Lunar Eclipse

- i love the moon as she loves me ; private rp blog run by [RUNE]

[moonwrvttcn]

- written by RUNE ! (they/he, pst, 25+)

semi-selective indie rp blog. multi-muse. minors DNI. dms are open for general chatter or interest!

.guidelines .wanted plots

[dystincts]

⟡ 𝗖𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗘𝗗 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗘𝗥 : for @moonwrvttcn !!

𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 : clover + reyan !

months  had  passed  since  that  first  dreadful  day  at  the  hospital.  months  of  early  mornings,  shared  coffee  runs,  dinners  eaten  at  her  kitchen  table,  and  quiet  visits  spent  sitting  beside  her  father's  hospital  bed  together.  somewhere  along  the  way,  the  lines  had  blurred.  what  had  begun  as  gratitude  had  slowly  become  comfort,  and  what  had  become  comfort  had  somehow  transformed  into  something  far  more  dangerous.  clover  had  tried  not  to  examine  it  too  closely.  she  told  herself  it  was  admiration.  respect.  fondness.  anything  other  than  what  it  actually  was.  because  acknowledging  it  meant  acknowledging  the  impossible  reality  that  she  had  developed  feelings  for  her  father's  best  friend.  feelings  for  the  man  who  had  patiently  held  her  together  during  one  of  the  hardest  periods  of  her  life.

unfortunately  for  her,  alcohol  had  never  cared  much  for  denial.

the  evening  had  started  innocently  enough.  one  of  the  senior  associates  at  the  firm  had  successfully  closed  a  particularly  difficult  case,  which  naturally  turned  into  a  celebration  dinner,  which  naturally  turned  into  drinks,  which  somehow  turned  into  many,  many  drinks.  by  the  time  the  barbecue  grills  had  gone  cold  and  the  servers  were  politely  trying  to  encourage  patrons  to  head  home,  clover's  cheeks  were  warm,  her  laughter  came  too  easily,  and  her  ability  to  filter  her  thoughts  had  completely  abandoned  her.  it  only  took  one  coworker  teasing  her  about  never  dating  for  the  conversation  to  spiral  completely  out  of  control.  suddenly  she  was  confessing  things  she  had  never  admitted  aloud  before.  how  kind  he  was.  how  thoughtful  he  was.  how  he  remembered  the  smallest  details  about  people.  how  every  meal  somehow  tasted  better  when  he  made  it.  how  she  looked  forward  to  seeing  his  name  appear  on  her  phone  more  than  she  probably  should.  every  sentence  was  met  with  increasingly  dramatic  reactions  from  her  equally  intoxicated  coworkers  until  the  entire  table  had  collectively  decided  that  she  was  hopelessly,  embarrassingly  in  love.

their  solution  was  immediate  and,  under  absolutely  no  circumstances,  a  good  idea.

somehow,  despite  every  rational  thought  trying  to  fight  through  the  haze  in  her  mind,  clover  found  herself  being  shepherded  through  the  late  night  streets  by  a  small  flock  of  drunken  lawyers  who  had  unanimously  appointed  themselves  her  personal  relationship  consultants.  their  loud  encouragement  echoed  down  the  sidewalk  as  they  stumbled  forward  together,  arms  linked  and  balance  questionable.  somewhere  along  the  journey,  clover  had  spotted  a  cluster  of  red  tulips  growing  near  a  public  flower  bed  and  had  become  absolutely  convinced  that  they  were  a  sign  from  the  universe.  after  a  brief  and  entirely  unsuccessful  debate  with  a  streetlamp  she  had  mistaken  for  a  person,  she  proudly  gathered  a  small  handful  of  them  and  carried  them  carefully  against  her  chest  for  the  remainder  of  the  walk.  by  the  time  they  reached  the  familiar  house,  her  heart  was  racing  for  reasons  that  had  very  little  to  do  with  alcohol.

❝  okay,  okay,  everyone  be  quiet!!  ❞  clover  whispered  loudly,  which  was  not  a  whisper  at  all.  she  smoothed  down  her  slightly  disheveled  coat,  adjusted  her  grip  on  the  tulips,  and  stared  up  at  the  front  door  as  though  preparing  for  battle.  behind  her,  several  coworkers  immediately  scattered  into  the  front  yard,  crouching  behind  bushes  and  decorative  shrubs  with  all  the  subtlety  of  a  marching  band.  one  nearly  fell  over.  another  gave  her  a  dramatic  thumbs  up  from  behind  a  hedge.  clover  nodded  seriously  in  return  as  if  receiving  instructions  from  a  military  commander.  then,  taking  one  final  breath  and  completely  unaware  of  how  bright  her  smile  had  become,  she  marched  up  to  the  front  porch,  raised  her  hand,  and  excitedly  knocked  on  reyan's  front  door  with  the  tulips  clutched  tightly  in  her  other  hand.

[moonwrvttcn]

It was an evening bake day. Baking had been one of those few aspects of the kitchen he still did not feel quite as confident in, though he tried here and there to build those skills up. Baking was a bit more technical than he liked as someone who liked to just throw things together. The precision in quantities was important or else everything would go wrong. But it had its perks and a nice fudgey brownie to start off the evening was never a bad one in his book. The recipe he was referencing was from a friend from culinary school who had gone on to be a pastry chef.

The brownies had been a mix of their own grandmother's recipe and something he needed to pass for class. As well as being a college kid and liking a certain type of brownie.

Reyan had been in the middle of sifting some flour when the sound of knocking had pulled him from his focus. White dust flew everywhere- though most landed on his apron thankfully.

"Ah-? Coming!" He called out, looking for a towel to wipe himself down quickly as he made his way over to the door. Was he expecting guests? He couldn't remember inviting anyone over.

Dusty apron and all he opened the door expecting- not Clover?

"Clover?" Reyan blinked, slightly startled at seeing her. It wasn't unpleasant to see her, just unexpected. He opened his mouth to say more when he noticed the tightly clutched flowers and blinked yet again. "Those are... daisies?"

[dystincts]

lance  didn’t  even  flinch  when  the  satchel  hit  the  chair.  it  barely  earned  more  than  a  lazy  glance  up  from  his  container  of  noodles,  fork  paused  mid  air  like  he’d  been  expecting  the  impact.  honestly,  josh  collapsing  into  the  seat  across  from  him  like  the  weight  of  the  world  had  finally  won  was  becoming  routine.  predictable,  even.  comforting,  in  a  way.  he  watched  him  fold  in  on  himself,  fingers  buried  in  his  hair  with  that  stupid  little  clip  still  hanging  on  for  dear  life,  and  fought  the  instinct  to  smile.

he  hummed  thoughtfully,  eyes  tracking  josh  over  the  rim  of  his  glasses  as  the  groan  filtered  out  between  his  palms.  ❝  you  know.  .  .  ❞  lance  said  mildly,  ❝  if  being  dramatic  burned  calories,  you’d  be  a  runway  model  by  now.  ❞  when  josh  slammed  his  hands  on  the  table  and  glared  at  him,  lance  finally  took  a  bite,  unbothered,  chewing  slowly.  ❝  you’re  not  ugly.  ❞  he  added  easily,  like  it  wasn’t  even  worth  debating.  ❝  and  you  definitely  don’t  smell.  ❞  his  gaze  flicked  briefly  to  the  fistful  of  shirt  before  drifting  back  up.  ❝  if  anything,  you  smell  like  someone  who  owns  too  many  sketch  pencils  and  not  enough  self  esteem.  ❞

he  swallowed,  set  the  fork  down,  and  leaned  back  in  his  chair.  one  arm  draped  over  the  back,  posture  loose  in  that  infuriatingly  composed  way  that  made  people  linger  a  little  too  long  around  him.  ❝  third  blind  date,  hm?  ❞  lance  repeated,  brows  lifting  as  if  surprised.  ❝  wow.  that’s—  rough.  ❞  his  eyes  slid  over  josh  deliberately  now,  slow  and  assessing.  ❝  are  you  sure  they  didn’t  just  get  intimidated?  quiet.  artsy.  big  sad  eyes.  some  people  don’t  know  what  to  do  with  that.  ❞

lance  leaned  forward  again,  lowering  his  voice  like  he  was  letting  josh  in  on  a  secret.  ❝  honestly?  sounds  like  you  dodged  a  bullet.  anyone  who’d  ghost  you  after  two  weeks  of  planning  isn’t  worth  your  time.  ❞  his  gaze  softened  then,  lingering  on  the  crease  between  josh’s  brows.  ❝  besides,  you’re  running  out  of  bad  dates,  right?  statistically  speaking.  ❞  a  faint  smirk  tugged  at  his  lips.  ❝  eventually,  you’ll  end  up  exactly  where  you’re  supposed  to.  ❞

[moonwrvttcn]

“I have plenty of self esteem,” he retorted, the beginnings of a pout on his lips. Leaning against hand on the table, he idly stared at the food in front of him. He wasn’t particularly hungry, but the last instance of when he actually sat down to have a meal was escaping him. The young man let out a quiet sigh as he responded to the other’s inquiries, “i don’t own enough pencils thank you very much.” 

“I can’t see why they would get intimidated. Our mutual friends were the ones who tried to set us up, we talked back and forth a bit and things seemed okay.” thinking back on their interactions, nothing particularly stood out to him. They had texted each other here and there to get a vibe of one another before settling on trying out a single date to see if it would go anywhere. They had even called each other for a few hours to get an idea of preferences. Nothing so over the top, but it was not as if josh wanted to be tossed into some rave as a first date- so out of his element. 

His fingers tapped the table lightly, his nails painted a light sky blue this month. He had the nasty habit of biting his nails growing up, so he had resorted to painting them to deter it. It had been years since then, so it was hardly a worry of picking it up again, but one could never be too careful. Josh turned his attention to lance. The other looking as if he were the very definition of “i’m too cool to have problems like that.” a stark difference from how josh presented himself.

Whereas lance was all confidence and charm with movement that screamed of ease and certainty. He hardly ever appeared thrown off or having a terrible hair day. Josh walked around with tense shoulders, often trying to make himself smaller to the wandering eye. Though his movements were coordinated, they were often jilted- laced with niblets of generalized anxiety and shyness that he had carried throughout his life. Lance could smile and the sun would shine brighter, josh often hid his smiles behind oversized sleeves. 

Even today with his half finished noodles, lance looked like something out of a vogue magazine.

part of him was infuriated at the decorum, the other was soothed knowing that while that was the image of lance many had witnessed. His own cherished memories involved the other sobbing over sad puppy movies. Fair, but you know. Equality somehow, someway he supposed.

“If i get through enough bad dates, i have to eventually find the good ones-” he mumbled, thinking over the other’s words. “Actually you know what, you have a point! I just have to sort out all the bad eggs from the good ones. This isn’t a curse, but a blessing!” the smile that burst from his face could put the sun to shame. It lightened whatever gloominess the other had, and added a bit of pep into his spirit that wasn’t there before. “I just have to go on enough bad dates to find a really good one.”

[dystincts]

                                    dowon  couldn’t  help  but  laugh  again,  softer  this  time,  the  kind  of  laugh  that  carried  warmth  rather  than  amusement.  ❝  only  forty?  ❞  he  echoed,  his  smile  tugging  wider  as  he  rested  his  chin  in  his  palm,  elbow  propped  lazily  on  the  table.  ❝  you  really  don’t  hold  back,  do  you?  at  this  rate,  granny  and  i  might  end  up  fighting  for  your  approval  instead  of  each  other’s  company.  ❞  his  tone  was  light,  but  there  was  something  tender  hidden  beneath  it.  he  liked  seeing  her  like  this.  unguarded.  teasing.  alive  in  a  way  he  hadn’t  seen  before.

her  attempt  at  humor  wasn’t  perfect.  her  timing  was  a  bit  stilted,  her  delivery  a  little  too  straightforward…  but  that  was  exactly  what  made  it  endearing.  she  wasn’t  performing,  she  wasn’t  trying  to  charm  him;  she  was  simply  being  herself,  and  that  was  something  dowon  didn’t  take  lightly.  he  watched  her  in  the  dim  light  of  the  shop,  flour  dust  clinging  to  her  apron  and  strands  of  hair  falling  loose  near  her  face,  and  he  thought  she  looked  more  human  than  she  ever  had  before.  ❝  i  guess  that  makes  me  the  lucky  one  then.  ❞  he  said,  voice  gentler  now.  ❝  getting  to  see  this  side  of  you.  i  didn’t  think  i’d  ever  get  more  than  your  suspicious  stares  and  dry  one  liners.  ❞

he  leaned  back  in  his  seat,  fingers  idly  tracing  the  rim  of  the  cookie  plate  she’d  left  him,  a  soft  hum  escaping  his  throat.  ❝  i’ll  make  sure  to  bring  a  bigger  allowance  next  time,  just  so  i  can  make  up  for  all  those  missed  birthdays.  maybe  even  throw  in  a  bonus  if  you  keep  smiling  like  that.  ❞  he  added,  glancing  at  her  from  beneath  his  lashes.  the  joke  was  there,  playful  and  easy,  but  it  was  shadowed  by  something  genuine.  an  undercurrent  of  admiration  that  he  didn’t  bother  to  hide.

for  a  brief  moment,  he  fell  quiet,  his  usual  teasing  replaced  by  something  more  contemplative.  ❝  your  grandmother’s  a  remarkable  woman.  ❞  he  said  finally.  ❝  i  can  see  where  you  get  it  from.  you’ve  both  got  that  same  strength  about  you—  different  kinds,  but  the  same  heart.  ❞  his  gaze  lingered  on  her  a  little  longer  before  he  pushed  himself  up  from  the  chair,  hands  sliding  into  his  pockets.  ❝  i’m  glad  you’re  getting  used  to  seeing  me  around,  carmine.  because,  for  what  it’s  worth…  i  think  i’m  getting  used  to  being  here  too.  ❞

[moonwrvttcn]

“Granny said you were good practice for learning how to do quips. Can’t be her granddaughter without learning how to have the last word in.” Carmine added after a moment's hesitation. She did not need to explain herself to him, but… she was trying to be honest. And if honesty let her have the last word as her grandmother wanted, then she was fine with that. On a more selfish note, she just did not want dowon to have any more wins against her. 

Not that anyone else was really keeping track. Her granny likely didn’t care, and dowon seemed to be fine with whatever losses she handed him. But Carmine was, and that mattered to her. 

It may have been a one-sided competition, but it was a competition where for once the stakes didn’t feel so dire. 

Her eyes drifted away from him, her lips pursed in thought as she rotated his statement in her head. Dowon still felt… uncertain in many ways. A lot of uncertainty and unfamiliarity, but with each passing encounter he started to become something- someone- more and more recognizable. Before anything else, he was starting to become something consistent in her life. And consistency had always been a luxury more than a certainty. Lithe, thin fingers fiddled with the knot at her apron before she turned to face him fully. 

Carmine Shroud was no coward. Much less in the face of someone like Dowon. 

“I… don’t know yet if I can call you a friend right now.” She spoke clearly, her tone even, “But…. it would be nice if one day I could. I suppose.”

[sweatermuppet]

9.26.2020 — silas denver melvin

[dystincts]

                                    atlas  didn’t  answer  right  away.  her  words  landed  in  the  quiet  places  between  them,  the  kind  of  truth  that  didn’t  demand  an  argument  but  instead  sat  heavy  in  the  chest.  he  watched  her  as  they  walked.  the  way  her  shoulders  softened  as  she  spoke,  the  way  her  voice,  though  gentle,  carried  conviction.  ellana  had  that  effect  on  him.  she  could  say  the  simplest  things  and  somehow  make  him  feel  seen,  even  when  he  wasn’t  sure  he  deserved  it.

he  exhaled  slowly,  a  soft  cloud  of  breath  escaping  into  the  cool  air.  ❝  i  know…  ❞  he  murmured,  his  tone  quieter  than  before,  rough  around  the  edges.  ❝  it’s  not  about  thinking  you  can’t  handle  it.  i  just—  ❞  he  paused,  his  brows  knitting  as  he  searched  for  the  right  words.  ❝  i  spend  all  day  trying  to  keep  control.  on  the  court,  it’s  all  about  discipline.  one  mistake  and  you  lose  the  game.  one  wrong  move  and  the  coach  is  on  you.  and  when  i  come  home  to  you,  i  don’t  want  to  bring  that  same  chaos  here.  i  don’t  want  to...  turn  this  into  another  place  where  i  have  to  fix  things.  ❞

he  glanced  down  at  her  hand  still  tucked  into  his  pocket,  his  thumb  brushing  softly  against  her  fingers,  grounding  himself.  ❝  but  maybe  you’re  right.  ❞  he  added  after  a  beat,  the  hint  of  a  small  smile  ghosting  over  his  lips.  ❝  maybe  i’ve  been  trying  too  hard  to  make  everything  perfect.  painting  walls,  buying  knives,  booking  massages.  i  just  wanted  to  give  you  something  easy,  something  good.  i  didn’t  want  you  to  ever  feel  like  being  with  me  came  with  too  much  weight.  ❞  there  was  an  edge  of  vulnerability  in  his  voice  now,  something  raw  that  he  didn’t  often  show.  ❝  you’re  right  though.  that’s  not  what  we  promised.  and  i  guess...  maybe  i  forget  sometimes  that  you  meant  that  vow  as  much  as  i  did.  ❞

as  they  reached  the  corner,  the  golden  lights  of  the  restaurant  spilling  faintly  onto  the  pavement,  atlas  slowed  his  steps,  letting  his  shoulder  brush  against  hers.  ❝  i’ll  talk  to  them.  ❞  he  said  softly,  sincerity  threading  through  every  word.  ❝  to  coach,  to  the  team.  i  know  they’re  feeling  it  too.  it’s  been  harder  this  season  than  most.  but  i’ll  do  it.  not  just  for  me,  but  for  us.  you’re  right,  i  can’t  keep  everything  bottled  up  and  pretend  it’s  fine.  ❞

he  turned  to  face  her  then,  the  lamplight  catching  the  warmth  in  his  eyes.  ❝  thank  you,  my  love.  ❞  he  said  simply,  his  voice  quiet  but  steady.  ❝  for  reminding  me  that  this  isn’t  just  mine  to  carry.  that  i  don’t  have  to  protect  you  from  the  parts  of  me  that  aren’t  calm  or  collected.  i  know  i  don’t  always  say  it  right,  but  you’re  what  keeps  me  grounded.  even  when  i  don’t  deserve  it.  ❞  his  hand  tightened  gently  around  hers,  his  thumb  tracing  slow  circles  over  her  skin  as  if  memorizing  the  shape  of  her  reassurance.  ❝  i’ll  try  to  let  you  in  more.  i  promise.  ❞

[moonwrvttcn]

her thumb brushed over the back of his hand as they took forward steps together. he was the faster one of the two. always moving forward, always looking to the finish line and what to anticipate next. there was a certain impulsiveness in atlas that always caught ellana off guard- the kind of impatience that wouldn't wait for life, because what if they missed something too soon. she'd always taken her time with things- all she had was time. her steps while not cautious, carried a certain level of certainty. whatever would happen would find them, there wasn't any need to rush.

to her, maybe this situation was her seeing the finish line and atlas already looking for the next race.

"do you remember the first time i yelled at you? properly yelled at you?" she asked softly.

ellana was never one to raise her voice, even in her excitement she tended to make herself more quiet. a silent type of happiness that was felt more than heard. it took a while to get her worked up, much less to the point of actually yelling. but atlas, ever the exception, had managed it.

"you got injured during one of your seasons and you chose not to tell anyone for weeks and we found out about it after you had collapsed during one of your final games," she recalled. thankfully the injury had not ruined his chances at being scouted, though he was benched afterwards to allow him time to heal. but she recalled marching up to him right on the court and screaming at him through her concern and frustration. atlas never liked others, herself included, seeing the sides of himself that he couldn't handle.

the memory forced a smile out of her, "people thought i was your psycho girlfriend for a while because i was angry and 'who would yell at their injured boyfriend right in public.' but my gosh, you made me so mad that evening, because you spent weeks telling me you were okay. you never let me share some of the weight you carry. i admire your want to be reliable to others, but sometimes i wish you'd afford yourself the same kindness."

the young woman gave him a side eye, squeezing his hand, "please let me in sometimes, atlas."

[moonwrvttcn]

"table for one" ; - @dystincts

the satchel landed onto the chair with a resounding thud. josh paid it no mind as he practically threw himself in it. gathering his head up into his hands, he spent a moment or two just groaning defeat into his palms. it wasn't the oddest thing for anyone to see. as of late, it has become more and more of a happenstance.

slamming his palms down onto the table, the young man gave the stink eye to the other seated across from him. was the other in the middle of their lunch? yes. did josh care? not really. besides, they still had another 45 minutes to their break, they could spend five just listening to him complain if they really cared.

"i have to be ugly, i just have to be." he spoke, confusion lacing his town. "that or i'm smelly?" grabbing a fistful of his shirt, he took a whiff and shook his head. he just did laundry yesterday and switched out the detergent it could not have been that. was it the scent of graphite that seemed to stick with him? he was an artist, it couldn't be helped.

"tell me why my third blind date this month is a no show! we spent the last two weeks sorting out the details, and suddenly they're a no show last night." josh did not consider himself the worst partner by miles, but something had to be wrong if his dating history was something to go off of.

[dystincts]

                                    clover  blinked  at  his  laughter,  a  flicker  of  surprise  crossing  her  features  before  it  softened  into  something  fonder,  almost  nostalgic.  ❝  it’s  hard  to  imagine  you  being  moody~  ❞  she  teased  lightly,  resting  her  elbow  against  the  table  and  propping  her  chin  on  her  palm.  the  faint  steam  from  her  curry  curled  up  between  them,  carrying  the  warmth  of  turmeric  and  chili.  ❝  you  seem  too  calm  for  that  now.  though…  i  guess  people  don’t  really  grow  out  of  things  like  that  unless  they’re  forced  to.  ❞  her  eyes  flickered  to  his  hands  as  he  spoke.  steady,  deliberate  hands,  ones  that  had  clearly  learned  how  to  build  and  create,  not  destroy.  the  way  he  spoke  about  his  past  was  easy,  unguarded  in  a  way  that  made  her  chest  ache  a  little.  there  was  something  grounding  about  it.  like  he  had  learned  the  art  of  moving  forward  even  when  the  world  hadn’t  made  it  easy  for  him.

she  let  out  a  quiet  laugh  at  his  recounting  of  her  father,  shaking  her  head  slowly.  ❝  no,  he  conveniently  left  that  story  out.  ❞  she  said,  though  her  lips  curved  despite  herself.  the  thought  of  casimir  standing  in  the  kitchen,  looking  proud  and  baffled  in  equal  measure  as  rice  burned  in  the  microwave,  brought  an  unexpected  sting  to  her  eyes.  ❝  that  sounds  exactly  like  him,  though.  he  used  to  think  he  could  fix  anything  if  he  just  tried  hard  enough.  ❞  her  fork  paused  over  her  food  as  her  voice  softened.  ❝  he  used  to  say  that  about  me,  too.  that  if  i  just  kept  going,  i  could  make  anything  right  again.  ❞  she  blinked  a  few  times,  trying  to  force  the  emotion  down  before  it  showed,  focusing  instead  on  her  plate.  ❝  i’m…  glad  you’re  here,  reyan.  really.  you’ve  been  good  for  both  of  us.  ❞

when  he  asked  about  her  work,  she  straightened  a  little,  grateful  for  the  shift  in  topic.  ❝  oh—  yeah,  no,  that’s  fine!  i  just  can’t  share  any  names  or,  you  know,  details  that  would  violate  confidentiality.  but…  there  was  one  case  that  stuck  with  me.  ❞  she  toyed  absently  with  her  spoon,  the  soft  scrape  of  metal  against  porcelain  filling  the  quiet.  ❝  it  was  a  custody  case,  actually.  the  mother  was  working  two  jobs,  barely  scraping  by,  and  the  father’s  family  had  money.  enough  to  make  everyone  believe  he’d  be  the  better  parent  just  by  existing  in  a  bigger  house.  it  wasn’t  easy  convincing  the  judge  otherwise,  but  we  did.  she  won!  ❞  a  faint  smile  tugged  at  her  lips,  proud  but  tempered.  ❝  i  think  that  was  the  first  time  i  felt  like  i  was  doing  something  that  actually  mattered.  ❞

she  looked  up  then,  meeting  his  gaze  fully  for  the  first  time  since  he’d  started  talking  about  her  dad.  there  was  something  steady  about  the  way  he  listened,  the  way  he  made  space  for  silence  to  sit  without  it  feeling  heavy.  ❝  honestly,  it’s  exhausting  most  of  the  time.  ❞  she  admitted,  voice  quieter  now,  ❝  but  moments  like  that…  they  make  all  the  late  nights  worth  it.  ❞  she  gave  a  small  shrug,  then  added  with  a  faint  smile,  ❝  kind  of  like  how  i  imagine  cooking  feels  for  you.  long  hours,  a  lot  of  mess,  but  worth  it  when  it’s  done  right.  ❞  she  speared  another  bite  of  curry,  savoring  the  warmth  before  nodding  slightly.  ❝  and  for  the  record,  this  one’s  definitely  done  right.  ❞

[moonwrvttcn]

"i was..." reyan trailed off for a moment, thinking about himself in his youth. all the confidence with no life experience to back it up. the arrogance of youth that thought they knew it all. it all caught up to him quicker than he thought, but if he tried to think on it deeper- it was harder to imagine learning the lessons he did at a later age. "i got into trouble a lot. barely got into college and made it through my first year somehow. i didn't party, but i did get into fights a lot. you should've seen how stressed my mom was. she was constantly on me to fix my attitude and everything."

he often attributed to her greying as early as she did, because of how much he really valued his freedom. "i was something to be as brave as i was infront of her," he told clover with a genuine laugh on his lips. his mom scared him more nowadays, but that was a good thing she would say. his life experiences weren't unique by any standards, but still those were his and there was something worth it there. reyan never considered himself very wise, though he tried to be, but if someone found anything learned in his stories he would consider it a win.

casimir had always been more of the idealist between the two. it was something he greatly envied and respected in the other. reyan wasn't much of a risk taker nowadays, but the other took enough risks for both of them it probably evened out. "visionary is the word i'd use, though sometimes he reached for too high of stars in the kitchen." his chest warmed at the thought of being something meaningful to the two. it was silly and undeserving in some aspects, but it was nice to know he offered something to others. "well, thanks for putting up with all my silliness so far. i'm great with my hands, and i've been known to say an awful dad joke or two."

"you remind me of a knight." reyan told her, genuinely. his tone was soft, and a bit in awe. though his gaze held nothing, but warmth for her. "in my head, lawyers are the ones who make the rules and here you are defending people who really need it. a real life super hero if you will. you know the laws well enough to use them to help others and you genuinely want to help. it's not about the money for you.... i like that."

[nixscriptum]

[dystincts]

                                    dowon  blinked  at  her  quip,  caught  off  guard  for  just  a  moment  before  a  laugh  broke  free  from  him.  low,  warm,  and  unrestrained.  he  hadn’t  expected  her  to  bite  back,  let  alone  with  something  so  bold,  but  the  way  she  delivered  it  with  that  mock-innocence  had  him  shaking  his  head.  ❝  grandfather?  ❞  he  repeated,  his  grin  widening  as  he  leaned  forward  slightly  in  his  seat.  ❝  that’s  cruel,  carmine.  i  was  prepared  for  a  lot  of  things,  but  not  you  shaving  twenty  years  off  my  life  in  one  sentence.  ❞  he  pressed  a  hand  to  his  chest  in  mock  offense,  though  the  amusement  glimmering  in  his  eyes  betrayed  just  how  much  he  enjoyed  her  attempt  at  humor.

resting  his  elbow  on  the  table,  he  tilted  his  head,  gaze  fixed  on  her  with  a  teasing  sharpness.  ❝  though,  if  you  want  an  allowance,  i  suppose  i  could  spare  some  pocket  change  for  my  favorite  granddaughter.  ❞  the  words  came  with  a  playful  lilt,  the  kind  that  invited  her  to  roll  her  eyes  or  swat  at  him,  but  underneath  it  was  a  quiet  satisfaction.  he  liked  seeing  her  push  back,  even  in  jest.  it  made  her  feel  less  distant,  less  unreachable,  and  that  was  something  he  hadn’t  realized  he’d  been  craving  until  now.

her  genuine  smile,  though…  it  threw  him  off  balance.  it  wasn’t  one  of  her  guarded  expressions,  nor  one  of  the  tight,  polite  gestures  she  wore  when  forced  into  pleasantries.  it  was  real,  uncalculated,  and  for  the  first  time  he  felt  like  he’d  peeled  back  a  layer  she  usually  kept  hidden.  his  teasing  softened  into  something  gentler,  his  voice  lowering  almost  unconsciously.  ❝  see?  i  knew  you  had  that  in  you.  and  i’ll  take  that  as  proof  i’m  doing  something  right  by  sticking  around.  ❞  he  didn’t  look  away,  not  immediately  at  least,  letting  her  see  that  he  meant  it.

eventually,  he  leaned  back  in  his  chair  again,  lips  tugging  into  a  crooked  smile.  ❝  don’t  worry,  i’m  smart  enough  to  know  it’s  better  to  be  on  your  good  side  than  the  bad.  i’ve  got  no  interest  in  making  an  enemy  out  of  you,  carmine.  especially  not  when  you’re  finally  admitting  how  much  you’d  miss  me  if  i  wasn’t  around.  ❞  the  last  line  was  pure  provocation,  threaded  with  humor,  but  his  eyes  carried  a  weight  that  undercut  the  joke.  a  steady  kind  of  sincerity  that  hinted  he  wasn’t  just  here  for  the  cookies,  the  air  conditioning,  or  even  granny.  he  was  here  for  her.

[moonwrvttcn]

"only twenty?" carmine rose an eyebrow, her lips still quirked in that rare genuine smile, "i should've tried harder. i wanted to get rid of 40. atleast give granny a fighting chance." it wasn't like her to be playful. she found it more... confusing to be purposefully playful. some customers found her dry humor endearing, but she wasn't trying to be funny in those moments. though, if the shoe landed then she couldn't complain. truthfully, she wasn't sure if this conversation with dowon would be considered playful- but it was the more lighthearted conversation the two could have together.

carmine wasn't entirely sure how to feel getting more familiar with dowon. he was the most familiar stranger she had ever met, and now he was starting to become a face she genuinely knew. now he was learning aspects to her from both past and present, and that was something that weighed heavy on her. the uncertainty left her agitated, but the familiarity did the same.

in this game between the two of them he was winning.

"well, i suppose i'll accept the allowance for all the birthdays you've missed."

humming underneath her breath, she decided to leave things be for now. this was the closest to camaraderie she had ever felt with him- admittedly, it was easier than being on edge all the time too. "you make my grandma happy," carmine admitted, "so you make me happy, i suppose... and you're less rude than other customers who keep coming back. i think i'm getting used to seeing you around."

[rpdepartment]

when does a ᴄᴏᴍᴇᴛ become a 𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚘𝚛 ? when does a ᴄᴀɴᴅʟᴇ become a 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚣𝚎 ? when does a ʀɪᴘᴘʟᴇ become a 𝚝𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚕 𝚠𝚊𝚟𝚎 ? when does the ʀᴇᴀsᴏɴ become the 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚎 ?

when does a ᴍᴀɴ become a 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 ?

[nixscriptum]

[nixscriptum]

[dystincts]

                                    atlas  tilted  his  head  slightly  at  her  words,  her  confusion  as  natural  as  breathing,  and  he  realized  he  wasn’t  used  to  being  on  the  receiving  end  of  such  simple  honesty.  most  people  in  his  world  asked  about  numbers,  stats,  wins,  and  losses…  if  they  asked  at  all.  ellana’s  question  carried  no  ulterior  motive,  no  expectation  of  performance,  just  the  quiet  insistence  that  she  wanted  to  be  present  with  him.  the  thought  sank  deep  into  him,  stirring  a  warmth  that  had  little  to  do  with  the  cool  night  air  brushing  along  their  cheeks.  her  hand  slipped  into  the  pocket  of  his  coat,  tentative  and  cautious,  like  she  was  testing  the  weight  of  closeness  itself.  atlas  felt  the  faint  brush  of  her  fingers  against  his  and,  without  thinking,  he  turned  his  hand  palm  down  so  that  his  thumb  could  sweep  slowly  across  her  knuckles  through  the  fabric.  it  was  a  small  movement,  but  intentional.  an  unspoken  reassurance  that  she  wasn’t  intruding,  that  he  wanted  her  there.  it  struck  him  then,  the  irony  of  her  hesitations:  she  thought  she  wasn’t  enough,  when  all  he  ever  found  himself  doing  was  looking  for  ways  to  keep  her  tethered  close.

❝  no  one  gave  me  a  hard  time.  ❞  he  finally  answered,  his  voice  low,  thoughtful,  careful  not  to  fracture  the  fragile  moment  between  them.  ❝  practice  was  just…  hard.  it  always  is.  endless  laps,  drills  until  your  chest  feels  like  it’s  going  to  collapse,  legs  burning  so  bad  you  don’t  know  if  you’ll  stand  the  next  morning.  coach  calls  it  tearing  us  down  so  we  can  come  back  sharper.  ❞  a  faint  laugh  caught  in  his  throat,  bitter  and  fond  all  at  once.  ❝  maybe  he’s  right.  i  did  sign  up  for  it,  after  all.  ❞  his  eyes  drifted  up  to  the  moon  above  them,  a  pale  sliver  against  the  dark,  and  for  a  moment  he  let  himself  wonder  if  she  was  right  about  dreams  meaning  something.  he  wasn’t  a  man  who  clung  to  superstition,  but  he  couldn’t  ignore  the  way  she  carried  herself.  torn  between  wanting  to  reach  for  him  and  holding  herself  back.  and  yet,  even  now,  she  leaned  against  him  like  he  was  her  anchor.

❝  it’s  not  that  i  don’t  want  to  tell  you,  my  love…  ❞  he  continued,  voice  gentler  now,  like  the  confession  was  carved  from  someplace  deeper.  ❝  it’s  just  that  sometimes  it  feels  like  i’m  nothing  but  basketball.  every  conversation  i  have  with  teammates,  with  coaches,  even  people  outside  of  it—  it’s  always  the  same.  i  don’t  want  to  bore  you  with  the  play  by  plays.  ❞  his  lips  quirked  into  a  softer  smile,  his  gaze  sliding  down  to  catch  hers  even  as  she  avoided  it.  ❝  but  you  asking?  you  wanting  to  know?  that’s  different.  it’s  not  about  the  game  with  you,  it’s  about…  me.  ❞  atlas  slowed  his  pace  deliberately,  letting  their  steps  echo  against  the  empty  street,  savoring  the  strange  privacy  of  it  all.  he  angled  his  body  closer  to  hers,  his  hand  still  brushing  hers  in  the  pocket  of  his  coat,  keeping  her  tethered.  ❝  you  don’t  have  to  fight  for  space  at  my  side,  ellana.  you  already  take  up  more  of  me  than  the  game  ever  could.  ❞  his  words  hung  in  the  quiet  night,  heavy  with  sincerity,  and  he  hoped  she  would  hear  them  for  what  they  were:  not  just  reassurance,  but  truth.

[moonwrvttcn]

Ellana kept silent, listening to his words. Listening to him vent for once. She had noticed this small tendency of his as of late- a new development in their relationship? Marriage? A small little quirk where if something caused a bit of discomfort, he would remove it. When they moved into their house together, she had said off handedly that maybe painting the walls would brighten things up more. The next day she was presented with new color palettes to pick from. She had complained slightly that the knives in the kitchen were too dull? Instead of buying a knife sharpener, he got an entirely new set. A small ache in her shoulders resulted in a full blown body massage. It was as if any sort of misstep had to be removed, distanced away from the two of them or else it would break something. She wasn’t sure what or if her impressions were even correct, but that was the nagging feeling she got in the back of her head. 

It reminded her of her children at the schools. How playtime was a sacred thing and any mishap would ruin the entirety of some of the kids' day. She always found it funny how intensely those little beings became over the things they viewed with such sentimental value. Here and now, atlas was like a child and their marriage was play time. 

“You know,” she whispered, looking up at him with a quiet consideration, “i did say for better and for worse remember? When we took our vows, we swore to be there for each other no matter what. You’re allowed to take up whatever spaces you want, even if it is just to complain about practice. I don’t think anyone would think training for professionals would be easy, but if it is taxing on you, it’s taxing on you. I don’t want you trying to protect me from your bad days when that isn’t what i signed up for- what we promised each other, atlas.”

Ellana looked at him with no ill will, no anger or frustration. Just genuine consideration and patience- the same thing she has afforded him each and every time they started this relationship. Their wasn’t perfect, but it was perfect for him. They had their highs and lows like any couple- atlas always felt more intensely than she did. He was the one more likely to explode, while she weathered the storm. But his care had always been more expressive than hers too in that way. Whereas atlas made outright efforts to show you his care, she was more subtle that often went unnoticed by others. They had their balance. 

“I wouldn’t ask you to lean on me, if i wasn’t prepared to fall with you.” she reminded him kindly. Moving her gaze away from him, she continued their walk to the restaurant. “Maybe it’s worth talking to your coach about how practice is going? Or talking to your teammates to see if anyone else is feeling the same? And there’s always other teams- i know more than one team wanted to recruit you.”

[lyricalmusingstuff]

Oh, brother of mine. It's been a long, long time since I've seen my face in your eyes.

[dystincts]

                                    clover’s  fork  stilled  over  her  plate  as  she  listened,  watching  the  way  reyan  chose  his  words  carefully,  almost  tenderly,  even  when  speaking  of  people  who  clearly  didn’t  deserve  the  effort.  she  wondered  how  he  managed  it.  how  he  could  turn  irritation  into  patience,  and  cruelty  into  something  soft  enough  to  excuse.  ❝  that’s…  nicer  than  most  people  would  bother  to  be.  ❞  she  admitted  at  last,  her  voice  quieter  than  intended.  she  shifted  in  her  seat,  leaning  back  slightly,  as  though  distance  might  make  her  words  less  vulnerable.  ❝  i  think  if  i  tried  that,  i’d  just  get  more  frustrated.  but  you…  you  make  it  sound  like  forgiving  people  before  they’ve  even  apologized  is  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world.  ❞

his  mention  of  her  father  drew  a  huff  of  reluctant  laughter  from  her,  the  sound  breaking  the  heaviness  that  had  settled  over  them.  ❝  you  were  right  not  to  trust  him.  ❞  she  said,  shaking  her  head  as  memories  of  charred  edges  and  smoke  detectors  flashed  through  her  mind.  ❝  he  nearly  set  the  toaster  on  fire  once.  if  it  weren’t  for  you,  we’d  probably  be  living  off  takeout  and  scorched  bread.  ❞  she  reached  for  the  jar  of  chili  oil  he’d  slid  across  the  table,  adding  a  careful  drizzle  to  her  curry.  the  rich,  fragrant  scent  rose  instantly,  grounding  her  in  the  moment.  ❝  still…  i  think  he  appreciates  that  you  tried  to  teach  him.  even  if  he’d  never  admit  it  out  loud.  ❞  her  chest  tightened  at  the  thought  of  casimir  lying  in  that  hospital  bed,  and  she  found  herself  clinging  to  the  warmth  of  the  food  in  front  of  her  as  though  it  were  an  anchor.

she  tilted  her  head,  studying  reyan  as  he  layered  yogurt  sauce  over  his  own  plate,  speaking  about  possibilities  with  the  kind  of  caution  she  recognized  too  well.  his  words  were  careful,  but  the  weight  of  his  intent  wasn’t  lost  on  her.  ❝  you  don’t  have  to  defend  wanting  the  best.  ❞  she  said  gently,  resting  her  cheek  against  her  hand  as  she  leaned  into  the  table’s  edge.  ❝  you’re  allowed  to  think  ahead.  more  people  should.  half  the  people  i  see  at  work  are  too  distracted  or  selfish  to  even  try,  and  it  shows  in  their  behaviour.  you're  a  dedicated  and  hardworking  man,  and  that's  something  to  admire.  ❞  the  conviction  in  her  voice  surprised  even  her,  but  it  felt  necessary,  as  though  he  needed  to  hear  it  from  someone  other  than  himself.

her  gaze  lingered  on  him  a  moment  longer,  then  softened  with  a  teasing  glint  to  dispel  the  weight  of  her  honesty.  ❝  and  for  the  record,  it’s  a  lot  harder  than  just  pushing  paper  around.  ❞  she  added,  swirling  her  fork  through  her  rice  again.  ❝ deadlines,  clients,  court  dates,  endless  stress—  it’s  more  than  enough  to  drive  most  people  mad.  ❞  a  small  smirk  curved  her  lips,  light  but  pointed.  ❝  though  between  you  and  me,  i  think  the  paper  cuts  might  be  the  least  of  your  worries.  ❞

[moonwrvttcn]

his eyes crinkle as he smiles wider. "don't get me wrong it's definitely a learned skill. i did not have any of this patience when i was younger. you should've seen me, i was short tempered and moody. it's surreal in some ways how much i've matured." the thought of himself in his youth brings a laugh out of him. he was a reckless youth that nothing but reckless pride. the sudden announcement of his son had forcibly put him on the path of maturity- well, his son and his girlfriend at the time.

"i got into cooking because it was an easy job to get at the time, and just... eventually learned my way through the industry. dish washer, butcher, sous chef- you name it, i've probably done it. you meet a lot of people- terrible customers, terrible coworkers, terrible bosses." the redhead gave her a knowing look, "you eventually learn to pick which battles you want to attempt." he wondered if it was the same for lawyers. a lot of their jobs were based on arguments and winning. it wasn't necessarily about picking and choosing battles, but ensuring each battle you were in won. rubbing the bridge of his nose shyly, he moved onto other topics to pardon himself from looking any sillier than attempting to part some words of wisdom.

"your dad burned pre-cooked rice in the microwave once, i don't know if he ever told you that story." the image was burned into his brain as it always managed to bring a laugh out of him. even now, his lips quirked upward. "i think his argument was if he heats it up at a higher temperature for a shorter period it should even out.... well, you can probably imagine what happened."

it was easier to the soothe the ache in his chest when it was a happier memory to think back on. his friend was someone who was always smiling, trying to brighten up your day. reyan tried his best to carry that torch with him throughout this journey. especially in making sure clover remembered him with brightness, not the dour image of him resting in a bed trying to recover.

he kept his eyes on her plate, mindful of her reactions to the food. he was always... anticipating clover's reaction to his cooking. he wanted her to like it! he also found joy in learning what she liked and what she didn't like. something about making a meal that was so specifically catered to the person struck intimate with him.

"what's been your most exciting case?" reyan asked gently, before pausing, "is that something i can ask? can you share?"

[nixscriptum]