#That's one of my grandparents. They wanted their skeleton to be turned I to a planter.“

[noisyballofvoidmuffin]

Why can't I donate my body to art when I die. What if I want my skeleton to be turned into an awe inspiring sculpture or repurposed as an intricate flowerpot of sorts? Sth about how "from the earth we come and to the earth we return" or "Nature, you've offered me so much, raised me, fed me, provided me a home and safe heaven, now that I must leave, I offer you my body so you may prosper and be able to give the same gifts to others."

Like, why can't I have that. Why am I limited to

Buried

Cremated

Donated to science

Why can't my instructions be more gentle? Why can't I ask someone to at least unearth my bones and turn them into something beautiful?

[watsittoyah]

Along Came A Spider…2099

Warnings-Sexual content, time travel, oral sex, rough sex, fang play, size kink, breeding kink and slight blood play. Some talks of suicide..

(My Spanish isn’t great, so I did use google translate to help…)

Chapter 5- The Skeletons In His Closet..

“Everything needs to be perfect. Erica do you have the ice?”

“I’ve got the ice.” You check that off the list. “Jerry, do you have the paper plates?”

“I got paper plates, and I got napkin.” You check those off the list. “Monica-”

“I have the baked Mac and cheese and I have the hot links.” You check those off of the list and you look at your friends. “As you all know, this is the annual Valentine family reunion. I invited you all because my grandparents adore you. Now, we need to make a signal so if any family member catches us off guard the others can swoop in and save the day. Any suggestions?”

“Oh! We can fake a yawn.” Jerry suggests. But Monica shakes her head. “No can do, we did that last year and Great Aunt Ethel made Erica sit on the bench with her so she could rest it out.”

“Ear tug.” Erica says. “Yes! That’s perfect. Alright let’s get the stuff in the car.” As your friends heads out of the apartment you stay back and call Miguel for the tenth time. It goes to voicemail which doesn’t surprise you. He’s been late to a lot of functions lately.

“This is Miguel leave a message.” It beeps and you pace the apartment. “Baby, we’re leaving the apartment. I was hoping you’d be here so I can prep you but obviously you’re not answering. The cookout is at my grandparents. I’m sure you remember the address. Just please don’t be too late, a lot of my family wants to meet you, okay? Lo-later.” You hang up and tell Milo to be good…

When you park the car, you see balloons all tied up on the front porch. “Remember the plan, we stay for a few hours and if any of us need saving, tug an ear.” You all get out of the car and start to unload the stuff.

Erica pulls you to the side and whispers to you. “Where’s Miguel?” You huff and shrug. “I don’t know, but if he is late he is going to get an earful.” You say as you tie your headscarf tighter.

“Is that little Tommie?” You turn and put on a fake smile as you see your Auntie Vivian. “Hey Auntie.” You lean over and give her a hug. “Girl look at you! Looking like a little African queen. And these hips! Lord have mercy I know these boys go crazy over you.” You feel awkward and clear your throat. “Auntie, you remember my friends right?”

“Of course I do. Hey guys.”

“Hey.” They say in unison. “Auntie where can we put the ice and food?” You ask. “In the kitchen. Now don’t stay in there. If you do they’re gonna make you help with the fish fry. And it’s already hot with all these black folks.” You all laugh and start bringing the stuff inside.

“Hello.” You call out as you walk into the house. “Tommie! Is that you! Come here let me get a good look at you!” Your Auntie Bonnie calls out as she dries her upper lip with a napkin.

“We’ll put this up.” Jerry whispers to you as they walk past. “Baby go and put that ice in the cooler out back.”

You walk over to your Auntie Bonnie and she looks you over. “Girl you look like me back in the day. I swear I had about six boyfriends and three men trying to marry me when I was your age.” You laugh at that and she gives you a hug. “How you feeling?”

“I’m okay. Really.” You lie. “Mhm, if you want to lie, lie to your boss not to me. But I won’t push, now where is this man, Barbra was telling us about.”

“Miguel will be here soon. He’s just running a little late.”

“Tommie, come here and help me with this fish.” Your Auntie Meryl calls out. “Oh! Uncle Pete said he needs help with the grill I’ll be back.” You run outside and see Erica and Monica over by the drinks.

“Where’s Jerry?” You ask sitting down taking a bottle of water from the cooler. “Your cousins snatched him up so he’s playing double Dutch with them.” Monica points across the yard and sure enough Jerry was turning the ropes with one of your little cousins.

“TT!” You feel a pat to your thigh and you turn to see your baby cousin, Oliver. “Hi baby!” You pick him up and give him a great big hug. He holds your face and leans his head on your shoulder.

You sit there with him in your arms and hear his mother calling him. “Oh, I should’ve know you’d be with Tommie. He isn’t causing you any trouble is he?”

“Not at all, right Ollie?” He just sits there holding your face. “Ollie, do you want to show your big cousin your new toy?” Vanessa asks him. He nods and he jumps off of your lap and goes running. “Ollie no running you’ll hurt yourself. That boy is going to keep me young running after him. How y’all been?”

“Good.” You say wondering where Miguel was.

“I’ve been alright, but you know where the harder stuff at?” Monica asks. “Go to Uncle Pete, he got some mikes hard lemonade in his cooler.”

“Say less.” Monica leaves and Erica follows. “You want one?” You shake your head as they walk off. “How’s Ollie been adjusting?” You ask Vanessa. “He’s been doing great. He still doesn’t talk much but he likes his new school.”

“That’s good. Maybe I can see if there are any more grants you can apply to for him.” She nods and Ollie comes running back. “TT!”

“Look at that! It’s a dinosaur! Do you know what sound a dinosaur makes?”

“Roof!” You shake your head. “No that’s a dog. A dinosaur…roars. Like this, ROAR!” You tickle him and he laughs. “TT!” He tugs you along and you follow him. He points to the hula hoop and you pick it up. You show him how to hula hoop but he doesn’t get it. Which was fine because you just wanted him to have fun.

After playing with Oliver for fifteen minutes he was passed out in your arms. You bring him to his mother and she takes him inside to sleep on the bed with the other babies and toddlers.

You decide to make yourself a plate and you get in line. “Tommie, when are you gonna get married?” Your little loud mouth cousin, Tiffany asks. “When you stop minding my business and mind your own.”

“Oop, not too much.” You roll your eyes but laugh together as you make your plate. You get a few things on your plate and you’re about to reach for some chicken when you feel a pair of arms wrap around your waist.

“Hola, mi amor.” You smile from ear to ear as you turn to Miguel. “Hello to you to-what happened to your eye?” Your boyfriend had a big black eye and you were concerned. “Nothing, it’s just a small bump on my face.”

“Small bump? Miguel it’s looks like some one put their whole fist in your face!” You snap at him. “Geez! What happens to you?” Tiffany asks. You ignore her and grab Miguel’s hand, dragging him into the house.

“It’s nothing really.” He tries to tell you. “Nothing my ass. Sit here and let me get you an ice pack.” You go into the fridge and take out one, then you grab a dish cloth. You wrap the ice pack and you place it on Miguel’s eye. He winces in pain and you cross your arms over your chest.

“I know you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset, concerned yes. I’m curious as well. How is it that my boyfriend came here with a black eye? What happened?”

“Would you believe me if I said it was a door?” He says with a smirk. “Now is not the time to joke, Mr O’Hara!” You glance over and see your Aunties were pretending not to listen. “Come with me.” You drag him to the side porch and close the door behind the two of you.

“Miguel, how?” He sighs and moves the ice pack. “I got into a little fight, it’s no big deal. Honestly the other guy looks worse.” You sigh because there isn’t anything you can do. He is here and that is what you had wanted. “Is that why you’re late?”

“Y..yes. Amor, I am sorry. Let’s go back out there and you can introduce me to your family.” The hesitation in his answer doesn’t go unnoticed but you let it slide for now.

“Right, well I hope you’re hungry because there is a lot of food and there’s a lot of people who want to meet you.” You cup his face in your hands and you kiss his bruised eye. “I promise you Miguel you better had beat them to a bloody pulp for giving you this black eye.”

“You know I did.” He says with a smirk. You lead him back to where your family is and you make him a plate.

••••

After watching Miguel interact with your family for a few hours you felt relaxed. “Baby cakes, come help me with this pan.” You head into the kitchen with your grandmother and she lifts up a pan for you to bring outside.

“No one is gonna take him from you, you don’t have to stare too hard.” Your grandmother teases. “It’s just, he seems so relaxed like he’s met them before.”

“Isn’t that a good thing? Miguel just fits in with the rest of them. And don’t think I haven’t seen the way that man watches you. He stares at you as if you’re his entire universe.” You look back at Miguel and see him playing with Oliver.

“I say by the end of this year you two will be married and expecting.”

“Grandma!”

“Girl don’t grandma me. There is no way that man is going to settle with being your boyfriend. A man like that ought to be a husband.” You sigh and continue to watch Miguel play with Oliver.

As you watch him you get an odd thought. In the thought you see Miguel getting down on one knee and he’s proposing to you. You look down at your hand and you swear you see a ring. When you blink the ring was gone.

You feel dizzy and you almost trip. But you put the pan down and you catch yourself. “You okay baby cakes?” You nod. “I’m okay, I just need some water.” She gets you some water and you look back outside to see Miguel staring back at you.

What the hell was that?

•••

You were sitting on the back porch with Erica and Jerry watching the older folks dance to old school jams. Monica was playing spades with your aunties and Miguel was playing with the kids. “I think this cookout was perfect.” You announced. “Got that right, my stomach is full all I need is a man to cuddle with.”

“Jerry then why fuck are you looking at me?” Erica says narrowing her eyes at him. “Because with those broad shoulders you look like a man.”

“Oh bitch those are fighting words.” They get up ready to play fight but your grandmother gives them the look. “Behave yourselves.” She calls to them. “Yes Mrs. Valentine.” They say in unison as they walk over to grab some more drinks.

You sit back and look up at the stars, feeling happy. “Is that seat taken?” You look over to see Miguel and you smile at him. “Come.” You motion him over and he sits between your legs. “Did you have fun today, mi Corazón?”

“I did actually. And my family loves you. Especially Ollie. He doesn’t take to strangers well but he warmed up to you just fine.”

“I’m glad they like me. Hopefully next year….” He stops talking and you wait for him to continue but he stands up. “Come dance with me.” You take his hand and Stand by me by Prince Royce plays.

“You trust me?” He asks as he sees you’re nervous. “Yes.” You answer him without hesitation. Miguel then places his hand on your lower back and he tells you to follow his lead but don’t watch his feet.

You two move together and you still feel nervous. “Close your eyes and think of a happy place, amor.” He whispers in your ear. You shut your eyes and think for a moment.

When you have the happy place, you move to the beat of the song and Miguel guides your hips. You open your eyes and he was smiling at you as he sang the song to you. You smile so wide, it’s shocking that your face didn’t split in half.

Miguel spins you around and then dips you. As he pulls you back to him, you can’t help but feel your family watching the two of you. You do a move you didn’t know you could do, but it feels like a reflex.

Miguel lets you go and you dance by yourself, moving your long skirt to the beat of the music. You look at him and move your hips as you go to him. To you Miguel was the only thing that mattered to you in this very moment. When you finally go to him the song ends.

“I love you.” You say without hesitation. You then realized what you said and you start to take it back. “Yo tambien te quiero mi amor.” Miguel says with love in his eyes. You hear your family in the background cheering you two on but that doesn’t matter. You get on your tippy toes and you kiss him. He holds you and kisses you back as your family hoots and hollers at the two of you.

Yes this night was perfect…

After you had dropped Jerry and Monica off at their place, you and Erica were walking back into your apartment, with Miguel following behind you.

“How about I spend the night at your place for a change? It’ll give Erica a break from hearing us.” You say as you lean against the door frame. “I’d like that actually. But before you come over let me just go clear up some stuff.” Miguel kisses your lips several times, which makes you laugh. “Baby, go.” You push him back and he takes a small step back. “I love you, Tommie.”

“I love you too, Miguel.” He walks into his apartment and you walk into yours. You sigh like a love sick school girl and bring your leftover plate to the kitchen. When you enter you see Erica standing there reading something.

“What’s that?” You ask putting your plate in the fridge. She turns to you and pretends she wasn’t reading something. “Huh? Oh nothing.” You give her a look. “E, what is that?” You ask again. She sighs and hands you the paper. You read it and it’s about Miguel.

However there is barely anything on the paper. No mentions of his family. No mentions of his birth place. It mentions an ex or two but they had little to no information on Miguel.

“This is a good thing right? He has a clean record.” You try to be optimistic but Erica gives you a sad look. “T, my cousin is the best on getting dirt on anyone. But from what I read, Miguel is a total stranger. Just who have you been dating for the few months?”

You feel a knot of anxiety at the pit of your stomach as you wonder for yourself. “I’ll be right back.” You march out of your apartment and you knock on Miguel’s door.

He answers it after your third knock. “Amor I was just about to come get-what’s wrong?” You enter his place and you take a deep breathe.

“Miguel, be honest with me.” You say to him. “Of course, amor. I’ll always be honest with you.” You give him the paper and he looks it over. He looks up at you in confusion. “You had someone watching me? Why?”

“Because Miguel, even though we’ve been together for months, I really don’t know who you are. And there’s more. When you got hurt back at the restaurant, you had gotten cut badly and I know you did because your blood was on my hands. But a few hours later you were with me and you didn’t have a scratch on you. When I ask about where you grew up you say in Nueva York but you don’t tell me the location. You haven’t told me how you have those fangs and when I try to ask you about your past you change the subject.”

“Tommie, I promise I’ll tell you when the time is righ-”

“No! Tell me now! You show up late to things I invite you to and all you can do is say I’m sorry! What are you hiding from me!”

“You aren’t ready to know!”

“Fine! If it’s going to be like that then maybe we should take a break.”

“No don’t-don’t leave me.” You hear Miguel speak but you already have your hand in the door knob. You don’t want to leave but you need to know why he is acting this way.

He grabs you from behind and you feel his grip tighten on you. “I don’t want you to leave me, when you find out the truth.” You close your eyes and turn with your face in his chest.

“Please, Miguel. Just tell me the truth.” You open your eyes and see those sad hazel eyes looking down at you.

He lets you go and he takes several steps back.

“I should start from the beginning. You know about my work. How I am a scientist and I dabble in gene splicing.”

You suddenly don’t like where this story is going.

“Well, about three years ago, I was working with someone I thought I could trust. He had made many promises to me and I believed every last one of them. However he was dabbling in pharmaceuticals and had released it to the poor part of the public. He had created this…drug called rapture. If you have too much of it you can become addicted to it. I got wind of this and I didn’t want to be part of his company anymore so I told him that I was leaving. He didn’t like that. And I should’ve been smart enough to know he wasn’t going to let me leave so easily. So he had invited me out for drinks and he kept on giving me drinks. But in those drinks he had laced them with ten times the dosage of rapture and I was instantly addicted to the stuff. He told me that if he couldn’t keep me then he was going to ruin me. But with the knowledge I had with my research. I knew how I could break the addiction. I had done the tests on multiple animals, so why wouldn’t it work on a human subject?”

“Miguel, what did you splice your genes with?” You ask with a shake in your voice. He crouches for a second and in a blink he was on the ceiling, crawling around.

You fall flat on your ass and he taps his smart watch that was on his wrist. With strange technology, you watch as a suit molds to his body. He then lands in front of you and you gasp.

“You’re Spide-there’s not fucking way you’re him!” He taps his watch and his mask recedes from his face. “Amor, I am Spider-man. That’s why I’ve been late to a lot of your get togethers. I’ve been well you know.” You blink several times and just stare at him.

Miguel reaches out to touch you but you flinch from his claws. He jerks his hand back. “I apologize, but just know I would never hurt you.” His claws molds back into his fingertips and you slowly stand up. “I should go.” You blurt out. “Wait, Tommie I can understand that this is a shock to you.”

“No, this is more than a shock and I’m about to have a panic attack. Are the walls closing in?” You feel dizzy and he holds you up. But you move from his touch. “Amor, you don’t look to good.”

You feel like you’re about to throw up but you keep it together. “I need to get out of here.”

“But you said you wouldn’t leave.” You can hear the panic in his tone and you want to understand but the panic attack is stronger than your logical mind.

“Miguel, I’m sorry. I have to go.” You manage to open the door and leave his apartment in a rush. “I love you.” You hear him say after you. Before you knew it you were crying as you slammed your apartment door behind you.

“Tommie! What’s wrong?” Erica yells after you. But you ignore her and run to your room. You dive under the covers and you scream into your pillow.

You felt overwhelmed, anxious, and most of all hurt, because if he could hide something that big from you, then what else could he hiding?

The skeletons in his closet were just too much to handle.

••••

You’ve never done drugs before but if you did, then you’d be having withdrawals. You knew he was watching you because there were traces of him around you. When you were at work, you’d see finger prints on the outside of your window.

When you left your apartment, you could smell his scent by the door.

You’d dream about being in his arms, and this was driving you crazy.

Just go back to him!

Your brain was screaming.

But your body was hesitating. Why?

It was after work and you were staying in for the night. Milo was no where to be found and you were sitting there watching Anastasia. Technically the movie was watching you.

You were staring outside, thinking about Miguel. Wondering if he was okay. “This is stupid, you can just go over there and talk to him, Tommie.” You tell yourself. In your mind, you were already at his apartment, telling him how sorry you were for acting the way you did.

You look at your phone and you see he hasn’t messaged you in the past week.

The phone goes both ways. His words ring in your head and you decide to message him.

I’m sorry for the way I acted, I guess it all just became a lot for me to handle. I guess you were right when you said I wasn’t ready.

You erase that and type again.

I was stupid, will you forgive me?

You erase that message as well.

BABY PLEASSSSE!

You roll your eyes and erase that.

As you go to type something better, Miguel’s name pops up on your call screen. You answer it immediately. “Hi…” You breathe into the phone. “Hi, mi corazón. I didn’t think you’d pick up.”

“I didn’t think you’d call. Listen I’m so sorry for the way I acted. You told me something very important and I treated it very childish.”

“No, amor. I should have told you sooner. I apologize.”

“How about we both apologize, and you come over because I’m lonely and Milo is hiding.” Miguel gives a husky laugh. “I will come to you in a se-” You hear a loud crash in the background and you sit up. “Miguel! Miguel are you alright? Answer me!”

“I’ll call you right ba-“ The phone goes dead and you quickly turn to the news. So far nothing had popped up. That’s good news right? That means it’s nothing major. You try to tell yourself.

Dread hits your chest when you see a 'this just in' headline across the screen.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, as you can tell there has been a prison outbreak on the upper west side. Some of the inmates have taken over the jail and a few have escaped….huh? He’s here?”

You see in the far background, Miguel was was swinging into the prison and you were at the edge of your seat.

“Miguel, please be safe. Please be sa-” You see what looks like lights flashing in the prison and you think the worse.

“Baby, please be safe. I need you to be safe.” You pray as you continue to watch the footage.

“A source has said that the escaped prisoners have been located. They were encased in webbing. And-” The news reporter goes silent and nods.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am happy to inform you that, Spider-Man has gotten the situation under control. I repeat, Spider-Man has gotten the situation under control. The warden as well as staff are all safe and there are no casualties.”

You let out a breathe you didn’t know you were holding and jump when you feel Milo’s little paws on your toes.

“Milo! He did it! My boyfriend did it! Oh my god, I’m dating a super hero! I’m dating Spider-Man! Wait I shouldn’t say that too loud.” You jump up and down with happiness and you give Milo a big kiss on his head then set him back down as you go and take a quick shower before Miguel comes over.

•••

You were freshly showered and wearing a silver night gown as well as a grey headscarf. As you sat in your room with your lap top adding clothes to your cart. You swear you’re going to buy the stuff this time. You then hear a tap to your window.

You look over and you see him, hanging upside down. “Miguel!” You hiss as you run over and open the window down him. He crawls inside and he lands on his feet, towering over you.

His suit recedes off of him and he was your Miguel. “Hola hermosa.” He keeps still and you take a step forward. “Hi, you did good out there.” You say as you place your hands on his chest. He takes them and he kisses them. “That is my other job, amor. I hope you can understand that, if you still want to be together that is who you’ll be with as well.”

You give a sad smile. “I can handle that, though I’ll probably worry about you ten times more than I usually do. And what do you mean if? I still want this to work, you’re not getting rid of me Miguel.” He smiles and he leans down kissing you.

He then rests his head against yours. “Good, because keeping an eye on you has been torture for me. Always being close but never being with you. That hurts me more than getting punched in the face by Vulture.”

“So that’s who punched you? God I heard about him, doesn’t he…eat people?” He nods and he gently moves the lace strap off of your shoulder. “Is this new?” He asks.

“I got this a while ago, I figured you’d like it….” You’ve definitely said that before but when? “I do like it…I’ve missed you. I know it’s only been a week but I’ve missed being this close.” Miguel cups your face and he kisses you deeply.

You’ve missed this as well. His taste, his touch. God you’ve missed this man and your body was finally getting its dose of dopamine.

You break from the kiss first. “Promise me, that you’ll make sure you’re safe out there.” Miguel eyes saddens but you shake your head. “Please promise me.” He sighs and nods. “I promise, amor.” You kiss him and he lifts you up off of the floor bridal style and he places you on the bed.

“Te necesito, I need you so badly it hurts.” Miguel strips off his shirt and tosses it somewhere in your room. You help him with his pants as he kicks off his shoes.

Once he is completely naked, he helps you out of your night gown. You lay back down as Miguel lays on top of you and kisses your neck. “Tell me about your day, amor. I’ve missed your voice.” He whispers against your right breast.

He sucks that breast and you run your fingers through his hair and moan softly. “Today…was tough because I missed you…” You get distracted by the way his tongue rolls over your nipples but you get back into focus in telling him about your day.

“….but I…mmm, I got a lot of work done. I…oh please keep doing that. I checked the calendar and I’m due for a va…vacation, Miguel I can’t keep talking when you lick me like t-” You cut yourself off as watch Miguel crawl back between your legs.

“Fair enough, amor. Then I’ll tell you about my day. But first.” Miguel moves so both of you are laying side by side, but you’re in front of him and he has your leg partly lifted up.

“My day was miserable because I didn’t wake up under you this morning.” Miguel says as he slowly slides inside of you. You arch your back and touch his face as you feel your walls mold around his dick. “Eres tan apretada mi amor. So tight. Mmm, I had saved a woman from being robbed. I made sure…I made sure I kept an eye on you at work, oh shit, make it tighter for me, Tommie. I had lunch on the Statue of Liberty’s crown and I saved a prison from being taken over. But you know what made the day worth it?” He asks as he keeps his slow pace.

“What baby?” You moan as he keeps going in and out of you. “Being here with you. Being with you in this moment…being deep inside of you.” He slows down and he kisses your neck. You lean your head back against him and you feel his fangs gently trace the veins down your throat.

“I love you, I love you so much, Tommie.” He moans as he grips your hips and goes a bit harder with his thrusts but he keeps a slow pace.

“I love you too. I love you too, baby.” You moan out breathlessly. You lift your legs a bit more and feel him go deeper inside of you. You feel him reach down and rub slow circles around your clit and you let out a groan. “Baby, go faster. Please go faster.” You moan out.

“No, no, no, amor. You can take it at this pace. I know you can. I haven’t had this pussy in a week, fuck, I’m going to savor this pretty pussy for a while. But you can take it right? You can take daddy’s dick.” You go stupid for a second and forget how to speak as he keeps the same pace.

The pace he’s going was making a slow and hard build up for you, which made you grip your walls around him. Miguel grips your throat and kisses you deep. “You know exactly what you’re doing with this little pussy. If you keep that up, I’m going to come, amor.” Miguel moans as he starts to pick up the pace. “Please do, please come deep inside of me.” You moan out as he switches positions.

He was now on top of you and he was gripping your headboard as he did deep strokes. You place your hands on his chest and you reach up to pull him close to you. You tug at his bottom lip and your nails finds a way to his back.

Miguel starts to pick up the pace, causing the bed to shake. You start breathing heavy as you feel yourself about to climax. “Ven por mí, princesa. Come for me.” He thrusts harder and you start to stutter out his name. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” You groan as your walls pulse around him. Your nails dig deep into his back and he grabs a hold of you and he does two last stroke before he pumps you full.

You both still as you both come down from the climax high. He stays inside of you and he balances on his elbows. “You are amazing. Tan asombrosa.” You smile and kiss his lips. “You’re the amazing one. You are a super hero. I bet you’ve saved a lot of people.”

That comment made him frown.

He slides out of you causing the both of you to gasp. He then lays beside you and you turn to your side. “What’s wrong?” You ask him as you run a finger over a scar you hadn’t noticed before.

He gently moves your hand from his chest and he holds it. “My job, is just like anyone else’s who has to deal with the public. I have good days and I have bad days. In your eyes I am this amazing person, but amor. There will be days that I will come home to you and I’ll have to have let someone die. This job isn’t full of rewards.”

“Do you want to talk about it? I figured you don’t have anyone to talk to about this.” You offer. “You don’t have to amor. I don’t want to bring you such sadness.”

You sit up and sit criss cross. “Miguel, I have my sad days. Just like you. If there is one thing I can tell you is that, I understand loss. I love my grandparents, I do. But I’ll never have my dad walk me down the aisle. I’ll never have my mom guide me into motherhood. It took a few years of therapy and counseling to tell me that it wasn’t my fault that they passed. Even though I thought it was….” You look down at your fingers and let out a breath you know you’ve been holding since your were thirteen.

“…I was so angry with my parents. Over a missed event, over some play I don’t remember. But I remember that I was angry with them because they told me they wouldn’t be home in time to be with me. I went to bed angry. But when I woke up, my grandparents had told me the news. I felt that because I went to bed angry it was my fault that they were gone. I had so much…anger inside of me. That I had came to hate myself. And you know what they said when you’re an intelligent person. You tend to know how to do dangerous things.”

You look up at Miguel and you close your eyes. “My grandfather found me and I was rushed to the hospital. They had pumped my stomach and I got lectured that my parents wouldn’t have wanted me to take my own life. And I’m not telling you this for sympathy. No, I’m telling you this because I know what it’s like to have bad days, and I was happy later on when I had someone to talk to about it. So, Miguel let me be that person for you. Don’t bottle it up, if you have a bad super hero day then tell me. If you need a hug then my arms are always opened for you.” Miguel sits up and he pulls you into his arms.

“Thank you, Tommie. This helps.” He kisses your temple and you let a yawn escape. “Let’s get some rest.” You nod and grab the sheets and pull it over the two of you.

Miguel pulls you on top of him and you let your head rest on his chest. “Baby, what spider did you splice yourself with?” You ask feeling sleepy.

You feel him stroke a hand against your shoulder and he looks down at you. “If I tell you, you’ll have nightmares. Just know that it isn’t deadly. Well it’s only deadly when threatened.” He gives a soft chuckle and you rub your face into his chest. “Good night.” You whisper as you take a deep breathe and fall asleep in Miguel’s arms…

Previously, Next

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part One

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Warnings: This is gonna deal with a lot of controversial shit surrounding Matty and his past I'm ngl, so if you're not into that then I'd suggest not reading this! But if you are, then hi!! I hope you enjoy?

Authors Note: I'm back...:)) Back with a series too, or it will be if this first part goes down well! Lmao so pls don't hate it! Butttt in all honestly, I do have to quickly thank @procrastinatinglikeapro for all the kind words she gave me on the snippets I annoyed her with recently and for forcing me to actually believe in this fic because I very much was on the fence about posting again. So thank youuuu, it means a whole lot<3 Also, the skeleton of this was taken from a very old fic of mine which I started during the height of covid that I've just been thinking about trying to better for a long while now, so... enjoy?

And I guess let me know if this is something anyone would want to read more of? Yeeeeah, I really don't know what else to write here now, it's been a while, so! Hi, help, bye:)

Masterlist

Chapter 1: He's got the whole world falling at his feet

“Yeah, yeah! I’m really into their sound at the minute! Honestly fell in love with their recent performance at the VMA’s– didn’t overdo it and kept it true to themselves. Definitely did a great job there, so well done with that one if you’re listening in, lads!”

I was grinning from ear to ear as I spoke into the microphone before me, which was to be expected whenever I was at work. Strange, yeah I know, but only to any typical person with the usual nine to five, because I truly did love my job. It was tough work, strenuous at times, contrary to what most might believe, but it was pretty much everything I’d ever dreamt of.

See, I’d grown up on the outskirts of this tiny village in the Isles, where everybody knew everything about everybody. Secrets were never well kept– you could just ask our local priest about that one, who often used to regale most of the confessions he’d heard in the only pub around for miles whenever he’d been pissed beyond being able to sit on his barstool. 

It was also incredibly tight-knit, as in, all the kids who went to school together, then grew up and married one another, settling down and taking over the jobs that their parents or grandparents would soon retire from. Hardly anyone moved away, if ever.

In reality though, it was actually just a place I’d always felt like a stranger in. Where I’d struggled to fit in and make friends, to form bonds outside of the one I shared with my mum. 

Which sounds sad speaking about it, but still true, I’d had a real tough go of it back in school. ‘Mouse’ was what they’d seemingly dubbed me back then, a nickname which had travelled throughout the masses all too quickly seeing as there had only been about sixteen kids in both my year and the one above. 

The name had mostly started due to me just having been an extremely timid child, hiding behind my mum’s flowing skirts whenever we went into town and much preferring that of my own company whenever other kids were mulling about. But that fact hadn’t gotten any easier for me once I’d been forced out of school for a few years after an accident that had flipped my entire life on its head. Resulting in me being further isolated from the rest of the world and my fuck-face of a father running for the hills.

Still. Shit happened, I supposed, and I’d been forced to deal with it and grow up.

Too quickly, in truth.

So whilst everyone else had been out living, I’d been holed up in our little dove cottage miles away from them all, with only books and music to keep me company. Music which had been a true constant in my life and just about the only thing that had gotten me by.

As well as my mum, who’d forever be my rock. And back when we’d both been growing up– because that was how it’d always felt with us– she had constantly had the tele on full blast throughout the day, cycling through the freeview channels that played the recent top 50 and old school classics.

It was one of my favourite things to look back on now. Sometimes if she was ever in the mood, or when the power would finally flicker and go out completely when a storm hit, she’d spin this old phonograph her own father had gifted her in the days before she’d left home. The two of us would dance around the living room whilst she would clean on Saturday mornings and then hum to it as we settled in for a long downpour, her working on her trusty crossword whilst I would read or draw. The brass  pavilion would croon out old French records she had bought long before she’d moved to the UK, and before she’d ever even met my father.

And I would just lose myself in it all. 

It wasn’t just the basic premise of music that I had enjoyed though, it was everything else that also came along with it. The opinions, the reviews, the personal stories and thoughts, the way it could make a person think and feel. 

So, for years I would just sit down at the kitchen table and write for hours on end about the sound, the rhythms I’d felt and heard, the lyrics that had had me bellowing out or playing on a never-ending loop in my head. And then, as a teen, Twitter had come along and had been just another way for me to express it all.

It was actually Twitter that had eventually led to all of this. 

The radio.

At first, I’d never paid much mind to all of the people who had started to discover the small page I’d created, the few users that had enjoyed reading my inner thoughts. But then one day I had and it had been an insane concept to comprehend, the very idea that people cared enough to stop and read my thoughts, but it was also what had, ultimately, pushed me into continuing with it.

From there, opinions on genres of music and their style throughout different decades quickly turned into thoughts on up and coming artists, then actors and other A-list celebrities. So I had ended up spending an awful lot of time online, simply just tweeting about it all, on subjects followers had wanted to hear about and answering questions on whether I loved a certain album or this new EP. 

The account had grown rapidly shortly after and by the time I’d had the balls to tell my mum I had wanted to leave home and make a start for myself, in London of all places, the account I used had gained well over fifteen thousand followers.

I went to uni down there and met people. People who didn’t shy away from me or shine a light on my odd quirks. I met my best mate there, too. And Finn was unlike any other. The platonic love of my life, or so I’d since dubbed. He was eccentric, witty, and didn’t care about what anyone else thought of him. Forced me to feel that way too, slowly but surely. And it had only taken a few weeks before he'd grown rather suspicious of my constant need to always have my phone near.

He had, pretty early on, decided that I must’ve had some secret boyfriend back at home that I’d yet to tell him about and had annoyed me about it at every twist and turn, basically backed me into a metaphorical corner. So to say I’d relented fairly quickly wouldn’t be a lie, and I’d told him all about the account soon enough.

Finn had actually been the one to suggest that I take it further, somewhere bigger, make it into something that people could actually tune into and not just read about. I had taken the consideration on board way back then, but had only acted on it when shit had hit the fan a year or so later. But we'll soon get into that.

So with it all, I ended up making an actual radio show out of my thoughtless Twitter account, allowing people to listen in and actually get to know the person behind the name.

That was essentially how ‘Mouse On A Mic' had come to life.

Yup, I’d kept the fucking nickname! I couldn’t not in truth, it was familiar, reminded me of the person I once was, and who I currently am now. But the only difference was, I’d given it a new story. I’d reclaimed it. 

The show's audience grew fairly quickly during that first year, I was new on the scene and seemingly refreshing. I had a no-bullshit kind of attitude that my listeners apparently admired. I called celebs out on their crap and went to new extremes to conjure up inventive ways to get followers involved. 

Ultimately ended up doing things that other radio presenters were too afraid to do at the time. Which was fair enough, in hindsight, they had actual endorsers and brands that were backing them up and funding their streams. Me, on the other hand, I had no-one to answer to for my mistakes or any of the backlash the show received. It was just me, sat alone in my bedroom, speaking into a mic.

Only, a few years had since passed and now it was me sitting in a quaint little studio in East London, not too far from my flat and walking distance from any and every coffee chain that the city had to offer. 

Anyway, I forced myself to adjust my headset over my right ear as I wheeled closer to the table, aware of the one too many monitors and power cables I had to constantly avoid, and glanced upwards, locking eyes with my co-producer, Adi.

The girl shot me a hurried gesture, a circular wave of her hand that had me chuckling to myself even as I silently waved her off, knowing I’d already gotten off track one too many times this recording. 

"Alright! It seems as though we've got to move on with the next segment of the show now! Unfortunately, Ads here has informed me that I can't just sit around all day and talk about Inhaler forever. A right shame that, don’t you think?”

I huffed theatrically whilst Adi merely shook her head in return, dark ringlets brushing the length of her shoulders as she mouthed the word 'prick' through the thick sheet of plexiglass that separated us.

Ignoring that loving endearment in favour of continuing on with the commentary, I hoped I hadn’t steered too far off track seeing as there was still an awful lot scheduled for today's show that I had yet to go over.

“So moving on!” I sighed on into the mic and rubbed my palms together, eyes flitting over the few sheets of paper I had perched before me, “It seems like quite a few of you lot, over on Twitter especially, have made it loudly known that you want to hear my thoughts on Manchester’s very own Matthew Healy. God, is there yet another scandal under his belt I don’t yet know about? Makes me wonder where he’s finding the time.”

I shook my head briefly at the bulleted point I’d been given and rolled forward in my seat. The wheels squeaked beneath my weight and I made a silent prayer that the mics hadn’t picked up the sound. 

What a fucking topic, I thought quietly to myself and sent Adi a semi-amused smile before peering down at the recent headline she had handed over to me earlier that morning.

It was the same old thing. Expected really at this point.

“Healy’s at it again! Whatever will we do?” I gasped, playing up the whole thing as I stared down at a few images of the haughty singer that were plastered across the printout I held in front of me. 

There were four of them, a quick succession of pictures that had all seemingly come from a clip at a recent concert. Bit blurry but the title gave away to what was happening.

A laugh bubbled up out of my throat as soon as I read the headline. “Oh God! It appears Matty Healy is– wait for it!– back at it again, only this time it seems he’s gone and traded off a drumstick for…” I paused to drum quite the anticipating beat against the tabletop of my desk and, as stoic as I possibly could, I then added, “A joint!” 

A smug grin slid its way up onto my lips when I heard Adi’s faint cackle echo from just outside the booth.

“Honestly, I swear that everything this man does makes the rags! Reckon I actually saw an article about how he took his tea this one time. And like, do me a favour, yeah?” I rolled my eyes but relented, “A man of the people though, in’t he? He’s got to be! I mean, just look at this headline. Fucking who the hell writes this shit?”

Tossers, I supposed. But even so.

“It’s madness.” I muttered, gently clucking my tongue as I shook my head at the so-called news that had made the front page. “But anyway, I’m guessing that most people claim him to be the epitome of a real time rockstar, and sure, he might just be. 'Sex, drugs, rock & roll', all that shit. But really, how much longer is it going to last until everything goes tits up, hey?

“I mean, Healy can pretty much do whatever he wants at this point in his career, he’s got half the world either falling at his feet or complaining about him- has done since he was what, a kid? Following his parents amongst the shadows of their fame before he eventually stepped out and made an actual name for himself. Saying that, it still is insane to see how much he’s changed!”

And it was. Healy and his band had risen to fame so evidently, their music everywhere, they sold out shows constantly and had the privilege to fly across the globe doing whatever they pleased. But they’d also practically grown up in the limelight, Matty especially. So it was hard not to notice the resounding changes that shone through in all the news and gossip that ran riot.

“But, if I am being truthful.” I went on to say, thumb toying with the page’s sharp edge, “And when am I not? I thought that most of the shit that went around about him at first was a load of crap– publicity of sorts, if you get where I'm going with that. Or maybe just him being an idiot, a young lad who’s had to grow up with all these cameras consistently on him and had to basically learn what he can and can’t say in front of them. Slipping up from time to time, like most do. But, now? I’m honestly not too sure… It’s just a bit sad. Isn't it? There was so much potential there.”

I shrugged, a hearty sigh falling with my shoulders.

“I actually used to quite like his stuff a couple years ago, he’s got a way with words, with music overall really. Reckon if he’d gotten his shit together that he probably could’ve been ranked higher up on the list of rockstars. Could’ve changed or paved a way for newer musicians entering the scene. But not so much anymore. His songs lack the passion they once had, they’re not what they used to be. He works hard, I’ll give him that. Still, I can’t help but wonder if it’s just his band pulling his dead weight along with them now.”

I took a slow breath, then gazed down at the small amount of sticky notes I had pinned to the monitor beside me: the next segment. I’d have to wrap this one up quickly.

“Maybe that’s a bit harsh.” I said, chewing on my lower lip, “But honestly, I just hope that he takes an actual break sooner rather than later. The band looks spent and he just seems like he could do with some shut eye, some time away from all the cameras and prying eyes. Just so he can sort himself out good and proper, you know? Then again, that’s just my opinion among a sea of many.”

In truth, I really did think that Matty had real talent, that raw kind, and he seemed like a nice enough guy– or at least he had done, a couple of years back, before all the controversy and whatever else. 

Now though, the man just seemed so caught up in it all, in the fame, the tabloids, the drama. Unaware of just how far he’d fallen.

Me, I’d seen it one too many times before, with many of the greats even, and as painful as it was to watch, what more could I say or do? I'm nobody in comparison.

I blew out a short breath.

“Fuck, that got all serious didn’t it?” I tried to laugh it all off and only felt a little more at ease when I finally glanced up and caught Adi’s sincere smile, “Anyway, onto our next segment, reading a couple of your lots tweets! Let's see what everyone's saying about our amazing Adi today, shall we? What was it last week, Ads, those yellow trousers you were wearing?”

--

“Oi, will you two please stop mucking about? We’ve got to get going!” I scolded without any actual heat, shaking my head as I held back a chuckle, forever amused by the infamous pair stood a way away from me. 

I’d not long since left the studio, having walked with Adi to the nearby tube station so that she could hop a train home before I had headed on over to Finn’s. It was a typical route for me and not too long of a walk, but since arriving I’d been roped into packing up the many belongings that had been messily upended from the Spiderman backpack I was so often seen carrying about.

My gaze skittered over to the other side of the room once I’d teethed together the bag’s plastic zipper, over to where my son, Teddy, was currently in the midst of being whirled around by his godfather, tawny coloured curls flying in every-which direction whilst his cheeky grin grew even more prominent.

I felt the corners of my mouth lift upwards as I watched my best mate laugh at whatever it was the toddler had just said to him, tickling the boy’s sides as he did. If I was feeling incredibly sappy, I’d tell Finn then just how thankful I was to have him around, because he truly was incredible. 

From the moment I’d found out that I was pregnant, Finn had been there for me. He loved my son almost as though Teddy was his own, he adored the kid like no other and had placed him on a pedestal high above everyone else since the day he was born. 

Finn was always free to take Teddy whenever I had the show to fret about too, or if I was ever in dire need of another helping hand. He was fiercely protective of the two of us and I knew in the very depths of my heart that there would never be a hair harmed on my son’s head so long as he was around. 

I was pulled from my thoughts just as the toddler in question came bounding over, giggling uncontrollably as Finn chased after him, his arms stretched out wide and crouched down low to mimic the small boy's height. I couldn't help but notice the matching grins they both wore.

“Help!” Teddy squealed as he flung himself into my awaiting arms, allowing me to wrap him up and settle him safely on my hip, using my frame as a shield to block him from Finn’s view.

"You can't hide from me Teds, I’ll always find you!" Finn taunted playfully, laughing merrily whilst he wiggled his fingers at Teddy, who was only just peeking out at him from over my shoulder.

Teddy squirmed in my grasp, giggling and screaming senselessly as he tried to dodge Finn’s oncoming hands that had since managed to softly graze his sides. I could only roll his eyes in fond exasperation, the pair never failing to brighten my day, and couldn't help but feel ever so grateful for whatever being had brought Finn into both mine and Teddy’s lives.

You see, Finn was the closest thing I’d ever had to a brother, let alone a best friend. He’d been the family I’d never known I’d needed, a home away from home. And I knew that I could always count on him for just about anything and he had proved that the day I’d turned up on his doorstep in the pissing rain one Tuesday night, utterly terrified after having just found out that I was expecting. 

“Alright, you lot!” I began, batting away one of Finn’s advancing hands as he made to grab at Teddy's tiny ankle. “We've got to get home in time for your bath and tea, and I think Finn here has to pick up Liv from work.”

I was directing my voice towards the toddler in my arms but also sent a knowing look Finn’s way, one which caused the man’s eyes to widen in immediate realisation. ‘Liv’ was actually the lovely Olivia, Finn’s newest fling– only she had managed to last quite a while longer than the rest, a new record for him really. 

“Shit, yeah.” Finn muttered mostly to himself before he hurried on over to his desk in the far corner. I could only laugh quietly, Teddy joining in too when he noticed, and watched on as Finn hastily started to grab at an array of items, shoving them into his jean pockets. Phone. Wallet. Keys.

When he was finished, and somewhat out of breath, Finn spun back around towards us and shot an accusing brow our way, not too pleased about having been the source of our mirth. Teddy and I couldn't help ourselves then and laughed a little harder at his impervious expression. 

But with that all done and over with, I simply pressed my nose against the side of Teddy's head and smiled contently into his curls whilst Finn merely rolled his eyes at the two of us, chuckling before he made a start for the door. I followed just behind him, Teddy's backpack slung low over my shoulder and a happy little boy nestled in my arms.

***

People lover @/user1 Imagine being a mediocre radio host and thinking you know the ins and outs of the music industry.. #CancelMouse

102 @/user2  Don't mind me, reckon I just found my new favourite radio show:)

Ugh! @/user3 Mouse sounded proper excited today but switched up so quick when that 75 bloke came up://

Soloveme @/user4 Hate to see people supporting toxic behaviour, sit down. 

Milk @/user5 Don’t hate me, I'll forever be a matty girlie!! But @Mouseonamic I kinda agree??

Paris @/user6 Do you think he’s seen it yet? > Too_shy @/user7 Probably, it’s trending rn >> Drummepls @/user8 Hope he’s okay and doesn’t take it as a personal attack.. 

He should’ve known really.

He should’ve fucking known.

Even in his drunken state he should have known not to look at what they were all fucking saying about him. Slumped on the floor of his hotel room, propped up against the bathroom door, too exhausted to think about moving, let alone try.

He’d only heard a small snippet, caught the last of a conversation on it in a cab ride back from the club the band had found themselves in. But he had heard it, and he had listened. 

"He's got the whole world falling at his feet." He fucking wished. "Changed." Too right. "A load of crap- publicity of sorts, if you get where I'm going with that- but now I'm not too sure." Laughable, man. "It's just a bit sad." The story of his fucking life. "Potential." When’s he never not disappointing someone? "Lacks passion." Passion lies in living, mate, and he hasn't felt alive in a very long time. 

"Not what it used to be." Who he used to be.

He lit another cigarette from a crumpled pack he’d pulled from his back pocket and watched on as a curl of smoke unfurled in the air. He only wished he’d gone and brought something upstairs with him, or grabbed one of them little bottles from the minibar before he had decided he’d needed a piss. But if he closed his eyes hard enough he could imagine it all going dark, the world just fading around him, and the cigarette was suddenly enough.

Though, even then he still couldn’t quite muffle the loud, pitying laugh that escaped him as he continued to scroll through the mass of tweets that never faltered on his phone. They were like a freight train, unable to stop.

Matty wiped his nose on his sleeve.

Never had he ever felt so fucking lost. Desperate for everything to just pause for a simple second. To stop and just leave him alone for a bit. To have the world let him wallow in the dark dank pit he's hollowed out for himself.

But what a fucking life, hey?

Carelessly, Matty thumbed across the dimming screen, his intoxicated mind too focused on the task at hand to remember why exactly it was he was even sitting there on the cold bathroom floor. Something to do with Hann, he supposed, or George. Perhaps another heated encounter? Probably.

The sound of his phone's keyboard echoed off the surrounding walls and he breathed out a self-depreciating chuckle when he clicked send on the tweet he’d been attempting to curate, not caring enough for the consequences. Hardly even thinking, in truth. 

He was far too gone to care anymore, already knew firsthand what the repercussions would be tomorrow. But at that moment, he just wanted honesty. To tell the truth, for once. To let them all know that he knew he was a shit excuse for a person.

What more could the world possibly say anyway? 

Everyone around him was the same. He was simply just a puppet on a string. They’d make him sing and dance until the day he finally wrapped those wired strings tightly around his neck, and then all they'd be able to do is sit back and watch the show. And he'd enjoy every unabating second of it.

Matty @/trumanblack 10s ago Radio shows are sick man, gotta love them! And I sort of am sad haha. And I do lie? We all lie, I spose. But just listen to the radio, kids! Open your ears!

He laughed silently after, thoroughly amused with himself, and tossed the phone off somewhere off to the side so that he wouldn’t have to look at it again. 

Bullshit. It was all just fucking bullshit.

[neonshrike]

✍️ WIP Wednesday ✍️

Here’s part of the holiday fic with Brenna where she meets the rest of her paternal family and where I include Bruce’s tragic childhood from the comics.

Tagging @captastra @socially-awkward-skeleton @jillvalentinesday @perpetuagf @shellibisshe @the-laridian @the-lastcall @marivenah @corvosattano @nightbloodbix and anyone else who would like to share!

“Brenna, would you be a dear and get the Christmas tins from the attic?” Elaine asked, rummaging through the pantry for ingredients to bake gingerbread cookies with. “They should just be on one of the shelves.” Brenna nodded her head and went upstairs to the attic, turning on the dim light as she started to rummage through the shelves. The attic was full of all sorts of things, and when she tried to reach the tins, something fell behind her. Brenna turned around to see a small photo album with pictures spilled out, and bent down to pick them up. It was just a few Polaroid photos of a stern-looking man with a mustache, but one picture in particular caught her eye. It was from a previous Christmas, dated 1970. Against a decorated tree, the man stood with the same look on her face next to a woman who strangely resembled Brenna holding a baby. Brenna started putting the pictures back in the album, the front was labeled Brian. She left the picture she was looking at for last, and stared down at it in thought, curious to know who these people were and why they were hidden up here. She had the slightest idea who the baby was in the picture, but wanted to know for sure. Brenna put away the album, then folded the picture and put it in her pocket. She grabbed the tins and left the attic, deciding to get some answers about what she found later. When Elaine and Morris went to bed, Brenna softly knocked on the door of the guest room Bruce was staying in. He told her to come in, and she opened it to see him reading in bed. “Hey, Brenna,” he greeted with a warm smile. “Can I talk to you?” she cautiously asked, a little nervous to show him what she found earlier. He looked at her with concern, wondering if there was anything wrong. “Of course, sweetheart. Are you okay?” he asked, motioning for her to sit next to him. Brenna nodded, sitting front of him on the bed. As she pulled out the picture, Bruce raised an eyebrow, puzzled to see where she was going with this. “I found this earlier. Who are these people?” Brenna asked, unfolding it for him to see. Bruce’s pulse immediately quickened when he looked down, he let out a sigh before speaking. “That’s me as a baby, and those were your grandparents.” Her eyes widened a little and she looked back down at the picture, then back to her father to compare the resemblance between them. “Why were they hidden up in the attic then?” she asked innocently, and Bruce frowned. Part of him knew this day was coming, when she would ask about his side of the family, but it wasn’t easy to explain. “Brenna, that is a very long and very painful story,” he sighed. “But they’re my grandparents, I deserve to know!” she retorted. Bruce was about to try and shut down this conversation, but realized she was old enough and mature to hear about it. She already had to deal with her father being the Hulk, spending half her life without him because of it. “It can’t be any worse than what Grandpa Thaddeus did to you,” Brenna shrugged, and he gave her an unsure expression, those were wildly different experiences but they were both terrible. “Come here, I’ll tell you everything.” Bruce moved over in bed, and Brenna laid next to him, still holding the picture. He looked down at her, softly stroking her hair with a sad smile. “Before I start, you know I love you and I would never, ever hurt you, right?”

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #95

I went with J, Br, and her son F to a place with animatronic dinosaurs today!!!!!!!!!!

The last time I had seen anything like this was a REALLY LONG TIME AGO (I was somewhere between 6 and 10), with my grandparents, Nanna and Poppy. And I gotta say, it was FASCINATING to be able to experience it again - this time with AUTONOMY! Holy crap!!

Also, it was amazing to be able to go to this exhibit while having an appreciation for the massive amount of work that goes into putting stuff like this together. Inside the silicone flesh of these mechanical beasts, there are robotic parts that make it move, and little speakers that make them roar!!! And then of course there's all the little details, like the arrangement of the fake tropical plants (someone needs to MAKE those! and then PLACE them!), the markings on the silicone, the order in which they are arranged, and…!! and...!!

And I know some bitter-ass folks will be all like, "man this shit is corny as fuck!" or "this is for BABIES!", but… well. I'm not a bitter-ass folk anymore, so here's how it actually is: a large number of people went to these incredible lengths just for the sake of making anyone who witnesses the exhibit smile, and if that's not beautiful, then I don't know what is. An incredible amount of expertise - in electricity, engineering, robotics, anatomy and physiology, paleontology, art, and more - went into making this amazing spectacle of the human imagination possible. And I think that this is a FAR better use of expertise as compared to, say, weapons manufacture. Just sayin'.

…Oh right!!! You ah… you might not know what dinosaurs are. I'm… not sure that you have them in your world. Whoops. Uh…

So basically, dinosaurs are these HUGE GIANT BIRDS and HUGE GIANT LIZARDS that used to live on my planet a LOOOONG time ago, back when the climate and atmosphere were WAAAY different than they are now (for example, the insects back in those days were HUGE because there was more oxygen to go around; nowadays, there isn't enough to support metabolic needs of bugs that size). We only know they exist because the humans of this place, much like the humans of your place, seem to enjoy digging shit up just for the heck of it. And they found bones and whole skeletons and more, preserved under layers of rock. We've done our best to try to reconstruct what these creatures might have looked like and how they might have lived, but… well… lemme put it this way: no one would know from looking at the skeleton of an orca that they're basically just these huge black-and-white ovals swimming around in the sea. Their skulls are weirdly-shaped compared to their outer appearance.

Actually. This little article sums up pretty well why we can only guess at what these animals used to look like:

It was only fairly recently discovered that most of our bipedal dinosaurs had feathers. So recently, in fact, that lots of sources of information about dinosaurs STILL haven't been updated to include the fact that they had them! But again, we can only guess what colors they were and how they were arranged.

Anyway. So, fortunately or unfortunately (I'm leaning towards unfortunately), we don't have dinosaurs anymore because they were all obliterated by a GIANT FUCKING SPACE ROCK that crashed into our planet and basically ruined everything for them. The critters on my planet that exist now are what descended from the few things that survived the resulting changes to our climate and atmosphere, because as it turns out, if THAT MUCH DUST ends up getting thrown into the sky, things get really weird, really fast.

I took pictures of the exhibit! I wanted to show you how the people of my world like to imagine what these creatures might have looked like! Here:

And this one... I dunno. They tried really hard to make this one very scary, I guess?

...But I dunno. This one is giving me some serious "confused toddler meme" vibes:

One of the awesome parts of being able to go to things like this as an adult, too, is that not only do I have autonomy (I can go ANYWHERE without needing someone else's permission, and NO ONE is going to tell me to "hurry the fuck up"!!!), but I also can GET THINGS from the GIFT SHOP at the end!! And NO ONE is gonna get angry at me for expressing interest in the available items!!! So I got myself this nifty-looking tea mug! Behold!

And it even comes with a TINY ADORABLE DINOSAUR SPOON!!!

...So that's basically it for my adventures today. I really wish you were here. Just for today, I wish you could have been here.

Hey, Sephiroth? Get your shit together so that when you make it alive to the end, maybe you can go see weird animatronic dinosaurs someday, too. Okay?

I love you. I'll write again soon. Stay safe out there.

Your friend, Lumine

[facelessxchurch]

I suppose the reason Skulduggery might not have anything of his family is because he was dead for a few years. Whatever house or property they had probably got looted or burned, but hey I don’t want to make excuses for Landy.

One thing that always bothered me was when Skulduggery was resurrected, and when he came back from his time as Vile, Landy made it seem like everyone was just okay with it…? If my best friend was murdered by the enemy and his body put on display (which guaranteed Ghastly and the other Dead Men saw) and then comes back years later as a skeleton, thats just not something anybody would automatically fine with.

And then Skul disappears AGAIN with no reason or warning for another like 5 years and then just reappear one day with little to no plausible explanation

I find it hard to believe that their friends and family didn't save some stuff from their ransacked home, or if it was destroyed completely, didn't have something of theirs in their own home. Like, Skul's wife's side of the family would probably have a portrait of at least their daughter and grandchild (all SP mages are rich, so they could afford it) and some other keepsakes. For example, a drawing or a bracelet the grandchild made or whatever kids were making in 17th/18th century Ireland.

Like, my grandparents kept my first shoes and then gifted them back to me when I turned 18. I find it hard to believe that there wasn't something.

Imagine Ghastly took it upon himself to sew clothes for the still always-growing Skul-Child and when Skul returned from the dead he gifted him the last outfit he sewed for the child, a gift the child never actually received this time.

Imagine Skul had a pocket watch with his wife and child engraved into the lid or maybe it simply was a gift from his wife with a phrase that meant something to them engraved into it. Serpine took the watch off him when he captured Skul and kept it in the same case he kept the dagger he used to poison him in. He had a nagging feeling it could still be of use to him. Imagine when Skul returned from the dead, Nef carried the watch with him at all times until one day Skul had him cornered. He taunted him with what a sweet gift from the wife the watch was before throwing it as far as he could, sending Skul scrambling for it just long enough to escape.

____

Only Ghastly was friends with him before he died. And honestly, Ghastly takes more shit from Skul than he should. He's like the Baron of the Dead Men. The Dead Men only formed AFTER Skul's death. I think it was Dexter who said he joined bc he wanted to fight side by side with the 'miracle soldier'. But fact-check me on that bc I don't really care about the DM.

As for the 5 Vile years: yeah, it's so stupid that that didn't make them figure out Skul is Vile. Especially since phase 2, they shared the same GF of which everybody knew she was a bad influence on him. He really said "hoes over bros" :/

[cat-appreciator]

I’ve been thinking about the economics and politics of a state with widespread necromancy (because I was lacking 500k words of fresh fanfic perfectly tailored to my specifications, I couldn’t think of a new fandom I wanted to mine for fanfic, and my brain latched on to “why don’t you make your own?” and, well, a story needs antagonists). Since my previous ramblings about worldbuilding garnered a few likes, and I am nothing if not a slut for the digitised simulacra of human approval, and ranting at the internet helps me organise my thoughts, here they are, dear readers (I dare hope for at least two of you!).

Firstly, if you can essentially automate your labour force using reanimated corpses (or ghosts stuck into automata - more on that later) you probably end up with many of the same problems as a society based on slavery; that is, if you don’t have to pay your workers, it drives down labour costs for the working freemen/living workers. It also makes life precarious for the freemen/quick, because (in a situation where slavery is *not* divided based on ethnic lines) if you want a labourer, why not enslave/kill him? Who’s going to stop you?

This is almost certainly a society with a *lot* of social stratification - your necromancers/landed elite, the skilled artisans and workers who support them and can’t be easily replaced by slaves/undead, and then a vast underclass of slaves/corpses. Being every bit as aristocratic as any Southern gentry, robber baron, techbro nepo baby, or Roman patrician, these necromancer-aristocrats are going to be assholes. Their society practically demands it.

This is also a society with a *lot* of social and technological stagnation - I’m assuming that the dead can perform tasks they knew in life but not innovate new ones, lacking as they do that vital spark. If they are still capable of learning and growth you get instead the Eternal Republic of the Dead, which has different issues. So! Stagnation. The number of living people who can innovate is very low, they’re mostly aristocrats for whom “should we make society better somewhat?” is an irrelevant question because it already rocks *for them* and they’re invested in maintaining a society that they’re at the top of. Add to that the drag anchor of having all your dead ancestors hanging about to give you their advice and opinions - imagine if your 19th-century umpty-great-grandparents were still around! My 20th-century grandparents were bad enough.

It’s not quite so bad as it could be if the dead could actually learn and rule, or if they were ruled by immortal elves (I’m with Pratchett on this: elves are terrific). But it’s still pretty bad.

Secondly, where is this society getting its supply of human souls? Brass automata powered by human ghosts wear out, zombies wear out even faster and smell bad while they’re doing it, and skeletons don’t really work when all the connective tissues have worn away. Sure, humans are a renewable resource and you can make up some small number by turning your dead humans into immortal labourers, but your undead labour force vastly outnumbers your living citizenry. You need more souls than that.

I’m going to skip over the historical solution arrived at in the IRL American South, which might *very* charitably be called a “captive breeding program”, because I may be making a society of necromancers with a labour force running on human souls but I do have some standards. So we’ll go to option number two; invade places, kill the people living there, and take their souls. This is … honestly not better, morally speaking, but it squicks me out less.

It’s possible that, if the dead can’t learn, is a dead captive actually loyal to their new necromancer overlords? If they speak another language, can they even understand their new necromancer overlords? Presumably there’s some degree of coercion a necromancer can apply. Or possibly the vast underclass of the dead is due to the fact that human souls, unlike living slaves, don’t die. No matter how small the generations, if everyone’s soul is shoved into a jar upon death, the dead will eventually outnumber the living.

… this society probably had a much healthier ratio of living to undead people in it, before the necromancers took power and their economic system incentivised the further exploitation of necromancy. The number of living people in it is probably shrinking, not just in proportion with the ever-growing ranks of the undead, but in actual numerical terms.

So now I have a small, shrinking aristocratic upper class living lives of luxury, a slightly larger middle class of artisans and support staff (does having a living human butler become a status symbol? “I’m so rich, I can afford to have actual humans do my menial labour”?) … and a vast workforce of undead.

Thirdly, the undead. How do they work? I’d been thinking “you take the soul of a (dying? dead?) person and shove it in a jar”. The jar need not necessarily be a jar; stick it in a sword and now you’ve got a possessed sword with all the knowledge and skill of a dead swordmaster. Possibly there’s also some degree of possession of the *wielder*, to take advantage of the swordmaster’s reflexes and skill; otherwise you’ve just got a sword-shaped training program.

You could take the soul of a dead person and shove it in their dead body, but this isn’t resurrection; I imagine zombies aren’t very useful after a while. Even if you mummify them they’re still subject to breakage and wear and tear. If instead you stick them in some kind of properly designed automaton with actual joints they’ll last much longer and smell much nicer.

… You could use them to make power armour. You could use them to make a *mecha*. How many human souls do you need to voltron together to power a jaeger? I don’t know but I do know it’s very cool so I’ll allow it.

… You could also take the soul of a dead person and shove it in the lobotomised or brain dead body of a living person. Which is pretty ick but allows for recurring antagonists! And is slightly less horrible than the implications of the sword idea above; you could take the soul of a dead person and shove it in the still functioning and actually thinking brain of a living person, The Locked Tomb Lyctor style. One flesh, one end! … slightly less effective than a Lyctor, since the dead here are incapable of learning, but if you need who that dead person was more than you need who the living human might become … you’re probably still better off sticking their ghost in an automaton, unless them being made of meat is important to you for no-doubt disgusting fleshy reasons.

Fourthly, aesthetics. This is a society with a bunch of aristocrats who presumably care about showing off and a vast labour force that doesn’t need to stop to eat, sleep, or breathe. You can’t work them to death because they’re already dead. You want pyramids? Ziggurats? Vast palaces? That’s easy. Everything is probably insanely decorated, too, every surface covered in bas-relief sculpture, every fabric minutely embroidered. Massive swathes of lace (In many ways this mirrors the extravagance available through mechanisation, except *skilled artisans are free too*). They make the rococo look rustic. Want a new style? You need a living human to come up with it, and then you need to kill that human and stuff their soul in a jar to work for you forever.

Foreign luxury goods are probably a major import item, insofar as this society does much trade, which they probably don’t. Exports are probably things that require a lot of labour, such as cloth. Worked metal, too - making oodles of automata implies some ability to manufacture metal at scale. Again, this is somewhat similar to the products of mechanisation, except there’s no growth of the middle class happening here.

Fifth, politics. This is a society ruled by a small aristocratic upper class, which means political decisions are going to be made only slightly on objective realpolitik and more on the feelings of the aristocrats in question. Probably even more so than in real world aristocracies because they don’t need to pay their armies or convince their soldiers to fight. See, oh, just about every aristocracy ever for real world examples of how spoilt rich kids make the fact that daddy never loved them everybody else’s problem. Or just look at society today, whichever you find less depressing.

Ultimately I think these people and their robot zombie armies will make excellent antagonists for some plucky band of heroes. Just as soon as I come up with them.

[makingshortstorieslong]

trying to pack up all my everything for while I’m living out of the country for an unknown number of years. in case my parents move and also so even if they don’t they can use this space that was my room. good idea. but anyway I am experience so many emotions

I just did this too when I “moved out” for college and there was that whole “misunderstanding” where my mom like. Semi accidentally kicked me out? that was so weird but anyway I took Literally Everything to my college apartment. Only to move it back in two years later. And anyway I cut down on some shit then but I acquired more shit since (thanks to getting stuff from when my grandparents moved in with my aunt) and anyway now I have to put everything I own into bins and I keep going back and forth between so tempted to toss so much out - I don’t care about this lamp or this clipboard or this cookbook or this stapler I can replace it - and keeping like. My recorder music book from fourth grade. The cup I’ve kept my pencils in since I was. Six? Five? That I decorated with silly foam. An Italian-English dictionary. A Spanish-English dictionary. An English dictionary.

anyway the truth is my mom bought a lot of these plastic bins and I just need to fill them carefully up with stuff and it’s fine if that stuff is nostalgic miscellany or if it’s ultimately useless that’s for me to worry about eventually if I’m ever like. Not bouncing around from place to place renting forever. Or even if I am so long as that bouncing around is back here in the US

also shoot did I put the Italian English dictionary in the goodwill bin I actually really want that. I’ve never learned Italian.

I swear I’m not that attached to stuff and like I don’t collect things (well I do now collect postcards but like. they don’t take up a lot of stuff) but once I have something I fucking keep it. I stuck Harold (the plastic skeleton) and Isolde (the fake spider) in the goodwill bin too

(the goodwill bin I mention is still in my room. I can retrieve these things. I think I’ve sold myself on keeping the dictionary. I might… see if I can bequeath Harry and Isolde to a good home.)

(This would all be much better if I could give my random beloved crap to people personally rather than sending it to a second hand shop. Like when I got rid of most of my YA books I gave them to a 12 year old I knew. And right now I am giving some books to friends at least. But again some of this stuff is like. A broken jewelry box. My kindergarten music class glockenspiel that’s missing the smallest … bar? key? note? noise making metal thingy.)

(Speaking of which can I interest anyone in a copy of Moby-Dick? It turns out I had two. I’m keeping the one I originally read it in, I plan to read that book again multiple times in my life, but I really don’t need two. It doesn’t have a cool cover or anything but it is a nice hardcover book)

[dungeonsandblorbos]

Campaign Intros: The Amazonomachy

the Amazonomachy is the sequel campaign to the Orphic Uprising, set in the same world and following (most of) the same characters. it lasted a whole 27 sessions over three quarters of college, and by this point my notetaking abilities have significantly improved since my first campaign 😂

so story times from the Amazonomachy will also be full stories with real context--unless sharing them without context is funnier, of course. this campaign also has art! several of the players are artists and made both silly little doodles and beautiful/adorable serious pieces based on the characters and events of this campaign, so sometimes the story times will include art or even might just be art by itself too!

~anyway~

the setting

same as last time. it's just the Percy Jackson universe, post-canon! that's it. nothing fancy.

if you're not familiar, the basic conceit of the world is that the ancient Greek gods are real, actually (as are most/all other pantheons--yes it does get very confusing), and still having demi-god kids with mortals. otherwise it's just like the real world! there's a camp in New York, USA, called Camp Half-Blood, which is a safe haven for demi-god youth, who are often targeted by monsters. the gate to the Underworld is in LA, the minotaur's labyrinth is under the streets of NYC, you get it

the party Confusion Crew

Nina "Larry" Grayson: my PC! you know her, you met her here and in the Orphic Uprising intro. a Chinese-American daughter of Nike, goddess of Victory and companion of Athena. headstrong himbo who isn't afraid to make incredibly dumb choices if she thinks it might at all help her friends. kind of a loner until Beatrice and Chuck showed up in her life and forcibly befriended her last year. acquires a pegasus and names her Nightwing, after her favorite comic book character. during the campaign, she pretends to betray her friends and ally herself with the Amazons, but actually she's trying to spy on and sabotage their efforts. in the process, she accidentally makes new friends. might become Queen of the Amazons?

Chuck Hickey: my husband's PC! an Italian-American son of Dionysus, god of wine and revelry. raised by his Italian grandparents on their vineyard in Napa Valley, California (wine country). funny and not very responsible, but good people and an excellent battle strategist nonetheless. since facing death head on in the last campaign, he's grown a lot more impulsive and wild, leaning ever more towards the chaotic side of his godly heritage. has some magical powers, which enable him to, among other things, beat people up with plants and turn into a fire-breathing leopard. throughout this campaign and the last one, he's collected a long list of epithets; highlights include He Who Barks at Skeletons, Devourer of Minotaurs, and the Knee-Breaker

Beatrice Starveling: an African-American daughter of Apollo, god of the sun and poetry. raised by her two gay dads who are very worried about her. an incredibly talented musical theatre kid. creative and kind but also very tired, so much so that Chuck might be the smart one this time around, which is . . . concerning. she also has some magic powers, which allow her to, among other things, empower her friends to hit harder and glow like a second sun. last campaign, she pulled an Orpheus but actually succeeded, saving her dear friend Oliver from the Underworld with music from Hadestown. this time, she just wants to go home

Bryce: a newcomer to camp and son of Eros, god of love/uh, lust. all the urban white boy energy; wannabe f-boi but doesn't have quite enough game to pull it off. he's kind of an idiot and only sometimes good at flirting but he's really trying, y'all. he's trying so hard. and he cares so much. it's very endearing. knows a bit about medicine because his mom was a nurse. an archer. don't worry; unlike our last archer, he's actually cool (shh don't tell him i said that it'll give him an ego). has the biggest bromance with Murph. also sometimes he has little tiny cherub wings!

Cameron "Murph" Murphy: a newcomer to camp and son of Epimetheus, titan and embodiment of afterthought. in other words, a gullible chaos magnet who makes more dumb choices than Nina, which is saying something! had a running gag about accidentally getting involved in crazy things, like drug dealing and MLMs. tall strong California surfer bro (white). has the biggest bromance with Bryce. like seriously, they're inseparable. he's Bryce's forever third wheel but no one involved cares

important NPCs

Mo Flores: a Mexican-American daughter of Demeter, who naturally grew up on a farm. a counselor at Camp Half-Blood, and secret Amazon. she's also not so secretly a lesbian. Nina has a huge crush on her at the start of this campaign, and it seems to be mutual--at least, until it's revealed that Mo is really into the Amazons' "kill all the gods" plan because she feels personally wronged by them, at which point Nina cannot justify her crush any longer. still, except for the attempted deicide, she's pretty a cool person and an accomplished warrior

Adella: the new Queen of the Amazons, after deposing the old queen. has grand ideas about killing the gods and replacing them--after all, they overthrew the titans who overthrew their parents, so really it's just perpetuating an already existing cycle! kind of full of herself, obviously

Quinn: an Amazon and daughter of Hecate who knows some magic. one of Adella's most trusted lieutenants. serious, smart, and wary, she slowly warms up to Nina and they end up becoming pretty close. she's very hurt by Nina's reveal that she's been a double agent the whole time, but she eventually comes around to realizing that Adella's idea to kill the gods was stupid, actually, and would do a lot more harm than good. at the conclusion of the campaign, she's one of the Amazons who backs Nina's claim to the throne

Fiona: an Amazon who seems kinda into Bryce after he lays a few charmingly bad pickup lines on her. bubbly and blonde, but still an accomplished archer. at the conclusion of the campaign, she's one of the Amazons who backs Nina's claim to the throne

Oliver: Beatrice's . . . boyfriend? a son of Hermes and talented artist. friendly and sweet but also does a lot of sassing. only a little scarred from dying and then being brought back to life by Beatrice

Hops: our lovely little grain demon! we found him dumpster diving for beer at an old hotel and immediately adopted him. he looks like an ugly little baby made out of dirt and roots, and speaks in gibberish (otherwise known as chipmunk-pitched old german). sometimes Chuck carries him around in a papoose. other times, Chuck throws him like a football at an enemy and with their combined powers, they make Hops's roots grow really long and wrap around the enemy like a cage

~misc gods and goddesses and PJO characters~

the plot . . . hook

it's about year after the events of the last campaign, and the Amazons are coming to visit Camp Half-Blood . . . and while visiting, they attack the place. not very nice of them!

turns out, their new Queen Adella thinks that it's high time humans overthrew the gods, and is on a fetch quest to gather a bunch of items that will help her kill them. so our intrepid party goes out to beat them to the punch and get those items first!

and when they fail to do that, well, they can still stop Adella from becoming a new god and killing the old ones . . . right?

[muraque]

What are their hidden feelings

PILE 1

They wish if there weren’t any obstacles between you two in the past. They solely wish to be your person atleast have some healthy relationship with you. This relationship has ended or somehow is in no-contact situation and it has happened abruptly. Something about you and this person has deep feelings for each other but they didn’t want to risk everything to make this relationship work. Probably from your side your parents/ or someone has been controlling of your life and your choices and you really wanted to run away. You were struggling to keep the healthy pace going even if it was bare minimum for people to get into relationship. This person really wanted to hug you back if you’ve ever done that before. And say all those words of affirmations & love back to you. But they knew things were going not as you guys have expected so they decided to pull back a little and give you the space and time for you to heal or manage your own situation. But it felt like this person has left you or damaged you in some way that you feel sense of hurt when you think about this person. Their hidden feelings are regret and how much they’ve have wasted the opportunities that you guys were able to have even though there were things going between you two. Now they can’t turn back time so they just watch you from afar and accept the sad fact that it is over . They really had feelings for you , they wanted to be protective and only one you would actually open up with, cry with or just be comfortable with 

https://genius.com/Keshi-goes-to-waste-lyrics

God, save her

Save me from myself

We're closer

Close to no one else

When you lose something you can’t replace

When you love someone, but it goes to waste

Anime : Hige wo Soru. Soshite Joshikousei wo Hirou / Episode 9 : Past

PILE 2 

Their hidden feelings are all about their pure deep down feelings of how they really are without you. Maybe your relationship with this person isn’t any normal relationship that people have. You guys have different values, interest and even different way to react to each other’s words. You kinda get on each other’s nerves and fight a lot on little things without communicating throughly. But you know you guys are cool with that because that’s how life is. This person really cannot go a day without you. They are lonely and they feel like naked skeleton thrown away in the cemetery without you. Sounds exaggerating  but it’s true this person wants to spend their life-time having fights about (if eggs were there first or the chicken were there first) , and they only do kid like activities with you because they know how much you love it, and they do it even if they seem uninterested in the first place. Inside they really love you, while you are asleep or when you are doing your own work this person thinks that you are theirs and admire you from afar. I feel so much tsundere vibe from them seriously, but however if you guys would get to marry i see you guys being the most fun grandparents that children would ever wish to have. 

https://genius.com/Keshi-skeletons-lyrics

Give a fuck about what they say

I gotta disagree

This ain't really fun for me(maybe how you;ve guys grown up is kinda different from your family, maybe you guys feel so different from others, their view and their judgement doesn’t align with you guys in your relationship)

Feel bad, go to bed

Wake up even worse, yeah

So sad, in my head

Feelin' like a curse

I need medicine, medicine, medicine (you are their medicine xd)

Anime : Wotakoi: Love is Hard for Otaku / Episode 4 : Is mature love difficult?

PILE 3 

This person’s hidden feelings are that they have been through lots of hardships in life and they really depend on you. They seem emotionally closed off and doesn’t socialize a lot with others even though they are surrounded with lots of friends and seem popular in their area. They have this downside to them where they cannot express the real emotions they feel inside and live in the moment because they keep limiting theirselves of how they act and behave. And when they see you, they have sense of freshness and free; independent energy from you. You are just so full of life, when they look at your eyes, it sparkles like moon so they cannot take their eyes of you. They actually open up to you a lot. If they were to be sad or emotionally stressed about something they’ll go to you and talk if their friend has faced those kind of things but in reality you know it’s them and you always know what to say. This person love that about you. Which you always open their eyes to the truth even if it was harsh they just cannot stop it. And maybe from what i see is that you are in a long distance relationship with this person, and this person misses you a lot, they feel like they don’t know themselves anymore the more you are in absence in their life. 

https://genius.com/Keshi-like-i-need-u-lyrics

Baby, I call in the dead of night

But you don't need me like I need you

Pray that I won't be alone

Baby, I call in the dead of night

But you don't need me like I need you

Pray that I won't be alone

Anime : Ao Haru Ride / Episode 11 

[beananacake]

Snapshot (Richard Madden x Reader)

Part 5

Summary: Your story time Twitter thread of how your grandparents thought you were dating Richard Madden becomes viral and you get the chance to meet the man himself.

Chapter Summary: An important question is asked.

Word Count: 11.4k words

Warnings: usage of the word fuck and shit (a lot), drinking(?), ANGST, mentions of cheating, implied smut, whirlwind of emotions if im being v honest (pls don't hurt me)

A/N 1: Helloooooo! HERE WE ARE. THE END OF AN ERA. I'll see you in A/N 2 after the story! Again, reviews, comments, suggestions, requests (and reblogs) are welcome and accepted and very much appreciated. ASK ME ANYTHING in my ask box. Not beta'd (we're so used to it not being beta'd anyway) Now, get your tissues and your popcorn and let's crack on! Part 5, everybody!

Bonus Content 1 | Bonus Content 2 | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | One Shot 1 | Part 5 | One Shot 2 | Headcanon 1 | One Shot 3 | Headcanon 2

2 years after

Something was wrong.

Or, at least you thought something was wrong.

You had moved in with Richard 2 years ago when you went home from your parents’ vow renewal and had been staying in his place ever since. He had given you free rein over his space; telling you to do whatever it was you wanted to do to make it homier to you and you wasted no time in filling it with your books and photos of the two of you. You tried to keep it at a minimal since his house was already exceptionally decorated and, to be honest, it was fitting your style. You never thought you’d be back to living in another huge house again after being in your apartment for a while but you did not mind it this time. Richard only had a skeleton staff for maintaining the house if the both of you couldn’t. If you were home, however, you divided the chores. You shared housekeeping duties and kitchen duties. You took it to yourself to do the laundry after he mistakenly put in one of your red shirts with his white button downs and ended up with a load of pink-colored clothing when it was done. But still, you two had moved like a well-oiled machine.

Like an old married couple more like.

And that was where it all began.

It was mentioned once in passing by his best friend Taron during Richard’s surprise birthday a few months ago and you noticed the way Richard had gotten quiet after it. It soured his mood throughout the night and you did your best to lighten it, telling Taron to stop teasing him or he’ll run away from you. Looking back at it, it was the wrong thing to say because since then, he had been more careful around you. He still acted like how he did before but it was more subdued, in a way. In return, you didn’t watch anything relating to proposals or weddings or marriages whenever he was around, in case that made him uncomfortable again.

“Love, I’m home.”

You were sat on the barstool in the kitchen, reading the latest newsletter from your organization on your tablet when you felt arms wrap around your waist and his lips nuzzling your neck. You smiled and reached behind you, grasping at his hair and extending your neck to the side so he can have a kiss on your shoulder.

“Hey, handsome. How did the shoot go today?”

He rested his chin on your shoulder. “Just like any other day. We’re finishing up tomorrow, though.”

You turned in his arms to look at him, smiling. “That’s great. You can finally take a rest. I know a spa where we can go. I heard their back massages are great.”

“Yeah… About that.”

You looked at him. His eyes were everywhere but on yours. You touched his cheek, turning his face to yours.

“Love. If you don’t want to go to a spa and just stay here at home, we can do that. I’ll claim some of my days off so we can do it together.” You smiled softly at him, feeling his growing stubble on the pads of you fingers.

He turned his head sideways to kiss your palm. “It’s not that, love.” He rested his cheek against your hand again. “I’m actually flying back to London for a while.”

“Okay. When are we leaving and how long?”

“Just me this time.”

Oh.

“Oh.” You tried not to sound disappointed but you failed.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you when I get back.” He pulled you closer to him now and kissed you deeply before pulling back. “Okay?”

You only nodded, dazed. “Yeah, okay,” you said weakly. You put your arms around his neck loosely and you just watched him. “Why can’t I come?”

“I might be there for a while. I know you can’t leave your job for months.”

“Months?” You were used to him leaving for months on end to film on location across the world but that was before things got a bit awry between the two of you. And London was where he was originally based before he permanently moved to California to be with you.

He pulled away from you completely now, walking over to the kitchen. “Yeah. I have some stuff to do in London and I don’t think I’ll have it all done in under a month. Do you want to get take out, love? I forgot to tell the housekeeper to get us some groceries before I left this morning.”

You shook your head, getting down from the stool and pulling out the binder of takeout menus from the drawer. “What do you want to eat?”

“How does Chinese food sound to you?”

You gave a half-smile. “You know I love Chinese food. Are we getting the usual?” You flipped on the page for the restaurant menu and took out your phone.

“Please. I’m going to go take a shower. I’ll be back in a bit, love.” He kissed your cheek before leaving you to order the food.

You placed your usual orders and went back to your tablet to continue reading your newsletter. You were absentmindedly scrolling through it before closing the app and headed to your bedroom. Richard was in the shower and you went to the closet to pick out a fresh shirt and pajamas for him and laid it on the bed. You went to your side of the closet, picking out your uniform for tomorrow.

Months. He’d be gone for months. You had asked his assistant for his schedule for the following week and they hadn’t mentioned anything of him going to London. If they did, you would have booked the ticket yourself. All the assistant said was that Richard had a big chunk of time-off until his next project. It was something that didn’t require him to travel out of the country and if it did, you would still be informed because that was what you two had agreed on.

Was he getting tired of me? You thought to yourself as you sorted out your scrub tops. You had basically taken over his life when you moved in. You started small; buying a binder and putting all of the restaurant menus in it so it was easier for you instead of grabbing whatever paper you could find in a drawer to rearranging the cleaning materials under the sink so the frequently used ones were up front and the rarely used ones were at the back. Then you moved to doing and folding the laundry. You’ve developed a system of sorting and keeping clothes that actually made his assistant and his stylist tear up at the sight of it (color-coded, by material, casuals at the front, formal and business ones were kept in another separate closet, et cetera). Then, you told him of how much you loved doing household chores that you had him agree to share it with you, even if it meant only doing it on your days off.

Oh, my god. I overstepped it, you thought with horror. You only wanted to be closer to him, to know him better but you ended up being more than he bargained for and three years in a relationship was definitely enough time for him to realize that you were too much for him.

“Love? What are you doing there on the floor?”

You hadn’t realized you’ve sat on the floor from all of the thoughts rushing through your head. You looked up at him, hands still clutching your scrub top. He was smiling down at you, amused, unknowing of your inner turmoil and the impending sense of a possible break-up you were about to face. Beads of water dripped from his hair trailed down to his hairy chest and you followed it absently.

“Y—your,” you cleared your throat and shook your head, turning away from him. “I picked out your shirt and your pajamas, love. They’re on the bed.”

“You need help standing up, love?”

“No, I’m fine. I’m just picking out my scrubs for tomorrow.” You gave him a wan smile and went back on rearranging your clothes.

“Okay?” He seemed unsure but he didn’t press further.

“Do you want me to help you pack your suitcase?” You asked and cringed. There you were again, taking over his life.

“How about we do it after dinner? You must be tired from work too.”

You only nodded and went back to your task, absentmindedly just unfolding and refolding your clothes. You needed to stop taking over his life. He had a mother, albeit in another continent, and he didn’t need another one here. You were his girlfriend. You had to start acting like it.

When you went down to the kitchen after trying to cool your head, you found Richard setting up your food in the den. He had on your favorite show playing on the TV and the food splayed out on the coffee table. He was pouring juice in another glass when he saw you.

“Thought you were gonna leave me to have dinner by myself.” He joked with his boyish smile.

Leave. You would never leave him unless he left you first.

You gave a tight-lipped smile and sat on the couch, holding close to you the first take out container you got your hands on.

“I’m really sorry I had to go alone, Y/N.” Richard sat beside you and passed you your chopsticks.

“It’s okay,” you mumbled, breaking apart the bamboo utensils. “I understand.”

“I’ll try to call you everyday, though, so you won’t miss me too much.” He kissed your cheek and started eating.

Your thoughts were miserable up until you drove him to the airport the day he was leaving. He had talked to you throughout the drive, telling you that he would be taking you up to that offer of a spa day you had mentioned a day before and another vacation just for the two of you because you had been working so hard. You only replied with hmms and ahhs, telling him you were trying to avoid the traffic, when in fact, you were just trying to avoid the topic.

“Y/N?”

You only looked at Richard when you arrived at the airport. “Yes, love?”

“You’ve been distant for the last couple of days. What’s wrong?” He cupped your cheek, watching you quietly. “I know I didn’t forget our anniversary.”

You touched his hand. “No. Our anniversary was last week. You didn’t forget.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

You chewed the inside of your cheek. “Nothing’s wrong, Richard. I’m just tired from work. They’re training me to do more.”

“You should’ve let me drive if you were tired.” He rubbed his thumb on your cheek. “You’re already doing so much for me.”

Shit. Shit. Even he noticed you were doing more than what was expected of you.

You swallowed and pulled away. “Let’s go? You’ll be late.”

You jumped out of the car and closed the door a little too loudly. You opened the trunk, about the pull out his suitcase when he came and did it for you. You looked at him with a small smile and closed the hatch. You grabbed his carry-on from the backseat.

Richard grabbed your hand in his as he wheeled his suitcase to the entrance. He turned to you and took his carry-on from your shoulder. “Are you going to be okay while I’m away?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I’m used to you being away for months, love. It’s nothing new,” you lied. Even to your ears, it wasn’t convincing.

He only nodded and kissed you deeply in the middle of the busy airport. You wrapped your arms around his neck, going on your tip toes and crushing yourself against him. This kiss felt final to you. It felt too deep and too much. The emotions—your emotions—were on an all-time high since you’ve felt that impending doom of another broken relationship that even this simple kiss felt like he was saying good bye for good.

You pulled away and felt his thumb swipe under your eyes, catching your tears. You hadn’t realized you started crying.

“Y/N, you’re making it so hard for me to leave,” he whispered as he wiped more of your tears.

Then don’t leave. Stay. I promise I’m not going to step over your boundaries or act more than I should, you wanted to shout but you only ended up crying again.

He hugged you to him, holding your head to his chest and rubbed at your back. He shushed at you soothingly, murmuring sweet words while swaying you side to side. You clutched at his shirt and cried it all out, breathing in his familiar scent of musk and sandalwood. When you pulled away, he looked at your face and wiped the tear tracks on your cheeks.

“I’m sorry I ruined your shirt.” You said pathetically. “I packed an extra one in your carry-on in case you needed to change mid-flight. I should’ve packed another.”

“It’s okay, love. It’s just a shirt.” He smiled softly at you and dropped a kiss on your forehead. “You’ll be okay?”

You nodded.

“I’ll give you a call as soon as I land.”

You shook your head. “It’s a long flight. You go take a rest before you call me. I’ll understand.”

He cupped your cheek, turning your face to him and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Richard. So much.”

You held back your tears as you watched your boyfriend join the throng of people towards the airport. It was only when you got inside the car and had started the engine that you broke down.

…

It had been three weeks since Richard had left and every day you had grown more despondent in his absence. He had been calling you like he promised but you just weren’t up for it. You replied when appropriate and that seemed enough for him. At home, you tried so hard to keep yourself from doing more things that would bother him. You’ve avoided touching his scripts inside his office, hadn’t cleared out his desk of his notes like you did before when you put them in their own folders and stuck on a sticky note of which notes went with which script, and overall just didn’t add more to his house that screamed you. In fact, if someone were outside looking in to your life, they’d think you were slowly erasing traces of yourself in the house you shared with your boyfriend.

“Y/N. Hey.”

You looked up and found Gina sitting beside you in your cubicle. You and her had become best of friends as soon as Candace left the laboratory. It turned out that she had been poisoning Gina’s mind with her jealousy of you for years. It didn’t matter to you anymore, anyway. Candace was long gone; you weren’t going to see her again and Gina had earned her place as your best friend.

“Gina. Do you need something?”

“Let’s have dinner out. You’ve been in a bad mood since Richard left.”

You were ready to say no when Gina shook her head at you. “Nuh-uh. I’m not going to let you wallow alone inside that big house of yours.”

“It’s not even my house,” you countered weakly.

“Y/N, you’ve been in a relationship with Richard for 3 years, had moved in with him for two. I’m pretty sure that house is conjugal property now.”

“Please don’t say that word.” You turned to your microscope again, turning it on and randomly looking at the blood cells on the slide.

“What? House?”

“No. Conjugal.”

“Oh, shit. What’s wrong?”

You bit your lower lip and tried to tune her out. You didn’t want to talk your relationship woes to one of your best friends.

“Y/N, I’ve just released the result for that patient. I know you’re not looking at anything.” Gina said matter-of-factly. “Shit, we’re going to a bar and you’re going to tell me all about it.”

You turned off your microscope and turned to her, eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I think he’s growing tired of me.”

Gina only raised her eyebrow and then raised a finger as if to say hold that thought. She left you for a few minutes before coming back and giving you a cup of water.

“I asked the boss if I could cash in a favor. We’re getting the day off tomorrow.” She passed you the cup. “Don’t worry about your training. It’s all formality. Everyone knows this department’s really for you.”

“Thanks,” you said and drank the water in one gulp.

“I’m going to be shameless in asking for this but we’re going to drink at your and Richard’s place,” she said, throwing emphasis on your boyfriend’s name, “so we can safely talk about what’s going on, okay?”

You nodded. “Okay.”

“I’ll leave you for a bit. I’ll go do some work. I’ll come back when we’re ready to go.” She touched your shoulder. “Trust me when I say this, Y/N, Richard loves you. I’m actually fucking jealous of the both of you.”

You snorted and turned away. “There’s nothing to be jealous of.”

She just sighed and went. The last hour of your shift came and you occupied yourself with your work, going through all of the slides like your life depended on it. You weren’t ready to face the issue with Gina. You were scared that whatever you were feeling would turn out to be right. What if Richard was actually going to leave you? What if he was just setting himself up again in London because he wanted to go back there, far far away from you? What if… you were the only one who loved in this relationship?

You verified the last of the results, packing the important slides away for the hematologist’s viewing and keeping the rest with the others in their specialized cupboard. Gina was a godsend for asking your boss for a day off. You knew you needed one but being alone inside the house felt suffocating. With Gina there, it would be bearable.

“You ready to go?” Gina appeared on your cubicle entrance. “I placed an order for lots of booze so be prepared to get really hammered tonight.”

“I hope you got food too.” You stood from your seat and closed the lights to your workplace and went out.

“I found a nice Korean chicken place. Placed two orders of the bestseller.”

Korean chicken. Not remotely close to Korean barbeque but dear God, was this a sign? Was everything going to come crashing down on you?

You arrived home bringing all of the food and alcoholic drinks one can imagine. There were only the two of you and you had enough food to feed the staff of the house. You told Gina as much, who said you could give the other order of the chicken away and maybe a couple cans of the beer. The staff thanked you and the housekeeper assured you that you didn’t need to clean up after yourselves as she would be staying over to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself while drunk. If that was Richard’s request or just your housekeeper’s own volition, you still smiled and thanked her.

Now in your comfy house clothes—Richard’s old shirt and your flannel shorts—you poured a hearty amount of beer into your glass.

“Whoa. Relax. We have the whole night,” Gina said.

You didn’t mind her and drank the contents of your glass in one fell swoop. You made a face as you belched, a sight that would have had your mother swoon, and refilled your glass once more.

“Y/N.”

You looked at your best friend and sighed. You tried prolonging the talk but nothing got past Gina. And surely, she was worried about you.

“I said drink and talk, not just get drunk. You have to start talking at some point.”

You put your glass down and heaved a long sigh. “Like I said, I think he’s growing tired of me.”

“Now when did that happen?”

“I don’t know but he’s been pretty distant with me for a while. Now that I know when it happened.”

She hummed as she got comfortable in her seat.

“I threw Richard a surprise birthday party a few months back and invited all of his friends who were here. Taron—you know Taron, right? Taron Egerton? Taron was there and he joked about us moving like we’re some old married couple.”

“I don’t see how that’s a bad thing? I thought that’s supposed to be a good thing?” Gina took to the food as she watched you. “Don’t all people in a relationship wish they were like an old married couple?”

You shrugged and played with the hem of your shirt. “I guess? But it dampened his mood. Taron teased him throughout the night about it and I felt bad because it was his birthday and I invited Taron so I told him to stop teasing or Richard would run away from me as a joke. I guess he took it to heart.”

“Y/N…”

“I asked his assistant about his schedule so I can get us a spa day. He’s been working too hard and I just want to do something nice for him. Gina, he didn’t have anything at all for months on end. He just decided he wanted to go to London without me.”

“You know he can do that, right?”

Now that she put it that way, you felt stupid. Of course, he could. He wasn’t an extension of you in the first place; he was his own person.

“But I get where you’re coming from, Y/N.”

“You do?” you asked in a small voice.

“Yeah. I always overhear you two tell each other about where you’re going and who you’re going with. If I’m being honest, at first I thought it was him or you being controlling of each other but I realized that was how you two were. You always checked up on each other from time to time, him especially since you know he’s only shooting a movie or a show.”

You nodded. Gina may have been a new best friend but she understood you.

“So that’s the only reason why you think he’s grown tired of you?”

You took a bite of your chicken. “I think I also overstepped his boundaries.”

“You need to elaborate on that, Y/N. I’m no mind reader.”

“I’ve been too comfortable staying here. I’ve imposed on rules and made changes and did some things and he just said yes to everything. I didn’t even ask, Gina. I just did. I’m not even sure if he wanted those changes done.”

You watched your friend drink her alcohol. “He let you, didn’t he?” You nodded. “I think that’s him saying yes.”

“I took over his life.” You plopped down on the length of the sofa and looked up at the ceiling. “I took over his life the moment I met him.”

“Y/N, honey, I love you and I’m saying this from the bottom of my heart but I think you’re overthinking things.”

“Gina, have you seen my tweets?” You sat up and looked at her. “Have you seen the shit I wrote there? It was all just fun before and now, looking back at all of it, I forced myself to be in a relationship with him.”

You brought out your phone and opened the app, showing her the tweet you posted. “I literally, basically, forcefully put it out to the world that I wanted to be Richard’s girlfriend.”

Gina read your tweet and looked at you wryly. “Did you intend for this to happen?”

“No but—”

“Did you expect Richard’s publicist to call you?”

“No—”

“Were you just having fun when you posted this?”

“Yes but—”

“Y/N, no buts. Stop it. This is not you forcing your way to be Richard’s girlfriend. He said he likes you, right? He said I love you to you and you said I love you to him. He asked you to be his girlfriend, you said yes. End of discussion.”

“Gina—”

Your best friend huffed. She poured beer into your glass and passed it to you. “Let’s get drunk, Y/N. The more you talk, the more you overthink.”

You took the drink from her and downed it. You liked Gina’s idea more than you cared to admit.

…

The incessant ringing of your phone bounced inside your head like multiple tingling bells. Dissonant chimes, not even the melodious ones. Like a police siren. An ambulance. A barbershop bell that signaled a new customer. A Santa Claus impersonator incessantly ringing his obnoxiously loud bell for charity. A fucking fire alarm. All of that in one ring tone from your phone. Sweet Jesus.

You were sprawled on the couch, lying on your stomach with your head mashed against the arm and your left foot dangling on the edge. You remembered putting your phone on the coffee table and reached for it blindly, toppling cans and wine corks and vodka bottle caps. You had never been this drunk before in your life—okay, maybe once, when you were still a university student when your thesis got approved after working on it for so long—and every little thing that made a sound echoed in your head hundred-fold.

You took your phone, not bothering to see who was calling and pressed answer.

“Mmm—what?” you mumbled as much as you could without moving your head.

“Y/N? I’m sorry I wasn’t able to call you last night. I was out—”

“Shhhhh! Stop talking!” You thought that was what you sounded because Richard only let out a confused “Huh?”

“Are you drunk? Where are you?”

“Stop talking!” You slurred. “Shut up. Shut up. Shut uuuuuup.”

“What’s wrong, love? Why are you drunk? You didn’t pass the evalu—”

“Shh!” You opened your eye and looked at the time, groaning. “It’s so fucking early, Richard. Let me be.”

“Call the housekeeper, okay? And don’t drive to work drunk or hungover.”

“Not working today.” You pressed your face on the arm of the couch. “Bye-bye.”

“Love—”

You pressed end on the call and stuffed it under the foam, snuggling yourself further on the couch and sleeping. When you woke up hours later, Gina was sitting up on the loveseat, her eyes bleary. The banging inside your head was almost gone, a couple tablets of aspirin should make it completely go away.

“Where the fuck are we?” Gina asked as she rubbed on her eyes.

You blinked once, twice, before looking around. Your mess from the previous night had been cleared away and before you two, on the coffee table, were glasses of water and a bottle of aspirin. You silently thanked the housekeeper and popped on two pills, gulping down the water. You looked at the clock, noting the time.

“We’re at home,” you said as you closed your eyes again. “And I think it should be lunch time.”

“You know, Y/N, I never really pegged you for someone to likely get drunk from a broken heart or something.”

You slid down on the couch again, throwing your arm across your eyes. “I never drank like this when I broke up with Jason and I was with him for close to five years.”

She snorted. You heard rustling from her side and peeked from your arm.

“Did you love him at all?”

You heard the fridge open and you sat up, hooking your arm on the back of the couch. “Who, Jason?”

“Yeah.”

“What are you looking for in the fridge?” you asked instead, standing up.

“Leftovers?”

“Bottom right, beside the canned drinks.” You stretched and shook your hands, trying to get some sensation back in them. “I… think I did. I probably did or else we wouldn’t have lasted five years.”

“Do you even have leftovers in this house?”

“Shit. I think I ate it yesterday for lunch. Scoot. I’m going to cook.”

“Let me cook and you tell me about Jason what’s-his-face and why you didn’t cry over him or even get drunk.”

You relented, too tired and hungover to argue and sat on the barstool. “I guess I did love him as much as I could in that relationship.”

“But?”

“But I saw the signs that the relationship was coming to an end.”

“Y/N, Red Bull gives us wings, not the ability to read someone’s fucking mind. You have to be clearer than that, honey.”

You pouted. “He had been spending less time with me. He’s always got some excuse to do something else, especially if our anniversary’s approaching. And I’ve been so trusting of him about it that I didn’t even mind it if he went home late at night or if his collar had some lipstick smudge or something—which, he told me in his defense, was because a female friend of his had been crying and he was there to comfort her and she smudged her fucking lipstick on his collar.” Fucking Jason.

“That’s a weak argument. Stupid one too.”

“In this picture, I’m the stupid one. I let it go.” You took a deep breath. “He was naturally friendly with people. He could talk someone down and make them trust him in a span of less than an hour. That was what drew me to him. Did I mention we met at a bar?”

“Bars are, like, one of the worst places to meet someone to date. Personally, I have nothing against people meeting in bars. I heard people get married, but that statistic is pretty low, like around 8 to 10 per cent, and they’ve probably had too much to drink to think straight or something. And I don’t think I’ve seen you this hammered before so I guess you were pretty sane when you met him.”

“As you can see, we didn’t get married.”

“Ergo, my point. Got any bacon?”

“Inside the fridge.” You rubbed a hand down your face. “So yeah, we met at a bar and we fell in love. Or I fell in love.”

“You never asked him?” Gina cut open a pack of bacon and placed it on the skillet. “Or has he said it any time in the five years you were together?”

“He’s said it a lot during the first year we were together. It got less since then.”

“How did you two get official? Did he just say ‘hey, you’re my girlfriend now?’ or anything like that?”

You bit your lower lip, thinking hard. Come to think of it, none of you asked. It just came to be. Jason and you just one day decided that you two were boyfriend and girlfriend and that was it.

“We just agreed on it. We were spending so much time together that we just said ‘fuck it, we’re boyfriend and girlfriend.’”

“And were you guys exclusive?”

“I know we were.”

“Except for that time he went home with smudged lipstick on his collar?”

You chewed on your lower lip. “You know, G, you can just call me stupid. I’ve pretty much accepted that part of me now.”

“Stop being melodramatic. I only asked because I want to compare Jason with Richard. From the looks of things, Jason’s too unstable, too outgoing and too—too much for you.”

“Gina…” You weren’t ready to talk about your ex-boyfriend so early after waking up.

“Hey, zip it. I’m having a best-friend-giving-advice-in-a-rom-com moment.” You watched as she flipped the bacon. “Now, tell me why you didn’t cry over him when you two broke up.”

“I don’t know.”

“Y/N, I’m literally so close to smacking you with a spatula.”

You took a deep breath and shut your eyes tight. “I fell out of love with him, okay? I didn’t feel like I was getting enough attention and that everything I did was becoming a burden to him. He made me feel like I was asking for too much even if all I wanted was for him be there for me when I needed him. That even the simple act of me trying to take care of him was too suffocating for him.”

You opened your eyes and found Gina looking at you piteously. “Y/N…”

“He forgot my birthday twice and always made excuses to skip out on our anniversary three times. When I broke down because I was too anxious for my job interview, he just told me to suck it up. He never comforted me as the years went by and I just… I thought I was overreacting most of the time. That maybe I should suck it up and be stronger than what I was showing him.” You sighed and shrugged helplessly. “I became stronger but I also became independent and I just slowly… fell out of love with him. I was too strong to cry over someone who cheated on me with my ex-best friend. It didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less. I was with him for five fucking years.”

“You know, if we met before Candace the snake told me lies about you, we would literally be the best of friends from the get-go.”

You gave a small smile. “Yeah, I know.”

“Now, don’t hate me, but I’m going to ask you questions about Richard. After all, that’s what we’re here for.”

You took a deep breath, straightened your back and nodded. Gina’s questions were basically the same as what she had asked you about Jason. You answered her truthfully, giving her knowledge of your relationship no one even knew about. You’ve told her about how he had defended you to your judgmental family and how he was instrumental in bringing all of you together. He had been your anchor when you sometimes felt you were floating away from your emotions and your problems. Richard, as you told her, was your other half in every way that mattered, and more.

“Richard supports you, cheers you on, takes time to talk to you despite his very busy schedule, never forgets an important milestone for you or the both of you and only laughs at the face of adversity because he knows you both could get through it together?”

You nodded, eating your breakfast.

“And you’re worried he’s falling out of love with you because you’ve overstepped your boundaries and,” Gina made air quotation marks. “‘Took over his life’ when in fact he’s never said anything like that at all in the three years you had both been together?”

“Wow, G, way to rub it in,” you tried sarcastically.

“Hey, I’m just repeating the things you’ve told me.” She took a bite on her bread. “So, what are you worried about? Richard’s so fucking in love with you and you with him that it makes me physically sick. And I mean that in the nicest way possible, Y/N.”

You took a bacon and nibbled on it, thinking. Maybe Gina was right. Maybe you were reading into things too much. Richard said he loved you and you said you loved him. That was it. No ifs, ands, or buts. You were just overwhelmed that your boyfriend decided to take a bit of a break to cool of his head after a very intense shoot. That was it, nothing more. Right?

“Fuck! Shit!”

You turned to Gina, who you found was looking at her phone.

“What’s wrong?”

She looked at you, alarmed before she schooled her features. “Nothing!” she trilled and cleared her throat. “N-Nothing. They changed our schedule for next week and—”

“Really? Let me see.” You grabbed her phone and stopped when you saw what was on her screen.

“Y/N—”

Trouble in paradise? Marvel leading man Richard Madden seen cozying up with former co-star Lily James. Stateside sweetheart out of the picture!

There were more pictures of them in restaurants and shops and they were both happy, smiling and laughing. You had seen that look on Richard’s face before; it was whenever you two were having fun. And very much in love, your traitorous thoughts said to yourself.

‘Richard Madden and Lily James look every bit the happy couple as the twosome exited from a romantic restaurant in London. The pair were also seen shopping in Selfridges a few days back with James holding on to a little baggie from a known jewelry store…’

You read through the article, trying to relax your breathing. You knew Lily James, had met her a couple of times before and you absolutely adored her—and also was jealous of her. There was no denying their chemistry. They were casted perfectly in Cinderella and in Romeo and Juliet and had remained close friends since. She was beautiful and smart and kind. Richard was handsome and smart and kind. And they had more similarities together than you do with your boyfriend.

You gave Gina her phone back and scrambled from your seat to the couch, inserting your hand between the foam and the frame and digging out your phone. No missed calls. No texts. Nothing. Your hands shook as you opened your call log.

“Gina?”

“Yes, Y/N?”

“C-can you please tell me what time that article was posted?” You swallowed as your thumb hovered over Richard’s name.

Gina told you the time and a lone tear fell on the screen and onto Richard’s name. The article came out before Richard’s call. He hadn’t texted or called or left anything for you at all, save for that one phone call and it was too close to the time of posting the article.

“Gina?” you said weakly.

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” you said as you threw your guts up on the floor.

...

You decided to call in sick the next day, blaming it on a stomach bug but in truth you were too emotionally exhausted because of what you’ve seen. You and Gina agreed that staying in Richard’s house was too much for you that she offered to drive you to your apartment. You managed to call your sister and she was ready to go the moment she heard you sob. She wasn’t there when you broke up with Jason, she had said, but she would be there for you now that you were having trouble with Richard.

When you opened the door and found your sister on the other side, you erupted into tears. She squeezed you tight, letting herself in your apartment and you both landed in a heap in front of your door. You cried hard that night, letting out the ugliest of wails while your sister held you close to her and soothed you. You knew she hurt just by hearing you cry but you couldn’t help the gut-wrenching sobs that came out from you.

This was it, you thought to yourself. This was the end of your relationship with the love of your life.

“Y/N? You need to eat something.” Y/S/N’s voice sounded from your kitchen.

Your tears had run dry and you felt like a hollow shell.

“Do you want a salad? Or maybe a chicken sandwich?” Your sister’s voice got closer to your ear now. “Y/N, you just can’t keep crying like this. You need to eat something too. Please.”

You looked at your sister, eyes void of any emotion. “I’ll have a chicken Caesar salad. There’s a binder of restaurant menus on top of the fridge.”

She kissed the side of your head before going back to the kitchen. You pulled the blanket closer to your body, sinking in the warmth of the fleece. You’re stronger than this, Y/N. You’ve felt this way with Jason before. Richard shouldn’t be any different. Sure, he’s the love of your life but are you willing to let yourself go because of a tabloid article? And a tabloid article? Really? You’re smart, sensible, and resourceful. Don’t let this eat you, you said to yourself.

Something rang on the coffee table and you looked over to find your phone flashing your boyfriend’s name and a request for a video call. You had half a mind to ignore it and let him text you whatever it was he wanted to say but you were a glutton for punishment and took your phone. You wiped your tears and cleared your throat before hitting the green button.

Richard’s face came into view, a smiling, happy version of him.

“Hello, love!” When he saw your face, his immediately fell and worry took over his features. “Love, have you been crying? What’s wrong?”

“A sad—A sad movie,” you rasped. “I watched a sad movie today.” You lied.

“Are you in bed? Where are you?”

“I’m at home.”

“Our place?”

Your throat closed at the mention of his house and calling it yours as well. You shook your head and wiped the tears before they fell. “I went back to my apartment. It was getting too lonely in that big house of yours.”

“I’m sorry, love. I’m coming back soon. I don’t think they need me here for more than a month anyway so—”

“Richard? Why don’t you try this on?” Lily came into view, holding a white button-down shirt to him. When she saw your face, she beamed and waved. “Y/N! How are you! Have you been crying?”

You gave a small wave as your heart clenched. Here was Lily, perfect beautiful Lily, with your boyfriend. You had no chance against her.

“She saw a sad movie,” Richard explained.

“Don’t forget to drink water so you don’t get too dehydrated from crying too much,” Lily smiled at you and passed the shirt to Richard. “If that doesn’t fit, I can go find you another one.”

“I’ll try it later, thanks.” He turned to you and smiled. “We’ll go back to the house when I’m back, okay? You won’t feel alone with me.”

You nodded and wiped your tears again. You couldn’t do this. He was promising to be with you when he was with her and it was like being with Jason and his lipstick-smudged collar all over again.

“What happened in the evaluation? Did they give you the department?” he asked sincerely.

You took a sharp breath before answering. “I didn’t go to work today. I caught the stomach bug.”

“Did you already take something for it?”

“Y-yes.” There were more tears now and you rubbed your eyes raw. “I’m sorry.”

“Love.”

“I think I hear the laundry. I have to go.” Lying came to you easily.

“Okay. I’ll see you very soon, love. I love you—”

You cut the call and threw your phone away, sinking into another episode of tears and self-pity. You missed him too much that you wanted to shout and lash out at him but you love him too much that you didn’t want to hurt him. You were being stupid again.

“Why did you do that, Y/N?” Your sister asked as she smoothed your hair.

“Because I love him, Y/S/N, and I miss him and not talking to him hurts but talking to him hurts,” you cried. “I don’t know why I want to punish myself instead of punishing him.”

You didn’t know what happened next after that but you remembered waking up and getting ready for your work. There was no point in wallowing in pity, no sense in reliving the article and his video call. You were able to be strong and independent with Jason. If you did it once, you could do it again.

Y/S/N stayed with you for a couple more days before she had to leave. She was loathe to go but you understood why since she was taking over your family’s company and she couldn’t do any of her work in a place that was three hours behind from their time in New York. She promised to check up on you and would be telling your parents to do the same since they had more free time on their hands now.

Whenever Richard called, you always made excuses about being tired from work or needing to accomplish something for evaluation or whatever it was that sounded valid. He never questioned any of it, he was only confused for most part but he always ended your calls with I love you’s and I miss you’s and I’m coming back home’s. You tried not to say those words to him, fearing you’d be too attached to him again when you’ve done so good at detaching yourself .

When he comes back, I’ll ask him if he wants to break up with me, you thought to yourself determinedly. What was it again, that idiom about ripping a bandage quickly so you won’t hurt yourself? Whatever it was, that was what you were going to do.

The last day of your work week was uneventful once again; Gina providing you with a bit of distraction from the new movie she found that she wanted you to see. She never mentioned Richard or Jason or anything pertaining to that day ever again, which made you very thankful of her. All she did was tease you of your position of being her senior at work now but it was all to make you feel better , and frankly, the first sense of normalcy you had in the last weeks. Your emotions were tired. You were spent from crying. You were ready to take on the world again.

“Please say yes. I swear it’s harmless. Nothing scary. Just pure adrenaline-pumping joy.” Gina said as you both exited the building of the laboratory.

“She’s going to take some time getting used to the adrenaline rush, Gina,” an amused voice said behind you.

The hair on your nape stood and you both stopped, turning slowly to look at the handsome face of your boyfriend—of Richard!—before you.

He was smiling down at you, obvious adoration and love on his face.

“Hello, love,” he smiled as he gathered you in his arms in a bone-crushing hug. “I missed you so much.”

You only mewled, overwhelmed at seeing him so unexpectedly. He didn’t give a day or a time when he was going to be home and the thought of him back in the same continent as you, in the same space, was enough to have you crying again.

Richard pulled back, wiping your tears before hugging you close again. “Oh, love, I’m sorry I was away for a while. It’s never going to happen again, I promise.”

You clutched at his shirt because there was nothing else you could do. You had backed out on your promise to ask him if he still wanted you because you were so scared of his answer.

You felt him drop kisses on the top of your head and his hands rub at your back. This man, the love of your life, he knew everything it was that you needed. Right now, even if all of your emotions were in turmoil, you needed to him close to you.

“Y/N, do you still want me to drive you home?” You heard Gina ask from beside you.

“Her car’s not working again?” Richard asked.

“It works but she’s been staying in her apartment for a while now.”

“I heard she got lonely staying in our place.” He squeezed you again. “I’ll drive her home, Gina. Thank you for driving her to and from work.”

You turned your head to the side, looking at Gina and giving her a weak nod. “I’ll be okay. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, G.”

She reached out to squeeze your arm. “I’ll text you tonight, just to check up on you.”

You nodded and buried your face on Richard’s chest again. You still felt his arms around you; he never let go since he started hugging you.

“Are you still sick with the stomach bug? Maybe you should have that checked out, love.”

“No,” you murmured against his shirt. “I’m okay now.”

You stayed there for a while, not minding the looks people were giving you. Richard was back, he had you in his arms and from the looks of things, he did not want to let go.

“Do you want to drop by your apartment before we head home?” he asked.

Home. Was home with Richard? Or was it in your little apartment, all by yourself?

“You might have some clothes you would want to bring back. If not, we can do it tomorrow morning.”

“I don’t have work until Monday,” you said and pulled away from him. You wiped your tears, looking everywhere but at him.

“Okay. We’ll do it tomorrow, then.” He took your chin in his fingers and tipped your face up, smiling softly at you. “Hi, there.”

“H-Hi.” You whispered.

“I love you.”

You only nodded before pulling away. “Let’s go? You must be tired from your flight.”

He took your hand in his and kissed your fingers. “Let’s go home, love.”

You were quiet during the ride back to his place, just listening to him talk about how his parents and his nieces and nephews were. He did mention Lily in passing, nothing too much about her and he didn’t address the tabloid article. In return, he had asked about what you had been up to. He told you he was proud of you when you relayed you got the job as department head and had insisted you two head out for dinner. You declined, telling him you were too tired from your new workload and you both agreed to just get delivery food so you both could rest.

The moment you both arrived, he wasted no time in kissing you. You did the same, realizing how much your desire for him was bubbling underneath your depression and pain and you let it through. You never reached the bedroom, having had undressed in one of the rooms of the house before you both became a mess of limbs before proceeding to posses each other with reckless abandon.

You laid on his chest hours later, twirling the hair on his chest with your fingers as you savored this feeling with him. The whiplash it gave you of the contradiction of his attitude before he left versus now that he was back. Gone was the reserved, subdued version of your boyfriend and who you had in bed was the same Richard you had fallen in love with.

“I’ve been worried about you, Y/N.” Richard said as he lazily drew patterns on your back. “You think I didn’t notice the way you would just end my calls?”

You were guilty of that.

“You’ve been crying a lot too. I know you have.” He ran a finger down the length of your spine. “You also have this haunted look on your face.”

You looked up at him.

“All I’m saying is, if there’s a problem, we’ll get through it together. If it’s a me or a you or an us problem, it won’t matter. As long as we have each other and we face it together.”

You looked away again, rubbing your cheek against his chest.

“Whatever it is that’s on your mind, you can tell me when you’re ready. I’ll wait for as long as you want me to.”

You closed your eyes and let a tear fall. “Richard…”

You knew it was your chance to ask your question but you just couldn’t. Not like this, not when he was so happy to have you back in his arms and you were spent from making love with him. You’re a coward, Y/N, your shoulder-devil told you.

No, I’m being brave and strong, you countered yourself. This is me savoring this time with Richard and making up for lost time and erasing all of those tears.

Then ask him soon or you’ll end up the loser again, the shoulder-devil said before you willed it away.

“Let’s go out tomorrow,” he said after a while. “To celebrate.”

“What do we need to celebrate?” You snuggled closer to him.

“You’ve become department head. Isn’t that enough to celebrate?” He kissed your forehead. “I’m so proud of you, love.”

You gave him a small smile and planted a soft kiss on his pec. “Thank you. I’ll let you have a pick of the place then.”

He hugged you closer to him.

…

“So? What happened? And don’t skimp out on details, Y/N.” Gina asked once you were able to call her.

Richard had left for the day; telling you he had to meet up with Dana and his assistant who just flew in today. He promised he would be back before your celebratory dinner and also had told you to dress in your best and nicest (“not that you’re not always beautiful, love, but why won’t we make tonight extra special?” he had said before he went out the door). You’ve spent most part of the day hyping yourself up for your confrontation, trying to map out how you’d ask him over the course of dinner. You couldn’t just blurt it out within earshot of other people and you wouldn’t even do it over dessert when you were high on sugar.

“I didn’t ask him anything, G,” you said as you went to the formal side of the walk-in closet. Your best and your nicest dress that you had in the closet was one your mother had given you last year for Christmas.

“Why not? Isn’t now the perfect time for that?”

“I know but he just looked so happy and—”

“And you look so miserable. Y/N, you can’t just keep this in. You have to ask him what’s going on between the two of you now.”

You picked out a garment bag, unzipping it and pulling out a beautiful silver fringe dress. The style reminded you of the Roaring 20’s save for the longer sleeves and much less fringe. There were art deco patterns in shimmering thread embroidered all over the sheer overlay of the bodice and on the sleeves and the only fringe elements were on the lower hem, which stopped just above your knees. It was the best that you had for the moment and somehow, it just spoke to you that this was the dress you were supposed to wear.

“I will, I promise. Can I call you on video? I need help in choosing a dress.” You put your phone down and pressed on the video option.

Gina appeared on your screen and the look of shock on her face when you showed the dress was almost hilarious. “That’s dress number one?”

“Yes.”

“That’s it. Don’t pick out another dress.”

You raised a brow and put the dress aside. “Okay…?”

“A nice pair of silver strap heels and maybe a small clutch should complete the look.”

You went around the closet, picking out options and showing your best friend. “You know, you could have a future as a stylist.”

“I have a future as your therapist, Y/N.” she kidded. “That dress just screams ‘revenge’ and I don’t even know why.”

You placed the heels and the clutch near the dress and looked at it. “I’m not out to get revenge on him, G.”

“I know, I know, but you get what I mean? It’s very bling-y, very sexy. It shows the right amount of skin.”

You smiled at her. You brought your phone over to the vanity and set it aside as you reached for your makeup.

“G, I’m scared.”

“That’s valid. This is an important question.”

“What if I don’t want the answer?” You looked at your friend desolately, picking up at your makeup and starting. “What if I read into everything right and he’s just taking me out to dinner to lessen the blow of the break up?”

“The thing is, Y/N, if you don’t ask, you’ll never know. And if you do ask and you do know, you’ll end up with two things: A, a break up, or B, a happy ever after.”

“I know that,” you said petulantly. “But…”

“But what? You brought yourself up after Jason, right? You’ve became stronger and more independent. If you did that once, you can do it again, but only if you two did end up breaking up with each other.”

You did your makeup, leaving the topic to the back of your mind. You were set on asking him tonight. There was no need in prolonging the pain anyway. Gina kept your thoughts occupied, telling you of the thrill ride she and her boyfriend got to doing last night and how much you would have loved the zip line but not the bungee jump. She kept you company as you finished getting ready for your date.

You settled for a simple makeup with waterproof mascara, which you knew would definitely come in handy for the possibility of tears, and kept your hair in a low bun on your nape. You donned on the dress, shimmying this way and that as you watched the crystals work and the silver thread reflect the light. Gina was right; this dress was revenge ready and even if you weren’t up for revenge, you still needed the armor to protect you.

“Holy shit. You’re gorgeous, honey.” Gina gushed as she saw you in your completed garb. “I could weep and I don’t know why.”

You smiled at your friend gratefully. You heard the door to the bedroom open and Richard’s familiar footfalls as he stepped inside the walk-in closet.

“Oh, wow,” was what he said as he beheld you. He looked stunned and surprised and reverent, even. “I—I—wow.”

“Mr. Madden, are you at loss for words?” you teased gently, ending your call with Gina.

He only nodded as he took your hand and spun you gently. “Y/N, love, I wish I could just ravish you.”

You blushed deeply, stepping away. “I spent a lot of time preparing this, Richard.”

“Right,” he cleared his throat and adjusted his pants. “Of course. I did promise you dinner, didn’t I?”

You nodded. “Yes, you did.” You took a deep breath and tried to bring back the teasing lilt to your voice. “Don’t make me wait.”

And he didn’t. You only waited for less than half an hour before Richard came down from your bedroom wearing his most dashing suit and a bowtie and looking every bit like a dream. You both took his Jaguar and you just watched him as he drove to the place, memorizing his face and thinking of how you were so happy in the past years. You were both silent during the drive. You were a nervous wreck, just fidgeting with your hands and tapping your fingers on your clutch as you neared the restaurant.

The valet opened your door for you and you stepped out. Richard nodded at the valet and took your hand as you both descended to the restaurant. You and him had days where you went in expensive restaurants just for the heck of going on an “actual” date. You two were casual people; always opting to get food from small businesses or getting delivery and just eating them at the comforts of your home. You didn’t want the hassle of having people come up to your boyfriend to ask for a photo or have your meals interrupted by squealing.

The place Richard chose, though, was by far the classiest you two had ever gone on. It was at the rooftop of the hotel and it boasted the wonderful view of Los Angeles from the floor to window ceilings. It had a tropical and nautical vibe to it, with trees in planters and thatched roofing and furnishing in navy blue and red motif. It was refreshing to the eyes. You and him did feel a bit overdressed but it didn’t matter because the other customers of the place were dressed the same way.

In fact, if you weren’t distracted by your thoughts, you were pretty sure one of the guests looked suspiciously a lot like your sister.

Dinner went by swimmingly. You had no appetite to eat even though the fillet mignon was cooked magnificently and to your liking. You only managed to finish half of the already small serving before deciding you wanted to eat dessert instead. You shared a brownie ala mode with your boyfriend, fighting with his spoon to get the best part of the brownie with the last bit of melted ice cream. You didn’t want to admit to yourself how much you missed having him around to tease.

“Y/N, why don’t we have a drink?” Richard said as he stood, going over to you and pulling your seat back.

You stood with leaden legs, realizing that this was it. The end of the most beautiful night of my life.

He waved over to a waiter and the said man appeared a few minutes later, bearing a tray with champagne coupes. You took one for yourself, sipping on it nervously and made your way to the glass window. Los Angeles sparkled underneath your feet and your dress caught the lights, reflecting it back.

“There’s something I want to ask you.”

“There’s something I want to ask you.”

You both looked at each other, confused.

“You first.”

“You first.”

You turned away, downing the contents of the champagne coupe and scrunching your eyes shut. This was it. Now or never.

Just go and ask, Y/N.

“Are you breaking up with me?

At the same time—

“Will you marry me?”

You stopped. Did you hear him right? Did he just… propose?

You turned to your boyfriend, who was on one knee with a closed velvet box in his hands looking at you very confusedly and very offended.

“What?”

“What?”

This was getting ridiculous. Richard stood and dusted his knee, placing the ring box on one of the tables.

“Richard, what did you say?” you asked in a small voice.

“You think I’m breaking up with you?” There was disbelief coloring his voice.

“You’ve been acting distant for a while now! How was I supposed to know you were planning something else other than breaking up with me?”

“No one plans a proposal out loud!” he screamed incredulously. “I love you so much, Y/N, but I can’t risk you knowing about me proposing so I planned it in London!”

“Well, what about the tabloid article of you and Lily getting together?” He was about to answer when you cut him off. “And don’t tell me that’s an old photo because you were wearing one of the shirts I bought you.”

He sighed and turned to the unlit crowd of people. “Lily,” he called out. “If you don’t mind?”

At the left of the crowd, an unmistakable brunette stood and gave you both a small wave. “Hi, Y/N.”

You turned to the person and your mouth fell. “W-what…?” Was that… Lily James? In this restaurant?

“I asked for Lily’s help when I was in London. She had a friend who customized engagement rings. She’s been a great help to me in getting the ring I wanted to give you.”

“But the tabloid—”

“I already asked Dana to tell that website to pull that article down. It took them a while, I think, but they weren’t quick enough because you’ve seen it.”

“Taron…?”

“Taron?” he quirked a brow.

You nodded. “Taron. During your birthday. He joked about us being an old married couple and you’ve changed since then.”

Richard cursed softly. It was comical if it weren’t for the circumstances. “Taron, mate, show yourself.”

Taron Egerton stood a few tables from where Lily was sat. He gave you a cheeky grin. “Hello, Y/N. You look beautiful tonight.”

You bit your lower lip and looked at Richard, who was now watching you.

“Taron knew about my plan to propose. I guess he couldn’t keep his mouth shut that night. I was pissed at him, not at what he said.”

Oh, my god, Y/N. You are such a boob.

“So, all this time…” You watched your boyfriend nod.

“All this time I was arranging everything so I can propose to you. I had to go to London for a month because we were planning everything from there; from your ring to the people coming over to this very night.”

You swallowed the lump on your throat.

“I would never break up with you, Y/N. I’m never going to leave you unless you leave me first. In fact, it’s never crossed my mind to leave you at all. I want all in. All the good and the bad and the ugly with you. I’m sorry I made you doubt me for so long but you just have to understand that I would like nothing more than to surprise and repay you for everything you gave to me since you came into my life.

“I didn’t know what I wanted with my life before I met you. I jumped from one project to another, thinking it would keep me occupied and make me not think about how lonely I really was. But then you came, or at least, your Twitter thread became viral and you were fun and lovely and I knew… Deep in my heart I knew I had to meet you. And when I did, everything just suddenly made sense.

“I wanted someone I could share my life with, someone who was as excited as I am for the next adventure and I found it in you. You’re different compared to everyone I’ve ever met and I mean that as a compliment, love, because as much as you are different, you were my perfect match. In all things that matter and don’t matter. So, please, let me take care of you tonight and for the rest of our lives.”

Your tears flowed from your eyes now and you swiped your fingers under your eyes. “Richard…”

“Well? What do you say?”

A nervous laughter bubbled through you. “Are you ever going to show me the ring?” you teased.

He chuckled nervously as he took the box again and knelt before you. When he opened the velvet top, you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you.

Nestled in the luscious silk of the box sat the most brilliant emerald-cut diamond you had ever seen. Flanking it were two trapezoidal-cut and tapered baguette diamonds set in a platinum ring. The center diamond was clear and bright and was easily the same size as your pinky fingernail, if not bigger.

You love it. You love the design. You love how he knew you weren’t one looking for the most sparkle but the ring was simple and perfect and well-thought off. You love it. You love him.

You love him.

Of course you did. You loved him with all your heart.

“What do you say, Y/N? Will you marry me?” Richard asked you again.

Your lips quivered before you let out a shaky nod and a very quiet yes.

The smile that bloomed on his face was one you would never forget. It pierced through your heart and it radiated to you as well as you smiled back at him, tears falling from your eyes. He removed the ring from the box and slipped it on your finger—a perfect fit—before he stood and kissed you deeply.

Cheers erupted from the guests before you and when you broke away, you realized that the customers to the restaurant were all of your family and friends. Your parents were there. Your sister. Gramps and gran. His parents Dick and Pat. Even Jerry the chauffer. Annie the production assistant was there. David the best boy. Lily. Taron. Gemma. Dana. Everyone you knew, including your best friend Gina.

You looked at your boyfriend again—no, your fiancé—and smiled at him before kissing him once more.

Here you were at the top of the world, surrounded by people who loved you, in the arms of the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. Content. Happy. Effervescent.

Richard pulled back to look into your eyes. His arms were still wrapped around your waist, refusing to let you go. You still had your arms around his neck anyway.

“I love you, Y/N. Forever.”

“I love you too, Richard. Forever.”

Forever.

You liked the sound of that.

A/N 2: THE END. Bet ya didn't see that coming, did you? Or maybe you did? You guys are all smart! So, this chapter concludes Snapshot. I've enjoyed writing and developing the whole story. It was actually just supposed to be a one shot but I guess vox populi says they want a part 2 until eventually I decided to make it a 5-parter. Thanks to everyone who's read every single update (and those who didn't mind Part 4 and Part 5 being more than 5k words). Rest assured, that even though the main part of Snapshot is done, there are still one shots coming (I have two more ideas that are waiting to be written). Ask box is always open for requests and comments and fangirling/fanboying. I love you guys. I'll see you in the next ones! 💙💙

[writingamongther0ses]

Mary Arden “MA” Ayres

So for my new Intro to Creative Writing class, we have to do writing exercises and turn one in. One of these was making a character profileand that’s what I turned in.

Basics

Age: 14

Location: Sunshine, Oregon

Nationality: Romani-American

Occupation: Part-time worker for her mother’s clothing store

Physical Appearance

Height: 5’1”

Eye color: Brown

Hair color: Dark

Build: Skinny and lanky kid, gradually putting some more weight on

Distinguishingbody attributes: Gains a scar across her nose

Characteristic accessories: Carries a bag of cat treats around, likes to wear colorful sweaters

How do they walk: She more marches than walks, fast walker with arms pumping

How do they talk: Raised very prim and proper for a good chunk of her life so she speaks slowly with a very false sense of cheer. Eventually wears away to be a fast talker.

Any characteristic postures: Likes to cross her arms when sitting

Psychology

Pet peeve?: Stupidity and the smell of incense

Distinguishing mannerism(s)?

Idea of a bad idea?: No such thing!

Introvert or extrovert: Ambivert

What do they do when no one is watching?: Climb onto the roof of her house to stargaze

What do they like to do to make a good impression?

Idea of a good day?: No running around, just chilling and playing with her cat

Do they have a favorite quote?: No

What do they find boring?: Just sitting and waiting for something

What do they find peaceful?: Their cat

What would they do if they won the lottery?: Try and give half of it to her mom

What do they do to get past an unpleasant experience?

Any favorite songs/movies?: The Great Mouse Detective

What do they want the most and why?: To help Sunshine by getting rid of the ghosts that plague it

What do they fear the most and why?: Heavy black dresses since it reminds her of her grandmother

What have they always dreamt of doing but don’t seem to be able to do?: To not come out of a tree without falling out

Are they particularly sensitive to any thing about themselves?: Not really. She’s learning more about herself since her parents’ divorce.

Circumstances

Place of birth: New York City, NY

Hometown: New York City

Educational history: Private school

Involved in clubs and organizations in school?: Used to be in girl’s choir at the private school

Any painful childhood memories?: Girls’ choir and her grandparents’ disappointment when she quits.

Dream job as a child?: Taking over the family business

Hobbies growing up (if different from current hobbies): Practicing piano

Greatest regret?: Nothing really

Happiest memory: Seeing her mom actually smile once the divorce papers were turned in.

Saddest memory?: Nothing really

Skeletons in the closet?: Keeping Sunshine’s paranormal activity from her mom.

State of the family today? Are both parents alive? What is their relationship to their sibling(s)?: Both parents alive but divorced.

Any nostalgic experiences with extended family?: Learning how to make s’mores with her maternal grandparents

How are they perceived by others?: Reckless idiot.

Social media platforms?: Currently does not have any, but MA is working on a YouTube channel

Who do they depend on for advice?: Her best friend, Riley

When was the last time they had to break a promise?: None

Where do they see themselves in 5 years, 10 years, 20 years?: College and doing more ghosthunting in Sunshine.

[xthunderbolt]

Some romanian myths and legends I grew up with that might be relevant to Servamp somehow

Romania has A LOT of myths and legends, especially about vampires and spirits, and all of them depend on the area you go to. Most myths you might have heard come from Transylvania because of Dracula, but these are all from my grandparents' area and the area I grew up in, which is a little far from Transylvania. Also a little warning: we are weird.

1. VAMPIRES ARE DESCENDANTS OF DEMONS

This is a pretty popular one, and the reason for it is Vlad Tepes. It's said that he made a blood pact with the devil for him to become a vampire, and what do we have in Servamp?

If the text ain't clear enough, it's about how Sensei's reincarnation technique is similar to that of a Servamp's creation and how it includes the vessel drinking the blood of the core. And sure, maybe it's not the blood pact we've read in stories and seen in movies, but... the blood is offered (forcefully or not), so it's like a pact made between the vessel and the core, a pact for immortality.

It's also believed that after death, the demon they made the pact with, takes them with them in the underworld and turns them to demons. And in Servamp we have the Inners who practically turned some humans into vampires by becoming part of them, and I think we could consider the underworld their inner world, since it's also part of the Servamp.

2. STRIGOI (stree-go-ee)

I actually wanted to turn the myths about them into a Servamp theory because there are a lot of similarities between them, but we still have yet to learn a lot about Servamps and their Inners.

Nowadays, they're called evil spirits who come to torment their families and friends who did them wrong during their life (similar to poltergeists). Back in the day, they were called living dead or vampires. It was believed to be the actual dead who got up of their graves and went to torment their families and friends and even to kill them for, you guessed right, blood.

It's also believed that strigoi can change into animals, usually bats or black cats. And what do we have in Servamp?

Plus the other Servamps with their animal forms.

And Hugh is the fucking representation of a traditional vampire c'moooon.

And it's not over.

They only got out of their graves at night because they couldn't maintain their human forms in the sunlight. And what do we have in Servamp?

But here's another super interesting thing. There are many ways to kill one, but one of the methods used in my grandparents' area was to put a wooden or silver stake through them - usually the chest to pierce the heart - so that they wouldn't get out of their graves anymore.

And what do we have in Servamp?

They also used to open up their graves when the sun was the strongest so "they'd burn the strigoi in them", but this is not relevant to Servamp.

But wait, there's more! In some cases, strigoi are born with weird conditions, but in most cases, it was believed that the people most likely to turn into strigoi, were the ones who

Practiced witchcraft (though looking back at the stuff we do/did, we all practice(d) witchcraft dkdksk)

Lived in heavy sin

Died of su!c!de

Died a tragic death

Born the seventh child of the same sex

It's not known yet how Servamps died but I mentioned these because all of us headcanon that they died in tragic ways. Plus there are seven vampires, though I know that this is related to their sins, but the coincidence it's interesting.

3. MOROI (moh-roh-ee)

These are like... a lower class of Strigoi I think I could say. The only difference between them is that these ones aren't as strong and dangerous. And they only come to kill and eat animals.

But what do we have in Servamp?

Subclasses. (I can't add pics anymore so imagine here a pic of Belkia and Hugh and Kuro talking about them.)

4. TO KEEP EVIL SPIRITS OR STRIGOI AWAY FROM YOUR HOME, YOU HAVE TO PUT GARLIC BY ALL YOUR WINDOWS OR CLEAN THE OUTSIDE AREA AROUND YOUR HOUSE WITH A BROOM MADE OF OAK OR PINE BRANCHES AND THEN LEAVE IT BY THE ENTRANCE DOOR (we're weird, ok?)

But here's our traditional whoosh-spirits-away broom and what we have in Servamp.

5. BLACK CATS

Hilariously enough, even if it's believed that Strigoi can take their form, we don't consider them bad luck. Unless they cross your path. And if this happens, you gotta take three steps back and spit three times (WE'RE WEIRD, OK?), one it's to ward off the bad luck, one so the cat won't take a life away and one I forgot.

But the thing related to Servamp here is that we consider it good luck to keep a black cat around your house. Not only it keeps evil spirits away, but it also brings in health because of the myth of their nine lives. And Kuro considers himself a soothing/healing cat.

6. TO LIFT GENERATION CURSES PUT ON YOUR FAMILY YOU GOTTA PUT A VIRGIN ON A HORSE AND HAVE THEM SURROUND YOUR HOUSE FOR EACH CURSED GENERATION. WHEN THE HORSE DIES, THE CURSE IS LIFTED (I'm sorry we're so cruel)

And we have this sexy motherfucker on a skeleton horse AND I'M NOT SAYING HE'S A VIRGIN, BUT WHO KNOWS? 👀

7. IF SOMEONE DIES AT A YOUNG AGE OR BEFORE GETTING MARRIED YOU GOTTA GIVE THEM A SILVER JEWERLY - USUALLY A RING - SO THEY WON'T COME BACK TO LOOK FOR A SPOUSE OR TAKE SOMEONE FROM THE FAMILY THEY WERE CLOSE WITH WITH THEM (example: my aunt lost a 12yo daughter and they forgot to give her the silver necklace. Four months later, her sister died, who she was very close with)

But whatever, here's Lawless with what I think is silver besides the gold.

PLEASE NOTICE HIS PURPLE UNDERWEAR

[romanianwilkinson]

MONSTER CAMP QUOTES STARTERS

A collection of sentence starters from the game Monster Camp. Feel free to change words and pronouns as desired. CONTENT WARNING(S) FOR: Monster Prom/Monster Camp spoilers, suggestive, cursing, crude content

“ I just have it here because [NAME] insisted that I offer it, as a marketing stunt. ”

“ And lastly, super-horny-type players no longer get a charm buff against tsundere types! ”

“ War machines don’t turn me on or anything! ”

“ I don’t wanna be weird, but do you mind if I climb inside of you and play around with your main turret? ”

“ A wine to DIE for, you say? Well, darling, don’t threaten me with a good time! ”

“ This one just says ‘ hmu with that reaper dick, daddy ’. ”

“ You on your phone, as always! Probably making blogposts on your Tik Tok page. ”

“ Yeah, you really don’t want to witness a repeat of the last time [NAME]’s diehard fans went without a selfie for fifteen minutes. My tailbone still hasn’t completely healed. ”

“ Now hold still, this will only hurt for a moment --- ”

“ Yay! You found a shenanigan! ”

“ My poems all have two or three emotions in them, AT LEAST. ”

“ CRYING IS OBVIOUSLY A COMPETITION TO SEE WHO CAN SQUEEZE THE MOST WATER OUT OF THEIR EYES! ”

“ No way, really? The way to WIN at poetry is by LOSING at life? ”

“ I dunno, maybe fall in love with someone who’s married and develop an opioid addiction? ”

“ HELL YEAH, SPEEDRUN! ”

“ It’s morbid, but... kind of romantic? ”

“ GASP! Google+? Are you kidding me? The psychopaths behind that global tragedy are here?! ”

“ Prison has changed me, [NAME]. Would you like to trade me some cigarettes in exchange for my fundamental dignity? ”

“ Undermining the laws of reality, subverting life and death, that’s the kind of stuff my followers expect. But CHEATING? No way. ”

“ Though we are imprisoned in chalk jail, we are free in our hearts. But our hearts are also imprisoned in chalk jail. ”

“ Um, no, I am NOT groveling. I am posing a dignified query to [NAME] that just so happens to be performed on my hands and knees. ”

“ I didn’t know you condoned playing the friend card to get free labor, [NAME]. ”

“ Ah, but saving the world doesn’t put avocado toast on the table. We indie seancers and necromancers need to pay our rent too, you know. ”

“ And as you know, I am illustriously Internet-famous, so if you could shower me with adoration and give me the pizza that would be fabulous. ”

“ Do you wanna fuck the pizza or not? ”

“ Are you ready to go swimming? I must admit, darling, I’ve always wondered what you would look like while... wet.”

“ Did you turn this date into an orgy without consulting me? ”

“ Gosh, I love it when you insult me! Please do it more! ”

“ Now who wants to make a baby? ”

“ What if she puts a curse on me that makes me magically forget the location of the clitoris?! ”

“ Hey, don’t knock wacky decisions that endanger us all! That’s how I always manage to stay a step ahead of my nemeses! ”

“ Oh gods, I’ve killed so many monsters, just for being monsters. This is making me question my entire moral foundation. I NEED MORE THERAPY. ”

“ I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again: fish give better pedicures than people! ”

“ You’re not tricking me into parenting a stupid egg. I’ve never fucked even ONE chicken! The egg is not my son! ”

“ You came to visit me at camp, Daddy! ”

“ Don’t be ridiculous, I know your brand of horny, [NAME], and this ain’t it. ”

“ I thought we both agreed to be nothing but vague and haughtily aloof about our past dalliances. ”

“ Point EAST, compass! EAAAAAAAAST! You dumb fuckboot!!!! POINT! EAST! ”

“ One time I was told a soul’s worst fear was bugs and I inadvertantly sent The Beatles. It happens to the best of us... And the worst of us. ”

“ SOMEDAY I SHALL DEFEAT YOUR FIVE STRANGE FEET! ”

“ Why do you keep suppressing your monster half? Embrace your true nature! ”

“ Wow. I didn't think this was possible, but I guess I was... wrong? About social media? Oh dear God, is this how grandparents feel?!?! Am I a GRANDPARENT?! ”

“ I don’t know! I was relying on my friends to cover up my bold and idiotic statement! ”

“ ... I ate the oars. ”

“ PSYCHE. The ocean can eat my ass. ”

“ So pucker up, [NAME]! I'm about to declare mouth war on your FACE! ”

“ YOU FOOLISHLY FOOLISH FOOL! You're showing our inexperience! YOUR HONOR, THE ENTIRE LEGAL TEAM PLEADS THE FIFTH! ”

“ That's right. I'm talking about a classic Transylvania Hot Tub, a Seth Brundle, and a REVERSE Reverse Romanian Wilkinson. ”

“ Sorry, I was in your ribcage seeing if I could use it to cut strips of crepe paper into confetti and then I got lost in your kidneys. ”

“ There's nothing sexier than a doomed romance between a dating sim player and a hot fictional character. ”

“ That's right! I secretly replaced one of you with a bear while no one was looking, to teach you a valuable lesson about the art of disguise! ”

“ Enchant my armor. I’m going into the lake. ”

“ For VIOLENCE REASONS! ” 

“ This stupid lake monster called me short the other day, but I was too low level to crush him like he deserved. ”

“ That dumb wet dinkhole won't know what hit him! But it will be me! I will hit him! ”

“ No, YOU'RE a fuckshark! Also, what does that even mean?! ”

“ You seriously didn't notice the enormous needles those interns jabbed into your veins as soon as [NAME] got here? “

“ It all makes sense! The Camp Dome is just an elaborate ploy to distract us from the giant mouth that eats campers! “

“ This is the BEST show I've ever seen in my life, which is now at an end! “

“ Am I high, or did he just tell us EXACTLY how to foil his evil scheme? “

“ What, like a few severed heads and visions of my grandpa screaming in horrendous pain are gonna freak me out? Where I'm from, you can buy that stuff at IKEA. “

“ ERROR: Due to the sixth mass extinction, the slaying of leprechauns is inadvisable. “

“ Then why do I have half-finished scarves, decoupage, pot-holders, friendship bracelets, and a taxidermied rabbit in my skeleton? “

“ The wang elemental. ”

“ I also have an uncle who works at Nintendo as a copy machine! “

“ What flavor of ice cream AM I?! Now I gotta know. HA! You know what I should be? 'Pistachio.' Because my outside is HARD, but I'm full of NUT. “

“ I mean, life is a bit like... this sandwich! No, stay with me, I'm going somewhere good with this. “

“ A survival situation without any sexy fun time isn't worth surviving in the first place. “

“ Rut the RUCK?! ”

“ The ' ambulance of the heart ' is just a regular ambulance! Ambulances treat all organs! ”

“ Yeah, that's why I made sure that my so-called ' emotional armor ' was also ' actual armor '. “

“ And being yourself is the key to living your dreams, which is the key to self actualization, which is the key to being really good at sex! “

“ So hot I'd buy that even without free shipping. 10/10, call me some time. “

“ Hi, quick question: does it count as kidnapping if I'm abducting you so you can help me do a thing you already agreed to help with? “

“ I could be wrong, but are you just upset because you DON'T have a skeleton that's inside your body? “

“ I'm gonna get SO FUCKING RELAXED MY HEAD WILL EXPLODE! “

“ Whoah, whoa, hold up. You're fucking my grandma? “

“ No, [NAME], that is a popcorn bag full of more dynamite. Put it down. “

“ I hear that at least 70% of people on Patreon aren't murderers! “

“ If you want cash, just rob banks like the rest of us! “

“ Did it work? Do you feel any less horny? ”

“ FUCK YEAH, LET'S PUNCH THAT MOUTH IN ITS MOUTH! “

“ Yes... incidentally, we are no longer allowed to enter Italy. “

“ Is anyone else turned on right now? ”

“ Yes! Yes! I know what you're feeling! I suddenly see how marrying a corpse isn't okay! “

“ JUST LET ME IMPROVE YOUR SELF ESTEEM, MORTAL! “

“ Look, choose whatever you want, but I'm not responsible for whatever you put in your mouth. ”

[adultswim2021]

Metalocalypse #8: “Performance Klok” | September 17, 2006 – 11:45PM | S01E07

I promised you all that I would watch Some Kind of Monster before writing up this episode, and I did. Unfortunately I watched it AFTER the episode and it sorta pushed the actual episode all out of my brain. Oh well.

This one is the one where Dethklok go to therapy, cuz they fight and act brutal all the time. You'd think these “mister cool guys” wouldn't want to have ANYTHING to do with therapy, and they'd be all brutal and rude about it, but they wind up with a little dorky guy who absurdly holds sway over them, like a freaking hypnotizer guy. Yikes, can you imagine that?

The reason Dethklok are all like that is because the therapist has banana stickers that he gives out to band members as they make progress. Also, and this is bad paragraph construction, I know and I'm sorry; I started this paragraph basically wrapping up my last thing in the previous paragraph and then immediately am moving onto another thing, which is: he turns out to have been in a band and sorta thinks of himself as part of Dethklok. This is VERY SCARY because it shows him calling his ex-bandmates, revealing that they are all skeletons in the therapist's basement. He killed them all and uses their bodies to be sick with! ME-YOW!

I especially love that scene the most. There's also a memorable bit where we flash back to Murderface as a baby, watching his father kill his mother and then kill himself with a chainsaw (the fact that his grandparents raised him is answered here in this episode, what fun). Also the guy gets eaten by wolves, but only his arms, cuz guess who comes back laaay-teeer??

Anyway, as for comparing this to Some Kind of Monster, it's not that similar; in fact I'd say they were almost going out of their way to not parody Some Kind of Monster. Except for there was sorta a tossed off line where Metallica say of their therapist that they were afraid he thought of himself as being part of the band, so in that small way it could have inspired this.

I was so high for this write-up I'm sorry

MAIL BAG

blogman you should see the bob's burgers movie. seriously.

I simply don’t care that much, but I’m not like, outright avoiding it. Like, I can see myself being bored and feeling like going to the movie theater and doing this. Sitting in a seat, looking up at a screen, all that good stuff.

Cree Summer was on Drawn Together. So was your hero Adam Carolla. Any thoughts on that seminal rude adult show? Are you a rude adult?

He’s not my-- what the FUCK. Anyway, Yes I am a rude adult. I do not like Drawn Together, it’s too nasty and full of itself for being rude. I don’t know. I just gets on my nerves too much!!!!

are you excited for seth green's bored ape show? tell me... please!

It looks like shit and those apes sicken me and I hope the people who created NFTs are denied entry to the kingdom of heaven

[xwing-baby]

Pull Over (Frankie Morales x gn!Reader)

Warnings: Fluff!! description of a dead bird, swearing, not edited

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: On a cross country road trip with your boyfriend Frankie, you wake to a beautiful sight...

A/n: I’ve pining for Frankie all week, add this gorgeous prompt photo and this is the result

---

You woke up slowly to the sound of Frankie mumbling along to the radio, as he had been when you fell asleep. Blue sky was all you could see out the window as you slumped in your seat, it wasn’t until you sat up properly that you saw the majesty of your surroundings. You gasped at the sigh of the expansive red dirt, sun dancing on the endless road ahead in mirages. The last time your eyes were open you were driving through concrete suburbs, a far cry from the desolate and beautiful desert you drove in now.

“Holy shit, Frankie!” You exclaimed, choking up in emotion at the sight through the windshield. Frankie startled at your sudden proclamation, “Why didn’t you wake me up sooner?” Tears streamed down your cheeks, happy tears, shocked and amazed tears. You wiped them quickly from your eyes hoping your fiancé wouldn’t see.

“Are you crying?” Frankie laughed, turning his head for a moment to look at you properly. He didn’t miss the tightness in your voice.

“Shut up,” You sniffed, wiping your eyes, “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I didn’t know you’d react like that!” Frankie continued to laugh at you, “And besides you looked cute!”

“That is not an excuse!” You exclaimed, cheeks heating up at his compliment, “Oh Babe, it's so beautiful,” You sighed happily. You pulled your phone from your jeans and took pictures through the truck window. They’d come out blurry and scratched, Frankie knew that. Then he had an idea.

“Do you want to pull over to take a proper photo?” He asked. Your mom had recently given you her old polaroid camera, the one she used when you and your siblings were younger. Having been there as a stop on the road trip already, it was sat in your bag waiting to be used. Here would be the best location to start, he thought. 

“Really? What about your schedule?” Ever the military man, Frankie liked to have a plan and stuck to it religiously. You’d been on the road for two weeks, he had planned every moment down the minute. He’d refused to stop at rest stops, despite if he himself needed to pee, all in the name of the schedule. You were surprised he was allowing the break. 

“Baby I can allow five minutes for a photo I’m not a complete hard ass,” He chuckled, “there's a stop point up ahead, I’ll pull over there and you can take some,”

You cheered and began to root around the stuffed backpack in the footwell to find out the camera. Frankie pulled the truck up ahead a few meters, parked and you jumped out eagerly.

“Fuck me it’s hot,” Outside of the cool AC in the vehicle, the air was dry but scorching hot. You could practically feel the soles of your shoes melting to the tar as you stood on the road. 

“It is a desert,” Frankie said, looking around at the expansive nothingness.

“Really? Would never have guessed!” You stuck your tongue out at him, he copied and you quickly snapped a photo. Frankie pouted and reached for the paper as it printed but you were fast and slipped the photograph in your pocket before he could get it and ruin it. 

Frankie wandered around the truck, you walked a few paces in the opposite direction enjoying stretching your legs. You’d been driving for eight hours, even if you had been asleep for the last two hours, your legs were cramped up. You stretched them out as you walked through the red dirt, watching your sneakers slowly become red stained too. You snapped a photo of Frankie leant against the truck staring off into the distance, a photo cliffs in the distance and then...

“Ah gross there's a skeleton!” You exclaimed. A half rotted carcass lay on the side of the road, bones pale under the beating sun it had been there for a while. It used to be a bird, though its feathers were gone. You stepped closer to it to get a better look.

“Don’t go closer to it!” Frankie said, walking over to you to look at it too.

“What? It’s already dead, it’s cool!” You peered at it, gagging as the smell of rotting flesh hit you. You retreated back to him and wrapped your arms around his waist as you took in the expansive desert surrounding you. 

“I do worry about you sometimes,” He teased you. 

“As you should, baby,” You grinned and kissed him quickly. “Take a picture of me, I’ve got loads of you,”

“Watch for cars,” Frankie warned as you stepped into the middle of the road. 

“Somehow I think I might see them,” You joked, it was clear from miles around you. You stood in the road and posed for the photo, waiting for a moment before calling back, ”Did you take it?”

“If you stop moving!” 

“I’m posing!” You laughed, Frankie raised a brow. “Fine I’ll hold still for you, slow poke,”

“Got one,” He said after another couple seconds. You sighed and jogged back over and took the developing photo from his fingers. You smiled, it was a really nice photo actually. 

“That’s cute! You are a surprisingly good photographer,”

“What can I say, I’m a man of many talents,” He smiled proudly. 

“That you are,” You pressed up on your toes and kissed him on the lips again, “I’m going to take a couple more and then I will be back in the car and we can get to Vegas!” You sang, doing an excited dance at the thought of finally getting to your destination. Frankie cheered too and laughed heartily before giving you ass a little tap and letting you go. 

He watched you wander about in the wilderness ahead, ever the adventurer. Unlike him, you didn’t really know the harshness of the world. You knew the things he had done, the things he’d seen, but only through stories. You weren’t hardened to the world like he was, like he used to be. Pope always teased him that you’d turned him soft but Frankie couldn’t find fault in that if it meant he could have moments like this. Usually a small reminder in his head would tell him to watch the back mirror, to watch for people hidden on the side of the road. Now, he didn’t think about any of that and instead watched you stride fearlessly into the unknown, smiling at the wildness taking photos as if you belonged among the rocks that surrounded you. 

Your smile was his favourite thing in the world. He would rather die than never wake up to see it again. You brought so much joy into his life, even when things were tough to hope that you would stick around long enough to smile again helped him through. Through fights, through low moments for the both of you the smile always sat as the prize for getting through the dark. It was what he dreamt of stuck in the Andes, it was what drove him home when he wanted to run away from everything. You.

The question had been his head the entire trip. He wanted to ask at a good time, a romantic spot meant something to the two of you. One memorable and meaningful. His plan was to take you out to California, where you’d met, and propose on the same beach. But each day with you in the truck was making him impatient. He nearly slipped it out when you had sex in the horrible motel you’d stayed at the night before. He was desperate, couldn’t wait another day to ask you to be his for forever. Now, watching you and your reaction to seeing it waking up from your nap. Maybe he didn’t need California, and past memories. Maybe he could make new ones here in the middle of the desert.

He watched you walk back to the truck, slipping the last polaroid into your back pocket. You opened the door and smiled at him. That smile. The decision was made. He had to ask now.

“What?” You asked, with an awkward laugh. You could tell he wanted to say something. He didn’t so you began to pack up your camera, putting it and the polaroid photos you’d taken away safely.

“What would you say if I asked you to marry me?” He asked, you stopped fiddling with your backpack and looked back up at him. Your heart fluttered in your chest. 

“What?” You were surprised. You had spoken about marriage with him, from the beginning of your relationship you had joked about being grumpy grandparents on a porch swing together. You just didn’t think Frankie was the type to just ask like this. You sat up and looked at your boyfriend. He was staring directly at you, he cleared his throat and readjusted his shirt. 

“Marry me? Tonight. In Vegas,” He said with more confidence, “Our friends are already there, I don’t have ring but we can go get one when we get there and I-,” He stopped, catching himself rambling, getting excited at the idea, “I would like to marry you,” He admitted, with a hopeful smile.

“You’re serious?” You asked, shocked at his words in the best way. Francisco didn’t speak, looking back at you with hopeful eyes. He needed an answer, “Yes of course I’ll marry you! Yes!”

“Thank fuck,” He gasped as you leaned over the console and kissed him hard. You’d kissed him a million times, but this was special, a new spark. 

“I have one condition,” You said as you pulled away. 

“Anything,” He smiled, eyes starry looking at you, so full of love.

“I want an Elvis impersonator to officiate” You tried to remain serious but couldn’t fight the grin on your lips. Frankie laughed and shook his head, “And you need to call my dad,” You said seriously, “I know it takes away from the spontaneity but he’d be-,”

“Already asked him, two weeks ago,” He interrupted you. Your jaw dropped, shocked.

“We were at their- Oh my god that’s why Dad had that stupid grin on his face when we left, isn’t it?” You gasped, hitting his arm playfully.

“Maybe,” He smirked, proud of himself now his plan had fully worked out. You gaped at him, 

“So you really planned to propose next to a decaying bird?” You looked at the skeleton again, curling your lip at it.

“The bird wasn’t in the plan,” He chuckled, turning your attention back to him with his hands on your cheeks. You smiled and leant into his touch, affectionately. 

“I love you Frankie Morales,” you whispered. 

“I love you too sweetheart,” 

---

tagging: @autumnleaves1991-blog​ the wonderful host of this awesome game

@hunters-heathen​ @peterssweetpea​ @beskarbabs​ @this-cat-is-dea​ @wille-zarr​