dumb things over and over?). Ace appears to operate under the mindset of always being in the right, or (if he’s in the wrong), he won’t really acknowledge it, or he will wave it off as “no big deal”--and I think that’s his greatest weakness.
In the scenario I described earlier, I mentioned that Ace’s jealousy will cause a wedge between him and his friends, and I think this will play into him realizing the error of his ways. When he has finally driven away all of the people that supported him, what will he have left? Nothing. Then maybe Ace suddenly finds himself relating to Idia, or to Grim, who have Overblotted and are in a similar emotional state as he is. Confused and lonely... and that energizes him to pitch in again, even if all he has is wind magic up his sleeve. Everyone could be shocked that Ace has returned, and in that moment, he could finally realize his true potential and unlock his Unique Magic!
(Maybe that’s too specific, but that’s a scenario that I’ve had playing in my head for a long time!)
... Buuuuut given that Ace has gotten little to no spotlight so far in chapter 6, I’m not sure if they’ll lean into him developing his UM yet (unless they pull a chapter 5 and really start addressing Ace in the latter half of the chapter like they did with Deuce). Seeing as chapter 6 is dealing with a lot of heavy topics (death, Grim lore, Overblot lore), I’m thinking maybe the TWST team will push off Ace’s UM development to chapter 7???? The only way I can see it happening in chapter 6 is if the chapter is SUPER long, or if the writing is REALLY good or really bad. 
Anyway, I’m keeping my fingers crossed!!! I’m so excited for the rest of chapter 6... I hope that we don’t have to wait too long for it!
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pens-swords-stuff · 2 years
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Is there a favorite snack or food you have in japan but not the us? Or the other way around?
oh boy do i ever
So American snacks are actually pretty easy to find in Japan, and have been for a few years now. It's actually quite difficult trying to find snacks to bring to my Japanese friends and counsins now when I visit because they can get most of the things in Japan. I've seen cheetos, pringles, doritos, most of the major chip-brands, oreos, cereals, etc. (I don't have much of a sweet tooth and I'm a huge potato chip fan, so that's mostly what I pay attention to. I feel like there are several candies that haven't made their way to Japan yet, but honestly I don't even look for them so I can't say for certain).
I have also been convinced for years that Bugles and Tongari Corn are the exact same snack. Next time I go to Japan, I'm bringing Bugles with me so I can do a taste-test. Yes I know that I could probably look it up on the internet. No, I'm not going to do that, because this is a test that I have to personally do. Please don't tell me if you know the answer; I need to discover it on my own.
On the other hand, Japanese snacks are really difficult to find in America! There are several that have gone more American mainstream like pocky and hi-chew that you can get at basically any American grocery store now. Asian grocery stores also have a small selection of Japanese snacks, but they are pretty pricy and have smaller packaging. I've also found that Asian grocery stores tend to carry more Korean and Chinese snacks over Japanese.
There is this snack called Umai Bou that I love in Japan. When I first discovered it at a local Asian grocery store near me a couple of years ago, it was groundbreaking. I haven't had it in years, and it was the first time I've ever seen it in America and I was so happy. They only have 2 flavors compared to the dozens that are in Japan, but it was such a huge thing for me and my family because oh my god this is finally here???
One of my favorite Japanese snacks is Jagarico that I've never been able to have in America, so after a trip to Japan, I brought back so much and kept it safe and sound for over a year to eat on my birthday. It was valuable. But recently, I've actually started seeing some in my local Asian grocery store and I was actually crying. For two reasons, really: One, I finally had access to it! Two, it was in a much smaller packaging that didn't have nearly as much as the standard packaging, and was also like 5 times more expensive.
Point is: There's not a lot of Japanese snacks I can get where I live. And on the rare occasion that something does make it over, it's really notable and makes me want to cry but also is really really expensive.
Some common Japanese snacks that I find at my local Asian grocery stores include but are not limited to: Kaki no tane, Pero Pero Choco, Nori and salt flavored potato chips, Hot and spicy potato chips, and different kinds of rice crackers.
But! It really depends on where you live. I live in a place with a decent but not too sizable Japanese population. In places with a much larger Japanese community, there are usually Japanese grocery stores like Mitsuwa Marketplace and other ones where they have a much more diverse selection of Japanese goods, food and snacks (and bookstores and bakeries and food courts within the marketplace). You can't get everything there, but they have a lot more than I have in my local Asian grocery stores.
I recently took a trip with my parents to a Mitsuwa market and a couple of other Japanese grocery stores in the area because we needed to stock up on Japanese food. I shamelessly spent a couple hundred on Japanese snacks that I couldn't get back at my place.
I also think you might be able to get some online now, but I haven't looked into that too much.
Below the cut is an incomplete list of Japanese snacks that I love! There are SO many, and this is just off the top of my head. They're pretty unique in that there aren't really America-equivalents that I know of. So while you can find sour cream and onion chips in Japan, you really can't find super similar things in America. I did not include beverages or ice creams or candy because man. That's just an entirely different conversation in it of itself.
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AAPI AMA 2022: Ask me anything about being Japanese!
Remember that these are just my personal experiences and opinions! My thoughts and experiences are not necessarily representative of every Japanese person, and should not be taken as such.
Jagarico
Scone
Galbo
Umai-Bo
Sapporo Potato
Curl
Takenoko no Sato
Caramel Corn
Baby Star Ramen
Potato Fry: Fried Chicken Flavor
Corn Potage Snack
Happy Turn
Chiroru Choco
Kappa Ebisen
Ottotto
Chocoball
Pretz
Jagabee
Bakauke
Kabuki Age
There's so much more but this is making me really hangry so I'm going to stop here! 😭 I want Japanese snacks so badly
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seventeenfluff · 3 years
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Vernon as your Boyfriend
a/n hello hello merry christmas my dear friends omg i really love Christmas holidays ��❤❤ i hope that today and tomorrow will be a good day for you :) And also this account is close in reaching 170 followers and it is the best gift i receive this year!!!! I have alot of plan for this blog and i really hope you'll continue supporting me. Thank you :) Happy holidays everyone, and if you don't celebrate Christmas, i hope that you will be spending this day merrily ^^
Previous Member: BOO SEUNGKWAN
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Dating THE Hansol Vernon Chwe is literally having the man of your dreams (not that other Seventeen members wouldn't be able to compare) but if Mingyu got the crown for husband material, Vernon has the crown for being the most boyfriend material in seventeen
he is literally the best match for someone who has an issue with their self esteem because Vernon is the king when it comes to self love. He is someone who could influence you in hugging your own uniqueness
Vernon is someone whom your parents would approved of (i mean look at the face though) because the way he acts and treats you is so respectful they knew you found a good man at heart
Vernon would never be angry at you. Like in my opinion, I feel like Vernon is someone who rarely gets angry at all. He's like that guy who lets everything pass by very easily.
But dont expect Vernon to stay in a toxic relationship though, I am very certain that Vernon is that kind of person who is not afraid to speak his mind so if he thinks that something would bring negativity in his life, he would cut it off without a doubt.
Vernon is very sweet and attentive but he is not an affectionate person
Also not the type of person who would initiate physical affection but someone who would never say no for it
Talking to Vernon about his world view is really entertaining because everytime you guys do it, it will end up with you gaining new insights about everything
Vernon is also the type of guy who doesn't care about what the public would say about his relationship
so if for example (one of the) members doesn't like you, the fans/company does not approve of your relationship, Vernon wouldn't be carried by the tide and would continue swimming the current.
But if his family is the one who is against your relationship, that's really a different matter.
Vernon is a hardworking person but unlike Woozi who's life literally revolves around his career, I think Vernon is someone who knows how to balance his work-life cycle.
Kinda passive aggressive to be honest so if you're the same and/or has a problem with this kind of attitude, relationship might become bumpy.
Love language includes time and affirmation
But just like Mingyu, Vernon does not scream I love you to your face everyday, but more like you did well you're amazing, I miss you, you look beautiful today, etc. etc.
Really chill. I know this is so cliche but posts that claims Vernon as a chill person are all correct. He is that kind of boyfriend who really lives riding the waves, so whatever your heart desire, he would support and be part of it.
If you know how Vernon treats his mom and his sister, expect that he would treat you the same, sometimes even more.
Vernon is also that kind of guy you could talk to very easily even on the first day. He knows how to make someone very comfortable without actually trying too hard.
Really performs his boyfriend duties very well lmao he would never miss texting you good morning, have you eaten already, good night everyday :)
Also supplies you meme contents lol
Vernon is someone who appreciates beauty inside. He really doesn't care of whatever you look as long as you are nice and kind.
I feel like Vernon's ideal type is someone who really vibes with him. You know, has the same taste in music, same taste in movies, same wavelength of sense of humor, same fashion sense, etc.
If you two had a fight, Vernon isn't that kind of guy who would want to fix the problem immediately.
He is the type of guy who would want to sleep it off first, or to get some fresh air, to make sure the two of you has already calmed down
No he won't address a problem with his emotions still keeping him under control
Unlike Dokyeom who always apologizes first whoever is at fault, Vernon is someone who wouldn't apologize immediately specially if he knows that he is right and you are wrong.
He would never scream at you. Fighting with Vernon includes hush voices, cold shoulders, sarcasm and passive aggressiveness.
but as I've said before, this is very rare. Really really really really rare occassions.
Doesn't really gets jealous very easily, Vernon is someone who completely puts his trust to his s/o and it is up to you how would you use and take care of it.
Next Member: Lee Chan (Dino)
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keiyoomi · 3 years
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the three dishes | m. osamu × food reader
details: 900+ words | fluff | filo!reader, self-indulgent
summary: can osamu spot the differences between afritada, menudo, and caldereta?
note: there were four similar dishes, actually. there’s also mechado, but i kinda forgot about it. 😂 anyway, this is a bit self-indulgent.
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When your parents took your husband to the wet market with them, you were silently hoping that they would make you tag along. But your husband, being an amiable person that he is, didn’t even asked your parents if you could come with them.
After partially cleaning your house, the three of them returned while carrying numerous ecobags that were filled with ingredients for the upcoming party later.
“I’ll show you how to make those dishes,” your mom told your husband while grinning. “You can try making them for your friends once you return to Japan.”
“Is that even possible?” Osamu asked, his voice filled with curiosity as he stares at the ingredients they bought. “Using almost the same ingredients for different dishes?”
“As long as you’ll use something like pork or beef when you’re making them.” Osamu’s forehead suddenly furrowed. “Some of these dishes won’t taste that good if you’ll use chicken.”
You placed the broom and dustpan back to where you kept them before walking towards your husband.
“You weren’t able to try those dishes before, right?” you asked, remembering how disappointed Osamu was when he forgot to ask your mother to make those dishes you’ve been telling him about.
“Yeah. We’ve already boarded when I remembered it,” he replied before kissing your forehead. “Ah, right. We bought some sapin-sapin and plain puto earlier today.”
You reached out for the bags and searched for a plastic with banana leaf in it. “How about you? Have you tried these native delicacies earlier?”
Osamu nodded his head almosy immediately. The gleam in his eyes were so bright that you were almost jealous of the food he ate earlier. “I tried ube halaya and maja blanca, but biko is still my favorite.”
“A well-made biko would single-handedly defeat every native delicacy available,” you said before taking a bite from the sticky delicacy in your hand. While chewing, you noticed your husband’s burning gaze towards your hand. “Samu?”
He blinked, the tips of his ears turning more and more pinkish. “I-I was just curious.” Osamu rubbed the back of his neck before looking at you. “How is it possible to add three colors without mixing them?”
“Well, first—” You began telling him what you know. The colorful sticky dessert that you were holding was already forgotten as you explain the process of how sapin-sapin was done. “—it was fascinating to watch.”
Osamu couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you share what you’ve watched in the past. Although he knew that it was probably something that you weren’t planning to watch at all. ‘That look on her face reminds me of that time we watched Atsumu and Bokuto-san pounding the rice before.’
“Ahem.” He blinked before glancing at your parents who were grinning at him. “Baka matunaw,” one of them commented followed by a snicker.
“Come on, stop teasing my adorable husband,” you said before wrapping your arms around him. “Well, ’Samu. Would you like to help us prepare the ingredients we’ll use?”
He nodded his head in response.
Shortly after, everything that you’ll be using were already on the table, washed and properly cut. Then, they began making three different dishes using the same ingredients, from the meat to the vegetables, while adding more ingredients that would make each dishes unique in their own way.
“All done!” you mother announced after placing each dishes into three separate bowls. “Try it.”
The dish in the first bowl is called afritada. “So, this is the most basic version of these three dishes. It’s made up of pork, potatoes, carrots, and tomato sauce. Of course there’s also salt and pepper added but that’s it.”
Osamu looked at the bowl with a sauce that has thinner sauce compared to the other two. He took a spoonful of it before he looked at your mother. “It’s tasty.”
Your mother grinned while nodding. “Good. Good. Next one.”
He first tried menudo, which was made up of the same ingredients used in afritada, but this time a chicken liver is added. The way the ingredients were cut was also different.
“It’s delicious.”
“You like it now? Well, try the last one.”
The last one’s caldereta. There was supposedly a fourth one, but one of your relatives said that they’ll be the one to make it. Anyway, it’s made of the same ingredients as afritada, but more flavorful. Cheese, liverspread, and red bell pepper were added to this dish. It also has the thickest sauce among all these dishes
Osamu’s eyes twinkled upon tasting the last dish. It was as if he was enchanted by the last dish.
He was speechless!
“Let’s eat first before they arrive one family after another,” your mother said while placing the bigger servings of the three dishes on the table. You placed the rice in the middle before setting the plates in front of your husband and your place and as well as your parents’ spot.
It was probably one of the most peaceful mornings that you’ve spent while visiting the country with your husband, but the day was just getting started.
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bryan360 · 2 years
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Here’s my note before I’ll get started….
(DON’T YOU EVER COPY FROM MINE OR MY FRIEND’S WORK, CHARACTERS, AND STUFF IF ONE OF YOU ARE IMPOSTERS WHO HAD HABITS OF PLAGIARISM! I WILL BLOCK YOU FROM MY BLOG IF I SEE YOUR POST WITH MINE OR MY FRIEND’S ORIGINAL WORK BEING EDITED ALL OVER! I’LL EVEN SHARE IT ONTO MY BLOG SO IF EVERYONE WILL SEE THAT YOU TRYING TO COPY MINE OR MY FRIEND’S THINGS FOR NO GOOD REASON WHATSOEVER! That will be all….I mean it.)
My own “Take a Taste”: Burger King Meals’ 🍔🥓Bacon Cheeseburger, 🍟Medium Fries, and 🍪Cookie ‘n’ Cream Milkshake
What’s up guys! Thought I’m wanted to make this food post for 2022 going on while giving some details of the flavor from my taste buds. My friend @murumokirby360 did his when it comes to unique and delicious looking meals he’s gotten from previous post shares. So why not if I could show you mine that my parents give me back in ❤️February. 26th during dinner time? Hope you'll gonna like this, but differently.
⬆️ 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Images
As you can see back in February. 26th, 2022 while at my blog and another stuff, my family; especially my mom order us Burger King Meals that we've been having those from years, but decided to start off by making its review something to worth seeking. This one is special though because of three item meals I'm having; especially the other one was a sweet dessert drink to even dunk on some fries. 😋 Here it is: Burger King's Bacon Cheeseburger, Medium Fries, and Cookie 'n' Cream Milkshake. That's really something, right?
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⬆️ 4th and 5th Images
First off was taking a closer look of this bacon cheeseburger that I’ve had those before, but the quality from Burger King being made was mouth watering worthy to compared other burgers. Still I haven’t got to take a break from it yet which that comes later. At least they got the bacons right as I opened up the bun to took a look on the inside; especially with condiments of ketchup and mayo spread while the gooey cheese in it too. Can’t wait to take a bite off while giving my thoughts a try.
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⬆️ 6th Image
However I may taking a sip of this milkshake drink to sweeting my taste buds; especially using some fries to dunk on which I’ll get that in a short moment. While putting a straw and taking a sip though is quite good for its sweetness like taking milk and cookies into one. That’s something because I always having them before going to bed at nighttime. 😴🌙
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⬆️ 7th, 8th, 9th Images
Now we're getting into the fries part which I believe they're medium size. Apologize a bit of not showing a bite of the fries while doing in progress to snack on afterwards. Nevertheless, it was not bad for my taste as much it wasn't too salty. So that's a thumbs up, right? 🙂👍🏼 Hope to see if it's edible when I dunk through the milkshake though? I'm using one fry to use it, but oh man was it good or what?! Okay maybe too excited when I taste it with a milkshake dunk, but it was not bad when knowing the sweet flavors to have. Just saying after dunking some fries with my milkshake was 😋.
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⬆️ 10th and 11th Images (edited by PicsArt)
Now let's get into the final part: Taking a bite of a bacon cheeseburger or in actuality a Double Patty Bacon Cheeseburger as I should've change its title, but man does it shows! When taking a bite out of it, it was amazing while getting messy to clean up my foldable table later. Meanwhile having this burger into my hand was delicious with its bacon to taking out easily with my mouth sometimes. Though hoping I would to burn out my calories later on, but at least knowing when getting through my food review of 2022.
Overall Thoughts:
Having this Burger King meal was a thumbs up for my taste; especially when to remember having other meals from the past that had good quality and texture. Whether good or not so good ones, having a bacon cheeseburger, medium size fries and a milkshake is an interesting choice. Wondering if I'll having those again for another day? Hard to tell, but I'm pretty much hoping not too much depend of my choosing to have less calories.
Hope you'll guys like this food review I've been saving. Though if you asking about making this series to continue, well I'm pretty much open for that idea while seeking an interesting food from my family about to give me when its Breakfast, Lunch, or Dinner. However it depend of choosing will I'll going forward or not, but at least knowing it was good to try it out as checking my P-Pal's. Just hoping I won't to carry away too much while I'm trying to do other item reviews for my wireless earbuds.
@murumokirby360 @carmenramcat @alexander1301
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otomegema · 3 years
Text
title: Convergence Theory, ch. 2 pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader summary: You are a lesser family member of the Gojo clan, so far removed you don’t even carry the name, but you carry the Limitless ability and thus the potential to be a bride to the future head of the clan— a fact you patently reject at fifteen. Twelve years later you are a second grade sorcerer struggling to obtain first grade status when the object of your deepest objections offers you a deal. rating: mature tropes: fake dating/engagement, rivals to lovers, slow romance Link: Archive of Our Own
It had been a logical move to allow Gojo to take down your number, entering it into his contacts with an obscene amount of heart and wishing star emojis by the brief glance you caught over his shoulder. It looked like he was already banking on your acceptance of the deal, but when you parted, your to-go sushi in a small plastic bag, you hadn’t expected to hear from him until tomorrow evening at the latest.
Or maybe even never.
But now, back in the hotel you were being comped for while in Tokyo, you wished silently that you’d never given that man your cell phone number.
Honey
Baby
Future-pretend-love-of-my-life
Have you made a decision?
He wasn’t human. It was barely 6am, did he wake up this early for lessons every day? You groaned, nearly swatting the phone off the nightstand in the dark.
You shot back a fast reply.
-oh I’m sorry
-I’m still recovering from getting electrocuted the other day
-Some asshat led a curse to me
You rolled over, managing to get at least another decent half hour of sleep in before the phone chimed again, lighting up the darkened hotel room.
\(★ω★)/
YOUR asshat
Should you choose to accept this mission
You threw off your covers, forcing yourself up to sit against the stack of pillows behind you as you tapped out a reply.
-My pretend asshat
-Mother will be so proud
The dots of his reply began immediately.
So is that a yes?
You sighed, rolling your eyes to yourself.
-Day isn’t over -Hasn’t even started tyvm
The dots began. Stopped. Began and stopped again, this time not reappearing. You tossed your phone onto the bed and teetered up and over to the coffee maker. The pot was finishing brewing by the time your phone chimed again.
You’re so slow.
The addition of punctuation and the sudden lack of emoji seemed almost like a warning flare that Gojo’s patience was waning. But you hardly knew the man and really, what did you care? A favor for a favor was what he offered. You didn’t owe him anything.
I have other options too.
His text continued and for a moment you frowned, wondering if his intention was to have that sound like a threat. You felt heat rising in your throat— he didn’t want to play that game.
So no pressure. Genuinely.
Oh. Good. That was better. You felt the tension uncoil as fast as it had grown.
Tho I AM your only hope for advancement <3
You could have thrown the phone right through the wall. Your thumbs worked rapidly, shooting out your reply in no time.
-Ah yes, your finest quality
A quick appearance of dots.
My special grade ranking? (・ω<)☆
You smirked.
-Humility
You’re no fun.
Text me when you are done being boring.
This was probably the most you had ever spoken to Gojo, despite having seen him on and off from a distance for the better half of your life. He was hard to miss. Every event at the main house would have him and his immediate family at the forefront. No one ever stopped talking about Gojo Satoru and his accomplishments and his strength and his skill as a sorcerer.
It was nauseating, having to pretend to nod and smile like it was all some great blessing just to orbit near him. It was bad enough he read like a sun to your abilities, as if he needed to be made to think he was anymore of the center of the universe.
Your palm itched. The desire to tap back a response now, a firm denial, very strong. But not stronger than your excitement at the possibility of being a first grade sorcerer. It was everything you had wanted. Prestige, recognition, tougher missions and the pay and rewards that came with them.
You were no weakling. Sure the telemetry technique took you out of commission, but it was hardly your greatest feat. You had finally been able to manifest the cursed technique lapse, blue. Granted, it was a one off and exhausted you so fully afterwards that you nearly fainted on the spot… but your tolerance was getting better. The precision of your manipulation of your cursed energy would never be on par with Gojo, but you could, some day, maybe even manage to shoot the technique off twice.
Reversal Red was next to impossible. And Hollow Technique? Truly impossible. The Six Eyes was needed to even attempt it. Most of your practice had been devoted to perfecting your long distance teleportation skills, fine tuning your telemetry technique and working on establishing your domain. That one was easier. The Unlimited Void crushed your opponent beneath an overload of sensory information, information you could easily channel and tap into with your own unique skills as a Limitless user.
But like all things, you were only second best. And barely. It was a joke. Comparing yourself to Gojo. He was on a level you could never achieve— unless.
You grabbed your phone, hastily dialing the new number and wincing at the loud, cheerful greeting from the other line.
“Good morning, moon of my soul, tenderest heart, darling—!“
“I haven’t even said yes yet, you monster.”
“Ah! A name of my very own? Be still my trembling heart!”
“I wish to make an amendment to the agreement.”
There was a lengthy pause. You could practically hear the slow spread of that sly smile. Content as the cat who caught the canary.
He knew he was about to win.
“Let’s hear it.”
“If you are putting my name forward for first grade, that means you have someone else in mind to be the second backer and someone in mind for me to shadow on missions and train with, yeah?
“I do.” Gojo said, his tone surprisingly serious.
“Have them put my name forward instead. I want to shadow you.”
Gojo laughed, a short mirthless thing, “What makes you think I have the time?”
“You have enough time to play pretend, I’d think any fiancé would leap at the chance to be with his lovely wife-to-be and keep her safe.”
Gojo hummed.
“Why me?”
This was an oddly familiar conversation.
“Purely selfish reasons. You are the best Limitless user. I am a Limitless user. I want you to teach me.”
“You aren’t on my level.” He said, no malice in his words, just simple facts.
“Then teach me what I can handle.”
There was another pause.
“I’m not gonna go easy on you just because you’re my girl.”
The bare utterance of the endearment sent a shiver up your arms and not an entirely pleasant one either. His girl. God, how would you even begin to explain this fake engagement to your parents? Who knew the depth of your jealousy and bitterness over Gojo since you were— what? Five? Younger?
“Since I am just your ‘pretend’ girl, I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
“Your funeral, babe.” Gojo said, “But I’m glad we resolved this early! Because we are having dinner. Reservations are made, I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something pretty!”
Your words caught in your throat, stuttering across your tongue and unable to force out before the line cut off and he was gone.
You pressed the edge of your phone to your temple, already feeling a headache coming on. Something pretty? Shit.
-Something pretty? -Too vague. I have no idea what I’m supposed to wear.
A dress! Something for the evening. A Line.
V Neck def
Show off what puberty gave ya (^〃^)
Chiffon with ruffle lace
And grey-blue
-Why?
To match my eyes <3
-Where in the world do you expect me to find that specific dress in the next few hours
Downstairs with hotel staff I had it dropped off <3 <3 <3
-That’s creepy
(つω`。) </3 </3
-Enough with the hearts -How much? I’ll pay you back
It is a gift <3
-How’d you even know my size
A gentleman never reveals his secrets
┐(‘~` )┌
You sighed and set aside your phone to call down to the front desk. Sure enough, a few minutes later someone brought up a large white box, tied with a grey-blue ribbon. You set the package on the small counter in your room’s kitchen and opened the lid, brushing aside soft tissue paper.
The dress was ridiculously soft, made of fine, nearly translucent layers of chiffon. It was a lovely color, the sight making you suddenly think of the feeling in the air before a thunderstorm, the smell of rain. The ribbon matched.
You looked for a price tag and found none, but folded away at the bottom of the box was a hand written receipt. You paled at the figure displayed on it.
-Gojo, I can’t possibly accept this.
Don’t be stupid. No one would believe I was serious about a woman unless I was positively spoiling her rotten. s’not like it broke the bank!
-Forget the first-grade rec
-Pay my bills
Too late! Negotiations are closed :)
-So what the hell am I doing at this dinner?
Eating Duh and being seen with yours truly easy peasy right?
You sipped your coffee, keeping the mug well away from the dress. It was certainly nicer than anything you had ever owned in— well. Ever. It was hard to argue that there were clearly going to be some additional perks to this arrangement you hadn’t previously thought of.
Plus we gotta go over some ground rules
-Thought you said negotiations were closed
-This mean we can revisit my bills?
g2g
Students need me!
Ttyl babe
The ease in which that man showered you so soon with endearments was nauseating. Had he ever even had a girlfriend before? Or just those usual moon-eyed women who fawned and petted him?
And now everyone was gonna think you were one of those girls. You drank your coffee faster, relishing in the way it burned down your throat and overpowered the bad taste in your mouth.
“First-grade… first-grade. Remember the first-grade.”
And training. You’d squeeze every possible benefit from this arrangement out that you could. Sorcerers worked in teams, but at the end of the day, it was every man and woman for themselves.
Let them think what they want when you were seen tonight. You would come out on top.
***
The day passed quickly and you found yourself standing in front of the hotel mirror, twisting back and forth to get a feel for the movement of the dress— and half practicing staying upright in the heels that had arrived not even a moment later.
They were high enough to be appealing, but low enough to keep you from falling over on your face. Gojo had texted an explanation that he figured you were out of practice in wearing anything other than sneakers and combat boots and to consider them training wheels.
You’d wanted, once again, to punch him in the face.
The kind of girl he liked was a stilettos kinda girl, you guessed, huffing to yourself as you sat down and twirled one of your ankles, stretching the muscle. Even the low heels were not entirely comfortable, but you’d manage.
Checking your makeup one last time, you picked up your own worn purse and slung it over your shoulder. Women who wore these kind of dresses and came in on the arm’s of other men and women like Gojo never had anything more than the smallest clutch— but you weren’t those women.
You made your way down to the lobby and were surprised to find a chauffeur waiting outside with a very very sleek European car of some kind. You weren’t great about those kinds of things, only noting the seats were made with soft black leather and there was even a divider built in like in a limo to give the passengers privacy.
The chauffeur ushered you into the empty car and you sat back with a sigh as silently he delivered you to the next destination. You had, in some small place, hoped Gojo would already be present.
Why he felt the need for such spectacle was beyond you, but maybe this was what was expected of a clan family son when he courted a young woman. It felt— weird. Nice, but weird. The drive was not overly long, the car coming to stop.
You knew this restaurant. Some fancy French-Japanese fusion place that charged a hundred dollars for a single plate with a broiled pear covered in wasabi or some weird shit. Already you felt your stomach churning with anxiety and encroaching regret.
This was gonna suck.
This was gonna suck so bad.
The chauffeur opened the door and you barely managed not to wobble on the pavement. Feeling stilted and exposed as other guests and couples regarded you with open curiosity and veiled judgment.
Clearly they were used to seeing the same people come and go from this restaurant and you were not one of them.
You clutched your bag tighter to your arm, hand reaching inside instinctively to find your phone and text Gojo you were out. This was over. Find someone else— when your surname was shouted from the door.
All eyes turned as if in sync to Gojo, wearing simple trousers and a white shirt tucked in. He didn’t even have a tie or a jacket, his dark glasses obscuring his eyes even as he looked right at you.
A few people tsked their disapproval, but they may as well have been ghosts for all the attention Gojo paid them. When you didn’t immediately make your way over to him, Gojo shoved his hands into his pockets and strode over to meet you.
He grinned, the lowering of his chin and the slow rise back up an obvious indicator he was sizing you up and didn’t care if you knew.
He whistled.
“Ow, ow!”
“Shut it— you know this dress could cover my rent for half a year?! And these shoes! I could buy a used car with this ensemble.”
“You even drive?”
“Not the point.”
He laughed again, loud and careless.
“Figured since you were dawdling you might need an arm to lean on.” Gojo said, offering your his elbow without removing his hands from his pockets, “Or perhaps…”
He feigned a gasp, “Are you feeling shy?”
“I’m leaving.” you deadpanned, managing half a turn before his hand was on your waist, turning you back. He took your hand, the feeling of his palm on your side still burned into your skin as he hooked your arm in his own.
You allowed it, leaning on him only a little. He looked pleased, smugly so, as he led you inside and to a table that was already set for two.
There was a wine glass sitting by your own plate. The one by Gojo’s was turned upside down and set to the side… a can of soda sitting, bright and out of place, in its spot.
“… where did you even get that.”
“Vending machine.” Gojo said simply and even kicked your chair out a little for you to take a seat. How flattering.
“Wine is for you, if you want it. Figured it might help take the edge off.”
You rolled your eyes, not bothering to wait for the server to return and simply tipping the bottle of red into your own glass.
“What about you?”
“I don’t drink.” He said, cracking the tab on his soda with a loud pop. Several eyes filtered your way, whispers behind hands and napkins as Gojo all but drained the can in one gulp.
“So— ground rules?” you said, unfolding a cloth napkin and settling it in a half folded triangle across your lap the way you saw other women doing.
“Straight in, huh? Alright. Terms.” Gojo lifted one finger, “As already discussed, you and I will be ‘courting’— dating. Whatever the fuck. I’ll take care of arranging the dates, you show up, act sufficiently smitten and in about a year give or take, we break up.”
Gojo lifted a second finger, “Two. In exchange, I have two first grade sorcerers who will back your promotion. And, as requested—“ Gojo’s voice dropped a fraction, almost grumpily, “—you’ll come with me on my missions for your first semi-grade probation.”
“Now ground rules. At any point either of us wants out, it’s done. No questions asked. But don’t think that means you get to ditch and just keep that first grade appointment. I’ll make sure you end up right back at a grade two.”
You sipped your wine, giving your mouth something to do than form some very choice words at that moment. Gojo noticed, his smile almost a snarl, but the expression quickly vanished. You had a funny feeling trying to hoodwink or swindle him would end very poorly for anyone.
“And when you develop feelings for me—“
“If.” You amended quickly, but Gojo ignored you.
“—when you develop feelings for me. You have to tell me and again, the engagement is over. You can keep your rank. No harm no foul. I can hardly blame you for falling for me.” Gojo said with a wistful sigh. You were grateful for the arrival of the first course, forcing you both to fall silent for a moment until they departed.
You had no idea what was on the plate. Some kind of salad? It was hardly a mouthful. Gojo didn’t even touch his silverware and feeling less than impressed with the cuisine, you didn’t either.
You drank your wine.
“Barring sickness or injury you are required to appear for every date I set. Including the ones where you have to meet other members of the main family.”
You frowned, but didn’t object.
“Wait— what about you?”
“What about me?”
“Is the engagement off when you develop feelings for me?” You said lightly, trying to play off your smile as wistful.
Gojo scoffed, his reaction almost enough to hurt your feelings… just a little bit.
“Non-issue. I don’t do feelings.”
“God, you sound like a fuck boy.” The words came out before you could stop yourself, the last syllable off your tongue right at the moment the server had returned to reclaim your plates. An eyebrow was raised and you hid your face down with a flustered cough.
By the time you looked back up, you got the joy of seeing Gojo staring at you from over his glasses, a broad and deeply amused grin on his face.
“Not non-issue. If I get the feelings rule you get the feelings rule. End discussion.”
Gojo shrugged, again not touching the newest course which was, to your extreme annoyance, some kind of grilled pear.
“You should slow down.” He warned in a sing song voice as you poured another glass.
“I’m not a baby— okay. So we got terms, we got ground rules. Anything else?”
“You can’t refuse my gifts.”
Your eyes narrowed sharply and he simply smiled and hummed with a shrug.
“It’s for appearances! Oh. Speaking of appearances—“ Gojo sat up, fishing something from his back pocket and sitting it on the table. You stared at the simple black box, fearing a vein might burst in your forehead at any moment.
“What is that.” You stated more than asked.
“Open it.” Gojo said, his voice light and encouraging as he nudged the box closer, “Come on, open it. Open it. You know you wanna, sweetie, light of my life, fire of my lo—“
You snatched the box up if only to stop him from finishing that sentence.
You swallowed hard, the sounds of the room fading out as you flipped open the box and found, sitting upon a small satin pillow— a… key?
You lifted it from the box, noting it even had a little custom keychain made to look like a white cat with a tiny blindfold.
“It’s to my apartment!” Gojo announced with a giddy laugh, clasping his hands together in a way that was entirely un-adult like.
“… I have my own place. Thank you.”
“In Kyoto. This is here, in Tokyo. Where you will need to stay for this all to work, remember?”
“Where will you stay?” You asked dryly, vaguely hoping his answer would be something other than what it was no doubt going to be.
“Very funny. You’ll have your own room—if you want it.”
“Why—“ your voice nearly broke and you had to take a moment to clear it, “Why uh— why wouldn’t I be wanting my own room?”
“Feelings are off limits, naturally. But if you want to take me up again on that offer from back in the day…”
The surge of cursed energy that rippled off of you was so strong Gojo nearly toppled backwards, his laugh gaining a somewhat nervous lift to it if only for just a moment.
“I’ll have my own room. My own locked room.” You bit out, feeling your face flushing hot and hating every second Gojo seemed to be enjoying your utter mortification, “Unless that is a problem.”
“Nope. Not at all. Probably for the best ultimately, I’ve been told I have a bad habit of dickmatizing folks.”
“… I’m sorry, you what.”
“Dickmatizing! Ya know. Like hypnotizing but with—“
“I got it!” You groaned, pressing your face into your hand. When did it get so damn hot in here? You snatched up your wine glass and finished off the contents, feeling even hotter.
“Is that all?”
“Unless anything comes to your mind, then yep.” Gojo finished, ignoring yet another course. You were almost tempted. The dish was some kind of meat, but the sauce drenched over it smelt sharply of something bitter and sour at the same time. You stomach recoiled at the thought and yet rumbled in protest to its growing hunger.
“So what do you think?”
“You’re disgusting?” you said flatly.
“I meant about the deal.”
You glowered openly at him. It was going to take a lot of practice to turn that deprecating expression you felt naturally pull unto your face at his sight into something loving and tender… but for first-grade ranking? For lessons on your Limitless? Fuck. Fuck you’d do it.
You poured the remainder of the bottle into your glass and polished it off in one shot.
“I accept.”
Gojo clapped his hands together, “Excellent! Now let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Huh?” You barely managed to get the questioning sound out before Gojo was up and out of his chair. You scrambled up, head rushing with the wine and the weirdness of this entire conversation. By the time you managed to catch up with him, he snaked out his arm and wrapped it around your waist, pulling you flush and warm against his side.
You about threw him across the room, but your attempts at a grapple were thwarted by the sudden thrumming of the familiar Neutral Limitless ability, stalling your moments to such a small speed you felt suddenly frozen.
The impulse to toss him passed and instead you let him escort you outside where the car was still waiting.
“Take us to the place, ya know the one.” Gojo said to the driver and in a surprising show of gallantry, actually held the door open for you to get in first.
“And open the back window. If she throws up, I’d rather it be on the pavement.”
You elbowed him in the chest— accidentally of course.
***
The car drive was a bit longer, taking you away from the glitz and glamor of this side of Tokyo and to what looked arguably as one of the most hole-in-the-wall noodle joints you had ever seen. The street kitchen was small, the counter open outside with a few bar stools. The smells of teriyaki and spices and cooking oils were heavy in the air and made your mouth water.
Gojo perched on one of the stools and you came to sit alongside him, watching as he ripped open a set of chopsticks and rubbed the splinters off.
He ordered quickly—yakisoba and yakitori. Along with several packages of mochi they kept behind the counter in the same kinda plastic bags you’d find at a convenience store.
Gojo had been right— you should have slowed down. The world had a light haze to it… a slight tilting. His hand on your back felt massive and overly warm as he guided you back to sitting straight.
“Eat, ya lush.” He ordered, piling noodles and chicken unto a smaller empty plate for you from his own, “C’mon.”
Gojo popped one of the mochi bags and dumped the sticky sweet confection right on top of your yakisoba. You grimaced, picking the sweet off and trying to wipe some of the sauce from it before you took a generous bite.
The food was greasy and delicious and abundant and cheap and your mouth was in heaven. Even having not used your Limitless since yesterday, every taste still felt heightened. Maybe it was the way your cursed powers tried to compensate from the wine, but everything somehow was more delicious.
You attempted to snag another piece of yakitori from Gojo’s plate, only to have your chopsticks blocked with a clack.
“Ah ah ah— hands off.”
“What’s yours is mine, right?” You chided, only to be dodged again in a movement faster than your eyes could perceive. Did he just use his Limitless to counter you? Feeling emboldened, you activated your own, the faint pulse of the energy so close together giving you the sort of deflecting feeling one experiences when holding two sides of the same magnet near together.
Repelling, shifting. Trying to shove the energy into a way that the two forces would collide rather than deflect.
You were concentrating fully. The minuscule movements invisible to even your eyes, but the feeling was there. A sort of blindsight where you didn’t need the Six Eyes to tell you what was happening— but it would have definitely helped. You flicked a glance up and lost your control, your chopsticks shooting away and nearly cracking one in two.
Gojo chuckled. It was the expression on his face that had distracted you. His eyelids were half dropped, his smile soft as he readied himself to deflect you again. Your energy was no match for his… but it matched. It was made of the same stuff. Controlled the same way. He could see, with the sharp clarity of his Six Eyes, every tiny precise movement you made with your cursed energy. A mirror of his own abilities in miniature.
He was playing with you. And all the sudden you felt as if a small knot in your chest had shaken free, the coil coming undone.
Was there anyone else on this Earth you could do such a thing with?
Feeling strange and suddenly shy, you drew your energy back in and refocused on eating from your own plate, grumbling at your loss.
A second later, Gojo’s chopsticks moved over your plate, dropping another helping of noodles in.
A small concession. A victory in it's own right, even if it had not won the yakitori.
“Sober up, will ya? But don’t eat too fast. I’m not cleaning up vomit, no way, no how.”
“You’re always so vulgar.” you murmured, speaking around a mouthful of noodles and mochi. Gojo turned and stuck his tongue out at you. A confirmation or a reprisal, you couldn’t be sure.
But regardless, it did something to you he had never managed to do before.
It made you laugh.
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