#also the start of stone & his love for using actual mail

[the-whispers-of-death]

now thinking about the first time teen!stone experiences butcher leave to italy.

it mostly happens at night while the kids are sleeping, and he can just hear a quiet little conversation between sylvester and butcher

something something hearing the line "come back to me alive, okay?"

and then he's gone and its quiet again. sylvester is still up, but is just looking out the window as butcher drives off.

something something he knows the only way butcher can really reach out to him safely is trough actual postcards or mail

something something, maybe stone is getting back from school one day and sees said postcard in the mailbox, addressed to a name he doesnt recognize, *from* a name he doesnt recognize, but the address is all the same

;;;; imagine that maybe he finds the stash of all the postcards under sylvesters bed when home alone for a day or so ((pretending the kids arent here for this scenario))

maybe he sees how careful sylvester was with the new card they got, and wanted to know more

something something imagining how quiet the house is. how stone cant really listen in on any more late night talks from their parents bedroom, because noone is talking

methinks sylvester in general is quieter when he's alone. or thinks he's alone

Teen!Stone, when he and Sylvester are alone: I miss him too. I was just getting used to him being around.

Imagine Stone manages to memorize the address from where the postcards are sent from and he sends one back, because he misses Butcher. He doesn't send anything with information that can be used against them and this is the start of him making up his own code to talk to people with.

Imagine how confused Butcher must be once he gets it.

[septembersghost]

Do you know where Taylor said she was giving up on relationships for a while? I feel like I remember that but can't find it

it was in her rolling stone cover story! (a lot of the press she did at that time is tinged with things that are saddening to revisit, but also clear on what her perspective was. the vogue 73 questions is another one):

"In fact, she suggests, she hasn’t dated at all since breaking up with One Direction singer Harry Styles more than a year and a half ago. “Like, have not gone on a date,” she says. “People are going to feel sorry for me when you write that. But it’s true.” Swift says dating is hard for her. For one thing, there’s the logistics. “Seventy percent of the time, when a guy asks me out, it’ll just be a random e-mail,” she says. Some movie star will get her address from his publicist and e-mail her cold. Usually she politely rebuffs them – but even if someone did penetrate that line of defense, building a relationship is hard. “I feel like watching my dating life has become a bit of a national pastime,” Swift says. “And I’m just not comfortable providing that kind of entertainment anymore. I don’t like seeing slide shows of guys I’ve apparently dated. I don’t like giving comedians the opportunity to make jokes about me at awards shows. I don’t like it when headlines read ‘Careful, Bro, She’ll Write a Song About You,’ because it trivializes my work. And most of all, I don’t like how all these factors add up to build the pressure so high in a new relationship that it gets snuffed out before it even has a chance to start. And so,” she says, “I just don’t date.” (That goes for hooking up as well. “I just think it’s pointless if you’re not in love,” Swift says. “And I don’t have the energy to be in love right now. So, no.”) Truth be told, Swift sounds a tiny bit jaded – which, for a “self-professed hopeless romantic,” maybe isn’t the worst thing to be. “It’s not like I’ve sworn off love,” she says. “My life is just not conducive to bringing other people into it right now. I’m very childlike and romantic about lots of things, but I’m realistic about this.” [....] it’s not bad that I’m not hopelessly in love with someone. It’s not a tragedy, and it’s not me giving up and being a spinster. Although I did get another cat.” She laughs. “I asked around: I was like, ‘Does two cats count as cats?’ But then I thought, what imaginary guy’s perspective am I thinking about this from? Someone is going to think I’m undateable for a lot of reasons before they think I’m undateable because I have two cats.”"

eta: the above still applies, but i was actually remembering her glamour magazine interview with this -

"Yeah, I do feel jaded about relationships, to be honest. I think the media has sent me a really unfair message over the past couple of years, which is that I’m not allowed to date for excitement, or fun, or new experiences or learning lessons. I’m only allowed to date if it’s for a lasting, multiple-year relationship. Otherwise I’m a, quote, ‘serial dater’. Or, quote, ‘boy crazy’. The narrative has been so wrong, every time it was the same. It’s 'Taylor spotted talking to this guy, she’s chasing him.’ They create a beginning to the story that didn’t happen most of the time, so then they have to create an ending. So they always go to the same fabricated ending that every other tabloid has used in my story, which is, 'She got too clingy’, or 'Taylor has too many emotions, she scared him away’. Which has honestly never been the reason for any of my break-ups. You know what has been the reason? The media. You take something very fragile, like trying to get to know someone, and it feels like walking out into the middle of a gladiator arena with someone you’ve just met. And all of a sudden the public and the media are allowed to say thumbs up or thumbs down. So I just don’t try it anymore."

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Eye of the World! Chapter 41: Old Friends and New Threats

NFT images are so fun to take and repaste everywhere, so enjoy this NFT of the Queen's Blessing. Remember not to right click and save and devalue the actual owner's version! It would be terrible if they got scammed! (Spolier alert: They got scammed. Also, this post will have spoilers for the whole damn Wheel of Time series so if you don't like spoilers, get outta here!)

This chapter has Moiraine's staff for its icon because she is back in Rand's life and she is ready to fix all of his problems by curing Mat. Hooray!

Lamgwin was sitting on a bench by the door, a brindle cat in his arms, when he came running up. The man stood to look for trouble the way Rand had come, still calmly scratching behind the cat’s ears. Seeing nothing, he sat back down again, careful not to disturb the animal.

There's something wonderful about a big man who loves kitties and treats them right. I don't remember if we ever get a Lamgwin POV, but I kinda hope we do now.

“The Queen, eh? You don’t say. We had Gareth Bryne out in the common room an hour or so ago, arm-wrestling the Lord Captain-Commander of the Children, but the Queen, now . . . that’s something.”

I'm sad that Bryne never got to arm-wrestle Niall or at least Galad, because that would be hilarious.

This man stands at the heart of it. Rand felt a chill. “I don’t stand at the heart of anything,” he said harshly.

Rand's capacity for denial is almost unlimited. He's literally having his dreams haunted by Ba'alzamon who he not unreasonably thinks is the Dark One. Darkfriends hunt him at every turn, aided by Shadowspawn and Padan Fain. An Ogier thinks he's ta'veren and an Aes Sedai foretells that he stands at the center of strife and suffering to come. "I don't stand at the heart of anything. They must have me confused for Brand al'Thur from Emma's Field in Illian. Common mistake; I get his mail sometimes!"

“I know,” Loial said. “I still cannot go into the streets without raising a mob shouting ‘Trolloc’ after me. But Mat, at least, only uses words. He has not tried to kill me.”

Fuck you Book 1 Mat.

Master Gill’s eye fell on the stones board and his mood seemed to lighten. “It looks as if we’ll have to start the game over later.” “No need for that.” Loial stretched an arm to the shelves and took down a book; his hands dwarfed the clothbound volume. “We can take up from where the board lies. It is your turn.”

Poor Gil, trying to at least get out of a bad game with some dignity intact and Loial won't even let him get that much.

I’m looking for Darkfriends, a boy from the Two Rivers—

This is actually a nice way to establish that the rest of the party's had enough time to reach Caemlyn now - and so have the Whitecloaks they escaped. These dudes are looking for Perrin and Egwene, wanted murderer and accomplice, and so ironically if they'd been allowed to finish their sentence things would have ended up a lot less tense for Gill (who isn't hiding them) and a lot more tense for Rand.

The scrape of chair legs was loud. Suddenly every man in the room was on his feet. They stood still as statues, but every one staring grimly at the Whitecloaks. The under-officer did not appear to notice, but the four behind him looked around uneasily.

Nothing but love for the inn patrons. I hope each and every one of these nameless heroes made it all the way to the end, and my headcanon says they do!

When he saw Rand, the innkeeper tottered off the chair and over to him. “Who would have thought I had it in me to be a hero?” he said wonderingly. “The Light illumine me.”

This might be a bit of ta'veren pushing Gill around, but let's remember that ta'veren doesn't completely change people, just makes them fall into the pattern. Gill always had it in him and before this series is done he'll do a lot more.

Nynaeve and Egwene ran laughing to throw their arms around him, with Perrin crowding in behind them, all three patting his shoulders as if they had to be convinced that he was really there.

Let's just all appreciate the stark contrast between EotW allowing there to be a quiet moment of reunion that shows how much the EF5 love each other and AMoL going out of its way to prevent any major group reunion and also being sure not to narrate any of the lesser ones that it couldn't help but acknowledge.

“I knew you were alive,” Egwene said against his chest. “I always knew it. Always.”

Girl which is it?

Rand nodded encouragingly, trying to tell him silently that it was all right. Moiraine was not like Elaida, with a threat hidden behind every glance, under every word. Are you sure? Even now, are you sure?

Usually Moiraine's threats are pretty blatant Rand. Remember how terrifying it was when she said she'd kill you herself if she had to? That wasn't subtle at all!

Rand exchanged a fleeting look with Perrin, who put his eyes down again right away. There was something odd about Perrin’s eyes. And he was so silent; Perrin was almost always slow to speak, but now he was saying nothing at all.

The lack of communication between the main characters is a lot more believable right now because Rand is just happy to see Perrin's alive and, not knowing what's gone down, doesn't want to pry too much about something that seems traumatizing.

Egwene touched Rand’s sword, fingering the red wrappings. “What does it mean?” “Nothing,” he said. “Nothing important. We’re leaving for Tar Valon, remember?” Egwene gave him a look, but she removed her hand from the sword and took up where Perrin had left off.

Rand dear, don't be dismissive. Everyone can tell something's up with this town and Egwene doesn't want to be in the dark in case this comes back to bite her.

“Pretty Nynaeve,” Mat spat. “A Wisdom isn’t supposed to think of herself as a woman, is she? Not a pretty woman. But you do, don’t you? Now. You can’t make yourself forget that you’re a pretty woman, now, and it frightens you. Everybody changes.” Nynaeve’s face paled as he spoke—whether with anger or something else, Rand could not tell.

With all three of the others, Mat seems to go right for the jugular. It almost feels supernatural. I wonder: is his loyalty to Rand just that much stronger than the others, or is it the fact that he was strongly loyal to Rand and didn't leave his side? If Mat and Rand had been separated for weeks, would Mat be coming at him now just as strongly?

One minute Lan was in the doorway, the next he was at the bedside, as if he had not bothered with the intervening space. His hand caught Mat’s wrist, stopping the slash as if it had struck stone. Still Mat held himself in that tight ball. Only the hand with the dagger tried to move, straining against the Warder’s implacable grip. Mat’s eyes never left Moiraine, and they burned with hate.

Lan, you're one hell of a badass. The man might be the best Warder that ever was.

You three have escaped them too long. It looks as if you’ve brought a new Trolloc War to Caemlyn, sheepherder.

Not yet, but maybe in a dozen books!

Perrin spoke with a soft flatness that gave his words more weight than if he had shouted. “We can’t stop it alive, either, now can we?”

Geez, the death march and nights of torture did not agree with this kid. It's actually impressive how much he'll bounce back going forward because right now he's got enough negativity to equal Gollum!Mat.

This was kind of a transitory chapter, firmly ending the second act of this book to set up for the final stretch, so there's not much to analyze. Next time though... more set-up as the group figures out just what it should be doing. But then... another transition as the group finds a way to leave town. So yeah. Bit stretched out, this section. That's okay though. It's gonna pick up.

[blossom-adventures]

Hi! Hello! And welcome to some actual writing that I did today!

I have been watching the Netflix show - The Last Kingdom - over the last few days and it has inspired me to work on my Skyrim stories, I have been busy with Far Horizons & Ancient Stones and I have started this… a new story that runs along side my Dragonborn’s story! This is the story of my Dawnguard Protagonist - Kristof

I was listening to the soundtrack of The Last Kingdom while I wrote this and, no joke, I actually got emotional

Hope you all like this 💙☺️

The Blood Prophecy - Prologue

A horse and cart travelled back to its farmstead having sold leather, meat and furs at a market in Morthal.

The horse was being ridden by a tall man, a Nord, with broad shoulders and large arms, an imposing figure. He wore clothes of leather and cotton and a chain mail shirt, on his left hip he carried a sword and on his right, an axe.

As the man travelled, he looked over the vast lands of Skyrim, his pale blue eyes taking in the beautiful landscapes of his homeland.

He steered his horse around the bend in the road, finally looking upon the tundra of Whiterun Hold, when he stopped.

“No, oh no, no, no, no! Gods no!” He unsheathed his sword and cut the cart free, spurring his horse into a gallop towards the smouldering ruins of his farmstead.

“Varin!” The Nord shouted as he jumped off his horse at boundary of his land “Varin!” He ran across the small area of farmland towards his house, trying - and failing - to avoid seeing all his livestock had been slaughtered along with his 2 guard dogs.

As he got to the porch of his home he saw 3 corpses; one was a large creature, akin in size to a troll, but it’s skin looked the colour and texture of stone and it had wings and long claws, which were stained with blood. The other 2 were Elves, one Altmer and one Dunmer they both wore red and black armour, the Altmer’s jaw hung open and the Nord saw that it had pointed canines

“Vampires?” He muttered as he opened the mouth of the Dunmer using the tip of his sword, he too had long, pointed fangs.

“VARIN!” He pushed the door to his house open and stepped inside, coming face to face with a sight he never wanted to see; another Nord man, much smaller than himself in both height and musculature, lying dead on the floor, with a sword in one hand.

“V…Varin” the Nord choked out the name as he approached and dropped to his knees at Varin’s side, he put a hand on Varin’s cheek, his skin was cold and his body was torn. The Nord scrunched his eyes shut and felt hot tears running down his face as he leant over Varin and kissed him

“I will bury you, my love… on our land, I… I am so sorry I wasn’t here to protect you” he began to weep, pulling the body of his love into his arms and holding him tightly as he grieved.

2 days later… The Nord was standing over 3 lines of freshly disturbed earth; one longer than the other 2, for Varin and their 2 adopted children who the Nord had found dead in their room.

He looked from the graves to the chain and amulets he held in his hand; hand carved charms of Mara and Talos - Talos was his, Mara belonged to Varin - the chain also held one plain gold ring, he pulled the matching gold ring off his finger and slipped it onto the chain too.

The Nord put the chain around his neck and tucked it between his leather tunic and chain mail shirt

“You will always be with me… all 3 of you… I know you will wait for me in Sovngarde” the Nord knelt down and touched the stone that had been placed at the head of Varin’s grave, looking at the carving he had done the day before. Varin, Husband to Kristof

Kristof climbed onto his horse and settled into the saddle, eyes fixed on the 3 graves.

“I am so sorry, Varin…” he rubbed his eyes with the back of one hand while he turned his horse away from the farmstead with the other “come on girl,” he spoke softly to his horse. “There’s nothing left for us here”

[ghostchanuwu]

✨️THE HOENN BOYS HAVE ARRIVED✨️

~~Winona will show up later I swear-~~

Wallace is basically a Water Type Tumblr Sexyman with a smooth as butter voice and is fluent in Spanish (being half Paldean himself),he is the top coordinater in Hoenn and is treated like a celeberty for it (which he does like the spotlight).Wallace is both Sootopolis' current Gym Leader and Reserve Champion if the position ever opens up (Juan will take over as leader if Wallace takes up the Champion mantle)

Steven...hooooo boy where to I start with this trainwreck of a man,hes been Champion for roughly 14 years now and is well deserving of that title but then a little something happened when Aqua and Magma were starting to ramp up their operations ole Stevie boy decided to storm their Mossdeep base and kinda nearly got killed because of that and what I mean is he got dumped on the front step of the Devon main building and his father (Joeseph Stone who I wanna punch-) decided that now was the perfect time to finally turn his son into the perfect tool (basically using him to finally gain full control over Rayquaza again after they broke out of containment 20 years prior)

Joeseph still (no nobody's knowledge outside of a very specific team of Devon scientists) has Jirachi's comet and decided "eh what's the worst that could happen" and had Jirachi's powers forcefully melded with Steven (who was still barely awake during all of this) causing Steven to become a psychic (although he refuses to call himself that) but also had the severe side effects of his mental state just being ripped apart (memory gaps,possible schitzophrenia,chronic depression) but Steven found a self admittedly dangerous workaround which was having Metagross put him into a state of near minimal function ahead of any events of anything public he needs to do otherwise he knows damn well that hes just going to have a meltdown in front of hundreds of people (he also likes to wear bulky clothing for that reason despite being built like a twig underneath) he has also since stopped dying his hair blue as to further himself from his father (black being his natural color)

(Fun fact they went to heccin collage but they met back in Middle School)

Wallace is 31 and is actually a well known Cartographer who often travels with Drake and Juan during their trips to different regions (also getting to see his Milotic 'Lauren' enjoy herself in the seas of Hoenn and Paldea)

Steven is 30 and has essentially a doctorate in Robotics and Geology (rocks being one of the few things in life he still enjoys),mans has made Porygon from scrap materials back during his collage days (most of them either having been given away or broke but he still has his OG one which is now a Porygon-2),despite being a near complete shut in he still likes being around Wallace and Winona as they're the only people who actually understand him (Zinnia makes a effort but her chaotic nature is too powerful)

Winona is 30 and is a Pilot having gotten her flight licenes at 25 coming from a long line of Pilots herself (Mother is a retired Mail Delivery woman and her Grandfather coming from the same unit as Surge both being Survey Pilots),she has a stern demeanor that comes from years of trying to handle the mess that is the current state of the Hoenn League on top of the Magma and Aqua incidents (most recent one having posed a massive threat to Foretree and surrounding cities and towns) but deep down she's still as sweet and caring as can be (albeit now with some crude humor and sexual innuendos that make Wallace bust out laughing and Steven a blushing mess)

BY THE FUCKIN WAY THEY'RE POLY.

YUP YOU HEARD ME RIGHT.

WALLACE IS PAN STEVEN IS BI/GREYACE AND WINONA IS DEMIROMANTIC AND FOUND THE TWO LOVES OF HER LIFE.

Mmmmmmm....honna post more AniRedux!Au stuff,finally got Jotho's story down and a loose late story for Hoenn

[steelycunt]

oh oh ohhh these a goodd!!! and you’ll ruin me either way but because i don’t feel like feeling like particular shit i’m gonna ask forrrrr….. actually… okay im stuck between 1 and 13 so you take your pick!! this is a hostage situation btw if u make me sad i’ll… like. idk. threaten you with a nerf gun i’ve stolen from my brother or smth. i’m still trying to figure it out leave me alone!

(also also also sending u a bowl of soup with extra crackers thru the mail!! hopefully it stays warm!! and hopefully a kiss on the cheek will help you feel all better as well!! isn’t that how it goes with healing someone sick? a true love’s kiss? sending it either way! xoxo)

LIV LIV LIV!! LOML!!! i am so endlessly sorry this is so late...i am The Worst...but i wanted it to be happy after all i put you through with literally murdering remus in the last drabble....only the best and the loveliest for you!! you, the best and the loveliest!! here you go!! seeing as i did 13 before, i went with:

1. things you said at 1 am

He says: “Budge over, you.”

Remus obeys. When they started this, he might’ve asked, why or did you have a nightmare again or is everything alright. He never cared for the answer, but it used to buy him a few seconds—used to give him just enough time to swallow his own spit, just enough time to fashion a makeshift exoskeleton out of flannel pyjama bottoms and the dry skin of his elbows.

Now, he has less need of it: Sirius isn’t all that scary, really. At this time of night—Remus cuts a glance at his bedside table, 1 a.m. or thereabouts, supplies his wristwatch, dutifully—when he’s standing at the edge of Remus’ fourposter, he’s not so bright, not so blazing. A bit more fifteen-year-old boy.

“There you go.” Remus shuffles sideways, tugs his duvet away to let Sirius clamber in. “Feels like letting a stray in out of the cold,” he tells him; Sirius snorts as he burrows down into the mattress.

“Mm, well,” he murmurs, turning onto his shoulder, “I do have fleas.”

"God. Charming."

Sirius presses his chilled foot against Remus’ ankle—maybe to be spiteful, or maybe just to watch Remus snatch his leg away, only to move it back moments later (he doesn’t actually mind). “Horrible mutt,” Remus snaps, disgruntled, and Sirius cackles quietly.

Back when it was reserved for nightmares, this thing they do, there was none of this: Sirius would come hurtling, fleeing something, all torn about the mouth. He’d come rearranged, like a building turned to rubble (except for the times it was Remus, instead), and Remus would let him in and they’d sit here silently, stare into the dark like it could hurt them.

Neither of them have nightmares like they used to, but Sirius still comes—more and more, in recent months. This is the third night in a row, and sometimes Remus wonders if they’re too old for it to be alright: they barely both fit in the bed anymore, new bones jutting into sides and limbs stacked on top of each other. Like one of those old-timey carts piled with plague bodies waiting to be buried.

In the end, he decides he doesn’t care. This is when he gets Sirius: in the dark, in the quiet, when he’s soft. Stone mossing over.

“So. What are you thinking about tonight, Moons,” Sirius asks him, a ritual akin to a roll call. Remus Lupin, present. Sirius Black, present. Ten dozen nasty little thoughts jangling about in Remus Lupin’s nasty little head like pebbles in a child’s pocket, present. They do this every time—Sirius makes knowing him look so fucking easy.

Remus leans back against the headboard. His bed hangings droop at one corner; James and Sirius snagged them down during a playfight in second year. “Hm,” he begins, as he has every night, “let’s see. I’m thinking about, er…” he falters as he sifts through his options—he can’t say you, and he can’t say that strand of hair you haven’t brushed out of your eyes that’s been bugging me for the last minute and a half (you bug me, Sirius), and he can’t say last Tuesday you drew me that doodle of The Beatles being hit by a lorry at the Abbey Road crossing because I was humming Maxwell’s Silver Hammer in Charms, and I’m sort of worried that if you sit up right now you’ll see it sticking out of the textbook on my bedside table—but eventually he settles on, “I’m thinking about that Ginsberg poem. That one about seeing Walt Whitman in a supermarket, or something.”

“Why that?”

“I don’t know. I just am. There’s a—there’s a bit about peaches and watermelons,” Remus says. “Maybe I’m hungry, I don't know.”

He’s aware of Sirius looking at him, of their hips grazing through layers of ratty fabric. He’s aware, out of the corner of his eye, of the spill of fine dark hair over his own pillow. “You want to go down to the kitchens? We could go now,” Sirius suggests. “They’ll have that tea you like, probably. The disgusting one.”

“No, it’s fine. S’only what I’m thinking about, is all. You asked.” Remus smothers a yawn against the back of his hand (he likes to try and stay awake as long as possible, these nights when Sirius turns up), turns to his side so that their faces rest inches from each other. “I don’t know why you always bother to ask.”

“Ha. Wait—really?” Sirius inclines his head; Remus’ breath rattles. They're very close, and he’s newly conscious of the ugly pink scar scrawled across the bridge of his nose, and of the fact that his duvet will smell like Sirius tomorrow (loamy pine; cigarette smoke and that soap that comes in solid white bars). “You really don’t know?"

"What d'you mean?"

"Do you...why do you figure I’m here, Moons?”

Remus stares; his face flares hotly. “I don't understand. Is there a—is there supposed to be a reason?”

“Oh, my—you actually don’t, do you? Oh my god. I’ve—I’ve been here three nights in a row, Moons. I don’t exactly come because it’s—comfortable,” Sirius says, softly, punctuating his point by nudging Remus with his knee. Two beds over, Peter grunts in his sleep. “You’re so fucking daft. Just—think about it, for a moment. Or…ask me what I’m thinking about. Go on.”

Remus obeys, of course—he’s always going to—and Sirius barely has to move his head to kiss him the way he does, then, before Remus has even finished asking. It's brave, careful, half-hidden beneath the duvet: a brush of noses. Sirius' mouth is cool like peppermint and Remus feels it even after, has to resist the giddy, ridiculous urge to touch his fingers to his lips. To the place where Sirius just—kissed him.

“That’s what I'm thinking about.” Sirius watches him, blasted little dent in his brow, and says, “that’s…that’s always been what, Moons. Fucking hell, I thought you knew. I thought you knew why I was here. You lovely idiot.”

“Oh,” he mumbles. Feels a bit stupid, now. Sirius starts to smile. “That’s—er. Right. That's good. Can I—can I change my answer?”

[anonymousfiction211]

Happy birthday

Summary: Everyone has forgotten your birthday, expect your loving boyfriend Loki who has a special evening planned for you.

Word count: 2.588 words

Happy birthday When you woke up this morning you were so excited. But now, you couldn’t wait for this day to be over. The whole day went by and everyone had forgotten it was your birthday. There were no text messages from friends, no cards in the mail, not even your parents had bothered to call you. At work no colleague had congratulated you, there wasn’t even a cake – apparently the office tradition broke with you. And adding to your misery, Loki was still in Asgard and you had no idea when he would be back. For a moment you though about leaving a message for Heimdall, Loki had taught you how. But you didn’t feel like yelling to the sky, to a men you never met, only for him to tell your boyfriend that you were sad. And then what? You would only wonder the rest of the night if Loki had gotten your message or if he also didn’t care like everyone else.

Deciding against leaving a message you drove the rest of the way home in silence. By the time you arrived at your house you were actively holding back your tears. Somehow you had hoped that maybe it was all a trick and there would be a surprise party at your house. But there were no cars and you didn’t see the lights on in your house. You sat in your cars for a few minutes, taking a few deep breaths. You would just order a pizza, watch a movie, and go to bed. At least it was weekend now, and you could spend the weekend doing all the things you love like reading, baking, playing the piano and maybe buy a few more plants. You rumbled through your purse, looking for your keys. You got out of the car and opened your front door. You entered your hallway and the first thing you noticed was that there were lights on, and you could clearly hear someone walking around in the kitchen.

You briefly wondered how you didn’t see the lights from the outside of the house, you should have. But panic rises as you realized that someone was in your house. The problem was that your phone had died, so you needed the phone in your living room. But once you would call the person inside your house would hear, and that could lead to a very bad situation. You put your purse and keys down as quietly as you could. You grabbed an umbrella and slowly made your way to the kitchen. If you played this right you could knock the person out, tie them up and then call the police. With the umbrella in your hand, you slowly opened the kitchen door. There was a man in front of the furnace, standing with his back to you, but you recognized him immediately.

‘Loki?’ you asked.

He turned around and smiled brightly at you. ‘Happy birthday, love’ he said.

You immediately ran towards him and he opened his arms to catch you. It took a moment for the two of you to let go of each other. When you did he kissed you.

‘I missed you’ he said.

‘I missed you too. How are you even here? I thought you had to remain there until the end of the month?’ you asked him.

‘Darling, like I ever was going to miss your birthday’ he smirked.

Normally, you would laugh. But the remark hurt and you started to cry. Loki’s happy expression changed into a worried one. He pulled you closer and let you cry against his chest.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked when you stopped crying.

‘Nothing’ you mumbled, nuzzling closer to his chest. You didn’t want to admit it that everyone forgot your birthday.

Loki grabbed your shoulders, moved a bit away from you so he could look at your face. ‘Tell me’

You stared at the ground until a finger under your chin made you face Loki again. You sighed. ‘You’re the first person to remember today’ you said, your voice barely higher than a whisper.

You saw the hurt in Loki’s eyes before he pulled you into another tight hug. ‘That’s awful’ he whispered.

‘I’m really glad you’re here’ you said back.

‘Me too, and I will do everything in my power to make you happy tonight’ he said.

‘But why are you holding an umbrella? It isn’t raining?’ he asked.

You broke the hug and put the umbrella on the ground next to the door. ‘Ah, well. The lights were off, but when I entered I saw them on and heard you in here. I thought you were an intruder’ you explained a bit sheepishly.

‘And you were going to attack me with an umbrella?’ he cocked one of his eyebrows in amusement.

You shoved him ‘Shut up, that was the best plan I could think off’

He just laughed a little. ‘Sorry to startle you. The lights would be my doing. I really wanted tonight to be a surprise’ he explained.

How he did the trick with the lights you didn’t ask. You knew that once Loki started to talk about magic, he would be talking for hours on end. The kitchen timer went off and you noticed that Loki had something in the over. You were curious and tried to look passed him, but he blocked your view.

‘Go sit at the dining table. I have a few surprises for you tonight and you are far to curious, kitten’ he mused.

You wanted to protest, but the look of excitement on his face was way too adorable to ruin. So, you did as you were told. You walked to the dining room that was just across the hall. When you entered you froze. Not only had Loki already set the table, there also was a large bouquet of roses, candles were burning and your favourite wine was in a wine cooler. This was by far the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for you. You sat down in your chair when Loki walked in with two plates, covered by a lid.  

‘You like it?’ he asked

‘I love it’ you smiled at him.

He sat the plates down and instead of removing the lid, grabbed the bottle of wine. He poured you a glass, which was thoughtful, but you suspected that he liked to drag out his surprise meal a little longer. He poured another glass for himself and sat down. He sat very close next to you, adding to the intimate dinner. Finally, Loki removed the lid from the plate and you saw your meal. It was your favourite, steak with red wine sauce, oven baked potatoes covered in herbs and green beans. It tasted amazing and suddenly you realized that Loki didn’t cook.

‘How did you manage this? I thought you couldn’t cook?’ you asked.

‘I wanted to do something special so, I learned this dish’ he explained a bit flush.

‘Hmm, don’t you remember early in our relationship that you explicitly stated that Gods don’t cook?’ you teased him.

Loki grabbed your hand kissed the back of it. ‘He does for the one he loves’ he said, making you fluster and blush. He smirked at the effect his words had on you. The rest of dinner the two of you talked about what had happened in the three weeks he was away. Loki, of course, had many stories that involved tricking and annoying Thor. Once you finished your meal Loki grabbed the plates and told you he was right back. He came back with a large slice of cheesecake the two of you shared. He told you proudly that he also made the dessert himself. When the two of you were finished you started to clean up, but Loki stopped you. He conjured up a blindfold and you looked questioningly at him.

‘I don’t want you to see just yet’ he mused.

You rolled your eyes but let him put on the blindfold. He steered you through the house. When he told you to stand still you felt him move in front of you. He undid the blindfold and once it was off he moved to the side.

‘Surprise’ he mused.

You gasped when you saw. Loki had set up an enormous blanket fort in your living room. There were blankets, large pillows and he had al kind of snack set up on the table. There was a string of light that gave the whole room a romantic vibe. The fort was placed so you could still see the tv, there were multiple DVDs laying in front of it. Next to de DVDs there were several board games.

‘Remember our first movie marathon and we spontaneously build a blanket fort?’

‘Of course I do. That was the night you asked me on our first official date.’ you whispered a bit overwhelmed by his surprise.

‘A date that went so terrible you actually told me that the blanket fort was a much better date’ he mused.

‘Well yeah, you got us kicked out of the restaurant before our starters even came. It was pouring outside and you lost the car key’ you laughed. ‘But walking in the pouring rain with you turned out to be fun’ you added.

Loki grabbed your hand and guided you to the fort. He sat down and put you between his legs. The rest of the night the both of you cuddled, talked a lot, and played the games. A few hours later you decided to put on a movie.

‘Thanks for the amazing evening. This night was really the best gift you could have given me’ you said hallway through the movie.

‘Did you really think that this was your gift?’ he said.

You squirmed out of his grasp. Loki overdramatically sighed but laughed at your giddy attitude. He reluctantly let you go, so you could bounce up and down, excited to see what he was about the give you. He conjured up a small dark green box. When you reached for it he pulled it away.

‘I think I deserve a kiss first’ he smirked.

You rolled your eyes but started to kiss him. Knowing Loki, he would demand another kissed so, you made out with him for a while. The moment he lowered his hands around your waist you grabbed the box.

‘And they say I don’t play fair’ he teased.

You ignored his comment and opened the box. Inside the box was a beautiful golden necklace with a snake on it. The snake was in a s-form and there was a tiny green stone for the eyes.

‘It’s beautiful’ you said.

Before Loki could reply you grabbed his shirt and pulled him in for another kiss. He just laughed at your action and took the box from you, once you were done. He took out the necklace and you turned your back towards him. You removed your hair and he fastened the necklace around your neck. When it was in place you turned around and Loki pulled you flush against him.

‘Thank you, for everything’ you said.

‘I’m glad that you liked it all’ he said to you.

You kissed him again, more slowly this time. Loki moved his lips with yours and you felt his tongue asking for permission. You opened your mouth and he slid his tongue inside, exploring every inch. You moaned slightly in the kiss. Your hands were under his shirt and his were caressing your upper body. You stopped kissing him and pulled his shirt over his head. For a moment you stared at him, and you noticed Loki slightly blushing under your gaze.

‘Let’s make this more fair’ he whispered.

He removed your shirt and unclasped your bra in one smooth motion. He laid you down on your back and started to kiss your neck. He moved lower and swirled his tongue over every inch of your breasts. You were extremely aroused and your nipples were hard by the time he was done. You were breathing fast underneath him. He brought his head up to yours and kissed you deeply. He laid on his side next to you. His hand slowly trailed from your cheek down to your breasts. He pinched your nipple, earning him a gasp from you. He moved lower and undid the button of your pants. You eagerly kissed him back and stroked his naked chest. His fingers slipped between your folds. Once his fingers were wet with your arousal he circled your clit. He swallowed every moan and whimper that left your lips with his own mouth.

You felt the pleasure wash over you. Loki slowly circled your clit until your orgasm had subsided. He retracted his fingers and licked them clean.

‘You look very pretty when you come undone for me’ he whispered in your ear.

He pulled of your pants and underwear. Once you laid naked before him he removed his own. When his erect cock sprung free you licked your lips. You wanted to get up, to suck his cock, but Loki laid you back down.

‘Tonight, is about you’ he said.

He was on top of you and stroked his erect cock against your wet folds and your clit. In one smooth motion he pushed himself inside of you. Your legs automatically hooked around his waist and Loki started a slow pace. His eyes didn’t leave yours, unless he was kissing your mouth, neck or whispering in your ear. He whispered how beautiful you looked, how much he loved you and how incredible you felt around his cock. Because of the slow movements and your wetness, you could really feel every movement he made. Every movement was deliberate, it really felt like you were the only thing that existed for him right now.

To your surprise he stopped. Before you could ask, he rolled the two of you around. You were on top of him and due to gravity felt his cock slid deeper inside of you. Hitting just the right spot. You started to ride him in the same slow pace as him. It truly was a sight to have Loki lay underneath you, moaning and praising you. Once you felt your orgasm build up, you started to ride him faster. His hands went to your bouncing boobs and he started to play with them. This was definitely the most intense sex the two of you ever had, normally there were a lot of games and Loki was an enormous tease. Loki started to moan shamelessly underneath you, but you were doing the same at this point. When he started to circle your clit with his fingers you came undone immediately. You felt Loki’s cock twitch inside of you and his seed spill. After a few more thrusts you collapsed half on top of him. Once your and his breathing had gone back to normal you pulled him out of you. He immediately grabbed you back and laid you close to his chest.

He was stroking your arms. Goosebumps were forming and you started to shiver a little. Loki grabbed a blanket form nearby and pulled it over the two of you. He nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck and pulled you as close as he could.

‘This really is the best birthday I ever had’ you said.

‘It’s far from over yet, love’ Loki said while starting the kiss your neck and trailed his fingers to your clit.

Tags: @delightfulheartdream @the-best-phineas​​ @theaudacitytowrite

[rumblelibrary]

Can I have something super soft and sweet with Andrea? I need some content from my cottagecore husband. You can decide whatever you want to do with it!

The Perfect Day [Andrea Marowski x fem!Reader]

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: fluff

A/N: thank you for making me write this lifesaver <3

The soft chirping of the birds woke you up. You stirred lightly, a smile coming across your lips as you felt the soft lavender scent over your young husband skin. You slept holding hands, your forehead against his chest as your eyes got used to the bright light outside the window.

The soft cotton sheets clung around your naked bodies along with some heavier quilted duvet, legs tangled as he breathed slowly still deep into his slumber.

You observed him into his simplest nature, he looked so much younger when asleep, his features perfect as kissed by the gentle morning light.

You slowly moved your hand away, he frowned but with time you mastered the art of leaving the bed without awakening him. He huffed, face buried into the pillows as he rolled onto his stomach covering the warm spot you left. Your hand gently onto his soft hair caressing them away from his face. The time seemed to be something unknown to you.

After adjusting the covers over his shoulder you shivered into your nakedness, your hands grasping onto your white nightdress pulling it over you to cover your frame before adding up a burgundy cardigan belonging to Andrea to protect you against the goosebumps your body suffered for leaving the warm comfort of his presence.

You stepped into the kitchen quietly, breathing in the soft smell of a new day. Your hands went immediately to unveil the dough that was covered by a cloth and you left to raise during the night, it was now ready to be baked and you’ll have your warm bread for the day. Andrea spent the day before picking up the mature fruits from your trees, so it was easy to wash them and cut them while you put on the pot for your morning tea.

You hummed softly a song that Andrea was rehearsing with his violin for few days, now helplessly stuck with you, your hands unveiling the pie you prepared the day before cutting some slices.

Before anything else you moved away going to your garden standing barefoot onto the cold stone of the steps, you hugged yourself enjoying the view before slipping on some comfortable shoes and settling the table. The summer day was amazing and the morning breeze made the heat unnoticeable. A white table cloth with fresh flowers and then your started going back and forth from the kitchen to the garden bringing dishes and plates

You blinked surprised as little Anthony, the 14 years old son of the local baker, passed by with his bike waving at you. He blushed as you just looked so calm and relaxed.

“Got the mail and the newspaper Mrs Marowski” he said as he hopped off his bike to hand it to you. You picked one of the peaches you got into a basket nearby handing it to him I return “Thank you Anthony, have a good day”

He smiled and nodded vehemently as he rushed off back to his duties.

You looked down onto the mails: an invite to a concert in London, something from your parents, something in polish coming from Andrea’s family and a voluminous yellow envelope that was coming from Andrea's favourite music shop in London and by the weight you could tell it was some new music sheets. Also a note from your seamstress telling you that the new winter coats need the last fittings.

You were about to check the first page of the newspaper as a loud meowing made you jump.

Andrea was standing in front of you, soft khaki pants with a loose white shirt, your cat draped onto him, a beautiful grey British short hair who was staring at you.

“Did Laszlo woke you up?”

“Did you doubt it?” Andrea asked with a chuckle as he leaned closer to you, a kiss resting onto your lips as the cat jumped off his arm.

“I hate to wake up on an empty bed, even if your table setting is the best” he assured as he smiled at you tangling you into another kiss.

“Mh, the tea” you just reminded yourself as he chuckled 

“One more, one more” he begged between chuckles stealing another kiss before letting you go inside and he proceeded to give the annoying boss of your cat the food he deserved and demanded.

He sat on the chair enjoying the soft breeze as you brought a small tray with the tea to complete the set up.

He hummed softly opening the package coming from London gleefully as he admired his new music sheets.

“Your presence is required to see a new concert, I think they want to show off to have you as solo violin” you said showing him the invitation while sitting with him. He admired you, he stared at you with a soft smile “I will have to hear my agent first” he said as he meant you. You always had a good gut feelings and often kept him from taking random impulsive decisions.

“There’s something from your family too” you added and he smirked 

“You read it first” he said as he was helping you with polish and you sighed softly using one of your butter knives to open the letter. His hand quickly went to your cookies taking one happy bite as he still stared at the music on paper.

His eyes darting up only to look at you focused onto the paper scribbled by his parents and you nodded explaining to him a letter that was mostly about every day updates

“This word” you signalled as he leaned in lightly in to read it as there was only one point you didn’t seem to grasp not even by the words before or after it.

He chuckled loudly almost chocking onto the crumbles covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What?”

You asked as he blushed deeply.

“Oh no, they hated my knit work? Is it that?”

He shook his head as you frowned at him waving that letter expecting an answer before your mind went onto the worried train of thoughts.

“It means” he licked his lips, eyes shining “It means pregnancy, not literally it is a more discreet way to say it, more like expecting something, but they mean that, my mum wants to know when she can call herself grandmother”

You blushed deeply as you looked down, you are such a young couple and you’re actually enjoying this phase, now it is not like every little delay of your period didn’t make your heart do the backflips, but to be asked so directly felt weird.

“Don’t worry about it, she means it in a good way, they adore you and they keep saying how you brought some sense into me”

He smiled taking your hand gently kissing the back of it.

“We have Laszlo for now it is more than enough” he joked to light you up and you giggled “Indeed” you said as you looked around finding the cat running after some butterflies. Andrea always complained that Laszlo hated him, Laszlo was your cat even before the polish man came into your life, but truth to be told they were best buddies: the cat would always check where he was and Andrea was the first to always feed him.

“I was thinking we could go to town today, I promised Ursula to play for her tea party with some friends coming all the way from Edinburgh and maybe we can go past the bookshop and buy some flour and whatever else. I could plant some pumpkin seeds, I love your velvety pumpkin cream for autumn”

You smiled as he really can’t wait for the colder season even if that meant to see you more dressed and clothed he also loved to nuzzle with you in front of the fire.

“Agreed” you said and he smiled proudly as you handed him the letter from your family and he sighed softly but proceeded to read it like you did with his.

He was way better at English, but mostly spoken English, he still hated to read and you picked books for him too even if he always puppy eyed you into reading for him.

He read quietly the letter as you ate some pie. He frowned lightly as he spelled out loud some words, sometimes he did it to learn the difference from a word that he knows and how it was written.

When you both drank your tea and he finally indulged into the local news he hushed you to get dressed “You take the longest to get ready, I’ll clean up” he said winking at you making you huff and roll your eyes playfully.

So you did, you went to wash yourself and braided your hair into an updo hairstyle, a light white dressy shirt and a long pleaded skirt for you as you also prepared the clothes for him.

As you redid your bed and he walked inside after clearing up the kitchen you couldn’t help but adore him into his little routines, the way he shaved and got prepared, the way he wore the clothes you figured out for him with happy delight. He loved how you looked after him, he felt loved, the small attentions like that one put him at rest, he relaxed and he felt babied and he loved it.

He picked the case of his violin handing it to you using it to pull you closer and steal another kiss. You chuckled as he leaned in to kiss you again, and again, and once more.

“Andrea” you whispered as he chuckled softly kissing you once again, he smelled so good, his skin soft and perfumed thanks to his aftershave oil.

How could you resist him?

“Two minutes” you whispered leaning back down the violin over your vanity to be able to wrap your arms around his neck letting out a soft yelp as he fell over you on the bed.

Useless to say that it wasn’t two minutes and not even twenty, your trembling legs around him and the way you guided him to give you just what you wanted from him always drove him crazy.

After a short nap you really had to begin to get going, he helped you to dress up slowly zipping up your skirt and you had a new rush of pleasure just by buttoning up his shirt covering his chest peppered with hickeys.

You locked the house and he pulled out his black bike putting the violin box in the basket on the front along with your white one “I prefer when we go with one” he complained but you chuckled “yes, but if we buy few things we will have to go by walking” you made him notice and he sighed nodding.

He waited for you as you pedalled your way to the town centre, he was swaying in front of you and you raced a bit against each other until the stone bridge that welcomed you there.

“See you at Ursula’s” you said and he nodded leaning in to kiss you one more time, he indulged into that kiss a littlest as he opened his eyes slowly, a smile playing over his lips.

“My wife” he said, sometimes he repeated it like he had to remind himself. You chuckled as you kissed his cheek and you go parted.

You knew Ursula liked to pared Andrea off, you let her do it, she came with time to like you, she saw how much good you did to Andrea, how much balance you gave to him, his behaviour was stable, he settled down.

You stopped to the local grocery store taking up some spices, some cinnamon in particular as you knew how much Andrea loved it on sweets, few little cooking and baking items you missed and then off to the bookstore.

“Hello hello” you said as the old man there greeted you “The books you ordered arrived” he said as he moved his shaky legs into the back of the shop bringing you the easy books in polish you ordered to practice some reading. You smiled looking at them as Andrea gave you the titles of books that made his youth and also few new ones for him. You added to that stock a new cooking book and few novels for Andrea and his English. The old man was the sweetest, he kept the booster open no matter the weather and politics and he always made sure to find anything you might be looking for.

He helped you tie all your buyings together onto the bike so after paying you just pushed it walking through the town, just enjoying a good time around giving yourself time until you made it to Ursula’s home.

Well, you called Ursula’s but Janet as always there even if her presence was always quieter you teamed up with her most of the time letting Ursula enjoy her time with Andrea.

You smiled stopping in your track as you heard the soft sound of the violin, you closed your eyes breathing in, like you could enjoy the music through the air.

You adjusted your dress and smiling to yourself, the moment sinking in slowly.

Your husband, your life, the idea of coming back home together, cuddle on the couch, listen to his words, having his honey eyes on you.

A natural smiled appeared on your lips.

After few moments you decided to keep going, you pulled your bike  letting it rest against the fence, Janet appearing at the doorstep to welcome you in.

Your perfect day.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams@charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme  @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling @everythingbeginsineternity-blog

[satorinnie]

love and war

pairing; gojo satoru x f!reader

genre; angst

wc; 3,6k

warnings; jjk manga spoilers

notes; i think its obvious the ending is a bit rushed but i still tried my best :/ got the motivation to write the ending but then lost it again...but i wanted to post it today so here it goes. would love to hear feedback on it!

it wasn’t meant to play out like this. no, he wasn’t meant to find out about it, not like this at least.

that was the last thing you ever wanted.

everything was going so fine, maybe too fine, but still, nonetheless, things were perfect between the two of you just this morning. how did it come to this?

he was looking at you, blindfold off, crescent blue eyes reflecting each emotion he held so so openly. the only times you saw him this vulnerable was when the two of you had talked about his past, his regrets, and what if’s. his eyes were full of adoration at that time, looking at you like you were a pure blessing from the heavens, an angel sent to save him from his drowning thoughts, to let him be himself.

but now, now they were looking at you with so much hurt, anger, regret, and oh so heartbroken.

you had seen, witnessed, first-hand what the receiving end of gojo’s furious gaze ended with. it wasn’t pleasant, that’s for sure, and you had sworn to yourself you would never be on the receiving end of it.

oh, how the tables have turned.

it was understandable why he was so mad; god knows you would be too. because you, who had delicately pieced back his broken heart and trust after the events of getou, had now broken it, by your very own hands at that.

how did it all come to this? you had no idea. you knew starting a relationship with him was wrong and off-limits from the very beginning, but the temptation had surpassed your rationality just like eve when she bit the apple. you never thought you’d fall this deep down the hole, so deep that you forgot–no, ignored your true mission.

to monitor gojo satoru and sukuna’s vessel and kill them when you got the order.

it was last year when the head sorcerers in england had given you this mission. if gojo was unbeatable and unrivaled in japan, you were the same in england. perhaps your curse technique wasn’t as strong as his, but it was versatile and a very reliable technique.

after itardori yuuji became the only sukuna’s vessel, japan wasn’t the only country sour about the thought of it; in fact, it had caused a panic in europe as well. and as england was the country that ruled the jujutsu world in europe, you were assigned with monitoring the vessel and the owner of the six eyes. they wanted their eyes and hands on the boy with the infinity.

but you befriending everyone there, joking with the curse himself, and becoming lovers with the one and only gojo satoru was definitely not how you planned for things to go. it spelled trouble from the beginning, getting close to the shaman who had an ego and power rivaling the gods. but, unfortunately, you were now too deep to just leave without explaining everything to him, and even hoping for a chance that he’d forgive the lies you fed him throughout your times together was a little farfetched.

how could you make him believe that everything you said was genuine, and out of true love? the answer was you couldn’t because the betrayal in his eyes was enough for you to gulp down those hopes, taking a deep breath to prepare for the argument that was about to come. “look–satoru, please let me explain and don’t jump to conclusions.” you lifted your hands in front of you as an act to calm him down, walking closer to him with a futile attempt to hold his hands.

“explain what?” a laugh escaped his throat, one mixed with desperation and madness, “that everything between us was a lie? a mission for you? how do you plan on slithering your way out of this now, huh?” his voice rising with each word he was spitting out of his mouth.

you were desperately trying to keep up the expression that you had everything together, when in fact, you didn’t at all. your hands were starting to shake because you were scared of losing the man in front of you whom you were utterly in love with. the boy with the infinity held your heart in his palms, and he had no idea about it. “nothing was a lie, alright! i know how that document looked, and i can’t lie and tell you that isn’t true, but my love for you is–”

“keep those fucking lies to yourself y/n–you know, everyone knows already. megumi, yuuji, maki, even shoko–”

“stop cutting me, gojo! i know it might be unforgivable, but you have to believe me when i say i forgot about the mission. i love you, okay? i am undeniably and utterly in love with you, and that’s why i’ve been ignoring every call, every message they’ve been sending me about the task because i can’t do it!” you were screaming now, hands in the air, trying to voice out every single emotion you were feeling in that moment.

“well, it’s too bad that i don’t love you anymore! you know, i’ve known about this for a few weeks now and was hoping you’d open up to me about it, but–”

you froze at his last sentence.

“–you what? so you’re telling me that everything that happened in between us during those weeks was an act? all fake? you were just waiting for me to open up so you could what, break my heart in a more grand way?” now you had to give it to him, not only was he secretly smart, he was also a great actor who had you fooled for weeks now. the room was silent after your words, both your eyes staring deep into each other; you, waiting for his answer.

and you watched as he opened and closed his mouth, not sure how to answer your question. but you knew what that meant; with his hesitance, you had found your answer. breaking your eye contact, you looked down at the floors of the home you used to share; you could hear your heart shattering into millions of pieces with just the sound of his breathing.

“alright,” you whispered into the air. running your hand over your face, you leaned back against the kitchen counter. “so how will this go? are you going to let me go or are we gonna have a full-on fight right now? or is everyone already waiting outside the door to capture me?” you were doing your best to avoid eye contact, it was already too heard keeping your tears from falling, and you knew one more look at the eyes you loved so much would break you.

there was silence for a few minutes, but in your eyes, a few minutes was an eternity long. the fact that he was debating the question you left was heartbreaking already. but you weren’t afraid to fight; you had come to japan prepared for the worst-case scenario, and getting to know satoru up close, you believed you had a fair chance at winning.

“–im giving you twenty-four hours to leave this country. if you don’t–you know what’s to happen.” this had you lifting your head in the speed of lightning, eyes wide mouth agape, you could only watch as gojo satoru left your shared house without sparing you a single glance.

he was oblivious to how he carried your heart out the door when he left you stranded in the middle of the kitchen.

it was an hour after your discussion, and you were still in the same spot he left you. still standing, still too paralyzed to move. the reality of things being over was just starting to weigh on you, but you knew you had to start packing because not only gojo; but england was going to be after you too.

you failed the mission. and you didn’t plan on returning back.

war is a slippery slope. what would you do? becomes what will you do? becomes what have you done?

looking around the now-empty home, you built with gojo; tears started falling from your hallow eyes. so many memories resurfaced in one moment; it was overwhelming. the day your first saw him when he was trying to crack a joke at nanami to get him to smile. or the time he first asked you out admitting he had found you a force to be reckoned with and how you had managed to bewitch him. the day you accepted, the day he made you see stars behind your eyes from pure bliss. the day he proposed living together. the day you danced around the living room with his obnoxious music playing at the back, head laid against his chest humming to the melodies. how you felt like a family when you saw him and the students act so close–

how long has it been? how long have you been pushing your actual task behind the lies and excuses you fed yourself. was that person you? the ever so stone-hearted y/n breaking her facade for the boy with infinity.

my god, my god, whose performance am i watching? how many people am i? who am i? what is this space between myself and myself?

it was all getting too much. when had you fallen down the hole to never leave again? should you be grateful, or should you curse the fact that despite all misfortune, you can still feel love and unearthly love but still for earthly objects?

finally getting a grip on yourself, your feet moved down the hall to your shared bedroom, and without wasting a glance at his side, you quickly started to pack your stuff to leave japan.

gojo wasn’t doing well himself. he thought he had finally found true happiness after all the loss he had to go through, and it all turned out to be nothing but an act built on lies. after he left your shared home, he had wandered around in the streets with no destination in mind and the cold chilly air blowing past him. his blindfold was still off, the moon making his crystal blue eyes shine even more, still with unshed tears at the brink of it—a dam about to break.

he knew he lied to you when he told you he didn’t love you anymore and only hoped the years of the facade he had to keep up was enough to fool you into believing his words when in fact, it was the very opposite. he loved you so much–so much that it broke him when he read the document that was mailed to you weeks ago. you and him were an inseparable duo–the strongest and his tamer. the boy with the infinity and the girl who held him down with gravity.

upon wandering the streets for god knows how many hours, he found himself in front of a riverbank. the light of the moon was radiating, creating a painting of a million stories for the broken boy. but while being so engrossed with the view in front of him, he had failed to feel someone creeping up behind him; with his infinity down, nanami was able to lend a hand on his shoulder. “i’m assuming you talked with her.” he broke the silence.

his silenced gaze worried his friend; they promised to keep it between themselves. while nanami believed letting the kids know would be the better choice, gojo was adamant about keeping your good image in front of them. he knew how much they adored you, and he would hate to be the one to break it to them. “i did.”

“and what choice did you go with?”

“i gave her a full day to leave, and if otherwise–” he gulped down the lump forming in his throat, “–if otherwise, i told her i would fight her.” tears now slowly starting to trail down his porcelain skin, an odd view to see for his foes.

“you did the right thing.” nanami tried his best to console him in a way. this was a new image for him; he never saw gojo break down like this; the last time he saw his best friend (he would never admit that to his face, though) like this was when he had to kill getou, even then he had managed to keep up the aloof facade. but he knew his feeling for you ran much, much deeper than that. he has witnessed what your companionship had done to him. it was what pieced him back, and now what broke him.

it’s been years since you left, but you were back now. back in japan after two years of staying away, traveling to many different countries, on the runaway from the higher-ups in england. you would’ve preferred your return to be on good news and such, but unfortunately, it was the opposite. your friends back in england had informed you about how they planned on ending gojo’s life once in for all today with a team of experienced sorcerers, and although you wanted to keep away from trouble as much you could, you couldn’t let the man you love die.

with your hood covering your face, you walked down the streets of shibuya, the once war zone that led to many disastrous events in the past years under your feet. you heard about everything; the culling game and the capture of gojo satoru, thank god those were all in the past now, and everyone was well–except nanami, and the new had broken you. just like gojo and the students, he also had a special place in your heart, his calm attitude always grounding you. you don’t think his last thoughts of you were good–considering what gojo had told you the night you left, but still, his death was unexpected news to you.

you didn’t know how you were going to approach the topic; there was a big chance they’d attack you the second you entered their line of vision, not allowing you to voice out the news–but it was worth the try nonetheless. taking your hood down, you entered a cafe; the need for caffeine after the long flight back here was strong, the anxiousness and stress not allowing you to sleep. what you didn’t expect was seeing the three first years–now third years–you loved so much sitting in the cafe chatting idly, not noticing you. you wanted to keep it that way, but on your way out, a feminine voice called out your name. “y/n sensei? is that you?”

your steps halted, freezing in your stop. the confrontation was inevitable now, causing a stir in a crowded place was the last thing you wanted so you turned around to see nobara staring at you with wide eyes, megumi and itadori behind shocked just as her. what you didn’t expect was her running straight at your engulfing you with wide arms; a big grin plastered on her face. “where were you! you disappeared out of nowhere, and gojo sensei wouldn’t tell us anything! we were really worried; you left me alone with these two idiots–you know you’re the only one who understands my pain–”

“–i’m sorry, i had to go on an abroad mission, and it took too long. it’s good to be back.” you hugged her back tightly, still trying to process the new information she threw at you. gojo had lied, and that made you question everything you believed in. had he also lied about his love for you back then? but that was for later–for now, you wanted to cherish this news and spend time with your favorite students, learn about their well-being and their stories.

“come on, let’s sit shall we? we got lots to catch up on.”

it was now midnight, and you were waiting somewhere in the middle of the forest for your dreaded meeting with gojo. you managed to convince the kids into telling gojo to meet you here without actually letting him know it was you. they were excited, to say the least, talking about how you and he were the epitomai of soulmates, two pieces meant to find each other, filling up the gaping hole you both had. you were very nervous, fidgeting in your spot, hiding behind the tree waiting for him to arrive, and when you heard footsteps nearing you–you knew this was it, heart pounding like crazy.

walking out of your hiding spot, you slowly made your way over to him, hands stiff at your sides anticipating his reaction. “gojo.” he looked at you, blindfold on this time. still, you could see his displeasure from how his body stiffened at your voice, looking at you with a straight face. “what’re you doing here? i thought i told you to leave.” you sighed, walking closer to him, “i know, and i am going to leave again, but before that, i need to tell you something–” you were cut off by the powerful shake of the ground, throwing you off balance resulting in you falling to the ground.

behind you were your old friends from england, standing tall and mighty together–a force to be reckoned with; you were once one of them, but alas, that was the past. “thanks you leading us straight to him y/n.” elizabeth smirked looking at your fallen state, “you made things a whole lot easier for us.” she continued. looking back at gojo, you were surprised to see his hands locked in some type of chain. how did they manage to get past his infinity–unless he didn’t have it on in the first place. did let his guard down once he saw you? why would he do that?

“no, no, no– leave him alone, elizabeth! i swear to god i’ll rain hell upon all of you!” you stood up desperately trying to leave the makeshift cage your friend had put you in when a sudden idea came to you. it was risky, but it would save him, and that–that was all you needed, your purpose of coming here in the first place.

“lover boy is being quite over there. what is it? cat got your tongue?” she was taunting you and definitely enjoying it too. walking closer to you, she neared your face while the others were beside gojo, “you’re both fools believing you guys could be together in the first place, that’s how it works–” she was cut off by the stomp of your foot on the ground lifting a piece of rock–the one gojo was on, up to the air, away from your ex-friends. if you couldn’t save yourself, you could at least save him; apologize for your past mistakes.

from where you were, you couldn’t do much, but you used all your might to send rock flying in the air towards them meanwhile keeping gojo away from them. your cursed technique was called upon the tainted sorrow, the ability to manipulate gravity, and it was unrivaled in europe. you trained too much to reach where you were, the strongest just like gojo, but even the strong can fall, and all it takes is the blink of an eye.

you were on the ground again, but this time blood pouring from your insides, a deadly piercing through your abdomen. while you were so engrossed with trying to keep gojo safe, you hadn’t realized he was already off the piece of rock fighting the rest. and he had made the mistake of underestimating them, resulting in the struggle. but that distraction was enough for elizabeth to pierce the cursed knife through you.

one second you were on the ground; the next, you were in someone’s arms. looking up, you were met with the crystal blue eyes you had grown to love staring right back at yours. this reminded you of the moments where you used to lay on his chest, hands tangled in his snow-white hair, his hands keeping you tight against him, eyes staring at each other with nothing but love. how unfortunate things weren’t that way now. you bleeding onto his hands which hopelessly applied pressure to your wound in hopes of saving you, his blindfold now off, tears slowly caressing his face. it was a sight for the eyes. you lifted your hand up to cup his cheek, imprinting a red hand mark right where you touched him, “satoru–”

“save your breath, i called for shoko; she’ll be here any minute, and we can save you–” you silenced him with your thumb on his lips, “satoru, this was inevitable, even if you save me now, they’ll still be after me. it’ll be a never-ending cycle.”

“no, i can keep you safe, y/n. remember? it’s us against the world, baby. always has been and always will be.” he kissed your forehead, still keeping you close. his eyes were shut tight; he could feel your consciousness slipping away and knew he couldn’t save you. but can’t a man hope? and as you uttered your last words, body temperature turning cold, breathing stopping, he knew right then and there this was where he lost it all. this was how he lost the light of his world, in his own hands, between his arms.

“for what it’s worth, i love you, ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard.” and he knew those words would haunt him for an eternity. follow him wherever he went. the ghost of you will always be with him, never leaving. you will hold him down by gravity with just your soul. yet he still wanted to curse the gods for taking you away from him, his fresh breath of air, his anchor.

your love was strong, but the timing was wrong, and love decided that you both didn’t belong.

[pansyslut]

hidden letters

summary: astoria finds letters you and draco wrote to each other in the past, not knowing how deep your love for each other truly was

warnings: a little angst, a little fluff, slight cheating

gif: @animeglitch

flipping through the hidden chest of letters, astoria looks at each of them suspiciously, having never seen them before. each marked with a date and nothing more, she’s hesitant to prod into her husbands secret mail. sighing, she lets her curiosity get the best of her and opens it marked with a number one.

november 2, 2002

dear y/n,

well shit, she thought. this was her hint to turn back now. this was her clue to not gaze any further and let the letters be...

i know i shouldn’t be writing you. i know we agreed to let things be and keep everything between us... but i cant. i miss you dearly– more than i can put into words. i miss waking up in the mornings with you by my side. i miss being excited to go home knowing that you’ll be there waiting for me. i miss your laughs and our deep talks and your unwavering joy, flooding through the house with you laughter and presence. i miss you. i understand if you don’t write back. but i thought you should know that i still think about you daily and the time we had shared did not go wasted. you have forever made an impact on my heart and i thank you for that. i hope for me to always be apart of you as you are to me.

sincerely,

draco

feeling a tear fall from her face, she looks down to see the few droplets how hitting the paper and leaving marks on the now smudged ink. astoria knew that him and y/n had a hidden relationship for a short period of time but she never knew the extent of it. she had always liked her when you all were in school. a fellow slytherin- yet not slytherin at all as you radiated positivity like any other hufflepuff. but she was shocked to see how draco was so keen on you. draco is the complete opposite– always dark and gloomy, rarely ever having a smile on his face. reaching down to grab the second letter, she opens it to find it was written by draco yet again.

november 17, 2002

dear y/n,

i lied. and i’m sorry. i lied when i wrote that i would understand if you didn’t write back. because as i watch the window for your letter in hopes for it to arrive, i realize now that i was wrong. for whatever this is worth, i’m throwing myself out on a limb here. if you want nothing to do with me then i understand i will respect that. but please let me know if you are alright.

sincerely,

draco

november 22, 2002

dear draco,

i’m sorry too. i should’ve replied but we both know deep down that this is wrong. you are to be married. married to a good woman, who will help provide and keep your family name strong and intact. i don’t hate you for it. i wish i could but i don’t. you will be a good husband to her, i have no doubt. she will bare children and you will be happy... at least that’s what i keep telling myself. i need you to be happy. i need to know that we didn’t throw away what we had for nothing. so please dray, make it mean something. if not for me than for your fiancé. i miss you too.

sincerely,

y/n

astorias heart aches as she reads the last few sentences. she wants to hate you for loving her husband but she can’t blame you. and you had even wrote than you wanted her to be happy and for draco to be a good husband. what kind of woman does that? what kind of woman lets her man be taken by another? a respectable one. there is no distaste in astorias heart even if it still stung.

december 1, 2002

dear y/n,

you have no idea how big of a grin i have right now. if anyone were to walk in they’d probably think i was finally losing it. i might be actually. i’m so glad to hear from you. i want to know everything. fill me in on all that i’ve missed.

as you know, i’m set to be married in a month. i dread the day as it comes closer and closer and i wish there was something i could do about it. astoria is constantly poking and prodding about wedding this, wedding that, it’s driving me crazy. it only makes me think of you and our stupid dream to run away and have elvis marry us. my mother would throw the biggest tantrum it would’ve been amazing if we went through with it.

p.s. have i mentioned i’m glad you answered and that i miss you?

yours,

draco

yours... the bitter word sits in her brain. as she reads through the letters it is becoming more and more apparent and how draco would never truly be hers. you would always be sitting in the back of his brain.

december 18, 2002

dear dray,

haha very funny. i bet before i even got to the alter your mother would have sliced off my head. and don’t get cross with astoria, you know she’s doing this for her family as well. i do think a part of her will care for you. i don’t see how she couldn’t. remember to pick and choose your battles and remember “happy wife happy life”. and i’m sure astoria could also just as easily slice off your head as well– be sure to remember that.

you’re getting married in a week. i don’t know how we’ve got to this point but we have nonetheless. be good to her. i know you will. make your family proud. that’s all you’ve ever wanted to do and this is your chance.

p.s. i’m a little butt hurt i didn’t get an invite but whatever

astoira shoved each of the letters into the envelopes, not being able to read anymore. there were still hundreds more scattered throughout the chest but it was no use. her husband loved another. she obviously knew he didn’t love her. no matter how many failed attempts of being a sweet, competent wife, she was met time and time again with nothing but a stone cold glare.

shoving the chest back into its spot, she starts pacing the room. after a few minutes, hey eyes catch a half written letter laying on his desk.

october 12, 2005

dear y/n,

you are the love of my life. i’m sorry for throwing that away. i intend to fix this. i’m done trying to please my family while losing myself in return. i’m not a scared little boy anymore. i am going to leave astoria and return to my rightful wife. i’ve been with her for three years and neither of us our happy. it’s always been you, y/n. whenever i fall short, you’re there to pick me up. whenever i have doubts, you’re the one slapping the back of my head muttering how mach of an idiot i am. i love-

and that’s where it ended. astoria didn’t know if he stopped whether it was due to no ink or being preoccupied or having a change of heart, but she knew he was right. none of this was how it was meant to me. and she was going to fix it.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Misread Details, Part One

CW: Death talk, BBU, dehumanizing language about Box Boys

A Box Boy Serial Killer On the Loose? Part 1 of 3

r/LetsTalkTrueCrime

•Posted by u/oshaycanyousee 1 month ago

Hello, r/LetsTalkTrueCrime! 

I’ve posted this write-up in a couple other reddits, but someone pointed me to this one as being a good place for discussion, and this is a really weird set of three unsolved murders (well, one death and two murders? Maybe?) and I wanted to see if any of you have some thoughts or maybe more info on these cases.

Three men died within two years in three different cities. 

While each death is unique, all of them have one thing in common - fingerprints and DNA from a single human pet was found in every single location. 

Let’s start with the first death.

Nathaniel Matthew Benson, who went by “Nanda” (a childhood nickname given to him by a younger brother who couldn’t pronounce his full name as a toddler, apparently), was forty-one years old at the time of his death. 

He was born and raised in North Dakota by very strict religious parents, and had three younger brothers and one younger sister. There is some disagreement here about whether his home life was peaceful or not. His younger sister claims that the environment at home was strict but fair, and the family was mostly happy. Two of his three younger brothers tell a different story, about a father who put too much on their shoulders, especially “Nanda” as the eldest, and the pressure they felt to be perfect.

His other brother, the youngest of the family, has never given a public interview beyond a short statement that he and Nanda were not close, and he did not feel able to speak about his character. There were nearly fifteen years between the oldest and youngest childrens’ births, and Nathaniel had moved out of the house by the time the youngest was four years old, so this makes sense.

By all accounts, Nathaniel was an excellent student, getting all A’s throughout his years of education. He was considered quiet and shy, and most of his high school classmates don’t have many standout memories of him. He graduated valedictorian of his high school class, then surprised everyone by stating he wouldn’t be attending college, and instead would be taking a “gap year” to travel the United States using money from his graduation party and also some he’d saved up from working part-time retail and restaurant jobs.

Between ages 18 and 19, he took his small secondhand four-door vehicle around the nation, calling home every week or so to give his family updates, sending postcards, etc. After about six months, though, the phone calls and postcards became fewer and fewer, and eventually he told everyone he had gotten a new job and decided to forgo college entirely.

His family was shocked - and by all accounts his father was furious - but Nathaniel refused to budge. 

There was apparently a very hostile phone conversation about one year after this decision which was the last time Nathaniel Benson spoke to his father directly until his death.

After this, his family received only sporadic communications sent from a P.O. Box located in central California, in a mid-sized city known as Dosaba. He never did give anyone an actual home address.

He occasionally called them, mostly his sister and one of his brothers, but surviving family states that the phone number he called from was different every single time, and usually didn’t have a California area code.

“He used burner phones for everything,” Nathaniel’s sister Samantha told WNDR, a local news station, shortly after his mysterious death. “And he would never tell us what job he did. We asked and asked and Nanda would just say ‘oh, this and that’, or ‘I do contractor work’. Just answers that don’t tell you anything. It was all very mysterious, very secretive. You know, we talked about how maybe he’d gotten into drugs or something, but my brother wasn’t a drug user, ever. It just seems so out of character for the brother I knew.”

“He was always reading his Bible when we knew him,” Younger brother Timothy stated. “But you know, I asked him once if he had found a home church wherever he was living, and he laughed and laughed. Then he just said, ‘they’d have a lot of opinions on how I live my life if I did that’, and changed the subject. So I knew whatever he was doing, it probably wasn’t good.”

There has been a lot of speculation by investigators that “Nanda” had indeed picked up employment within some kind of drug smuggling group at this time. Evidence found after his death has even opened the possibility that he worked as a high-end hitman.

There’s a lot of international travel during this time period, far more than can be accounted for unless travel was part of his workplace responsibilities. Employment records show him working as a sales manager for a company called Sunrise Investments, but this is believed by many to be a shell corporation hiding something much, much darker. 

However, all of this remains speculative, and there’s never been any proof that Nathaniel Benson did anything but the financial sales the company claims. No one ever did much work with him, and other employees at the company stated contact with him occurred entirely by phone and fax (and then e-mail) at this time. 

When investigators pored over the documents after getting a warrant, they weren’t able to find anything suspicious - and that in and of itself seems suspicious to some.

For years, Benson seemed to simply drop off the map entirely when it comes to local information - investigators did find that he owned a vintage Corvette that he fixed up himself (found via vehicle registry and taxes listings, which is public knowledge), and that about two years before his death he bought a large five-bedroom house with a basement in Dosaba, which he renovated in total secrecy. I was able to find records of him paying home taxes through his mortgage company, and that he spoke to local contractors and building companies, paying for consultations about the renovations he undertook. 

None of the companies he spoke to kept any kind of detailed notes about these consultations, but you’ll see why it’s relevant when I discuss what was found after his death.

Nathaniel Benson’s life came to an abrupt end on August 16th, 20XX, but nobody would find his body for more than two days. 

On August 18th, his cleaning lady arrived for her usual weekly visit to discover him crumpled at the foot of the stairs, face-up. She called 911 immediately and first responders arrived within twenty minutes to her white-faced and nearly silent. 

First responders noted that Nathaniel’s eyes were closed, unusual for a violent death. A wet cloth had been laid over them to help them stay that way. The medical examiner stated later that this would have to have been done within the first hour after he died, before rigor mortis could stiffen muscles and lead to them opening again. 

That whoever witnessed his death knew to do this is deeply unusual, and may be a sign of affection or grief. 

The autopsy found that Nathaniel had met his end approximately 36 hours before he was found, and had died due to an undiagnosed heart defect that had resulted in cardiac arrest. 

Sounds like any sudden death that can simply be written off as sad but natural, right? Well, there’s a few details that make things a little murkier than that, and have led to his death being listed as “undetermined” officially, and possibly including foul play.

For one thing, Nathaniel hadn’t simply collapsed next to the stairs - he had fallen, or been pushed, and showed evidence of bone fractures and head trauma consistent with the fall. A bit of blood was found on one step that came from his injuries. This head trauma would likely not have been fatal if he had received medical attention, but cardiac arrest ensured death even if head trauma didn’t. 

Did Nathaniel Benson suffer a heart attack and fall down the stairs, dying only when he reached the bottom? Maybe. 

Or maybe he really was pushed, the shock of it is the reason he went into cardiac arrest. 

There’s one more unusual fact that makes foul play a possibility in this mysterious death. 

Nathaniel Benson owned a legally purchased Box Boy, no known legal name, who went by his original purchase number: 334235. The Box Boy was a Romantic designation, and was purchased from Facility 001 in Berras, a city in Southern California, where the WRU headquarters is located.

WRU, when contacted by investigators, easily agreed to meet and provide detectives with information regarding the Box Boy’s purchase, as well as the DNA and fingerprint samples the company keeps on file. 

According to WRU’s internal records, this Boxie was not only a designated Romantic, but a specialty Romantic, trained for ‘masochism’. This tracks with multiple books on, shall we say, somewhat salacious interests that Benson had for his love life.

As Benson never seemed to date anyone or maintain a relationship, it’s theorized that the Boxie was his way of dealing with the stress of his work. WRU noted that Benson had contacted them after the purchase was complete to give his compliments on the Boxie’s training and note that he was ‘perfect’ and they ‘got along just fine’. 

The Box Boy’s fingerprints were found all over the house, which is totally normal. He was living there full-time, after all. But investigators also located something a bit more unusual: a secret room within the home that the cleaning lady had never seen before, hidden behind a carefully camouflaged door.

This is what Benson had been working on when he ‘renovated’ his newly purchased home: He built a secret dungeon room with stone walls and a concrete floor, outfitted with a dip and a “drain”, plus a garden hose hooked up on one wall. 

The room also had rows upon rows of cabinets full of various tools consistent with a ‘hard BDSM lifestyle’, according to one detective. I wasn’t able to get ahold of the actual list of items found, but was able to determine that whips, knives, ‘unspecified implements purchased from adult stores’, and other things were found.

Tests done on the walls and floor showed that blood had been spilled nearly everywhere in the room at one time or another, and large amounts of it. There was also evidence of blood found in Nathaniel Benson’s bedroom, primarily on the floor and in the bed. A small faded stain was found on the headboard just below a set of cuffs hooked into it.

A few small dried bloodstains were also found around the master bathroom sink, and investigators were able to determine the blood matched the DNA of the Box Boy, and was left there much more recently than the rest of the blood in the house, possibly even on the day of Benson’s death. 

Here’s the thing, though: the Box Boy himself was nowhere to be found. 

Was this Box Boy tired of being used as a human pincushion? Did he take matters into his own hands and commit the ultimate crime a pet can do, killing his owner? If he did, he no doubt knew what happens to pets who kill their owners, usually either being ‘put down’ or wiped clean to be resold.

Is our Boxie a killer right from the start? Or was he only a witness to a natural death who panicked and ran away?

Without locating the Boxie himself, it’s impossible to know.

The cleaning lady remembered him, and gave a description: Somewhere between 5’8” and 5’11”, wiry but with some muscle, usually dressed in just a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt when she was in the house. He has short dark hair, brown eyes, and an angular face. She mentioned visible scars on his arms, but none on his face. She was told to call him only “pet” if she needed to speak to him. She stated his voice was slightly hoarse and rough, as if he had a sore throat all the time. 

They had only one significant interaction, where the cleaning lady inquired about a large bruise on the Boxie’s face and bandages on his arms. He apparently told her, at the time, that he ‘liked the reminer’, but thanked her for asking after his health. They never spoke directly again. 

The detail about his face being unscarred will become incredibly relevant in parts 2 and 3.

Neighbors, when asked, mentioned that they had seen someone matching that description walking away from the house somewhere around 4 and 5 pm on August 16th. The medical examiner believes Benson died around noon, so this leaves about four or five hours between the death and the Boxie leaving.

He appeared to be walking very quickly and one neighbor noticed he was holding what looked like crumpled cash in one hand and a plastic shopping bag in another.

He was spotted waiting at a nearby bus stop, and footage from a camera mounted inside the bus shows someone matching the Box Boy’s description riding the bus all the way into Dosaba’s historic, artsy downtown. There, he was again captured on CCTV purchasing a one-way train ticket with cash. The train station employee who sold him the ticket remembers offering him a round-trip ticket for a discount, which she always did anyone who asked for a ticket to another city, only to have him “nervously” say he wouldn’t need to come back. She mentioned that he scratched at the side of his neck, and that when he walked away, he looked like his shoes were a little too big for his feet.

It is believed, as Nathaniel Benson was found barefoot but wearing clothing that suggested he had been outside doing yard work just before his death, that the Box Boy stole his shoes.

The fleeing Box Boy is captured one more time on camera as he arrived at his destination, Red Hills, approximately a two-hour train ride to the south. He walks past the CCTV quickly, hunched over as if trying to hide his face.

After that, he disappears.

Red Hills is a significantly larger city than Dosaba, with nearly a million residents within city limits and another 600,000 filling its suburbs and outer neighborhoods. Red Hills is a city that has seen better days, and it would be easy for a runaway Box Boy to simply fade away into its seedier districts. While Red Hills has had more than a dozen runaway Boxies picked up over the years, mostly Romantics who engaged in prostitution to make ends meet, it’s not believed that Benson’s Box Boy knew this when he chose the location.

As Romantic Boxies usually can’t read, it’s believed he simply chose a location he’d overheard someone else say, knowing nothing about what he would find when he got there.

Two days after his death, Nathaniel Benson’s debit and credit cards, Driver’s License, and a folded-up note he had written to himself about buying toothpaste were found in a plastic shopping bag tied-off at the top, were found inside the bus the Boxie had ridden, stuffed between the edge of a seat and the wall. The Boxie’s fingerprints were on everything.

But the Boxie himself wouldn’t be seen again until more than a year later.

Nathaniel “Nanda” Benson’s death for a time remained a one-off unsolved mystery. A little on the unusual side, but entirely possible that no foul play occurred, just some details that need filling in.

The shocking murder of a Red Hills man known locally as “Brute” would bring this Box Boy back into law enforcement’s line of sight, and open up questions about whether the Box Boy had simply been running away from Nathaniel Benson’s death… or leaving to find a new victim.

I’ll post Part 2, about “Brute”, shortly! Then Part 3 will be about a third murder, in which our potential Box Boy serial killer takes out… another serial killer. 

I told you this one gets interesting.

-

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @burtlederp @whump-tr0pes @raigash @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @eatyourdamnpears @boxboysandotherwhump @whumptywhumpdump @whumpfigure @outofangband @thehopelessopus @downriver914 @justabitofwhump @butwhatifyouwrite @newandfiguringitout @yet-another-heathen @nonsensical-whump @endless-whump @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whumpiary

[kaypeace21]

Analyzing the 5 plays in this drama club poster .From the bts pics of stranger things 4.

So... some of ya’ll know I'm going through the st s4 films given to us by the official st twitter + the films reffed in the show itself or mentioned by the Duffers in interviews .

So I decided to look at the plays mentioned here. Because even if we don't see the monologues in the show directly - the Duffers wouldn't name drop anything unless it inspired them in some way. Similar to films name dropped in the show. Tw : for some dark themes .

This is just a quick little analysis I decided to do since we probably won't get any new st content today (3/22). Nothing too deep. Just mentioning things that caught my interest especially cause these plays have a lot of narrative connections to the st s4 movies I've been watching.

Invitation to a march (Authur laurents)

Reminds me of the stancy/jancy love triangle. "A young woman is having second thoughts about doing the right thing and marrying a respectable , rich, kind, young man with good prospects.By way of a prewedding diversion, this woman becomes interested in the passionate but poor and entirely unsuitable son of a local landlord.Basically, the plot concerns the efforts of Norma Brown to choose between a conventional fiance who "puts her to sleep" but is wealthy (like what her own mother did) or go for this new-poor guy. The play is principally interested in how this youthful love triangle affects the three mothers involved (whether the kids like it or not)

12th night (Shakespeare)

 - viola (el) wrongly assumes a family member (hopper) is dead. She dresses up as a man named 'cesario'. A girl named Olivia falls for 'cesario' (violet dressed as a man). "Finally, when 'Cesario' and Sebastian (violet's twin brother: assumed to have drowned - Will) appear in the presence of Olivia there is more wonder and confusion at their physical similarity. Taking Sebastian for 'Cesario', Olivia asks him to marry her, and they are secretly married in a church. Cough if Olivia is 'straight' cause she fell for Viola (as a doppleganger dressed like her twin brother).Mike being into el who multiple characters in s1 said looked like a boy and specifically like Will is...suspish and a hint he's not straight lol. just like Olivia they're both into guys . plus, this play just has a butt load of love triangles (ugh i hated that aspect). There was also romantically coded letters (which was in the s4 films) . One character is also thrown into an insane asylum and framed as 'insane'.'Pretending that Malvolio is insane, they lock him up in a dark chamber. Feste visits him to mock his insanity'. We all know the psych hospital will be narratively important- talked about it more here.

The seagull (Anton Chekhov-russian)

similar to how I believed s4 will show m*#even already broken up since the months between s3-4 : act 3 (s3) ends with Nina begging for one last chance to be with Trigorin before he leaves/moves away. They kiss and make plans to meet again in Moscow.And in act 4 there's a timeskip where it shows they've been broken up for a long time between acts- and its established they never actually loved eachother. Do i even have to spell out why this parallels the m*#even ending in s3? There is also a play within the play (this is common in a lot of the st films- they have plays- or a story within a story- which illustrate certain themes or emotions of the characters within said film : blackswan, children of paradise, highschool musical, Rushmore, book of Henry, welcome to marwen, never ending story, romancing the stone, wet hot American summer, etc).The play is Konstantin's latest attempt at creating a dense symbolist work. There is also alot of love triangles in the seagull. TW!: for se#ual ab*se/su*cidal thoughts/ inc*st (here and in other play segments). The seagull motif reminds me a lot of Jonathan's rabbit story.Konstantin romantically into Nina shows up to give her a gull that he has shot. Nina is confused and horrified . Trigorin sees the gull that Konstantin has shot and muses to Nina on how he could use it as a subject for a short story: "The plot for the short story: a young girl lives all her life on the shore of a lake. She loves the lake, like a gull, and she's happy and free, like a gull. But a man arrives by chance, and when he sees her, he destroys her, out of sheer boredom. Like this gull."  This immediately reminded me of jon's rabbit story and some of the movies on the s4 list . Like in forrest gump- Jenny (who is poor) was se*ually ab*sed as a very young girl by her father. As a child she runs away into a field-away from her alcoholic father yelling at her -there she prays that she can "be a bird so I can fly far far away" .

Jenny as an adult struggles with this unresolved trauma- being with ab*sive partners, doing dr*gs, and having su*cidal thoughts . She as an adult when contemplating su*icide, jokes 'you think i can fly like a bird ?' while looking down at a bridge.God-i'm worried about jonathan (Jenny was also a musician sort of like jon). In another s4 movie example ' mystic river ' :(in the 80s) a preteen baseball playing boy is r*ped by men in the woods. He later says he wishes he could become an undead monster to not feel the pain of that experience - cause quote " if I'm not human anymore maybe the pain will stop" (Will) . slightly off topic but he also has another personality, imagines a alternate word that dissappears when he turns his head. And as a less direct animal parallel to the play - the boy from the film also imagined his perpetrators as monsters and wolves to cope.In 'getout' the photographer character sees a dead deer in the woods and it represents a parent/his own childhood tra*ma relating to his past. similarly in 'prince of tides' the 2 siblings as kids were ra*ed by men. The older brother remembered it and the younger sibling developed DID (so didn't remember but she would draw wolves- as the perpetrators/villains in her picture stories she created . In the film they also had an ab*sive dad and were very poor. She also tried k*ling herself multiple times-but started to get better after remembering the source of her pain and trauma.  There is also the theme of multiple attempted su*cides in the play- and the play ends with yet another attempt- and the audience is left unaware of the artist's fate at the end of the play.

The tempest (Shakespeare)

Prospereo - (the perceived antagonist) is a wizard with monstrous looks, storm powers , and ability to create monster-dogs

He wants revenge on a man who tried ra*ing his family member & revenge on his other family member who wronged him years ago. I mean... pretty much my did theory.But in the end.Prospero decides to show his enemies the mercy that they did not show him twelve years earlier. He tells Ariel to bring the men to him, he will restore their sanity and then renounce magic forever.Prospero breaks the spell that the men are under .

Diary of a scoundrel (Alexander Ostrovsky-Russian)

-  I suppose this could loosely relate to Jonathan? Glumov, is a young man from an impoverished family lacking status seeking entrance into society's pampered class. A 19th-century Russian scoundrel must scheme his way out of his meager life in a small apartment -whatever it takes.He has a quick mind and some talent for seeing through the hypocrisies of people around him ( Jonathan does make a lot of social critiques about society). That gives him some advantages. A tale of one man's mission to finagle his way into upper-class society and find a cushy job. Set in 1874, this social comedy follows Glumov, a Russian youth who begins his ambitious ascent to social esteem. He progresses by wit, guile and rhetoric. Pitting one stupid person against another, he soon gains his ends. To reach these goals, Glumov will lie, flatter, and cater to the vanities of the wealthy. Unable to contain his disgust with his victims, Glumov decides to relieve his unvoiced satirical comments by recording his schemes in a diary. But he is tripped up by his uncle's wife, to whom he has made passionate love on his way to success. At the end of the play, his diary is stolen and his duplicity exposed, but he can nevertheless suceeds. The author is much more critical about the high society itself than about the main character, so the play keeps attracting generations of directors by opening possibilities for political criticism while also avoiding naming names of the current rulers.The play's aim was to overthrow bourgeois tradition and establish a class-conscious art called eccentricism giving a deliberately comic portrayal of reality.

I suppose I notice some possible commonalities-  besides s3 critiquing the wealthy/capitalism in comedic ways . jonathan since s1 has worried about his family's finances / had some resentment toward the rich . In some of the s4 movies ‘orphan’ & ‘ girl interrupted’ someone reads their diary out loud to get at them (in girl interrupted the winona character’s diary even had critiques of her new friends).  Alot of movies also have someone (usually a teen/young adult) making a documentary about their life -which could narratively replace said diary? A few movies have a poor guy adjusting to snobby rich social circles (or being poor and then getting money)- titanic, kingsmen, karate kid, the craft , godfather,  wardogs,into the spiderverse,flashdance, and many others . And movies like wardogs has a poor-young-character do shady things to finacially support his family . There’s also that whole uncle’s wife thing- which makes me uncomfortable for obvious reasons (but I’m just thinking of Lonnie’s creepy gf who was into him). A few movies had the guy’s step mom innappropriately hit on him- orange county & you got mail. And him trying to avoid her advances. Or...not to mention ... it may be a problematic coincidence /trope. But in enter the void -the guy who needs to finacially support his sibling/ does dr*gs -hooks up with his dr*g dealing friend’s married mom (who would give him money).  Or in gilbert grape- the poor teen-who has to finacially support his siblings/single mom-has his endgame relationship be a girl his own age. But before that he h*oked up with a married woman -who would give him money. Don’s plum -young film guy-propositioned by older female film director (for dream job). Not even mentioning the other films that have the guy hooking up with toxic older women (like ‘the graduate’). Or analyze this-where the therapist accuses him of having an Oedipus complex (not touching that one... but the guy in ‘enter the void’ a 100% had one). It’s possible those movies were just- inspo for s3?  A coincidence? Or s3 was foreshadowing for this in s4- but unlike s3 it will accurately be played as wrong  and a sign of Jonathan recreating past tra*ma caused by Lonnie (cough like the photos) /being desperate for money. And not played ‘comedically’ like how it mostly was in s3. But shown as self destructive  (for Jon) and immoral on the Woman’s end. Like... Billy and Jon are character foils. Both are older siblings into rock music, with ab*sive dads who shoved them into walls. Both lose it (and beat steve to a pulp when Steve accidentally triggers their daddy issues). In s3 it’s established womanizer Billy has mommy issues, than he tries ho*king up with someone his mom’s age, and the characters ref ‘back to the future ‘ and Steve incorrectly says it’s about “alex p keaton trying to bang his mom.” This could illustrate his subconscious issues with parental figures/adults cause of Lonnie’s  possible past se*ual ab*se . One film the friend even says to the guy “you don’t have friends!” guy b: i have friends! him:  no you have acquaintances! ADMIT IT! YOU’RE AFRAID OF MEN!I mean-Jonathan liked Nancy- but he initially hooked up with her cause he wanted to prove he didn’t have ‘trust issues’ from his dad. Also it’s prob a bit of a reach (and maybe a coincidence)- but the fact Murray in the same breath compares Steve (Nancy’s then bf) and Lonnie  ... uh... if you think too long about it ... it’s very sinister .  Especially because in s3: muray tells Joyce  that despite her wanting to be with a nice guy, she’s curious about “the brute” Hopper despite him reminding her of a past “bad relationship”(aka Lonnie). Like- yeah connect some dots.  Quite a few films (other than forrest gump) also have the character who (as a kid) was  r*ped by their dad/parent-  begin to do dr*gs/be pr*miscuous as adults since they never learned to properly cope with their trauma (’girl with the dragon tattoo’,  ‘black swan’, and ‘magnolia’). Unfortunately the whole relative doing such things to kid-relatives is in at least 30+ movies. 

Personally, i would be MUCH happier if Jon had a age appropriate romance- and had not a single creepy adult near him. A few movies actually imply Lonnie gets yet another ‘new model’  replacing his gf in her 20s with a new gf- who is ‘barely l*gal” and just turned 18. so there’s that possibility as well- that she’s jonathan’s age.I just want Jonathan-happy &safe. GOD. IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?

[eeunoia]

ENHYPEN Imagines

súton

súton; the approach of death or the end of something.

lee heeseung, a high-paid hitman was assigned for a new mission to kill somebody. he didn’t think of it as much of a big deal not until he saw the picture of his past love interest inside the folder.

genre: angst

warning: mention of guns, blood and death

word count: 3.9k

a/n: this was requested to me here and when i first saw it, i knew it was a good plot so I couldn’t really waste it. i don’t know if i wrote it well but i hope i did. i think the plot kind of changed a little and i’m so sorry for that. i hope you like it anon, please message me if you did! 🌸

with slow and heavy steps, heeseung wandered through a very quiet and dark alleyway that leads him towards an old apartment building. it was old, rusty and shabby that normal people won’t really have interest in it. but for people like him, it’s a perfect place to stay in.

as he slightly stretched his tired arm, heeseung made his way inside his apartment only to be greeted by one of his acquaintances. he seems to be a bit surprised to see him back earlier than expected.

“oh, hyung! you’re back already.” he stated something very obvious. heeseung eyed him and gave him a small nod before walking his way at the sofa not talking much.

“did you finish the job?” he asked curiously. heeseung’s eyes lazily trailed from the carpet up to the innocent looking eyes of the person in front of him.

“yeah, otherwise i won’t be here in front of you, jake.” he answered. the boy’s mouth went ‘o’ at the realization and smiled at him brightly.

“you finished the job pretty quickly, hyung! as expected from lee heeseung!” heeseung was silent as he showers him with compliments.

it may appear amusing to him right as of the moment but for heeseung, it had come to the point that it became plainly boring. as he looked over the boy in front of him who’s very excited, he kind of remind him of his past self. back when he still hasn’t kill a lot of people. 

so far, his first assignment was the most memorable mission he had. as it almost fail because he lets nervous and fear took over him. he find himself very pathetic whenever he remembers that time. after all the trainings and all, he thought he was beyond ready for his first shot. but even before he can pull the trigger, his conscience took over and he halted. 

the target almost left but thankfully he finished the job. he vomit a lot after that. he even had to re-think his life decisions after that but realizes he doesn’t have any much choice but to continue that job.

“before i forgot, hyung! a mail arrived for you yesterday.” jake marched towards a pile of mails and rummaged over it to go look for the one he’s talking about.

heeseung eyed him waiting for the said mail. he have a feeling that it’s from the organization, probably another job. he cursed inside his mind thinking that he just finished a job and here’s already a new one. they aren’t giving him any break.

“found it!” he sounded so excited as he walked towards heeseung while smiling and holding a mail.

heeseung muttered a small ‘thanks’ and carefully unwrap the mail.

“who delivered it?” he asked jake who’s just beside him, it looks like he’s curious too to what’s inside the mail.

“yeonjun hyung did.”

heeseung just gave him a small nod as he saw a familiar folder inside. this folder indicate who’s he’s next target for the job. he was used to it actually, but sometimes he thinks about until when does he needs to receive this kind of folder?

the phone rang so jake stood right up and left heeseung to answer it. heeseung on the other hand was just starring right at the folder. he doesn’t know but he suddenly have this unexplainable feeling inside of him. it was just the folder for his job and he was so sure that he’s used to it. not even once does he feel nervous to know who’s he’s target. but today seems to be different...

as he carefully lift the cover of the folder, he was dumbfounded to find the picture of the person inside. his jaw clenched as his mind wanders off to somewhere. he doesn’t know how to react when he saw someone’s picture, not just familiar but someone he really knew. it was no other than you, his only ex-girflriend.

it was past 2am when heeseung silently followed your car droved through the silent road. it was raining and he waited for almost 8 hours for you to leave your apartment. this is the first day of him watching you before he fulfill his job.

heeseung knew for a fact that even though after ending everything between the two of you and after cutting all of the ties, deep down his stoned heart, he still have feelings for you. but from now on, you are not the y/n he loved but the y/n that he needs to kill.

his brows furrowed at the sight of an unfamiliar road that you were taking. the road leads you out of the city and the sight of buildings slowly turned into big trees and the houses were starting to be apart from each other. in the  years of being with you, he never knew you know somebody here.

heeseung’s car slowed down at the sight of yours stopping. it was a long drive that it’s already 7am and the sun is now brightly shining above you. he sat back silently watching you as you went out of your car in front of this property.

he watched as you gracefully hang some hair strands over your ear and brush away some of it. you still didn’t change, your angelic face was still there and you still wear that expression of yours that makes you look so innocent. heeseung used to love that face.

his eyes darted over to a bunch of kids who’s running towards your direction. with a big smile and open arms you crouched down to hug them all. screams and giggles from the children and you quickly erupted. heeseung was just watching this unfamiliar side of you. it wasn’t the first time he saw you interact with kids but this is the first time again after splitting away from each other.

his eyes observed the surrounding and realized that you’re at an orphanage. he didn’t know why you’re here and he also didn’t know that there was an orphanage here. the place was very far from the city.

heeseung eyed your direction once more before he carefully drove his car away trying to look for a place to stay in while he watches you.

after finding a place, he sneaks back over and even roamed around the place. he’d saw the kids at the wide yard play together while you watches over them. you were smiling and it seems like you’re indeed enjoying yourself. heeseung quickly looked away right after seeing you smile. he knew to himself that he shouldn’t let his emotions took over him. he’s just doing his job.

night came faster than expected and as heeseung saw you walked outside alone, wearing a hooded jacket and your pants, he secretly followed behind you. you walked through a dark and quiet route bravely like as if you’re just taking a stroll over somewhere safe. 

as you both slowly far from the orphanage, heeseung halted as you stopped from walking and just stood still.

“i know you’re there, lee heeseung.” you said that made heeseung let out a sigh and slowly reveal himself from where he was just hiding.

“how did you know?” he asked and slowly walked towards you but still kept his distance. you turned around facing him. he met eyes with you and your features reflect from the light of the bright moon above both of you.

“saw your car following me.” you stated like as if it wasn’t a big deal.

he was left silence, doesn’t really know what exactly to say. you sighed and sat down over an old wood bench. heeseung carefully watches your every move.

“what are you doing at a place like this, y/n?” he asked and put his hands inside his pocket. your eyes trailed from him over to the beautiful moon.

“shouldn’t I be the one to ask you that, heeseung? why are you here, following me?” you asked him then looked straightly to his eyes.

heeseung kept his blank face despite the feeling of his chest tightening as he answered you.

“I am here to do my job.” he simply answered. he knew you understand what he’s trying to say. with a soft chuckle you lower your head.

“am I that important now that they sent the great lee heeseung to kill me?” you even followed it with a chuckle then looked back at him.

heeseung was serious and silent. he’s kind of pissed that you’re reacting this way even after knowing the fact that he’s there to kill you.

“so why are you here, y/n? why still go here when you already know i am following you?” heeseung leaned over a big tree beside him.

he saw you smiled a little as you turn your gaze back at him, “well, i thought i could use some fresh air before doing my job.” you said while still eyeing heeseung. you were smiling while he’s still keeping his straight face.

“you’re not the only one employed here, heeseung.” you even added and chuckled a little.

heeseung was still serious, “then why not go and observe your target now so you can do the job cleanly?” he asked still curious. he still find it odd for you to be here.

“oh don’t worry...” you said while facing down. heeseung looked at you with now furrowed brows. you slowly raised your head to meet his eyes and he doesn’t know if it’s just his mere imagination or he really did saw sorrow flickered through your eyes.

“I am pretty sure my target will follow me here.” you added.

“so you were tasked to kill me?” that came out more of a statement than a question. you scoffed and just nodded your head once.

you were dumbfounded to know that heeseung’s next target was you but it was more surprising when you were given the task to eliminate heeseung. your boss told you that he’s becoming a hindrance to your organization’s jobs. he was known for keeping it low and it’s almost impossible to track him down. it’s even impossible to know who’s his next target and when’s he’s gonna execute them.

you thought this was the worst way to have a reunion with your ex-boyfriend. the last time you saw each other was the night you decided to end everything between you. problems were slowly getting riled up and both of your works were going in the way. 

you both did tried to work things out since you knew pretty well that the love you both have for each other were not just petty emotions. it was something deep that no one else can get and understand but the two of you.

“uh-huh. and I also know that i’m your next target so I knew you’ll follow me here.” you said that made heeseung confuse.

“how did you know that you’ll be my next target?” he asked wondering.

“is it important?” you asked him that made him shut his mouth for a while.

even before heeseung can say something, you interrupted him.

“so when will you plan to kill me?” you asked him like it was just a normal matter, like as if that job doesn’t include any of you dying.

heeseung inhaled heavily, “in three days? i don’t know. when do you want to die?” heeseung can’t feel anything anymore. looking at you right now made him realize that you’re someone from his past, someone he used to value other than himself.

you chuckled at how straightforward heeseung was, “three days sounds good but don’t expect that i’m the only one dying.” you said while eyeing him straight to his eyes.

he gave you a small nod as both of you snapped your head towards the side when you heard someone calling out your name. you sighed then stood up treating that as a signal to go and leave heeseung for now.

“that’s my signal, see you in three days.” you gave him a small plain smile before you started walking away from him.

you’re not gonna lie, the heeseung you just faced with is very far from who you’ve loved from before. it looks like he became like the heeseung that he is while he still haven’t met you. when you first met him, his eyes were cold and blank. you knew for a fact that he also kill people for a living, and his name is kind of popular.

but he changed when he met you. he started laughing and expressing other emotions when he’s with you. you two were happy despite the differences you both had. it was unexplainable how love just bind you both without fail.

when you turn around to look at the place where you left heeseung, he was already gone. you gulped then faced forwards as you let your emotions to take over your system once again after so long. tears took over your eyes as your chest aches of pain. mixed emotions were over your mind, not really knowing what you feel exactly.

unsure of many things, there’s only one thing that you know for sure, that if there is some who can finish the job, it would be heeseung.

heeseung’s eyes snapped open as he heard the clicking sound from the door of the room he’s currently staying in. it was midnight and he was pretty sure someone’s trying to enter the place.

with careful and silent movements, he reached over the gun under his pillow. his steps can’t even be heard as he slowly walked over the door and hid behind it.

the person at the other side seems like good with picking locks at they succeeded in opening the door right away. with fast and firm moves, heeseung got his gun pointed at the person’s head.

“don’t move or i’ll blow your head.” he said. 

you turned around and that just hit him, that it was you who entered his room. his brows furrowed at the sight, n “how did you know where i stay--” he was cut off by your sudden embrace. he was defenseless as his hand holding a gun backs up and just hang beside you.

“heeseung did you ever loved me?” one sentence and he knew that you were drunk. he sighed and used his free hand to hold your waist since you’re kind of losing your balance.

“y/n, you’re drunk!” he said but he was stunned as he heard muffled sniffs over from you. you were crying.

“did you ever love me, heeseung? because i loved you.” he shrugged it off and cursed and put his gun over at some drawer before he carried your crying ass. he placed you over at his bed then pulled a chair to sit on.

“you seriously have death wish, y/n. why did you come here?” he asked pissed off. it was midnight and the last thing expected to be his intruder was you. when you know for a fact that he was sent to kill you.

coming there without having any thing to defend you other than you’re crying face was both stupid and genius. heeseung knew you know how he hates seeing you cry. 

“when i told you years ago to just come with me and ran away from all of this shits we wouldn’t be in this kind of situation! I wouldn’t be miserable because i have to kill you.” you ignored what he just said and just continued blabbering your unsaid thoughts to him.

he ran his hand over to his hair as he watched you cry in front of him. pursing his lips and leaning both of his elbows over at his knees, he starred right at you.

“and i also made it clear to you that leaving this job was not as easy as you think. you thought they’ll just let us go once we went missing? no! leaving this job is like wishing for a bullet to be fired into our heads. they’ll hunt both of us down!” he was frustrated too. he’s mind was occupied ever since he saw your picture over at that stupid folder.

he let out a sigh as he kept his sorrowful eyes at you, “and I’m meant to kill you.” his voice almost broke as he said those words to you.

“i would rather have both of us hunt down than to fill my hands with your blood.” tears desperately fell from your eyes as you whale after. you couldn’t contain your emotions anymore.

just by thinking that you both have to kill each other hurts you so much. he was someone you valued and it you didn’t thought you’ll reach this point.

“i’m sorry.” heeseung muttered lowly as you watch him approach you closer. with confused eyes you look at him but lets him  get closer.

it was so sudden that you didn’t even see it coming. feeling pain strike you made you realized that heeseung just punched you over your stomach to get you unconscious.

and as your surroundings turn blurry, you felt his hot breath brushed over your ears as he softly whispers something.

“i did love you, y/n. you were the only person i cared about in this world other than myself.” and everything just turned black.

with the soft muffled chirping of birds from somewhere awoke you. rubbing your eyes you slowly woken up from your sleep.as you raised your head, you noticed the unfamiliar place and then you realized that you went to heeseung’s place last night.

“good morning,” you heard him talked behind you. while heart thumping faster, you fell back over his bed and lets him rest his chin over your head.

then you felt his arm tightly caging you at your position, “why am i still alive?” you asked, feeling lost.

when you went here last night, you made yourself ready for the consequences of your action. death was right in front of you already that’s why you were a little surprised to be awake and still breathing.

you felt heeseung’s soft lips rested over at your temple, “i said three days.” and he carefully ran his fingers over at your arm.

you gulped shutting your eyes closed feeling his every touch. you won’t lie that this actually still makes you feel safe. even knowing that he isn’t your boyfriend anymore and that he’s now here to kill you doesn’t change anything. you’ve never felt safer anywhere but inside his arms.

you just starred over how the sun slowly rise and greets both of you at the window. it was a peaceful way to start the day.

“did you really mean it when you said you wanted to ran away with me?” heeseung asked bravely.

he didn’t slept a wink last night. you were laid over his bed, defenseless but he didn’t kill you. he doesn’t have the heart to do it but instead, he chose to lay beside you and cherish the remaining time.

you turned and faced him, heeseung rested his head over at his palm as he watches over your eyes.

“i'd leave everything for you.” you sincerely said as you raised your hand to caress his face.heeseung felt warm the moment your skin touches his. he missed the familiar warmth and memories came flashing back as he shut his eyes close.

“i’m sorry y/n.” he was broken, frustrated and full of regrets. but he’s nobody to turn back time. he’s just a sinful person who killed a lot of people for money.

you smiled softly, heart aches for the love of your life. pursing your lips you carefully cupped his face and lead it down on you.

with soft touch of kisses you showered every inches of his face with your butterfly like kiss. heeseung was lost, he doesn’t know what to do anymore. emotions and thoughts mixed up over at his system and he doesn’t know what to follow anymore.

“let’s ran away.” his voice faltered as he said that to you.

heart beating so fast, those surely excites you but you know that you’re suffering won’t end if you do that. all of this just tires you out and obviously had you sick of living. you can’t even call this living! having your name always in the list of the cops and trying hard not to be seen by almost everyone was not the kind of life you wanted.

“we have to finish our job.” you said lowly and lastly pulled his face over at you.you starred right into his beautiful eyes before kissing him over his cheeks then to his lips.

“i’ll see you later.” and you slid away from his touch.before you made it outside you turned and look at him.

“make sure to load your gun with one bullet.”

he was dumbfounded, doesn’t know how he’ll react to this. he thought you’ll agree to him but he guess you were tired of this life too.

his eyes soon darted over his abandoned gun that was still right above the drawer. he stood up and grabbed it.

the night was very cold but heeseung didn’t mind it. he was just there, standing under the bright moon, waiting for you. he got his gun loaded with just one bullet over at his back.

his head raise at the sound of small branches breaking because of steps of somebody. he saw you gracefully walking towards him.with a small smile you approached him. he smiled at you, “it’s cold tonight.” he said. you nodded your head and stopped right in front of him.

carefully, you raised your hand over to his face and caress it softly.

“let’s finish it today, heeseung.”

with a sad smile he responded, “okay,”

you sighed heavily and raised your gun. your eyes were darted straightly at his. heeseung held your hand that holding your gun and pointed it over at his chest.

he raised his and straightly point it to your chest too. you smiled, “on three...”

his eyes never left yours as he tighten his grip over at the trigger of his gun.

“1,”

“2,”

“3,”

a loud bang echoed throughout the silent forest. blood splash all over heeseung as his eyes blinked in surprise. he’s pretty sure he heard and saw you pull your trigger, but why doesn’t he feel anything?

his eyes watered as he watch you smile, almost out of breath. with the last energy left on you, you raised your hand to cup his warm face. heeseung don’t know what to feel as he felt your used to be warm hand slowly turning cold.

“you did well, baby.” coughing out blood after saying that, heeseung lose all his strength and dropped at the floor together with your body.

he lets go of his gun and held your body close to him. your stares remain at his face, “no! y/n,” he desperately called you out.

“i love you and you’re the only one i cared about more than myself, heeseung.” slowly your hand fell together with heeseung’s tears.

he cried out and looked over at your gun. he reached over it while still holding you by his another arm. he point the gun over at his head and clicked the gun but once again, nothing.

his heart sank by realizing that your gun was empty. with tears streaming down his face, he embraced your now lifeless body close to him.

thoughts clouded by so much, pain ate everything in him. heart’s starting to feel numb he shut his eyes trying to convince himself that you are not dead. but it was too late, your used to be warm body that comforts everything in him turned so cold.

“i love you.” voice full of sorrow and despair heeseung cried out desperately feeling helpless knowing for a fact that he lost someone he cherished the most.

[bandgeek4life8]

Guardians - chapter two the lost city of atlantis

Chapter 1

WC: 3, 453

Season 1, Episode 2: The Lost City of Atlantis

Previously on Guardian in Jim's POV "The Nightmares have emerged once more." Pabbie told everyone.

"GREAT GRONKA MORKA!!" Blinky exclaimed.

"And they attend to assimilate an army. They already have the witch Gothel, the bogeyman Pitch Black, the dragon tamer Drago Bludvist with his mother of dragons Red Death, the prince Hans of Southern Isles and Duke of Weselton, the cursed bear Mor'du, the Pirate "Captain Hook" Killian James, and the Boggan Mandrake. And I have a list of who they want. From my visions. But only two people I wish to say it to: Vendel and... James Lake Jr. Because she wishes it."

"Who wishes for me to know?" I asked him.

"Starling."

Some people are chosen for this life and have no choice but to accept its transgressions. Others spend their life completely in the dark about this life we lead. Some, like me, choose to live this life. It is a lot of work for anybody. Not just anybody can get into this life and survive its trials and tribulations. But we were born for this. To become guardians. But I'm not a guardian yet. I'm just an apprentice.

|{[INSERT_OPENING_SEQUENCE]}|

"Welcome to the first meeting of the Druidia Order." I announced.

"Did you have to name us after a planet in your favorite Star Wars movie?" asked the raven-haired time-traveller Wilbur Robinson.

"Spaceballs is not a Star Wars movie, Wilbur." Currently undercover spy, Walter Beckett told him.

Wilbur rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

"Did your dad teach you anything about Star Wars?" asked blonde enpath/ hockey-player from Wisconsin, Riley Anderson.

"Only that he hated the sequels, he loves the originals, and respects what the prequels tried to do." Wilbur said.

"Can we please get to the topic at hand please?" I asked everyone.

Everyone in the room grumbled out a yes and we continued with the precedings. Wow. That sounds way too formal for me.

"Well what can we do? We already made allies with the Arendelle trolls via Elsa and Anna. We had Grand Pabbie alert the Trollhunter of the Nightmares." said Ted Wiggins.

"Which means a group of you have to go find the essence stones." Megamind appeared with a plate of, "who wants cookies?"

"Are you growing soft on us, Meg?" Megamind basically growled at Wilbur for the nickname he used.

"I am trying to babysit Gru's oldest daughter and her friends." Megamind told him looking the kid dead in the eye.

"What do you know of the essence stones?" I asked him, ignoring the intense staredown happening between the two makes.

Megamind turned his attention away from Wilbur only for the time-traveller to blow a raspberry at him and Megamind to turn back and glare at him I rolled my eyes. The same old stupid antics. "I know where you can find the essence stone of the ocean."

"If you tell me we have to befriend Poseidon or-."

"It's in Atlantis." Megamind said.

"Or that." I facepalmed. "And how would you know that?"

"Because I have an evil underwater lair in the city of Atlantis." Cue another facepalm from me.

"And why...? You know what? I don't want to know. So how are we getting there?" I asked.

"It's not a matter of how we, but rather how who is getting there." Megamind said.

"That makes no sense whatsoever, dude." Hiro said as he walked into the room followed by Lucy Tuchi.

"Some of us will go on the mission while the rest research the rest of the essence stones." Megamind suggested.

"You know... your ideas are normally terrible. But this one is actually a good idea." Wilbur told him.

The alien growled. "Easy now, Megamind. When we heading out? And who is coming along for the ride?"

"You, Rayla, Ezran, Callum, Sisu, Hiccup, Jack, Light Furry, Walter, and Toothless." Megamind told us. "And you will leave tomorrow. After school."

"Alright. Before we do anymore planning, I need pizza." I walked over to where Hiro plopped the pizza on.

|{[INSERT_COMMERCIAL HERE]}| "

I cannot believe he has the audacity for this! He knows we're not on the best of terms, and yet he does this." I sighed.

"I'm sure he has a reason." said Hiro.

"It's Megamind. It's a stupid-ass reason." I told him.

Hiro sighed. "But you miss hanging out with Toby and Jim. And you-."

"Don't even finish that sentence. I know what you were going to say." Hiro gapped at me. "I know what you were going to say. Only three people know it. And one betrayed me."

My phone vibrated in my hoodie's pocket and I opened it up to see a text from my grandmother, Margaret. "Is that Marge? What she said?"

"She's wondering about the you-know-what with the you-know-who." I told him. She wants to know about James Lake Jr being the Trollhunter. Grandpa would not be pleased with this anyway. But he's dead. And he doesn't matter.

"You have gym next block right?" I groaned. Of course I forgot. And why of all days did we have to do the Pacer test today!

"And we're doing the pacer test today too!" I would have banged my head on a locker if we weren't coming from History. "Kill me now! Woe is me!"

"Stop being overdramatic. And I'm off my way to Robotics." Hiro said once we got to the hall where we would part ways.

"Don't take over the world of robotics without your team first." I called out to gim.

"Yeah, yeah. Just focus on making chemistry after gym, but preferably during." the smart-ass called back.

I'm gonna kill him one of these days. Just you wait, Hiro Hamada. I grumbled and continued on my way to the ends of the earth. Also known as gym. Because I lack the athletic ability of a worm. My arms are basically noodles before submerged in H20. I got dressed in my PE clothes and walked outside to the bleachers where I plopped myself down on. Gym. The one class I don't have my safety net to catch me. The one block where I feel alone. Completely and helplessly alone.

"Hey, [Y/N]. Mind if we sit here?" asked Toby.

It was just him and Jim. What on Earth are they up to? I scooted some ways away from my spot and patted the spot beside me. Jim took the spot beside me while Toby took the bench in front of us.

"We haven't hung out just the three of us in awhile, huh?" Toby remarked.

"You both seem busy since the semester started. I can't blame you for that one."  I told them. The pair shrugged at me, but it was a lying shrug. I would know. I do the same ones. "Anyway, what are we doing for our History Project, Jamie?" I looked over at him.

"I don't know. Wanna brainstorm some ideas after school?" Jim asked me.

"Can't. I have a family thing." Lying to them has gotten harder since I found out. Hopefully they don't catch. But they're idiots. They won't catch on... I hope. "I can come over tomorrow after school if you want."

"That... Th-th-th-that'll be gr-gr-gr-great." What's with the stammer? It's weird. "Oh, don't forget about Pig Zombies on Saturday."

"Don't worry. I have it all set in my calendar. So, what time is the movie?" I asked them.

Toby and Jim shared a look. Oh that is never good. "We don't actually know."

"Then, what are we going to do about Saturday?" I asked them.

"We're more of idea men." Like they're any close to being men. "Creating a plan is someone else's problem." Of course.

"You two haven't changed at all, have you? I'll get to work on that sometime this evening. You guys still have email, righr?" I asked them.

"Who still uses e-mail anymore?" Toby inquired.

"Good point. I'll just have Lucy drive us to the theater anyway." I replied. "So, how are you and Claire going, Jamie?"

"O-o-o-oh, m-m-me and Claire?" stammered Jim. That's strange.

"Yes, you and Claire. You two are dating, aren't you?" I asked him.

"Oh, y-y-yeah. We're g-g-g-good." Hmm. Peculiar. But Jim's always been like this when pertaining to Claire. Nothing suspicious about that.

I hope.

|{[INSERT_COMMERCIAL_HERE]}|

Jim

"So, you have a study date with [Y/N] tomorrow huh?" Claire teased me while we walked to Blinky's library.

"What-. Wait! You told her!" I exclaimed to Toby who was on my left side.

"Of course, I did. Dude, you've been hopelessly obliviously in love with this girl since she stole your first kiss on the monkey bars when we were nine. And she-."

"She clearly has feelings for you, but she's not gonna act upon them since you know we're fake dating and all that jazz." Claire said.

I sighed. "You're the smart one. Couldn't you have come up with something... um... better?"

"What? Because a wuss like you was going to ask her out if I didn't say we were dating?" Claire asked him, raising an eyebrow at her friend.

I sighed once more. She clearly had a point. And Tobes seemed to catch it too. "He tried to ask her if she wanted to go see Pig Zombie 6 for her sixteenth birthday, but dragged me along with them because he wussed out of calling it a date."

Claire tapped her chin in thought. I do not understand girls. Then, she did the thing where you smack your fist against your hand in an aha! idea moment. Which is what transpired next. "I have a perfect idea for your movie date on Saturday."

"Am I going to regret this?" I asked her.

"I hope not. I'm helping you whether you want me to or not." Yea me! Internal frown.

We made it Blinky's library in which the four arm troll was talking animatedly to Vendell. About Essence Stones? What the fuzz buckets are those?

"Um, what are the Essence Stones?" I piped up.

"The Essence Stones are the only thing that can combat the Oncoming Storm." Vendel explained.

"Which is why we should be looking for them! We already know where one is! The Sea Stone!" Blinky told him.

"I already told you the Starling has this under control. This is her fight. Not ours. We shouldn't-."

"But then why have Pabbie tell us about the resurgence anyways?!" Blinky cut him off. I don't think Blinky has ever interrupted Vendel before. This is a first.

"Because to warn us of an even greater danger, Blinkous!! One that we have to face on our own! As Trolls!" the elder roared.

I never saw a look of fear as intense as the look that crossed Blinky's face when Vendel told him that. A greater danger? Even Aaarrrggghh! and Draal had the same look as Blinky. What did it all mean? Vendel left the library.

"I don't care what the goat says. We're getting the Sea Stone." Blinky told us.

"And how do we acquire it?" asked Claire.

"Hate Gyre." Aaarrrgghh! cried. Oh.

"And where would we find the Sea Stone?" Toby asked. "It's underwater right? And we can't breathe in water? So is it in an aquarium? Washed up on a beach?"

"I'll tell you where when we get to the Gyre." Claire, Toby, and I shared a look before shrugging our shoulders and following Blinky to the Gyre.

When we got there, we reached the Gyre and hopped in. "So, where are we going?"

"Under the sea. In an underwater palace where there is no water inside located in what you humans refer to as The Bermuda Triangle. Get ready for Atlantis." And before the three of us could protest, Blinky put in the coordinates and we zipped off towards... did he really say Atlantis? And the Bermuda Triangle?

But I didn't have time to question it as we arrived in a palace? And our clothes were soaking wet. But we never submerged in water? You know what? I shouldn't question it. Me and my friends huddled for warmth. It'll be awhile before we're dry. But why isn't- you know what? Never mind. I don't care.

"Okay, so where do we go first?" asked Toby.

"We head for the treasure room. The Jewel of Atlantis is the Sea Stone." Blinky told us.

"Why are we wet, but you aren't?" asked Claire.

"No clue." Blinky shrugged his shoulders.

The three of us grumbled but followed after Blinky with Aaarrrgghh! and Draal taking the rear. This is going to be a long evening. Our little group trudged, our squeaky footprints giving our location to anyone who would be here. And I think someone was here. Because a familiar ball of silver and blue was charging at us. Not us. Me. Followed by a march larger greenish-blue dragon.

"Hi, Azymondias." I said to the baby dragon when he jumped into my arms.

"I see you humans have already met the Prince. Starling's Zym seems to like you Mr Lake." the green-ish blue dragon said. Um... do dragons normally...

"YOU TALK?!?!" Thanks for that, Tobes.

"Of course, I do. I'm Sisu. Starling sent me after Little Azymondias to make sure he stayed out of trouble." Why aren't Blinky, Aarrrgghh!, and Draal freaking out about there being another dragon? And the elf being here?

"You six, now-seven, looking for the Treasure Room?" asked Sisu.

I shivered as a breeze went by. Why was there a breeze? We're in a dry castle underwater! This is just too weird.

"We were headed that way right now!" Blinky told the dragon.

Azymondias coughed. Or sneezed? I don't know. But he zapped me and I yelped and I'm... dry? Well alot dryer than before. Uh, thank you. Living dryer thay could kill me at any given moment. But you're still cute. So you're forgiven if you do.

"Well I wouldn't go that way! That's where Meg put his evil lair at." Sisu told us.

"Lair?" "Meg?"

"Meg is what the time-traveler calls Megamind. And he placed a lair here when he was going through his 'evil' phase." I did not know Dragons did air quotes.

"Time Traveler? Like the Doctor? Or Loki?" askes Toby.

"Looks like a mix of Matt Smith and Loki as a tween with too much hair gel. Alright, kids follow me." Sisu told us.

Zym appeared on my shoulder, wrapping his small body around on my shoulder and we followed the hopping dragon towards the treasure room. We had reached the treasure room, avoiding all the traps (that was on the ceiling for some strange reason). We arrived there. And Sisu peered inside before letting us enter. Strange.

But I couldn't help peering over Sisu's sboulder "Are you really angry that the Trollhunter keeps unknowingly stealing your pet?" That sounded like... no it can't be.

"Azymondias is not my pet. My pet sounds like I chose to take care of him. The bundle of zappy madness chose me to take care of him. So if anything, I'm his pet." Please tell me that's not who I think it is. But the-I'm guessing- Startouch Elf looks nothing like her. Not one bit. Well maybe except for the nose. And the eyes.

"You make absolutely no sense. And yet you love him anyway." the other voice said. A male with slick-back hair. This must be the time-traveler Wow. Sisu was spot on.

"Kids, easy now. We wouldn't want this to get into the wrong hands. Not this close to the Cotillion." A brunette male that appeared to be the oldest of the group. Why does he look so familiar to me?

"I have a question for you, pig snout. Meg said you wouldn't be here. Why the hell are you here? And why are you even here?" the elf asked.

"I stowed away because none of you are smart." the time-traveller said.

"Says the royal dumbass." the female elf sighed. "I'm so young and yet I feel so old." she emphasized. I was half expecting her to do a dramatic fall like they always seem to do in soap operas notthatIwatchsoapoperasinthefirstplacethat'sabsurd.

"I already knew that, dumbass." time-traveler said.

"Go on, Trollhunter." Sisu used her tail to push me toward the elf's group to retrieve the essence stone. "Introduce yourself."

And suddenly I stumbled upon the room making the group's attention turn to me. "Um...hi." Cue the awkward wave. "I'm... James Lake Jr? I'm the... Trollhunter." I held out the Amulet of Merlin. I could practically sense Toby and Claire facepalming at this.

"Starling, I think this one is for you to handle." I now noticed the brunette boy that stood beside the other elf. Is that... Callum Schlott?? Um... I hope if that is him, he doesn't tell [Y/N] about this.

"I am the one they refer to as Starling as you must know. And we don't need you here. To help us." The girl's hand were running up and down a strand of her waist length periwinkle hair. [Y/N] did the same thing when she had long hair. Not the time Jim.

"I think we do. Because the Seastone is missing if you've forgotten." the other elf said. She sounds like Rayla. And sort of looks like her too.

"THE SEASTONE IS GONE!?!?!?" Blinky exclaimed.

"Unfortunately so. Now, one advantage turns out to be a setback." I didn't notice the other brunette who had a black dragon that was acting like a cat by his feet.

"Do you have any leads?" asked Claire as she stepped forward.

"Just a Roman Penny. No clue from where though." Starling told us. "Now, I think it's time you kids return to California. Don'tyouthink."

|{[INSERT_COMMERCIAL_HERE]}|

"So Atlantis was a flopp?" I had already told Draal about the whole atlantis situation.

Luckily mom had another night shift at the hospital, so Draal could walk around freely while I made dinner for myself. Elbow Pasta and Meat Sauce it appears to be.

"Yes, it was, Draal." I turned the TV on and started flipping through the channels to find the one I wanted. "At least, I met Starling. She was not what I was expecting."

"Most elves aren't. You humans expect them to be small and cute because of the Claus, but they aren't." Draal told me.

"Actually, I think," I found what I was looking for. The French food competition show the World's Greatest Chef Competiton. "she was the exact opposite of what all of you were saying. Sure she was a tad harsh to us, but I think she didn't want to involve us in the Essence Stones. Like she didn't want anymore added help. I don't know." A knock sounded on the door.

"Were you expecting anyone?" asked Draal.

"Not that I know. Toby and Claire wouldn't knock. They'll just barge on in." I told him.

And before I got to the door, the door opened to reveal a boy with white hair, incredibly pale skin wearing a blue sweatshirt and brown trousers. "Don't be such a pussy, Hiccup." That was Sisu.

"Yeah, we're only here since Zym wants the trollhunter to be his dragon rider and to train him how to combat magic." white hair said.

"Um... what are you doing at my house?" I asked them as I held my wooden spoon in my hand, ready to strike them if necessary.

"You and Punzie would be great friends, squirt." The platinum blonde ruffled my brown hair to make it messy. My hair now looks like the dragon boy's hair.

"We're here to train you. I'm Hiccup. And this is Jack. Jack Frost." Wait. What? I'm lost. "I live over in Berk Manor. And you have wandered in a den where you cannot get out of." the brunnette introduced.

"Which is why Starling didn't want you to get involved. By trying to help us with the Seastone, you and your friends have put a target on your back. Starling didn't want that. But now we have to help you. To train you. Hiccup here is a Dragon Rider. And even though Azymondias isn't big enough to be ridden. He will be. I suspect sooner than you think, so he's going to train you to ride him. And I and many others are going come here to help you train against magic. Since the people who will come after you to kill you will have magic." Jack Frost told me. Now I'm really lost.

"So let's begin."

@trollhuntersfanatic

[possum-rat]

(Y/n) talks to the dead

Previous 

Next

Normally waking up to the Undead hovering over you would scare anyone shitless. But (Y/n) was slightly less startled. "SHI-WHA? WHO ARE? WHAT?" (Y/n) yelps as they fall out of the bed in a mess of blanket and clothes. Two skeletons stand on either side of their bed staring blankly at the opposite wall. Chain mail armor on the one stationed on the left side of (Y/n), and an odd mixture of gold and neitherite on the right. The one on the right turns toward (Y/n) before crouching down as holding out a hand toward them.

(Y/n) takes it hesitantly staring up at them. "Wha?" They murmur as the skeleton nods a slight smile in place. "I'm Violetta Beaux. If that's what you're wondering my dear." They state simply in a soft tone. Violetta then gestures toward the chain mail wearer and says fondly "that's Isidora Blanc" Isidora merely nods as their mentioned.

"Why are you here? I mean- I don't mean to be rude or anything but..." (y/n) trails off confusion evident in their expression. "Clementine told us," Violetta replies gently. Nodding still confused (Y/n) lets the covers fall from their shoulders. Stepping from the mess of blanket under them they walk toward the bathroom.

--

Staring at the mirror intently they sigh. Their once (S/c) now more grey and sunken. Dark purplish rings under their eyes with a crazed look. Reaching their hand up (Y/n) gently presses the purplish-pink swollen delicate skin. Breathing out in pain (Y/n) removes their hand before testing their nose. Nothing seems to be broken, just a little swollen or painful. Pulling out a washcloth (y/n) dampens it and cleans the dried blood from their face.

Feeling slightly better (Y/n) turns on the shower before heading into their 'Room' and grabbing some clothes: a tan trench coat stopping at (Y/n) thighs, a white collared shirt, grayish-black jeans, and long socks with their favorite boots. (perfect for kicking any super straights)

Once finished with the shower they pull on the clothes in the privacy of the bathroom. Mentally (Y/n) thanks themselves for placing the bathroom into a room with a door away from any visitors. As (Y/n) steps out of the bathroom the smell of freshly baked bread greets them.

grinning to themselves (Y/n) notices that Violetta is beside the furnace pulling out a loaf of golden bread. "(Y/n)? Oh hey dear! I made bread. Here take some!" She says cheerfully as she places the loaf on the small kitchen island. Isidora seems to be slightly more emotional than before as she gazes at the bread. Staring at the bread (Y/n) asks "You can make bread?" Isidora replies gruffly "Best at it. She also makes a killer cake."

As Violetta pulls out a giant Long sword she hums happily as she slices the bread with the sword. The whole sight is comical. As (Y/n) takes a slice of the bread they take a bite and proceeds to melt. You know the kind? Like when you eat something so good you've literally just ascended to heaven momentarily-yeah that's what the bread tastes like.

"Told you," Isidora says simply. By the time (Y/n) ate around half the loaf with the other two they've gotten a message from Wilbur.

<WilburSoot> (Y/n) help. Tubbo and Tommy are on a tangent.

smiling slightly (Y/n) stands up from the chair and makes their way toward their chest. Squatting down they pull out their sword and a few potions. Violetta stops (Y/n) before they leave. "Dear take some armor I have an extra unused she's plate and helmet. Stay safe okay hun? Isidora will go with you." (Y/n) nods and waits patiently-well as patiently as one with horrible attention spans can-

"and here you go, hun." She says as she hands an enchanted netherite chest plate and helmet to them. (Y/n's) eyes widen as the heavily enchanted armor falls into their ownership. "You can't-Are-wha-" they stutter as Isidora takes the armor from (Y/n) and gently places it onto (y/n) making sure it fits snugly. "Come on kid. I'm your bodyguard or some shit today. Come on."

---

as the two of them walk into L'manberg Wilbur freezes staring at Isidora. "(Y/n)? Your aware that there's a skeleton standing beside you?" (Y/n) nods and says "Yup. They're my grumpy bodyguard or something!" Isidora did not like being called grumpy apparently as (Y/n) yelps as Isidora punches (Y/n's) shoulder.

"I- uh okay. Anyway, Tubbo and Tommy are over there mind watching them?" Wilbur asks tiredly as he rubs the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

(Y/n) nods and skips toward them happily. "No, He's always like...Psst hey, kid...wanna buy some content? Do we have manhunts? Or speed runs." Tommy laughs as he does a horrible American accent. (Y/n) chimes in "įⱮ Ⱥ ꝈįͲͲꝈƐ φįϚϚ βȺβӋӋӋӋӋ" Tubbo coughs in audio tune before dying with laughter. Tommy does his famous cackle. "What the actual fuck?" Isidora murmurs as she stands a few feet away. Tubbo frowns tilting his head confused his long brown ears flopping down.

"what? I just heard a series of tapping?" Tubbo says confused. "Oh, she just said " what the actual fuck." She's nice that way." (Y/n) says happily.

Isidora frowns while flipping (Y/n) off. "Yeah Love you too bitch." They call grinning.

Tubbo frowns and asks "Wanna go to the nether?" (Y/n) nods but freezes momentarily as everything suddenly grey. Like a cave. But instead of the normal ruggedness of a cave, it's like a box. (Y/n) shivers as they gaze around at the freezing room. A small Fox is curled up in one of the corners along with a brown spotted cow. As (y/n) walks closer the Fox opens an eye before closing it in disinterested. An arrow sticks out from its coat staining the white fur on its throat rusty red.

"Fungi?" (Y/n) asks in awe. The Fox yawns before nuzzling closer to the cow. The cow opens its down brown eyes before giving a soft content "Moo." Gasping in delight (Y/n) cheers "Harold?" The cow thumps his tail before standing up unsteadily and clopping toward (Y/n).

Harold bobs his head as he moves toward them, stopping infront of them he nuzzles into (Y/n's) outstretched hand. As (y/n's) fingers brush over the slightly rough texture of Harold's fur they blink.

The stone claustrophobic-inducing box is no more. Instead (Y/n) is surrounded by people in chairs staring up at a podium. A Man with curly Horns with various golden trinkets stands there. He's clearly slightly hungover.

"That was pretty easy. And you know what I said, the day I got unbanned from the DreamSMP, and the day I said I was running... an election that I won by the way?" The man's voice booms deep and clear demanding to be heard "I said; "Things are gonna change". I looked every citizen of L'Manberg in the eyes and I said; "You listen to me... this place will be a lot different tomorrow." Let's start making it happen. My first decree, as the president of L'Manberg- the EMPEROR! of this great country-! Is to REVOKE the citizenship of WilburSoot, (Y/n) and TommyInnit! Get 'em outta here! Get 'em outta here! You're no longer welcome!"

All though (Y/n) may not understand what's going on they have enough sense to stand up from their seat and bolt. Isidora stands on the outskirts of L'manberg waiting under the shelter of a tree. Isidora straightens up upon seeing (Y/n). She sighs and holds out a hand. Voices of the deceased begin screaming in (Y/n's) head.

"WHY THE HELL ARE YOU LEAVING?

"HELP THEM"

"STAY HOME"

"STAY"

"run"

As Isidora's hand closes around (Y/n's) they're suddenly wrenched from L'manberg, and back home. (Y/n) pulls their hand from Isidora's grip to press their palms into the sides of their head. "Please- make it stop." They whisper. Their eyes claimed shut as they press their back against the wall sliding down. Schlatt's voice echos loudly "Oh, it was so easy! Until further notice... WilburSoot and TommyInnit are merely a memory of L'Manberg. A relic- A relic of the past. A reminder, of the darkest era this country, has ever seen- and I guarantee you all; dear citizens... Tonight, that changes. We are entering into a new period of L'Mangerg- a period, of prosperity! of strength! of unity."

Sitting down for a few minutes they stand up before rubbing their eyes and turning toward the two women and saying quietly "Stay here. Please I don't want either of you to get hurt." they state with a certain authority that none of the three knew (Y/n) possessed. (Y/n) then walks toward their chests before digging out the materials needed. Choosing to take their half-finished crossbow, and sword, along with the armor they were currently wearing, a few potions, and pick along with food, as they walk toward the door they hesitate before returning to the chest and pull out a few End pearls along with their totem.

----

At around 3 am (Y/n) finds a half-assed base. Sighing slightly they duck into the base holding up their hands in surrender as a sword is healed to their throat. It doesn't help that the voices are still shouting. And expressing their distaste or agreement at the current predicament.

"Jesus (Y/n) where the hell have you been?" Wilbur sighs as he makes eye contact with them.

"Went by my base to grab some stuff we'll need. No, we aren't going to my base." They say as they sit atop the crafting table beside Tommy. Leaning back against the wall they glance down at Tommy. He's visibly distressed. (Y/n) taps the air infront of them withdrawing a potion of their own creation they like to call "Anti-Insomnia, sleep your problems away :)"

Pulling out a small vile of it they grab 2 cups that for some reason Wilbur had. Pouring a few drops into the cups they hand them to each of their accomplices saying "It'll help you sleep. It'll take your mind off of it." Tommy nods and asks "Wait you know Greek mythology right? Didn't you and Techno talk about it?" (Y/n's) lips curve into a faint smile at the memories.

they nod and ask "Yeah. I remember that." Wilbur asks "what's your favorite story?"

they nod before thinking. "Eros and Psyche." The words fall from their lips effortlessly. As (Y/n) begins to ramble they stare at the opposite wall.

"Psyche is a princess so beautiful that the goddess Venus becomes jealous. In revenge, she instructs her son Cupid to make her fall in love with a hideous monster; but instead, he falls in love with her himself." Tommy's head lolls before falling against (Y/n's) shoulder. (Y/n) tenses up slightly but upon realizing that it's only Tommy they continue.

"He becomes her unseen husband, visiting her only at night. Psyche disobeys his orders not to attempt to look at him, and in doing so she loses him. In her search for him, she undertakes a series of cruel and difficult tasks set by Venus in the hope of winning him back. Cupid can eventually no longer bear to witness her suffering or to be apart from her and pleads their cause to the gods. Psyche becomes an immortal and the lovers are married in heaven."(More info: here ) (Y/n) finishes their story glancing down at Thomas.

"hey? (Y/n)? How's Lilith doing?" Wilbur asks quietly. (y/n) freezes before rubbing their face and rubbing the faint scar on their neck. "No clue." Wilbur frowns and asks "What'd you mean?" He asks as he shifts to a more comfortable position. "Haven't seen her since she broke our engagement...rather brutally for my taste. Like I understand sure, I may not be the best person but burning down a house then murdering your fiancé? That's a bit much even for me. Like where's the pizzazz?" (Y/n) laughs quietly as they stand up and pull off their coat draping it over Tommy.

Wilbur frowns. "Wait. You only have one life?" He asks. (Y/n) nods as they rummage in their pocket before pulling out a small simple ring with a frog upon the center. Slipping it onto their finger with the other array of various rings they stretch and turn toward Wilbur. "Jesus Christ (Y/n). You need to be careful!" Wilbur chides. (Y/n) narrows their eyes at him before grumbling quietly "yeah yeah."

---

[writefightandflightclub]

Return to Sender: (Richard Alonso Muñoz x GN reader)

What is this? This is 4/10 one-shots/blurbs for my “friends to lovers” event. I’m not gonna share the prompt as it’s spoilery, but it was requested by @sergeantkane​ who is a genius for picking this combo! It’s a prompt about LOVE LETTERS! Omg! And thus, it matches perfectly with Richard (trust me, I had NOT made that connection when I made the prompt list :P). Thank you so much for requesting, Clarke, and I hope you enjoy it. I’m excited about this one!

If you’d like to read/keep track of the other fics, I’m keeping an up-to-date friends to lovers list in my pinned post.

Author’s note: Oh, I really quite like this one. Hope it makes you feel as soft as I did for Richard while writing it! Also- it’s my first bash at writing him, so let me know what you think! Thanks to everyone who helped with film details too: those not already tagged in the post- @prurientpuddlejumper​ @witchyavenger​ @veuliee2​ @waatermelon-sugaar​ @pascal-isaac​

Word count: 4.5 k. So not a blurb, then? :P

Rating: Mature, for light steam (not explicit, but 18+ or out, please!)

Warnings: mentions of food/eating. Mild angst (but it ends well), Steamy. Kissing, brief non-explicit mention of erection. Implied coitus (cut scene). Richard works in a “correctional facility”. Small mention of attempted break-in. If I missed any let me know.

Tagging: @anetteaneta​ @isvvc-pvscvl​ @nowritingonthewall​ @supernovafeather​ (ONLY READ IF 18+)

GIF by @nathan-bateman​

“Have you ever received a love letter?” Richard wonders shyly, without looking up from his crossword puzzle, his long eyelashes fanned out as his gaze dances over the monochrome squares.

Meanwhile, your eyes snap up immediately from your magazine, which you are idly leafing through, a breath catching in your chest.

You bristle at the question, and yet Richard seems either entirely oblivious, or entirely determined not to look-up at you. Perhaps both. So, instead of looking, he simply slurps the dregs of his milkshake, and pushes his plate of waffle remnants further toward the far end of the diner booth.

When he finally raises his gaze – a gentle prompt for you to answer him- his eyes are large and shining under the fluorescent lights as he peers at you over his glass, dabbing at his thick moustache with a paper napkin shortly after.

“No, never,” you state sadly, heeding his prompt with a small smile and a shake of your head. Not even a love e-mail.

“I’m surprised,” he flatters with a cautious smile. And, if you’re not mistaken, his eyes light-up with the faintest trace of desire. The barest undercurrent of passion, which is enough to have your heart beating like a drum. You notice it sometimes; this dull heat emanating off of him. It is a spark which never ignites, however - to your endless disappointment; you would fan that flame if only you knew how.

You swallow. He’s surprised? He can’t be that surprised, you think, a stone sinking through your stomach as you dwell too long on the topic of love letters, and meanwhile, Richard’s attention seamlessly diverts back to 3 across.

“You deserve one,” he says, still looking at the page, but a smile animating his wiry moustache. “A letter.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, a spiralling sadness catching hold of you. Does he not understand what this is doing to you? This painful reminder? “Can we drop it, Richard?” you say tensely, and when his eyes meet yours again, they are even more soft and cautious than usual, causing you to admonish yourself for the bite in your tone.

“Yes,” he says. “Of course,” he smiles thinly, apologetically.

It’s simply the new job, you think. Director of Communications. The man has letters on the brain. Richard is so considerate, that you realise he must not intend to hurt you in dredging up the past; he would never. In a way though, you think, it’s even worse that he brings it up so… casually. You can only conclude he has forgotten that you sent your letter to him at all. Had your heartfelt words, declaring your love, had so little impact on him?

Maybe that’s it. After all, they seemed to have so little impact upon him at the time. What could you expect years later? On the other hand, you -apparently- remain rather sore about the topic, all this time later. It’s natural to be sensitive though, isn’t it? You’d written him a love letter and he didn’t write you back. He didn’t say it back. Didn’t feel it back.

And, perhaps it still stings so much, even all these years later, because you never did stop loving him, even if he never started loving you.

Feeling a sudden, overwhelming haste to leave, you thumb through the pages of your magazine so furiously that the next table turn their heads to look at you, until you find what you were searching for.

“Here, Richard. The article I mentioned. Dramatherapy for people who are incarcerated.”

You fold the magazine back on itself, fobbing it off on him with an unprecedented urgency, hurriedly signalling to the waitress that you’d like the check. The roomy diner booth suddenly feels suffocating, and you want to get out. Meanwhile, oblivious, Richard chuckles at the title of the article -some kind of pun, you recall- as you try to push down the unpleasant emotions surfacing within you.

“Thank you for this,” he smiles, looking up at you earnestly. Looking concerned as he reads the expression on your face. “Are you alright?”

Your eyes fix on the table, where his fingertips inch hesitantly across the surface, hovering moments from yours as he debates whether to extend comfort. You make the decision for him, snatching your hand back from his reach.

“Yes. I’m Fine,” you say, unconvincingly. “Can we please go? I need some fresh air.”

“Alright,” Richard agrees gently. He looks a little flustered, but, now sensing your urgency, he begins to sweep up his papers and to shrug on his jacket. He pulls out a small comb to fix his neat curls in place, and offers you a soft smile. “Maybe we can go to the park next?” he suggests.  

As much as you want to run, you nod, some of your agitation dissipating now that the prior topic seems to be forgotten. “Okay. Yeah. That would be nice.” You school your expression into something calm, and you offer him a reassuring smile as his soulful eyes dance over you, a lingering but unobtrusive concern there.

As you split the check, you tell yourself for the millionth time that being his friend is enough; but even after the millionth time, you can’t quite believe it.

Still, today -Sunday- is your one day with him this week. And, no matter what you can’t have; you’ll take anything you can get.

He’s too dear to you to settle for anything less.

************

One month later:

You crouch in amongst the boxes on Richard’s front lawn. He is having a clear-out, setting out some items for goodwill, and some for a neighbourhood yard sale happening next weekend.

You are having fun assisting him in sifting through various items, occasionally bursting into a fit of laughter when he reveals yet another ill-informed, late night shopping channel “bargain” – usually some new-fangled, scarcely-used exercise contraption, which he proceeds to demonstrate in good-humour, making you fold over clutching your stomach in mirth. Occasionally, as you rifle through the boxes, you’ll be overcome by a pang of sentimentality when he uncovers an item with a memory attached; and -no matter how useless- he usually sneaks said item into his ever-growing “to-keep” pile.

“But this is the picnic hamper we took to Bound Beach Island! For your birthday, remember?”  

“Yeah, Richard, but it’s battered! It has holes! It needs to go.”

“It was a beautiful day. The light and the dunes were beautiful… and… and y-“

“-Oh my goodness, what is this?! Please for the love of God tell me you never actually wore this!”

You work through the midday sun until you come to a tired, dead halt on the grass, finally parking your ass down and wiping your brow. Richard looks warm too, a “v” of sweat soaking his old, oversized “Save the Turtles” t-shirt. No - he really doesn’t throw anything away. You smile fondly, though, remembering his sea turtle phase. Of course, he’d read some article. He always was looking for a cause.

“I’ll make us some iced tea,” Richard announces with a tired puff of breath, looking more spent than he probably wants to admit after shuttling the various boxes. Still, the way his grizzled curls have fallen away from his harsh side-part appeals to you, sitting disobedient and undone on his forehead.

Thinking of him undone, you hear a faint beating of drums sound in your chest.

You ignore the music though, like always, instead smiling gratefully as he heads inside, and you take a second to collect yourself before dragging the nearest box towards you, deciding you may as well continue. This next box is taped securely shut, and you chuckle quietly to yourself when you notice it’s labelled “workout-gear”.

You peel the packing tape away and open it up, scooping out the pile of miscellaneous papers sitting right on top. Beginning to leaf through, you surmise it’s mainly unopened junk mail; mainly garishly printed promotional flyers - from a pizzeria which closed down years ago, you recognise. Probably hastily stuffed in before his last move and never dealt with. Absent-mindedly, you begin to bundle it up for the recycling pile, when a smaller, more humble envelope drops out on to your lap, a hand-scrawled address on the front. The stationary is resoundingly familiar.

In fact, everything about it is familiar.

Your heart hammers in your chest as it immediately dawns on you.

It’s your letter.

The letter you sent him, all those years ago. You’d needed to be apart from him- needed to go away to take care of family, and you simply couldn’t go without letting him know. Letting him know you were in love with him.

The memory is like a slow knife sinking into your chest as you idly turn it over in your hands.

But… It can’t be…?

It’s… unopened.

All the air leaves you lungs.

No. No. It doesn’t make a shred of sense.

You’d spoken to him right afterward, on the phone. The first time he’d called after you left town he’d almost pleaded with you, giving you an unequivocally clear, and endlessly painful answer that he didn’t want what you wanted. What you’d written about. He’d made it abundantly obvious that he simply wanted to be friends. “I- I don’t want anything to change. I want everything to stay exactly like it is between us – please? Can we still talk every day?”

But if he didn’t read it…?

You heart pounds so hard that you hear blood rushing in your ears.

He doesn’t know.

His words didn’t mean what you…

Oh my god. All this time.  

You shoot abruptly to standing when you see him approach, as if you’ve been caught red-handed, guiltily stuffing the letter into your back pocket before he can ask you what it is, an abundance of thoughts screaming in your head.

He hands you the glass of tea, ice tinkling gently, and you take it from him, the coolness shocking your palms.

Assessing what you’ve been up to in his absence, and noting the carcass of another box, Richard glances down at the pile of papers strewn at your feet. He looks suddenly worried for a moment, as if you might have found an old porn stash or something – and he looks just as suddenly relieved when he sees they are more innocent papers, scooping them up from the grass.

“Richard?” you say, your eyes burning a hole in the back of his head, and the letter burning a hole in your pocket as he drops the items into the recycling. He hums for you to go on. “Do you... You know when I moved away...?” your voice is strained, and you gulp hard. “Just before, do you remember getting any unusual letters or... weird post from me?”

“Like what kind of thing?” he asks curiously, turning back to you.

“I don’t know exactly,” you lie, nervously. “I have a feeling I sent you something? A sappy goodbye thing?”

You see him mull it over, combing his impressive moustache with his fingers. “I don’t remember, sorry. But apparently I was drowning in junk mail at that apartment. Maybe it got lost, or returned to sender?”

Despite everything, you exhale a small laugh. In a roundabout way, you suppose it had been returned to sender after all. You look at the ground.

“Was it important?” he asks, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand as he looks at you.

Biding time, you take a sip of your tea while you search for an answer. It’s refreshing.

“It… Uh. It was a long, long time ago. Doesn’t matter now, I suppose,” you muse, masking your sadness, and he nods, looking at least half-satisfied with your answer.

Except, it does matter. It matters more than anything. And, with a sudden, overwhelming need to grab on to the past, you track to the “to go” box, rescuing the battered picnic basket from the pile of junk.

“You shouldn’t get rid of this,” you state, your back to Richard, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your voice falters. You tense as you feel him settle by your side, his hand hovering tentatively at the small of your back but never quite touching. “It was a beautiful day.”

“No,” he insists. “You’re right. I shouldn’t hang on to it.”

His words are like a punch in the gut. You turn your head to your side, where Richard is, your eyes and heart almost overflowing.

Noting your sadness, and connecting it to the picnic basket, he does everything he can to smooth things over, like always. “We can get a new one,” he says, his brown eyes sweet and hopeful and bright.

You love him. You love him still and you can’t help but turn towards him and reach out your arms, dragging him in for a hug.

“No! No, I’m sweaty,” he protests self-consciously, but you don’t care. You just need to hold him, even only for a moment – and, for a moment he stills as you loop around him, never quite clutching you back.

When you pull away though, you could swear that dim spark of passion is present in his eyes again. That spark that never catches, no matter how much or how often or how hard you wish it would. Oh, how you wish.

“Don’t ever change, Richard,” you say sincerely, your voice imbued with fondness. “Okay? You’re a sweet, wonderful man.”

His eyes are immediately soft and bashful again, the colour of his cheeks deepening a little, a crimson undertone blooming under his brown skin.

“Yes. Okay,” he offers, with a nod, his eyes creasing at the corners, and his posture even bolstered by the compliment, you could swear, his chest puffing out proudly.

For the rest of the afternoon, you ignore the unread words in the back of your pocket; but for the life of you, you can’t ignore those drums.

************

One month later:

You bundle the yapping, happy little white dog into your arms, relieved that she’s okay as her little tail happily beats against your arm.

“Are you okay, Lady?” you coo as she nuzzles her snoot into your face, eagerly lapping little kisses on to your cheek. “Thanks goodness, sweet little floof,” you baby-talk as your eyes quickly scan around Richard’s place, setting his spare key down on the kitchen counter.

You’d barrelled across town to get here, after receiving a call about an attempted break-in. His neighbour to the left had your contact details in case of an emergency -it’s not very easy to reach him at work, of course- so here you are. You came to give things a quick checking over, assured that no-one suspicious had continued to loiter. Richard won’t be much longer -his shift has nearly ended, and you’d left him a voicemail so you’re sure he’ll hurry- but you still thought you’d go on ahead of him, especially so that he wouldn’t worry about Lady.

Looking around, thankfully all seems well, and you don’t think anyone made it inside after all. Slowly then, you allow your nerves to calm and your heart to settle, bouncing the little bundle of fur in your arms, and feeding her a treat from the packet on top of the microwave, just in case she’d been stressed out.

Calming, you can’t help but smile as you look around, absorbing all the little details of Richard. You do hang out in his apartment a fair amount, but most often you will meet or sit outdoors, when the weather allows. After all, he loves to feel the sun and fresh air on his face, especially after spending all day cooped-up in windowless rooms. To you though, this Richard-ness is like a breath of fresh air, and you let it all wash over you, drinking in the details of his simple daily routine. The discarded half-plate of frijoles and rice by the sink. The ironing-board piled with identical uniform-issue shirts, pants, and plain white t-shirts. The photos on the fridge door – some of you and him too.

Doing a lap of the living space, you further note the dining-for-one TV table, evidence of his relatively solitary existence, and you can almost see him sitting there. Can almost hear his soft voice relating the far-fetched storylines of his favourite telenovelas. You imagine him chuckling warmly - perhaps shedding a tear sometimes too.

You decide you should pop your head into the bedroom and bathroom to check there too, for good measure, and you set Lady down, the dog trotting along at your heels. Once you’ve done a loop, you sigh, seeking out a fresh task, and you circle back to the sink, scraping his discarded plate and rinsing it, stacking it in the dishrack. Then, you move towards the TV chair, intending simply to sit yourself down and wait for Richard to come home. After all, you’re here now - you may as well say hello; or, maybe you can even prepare him dinner after his long shift, you muse.

As you revisit the small, rickety table, however, your eyes more keenly notice that a bunch of papers are strewn over it, all identical- a series of pastel pink leaves of paper and envelopes.

Letters.

Handwritten, in his familiar scrawl.

Letters addressed to you.

Your brow furrows in confusion, as you wonder what they could be. You don’t want to invade his privacy, of course, but perhaps this is something that’s meant for you? After all, sometimes he leaves you notes when you come over to feed or walk Lady.  

Still, this feels different, and, with a lump in your throat that you don’t quite understand, you pick up one of the leaves at random, skimming the first line, yet feeling only more confused than you did before.  

You see your name at the head of the paper, followed by the words “my dearest love,”, and underneath, some other half-formed paragraphs, scribbled over and crossed out.

No, you shake your head, your stomach flipping over. That can’t be right, you think, even as your fingers scramble for another leaf - for leaf upon leaf, until you piece together what’s going on. Until, with every line you read, fragments of both English and Spanish, you feel as though you are piecing together his heart.

Could it be true? Is this really true?

Your fingers dive for a sheet more developed that the rest, where you see paragraphs of writing, and you devour the words like you are starved of love; for you are, aren’t you? Starved? And yet, you suddenly feel so full. Brimming.

My darling,

There are infinite ways to fall in love. Some are elemental, like a raging fire. A shock of lightning on first sight. Some are slow-burning and constant, the heat of friendship warming your hearth, defrosting your iced fingertips when you come in from the cold.

There are infinite ways to fall in love, and I should know, my heart, as I have experienced every one of them with you.

You can barely read the rest as tears blur your eyes, and your hand comes to clamp over your mouth as realisation sinks through to the pit of you, the page quaking -like a leaf- in your fingers.

You make my heart beat like a drum. When I look at you, I am music, without being played. When you’re with me I am dancing, without movement. If only you would touch my skin, I feel like I would sing. If only you would-

“-Are you safe? Are you alright?” Richard asks from behind you, and you tear your eyes away from the page with a start. You were so absorbed by this swell of beating music that you didn’t hear the scrape of his key in the lock. You didn’t hear his hurried footsteps coming up behind you.  

“Richard,” you suspire, and for once his touch is on you without hesitation, his hands clasped around each of your shoulders, slowly running down your arms, and you nod quickly to reassure him, your mouth opening wordlessly. You’re safe.

His touch is warm through your clothes, and you think he is right- your skin would sing for him too if he touched you. Your love rattles you, like drums beating musically in your chest, pulsing through your body.

Then, Richard clocks your sideward, guilty glance at the pile of letters, and you see his panic instantly surface at the thought of all his unsent and unspoken words laid bare before you. All the pieces of his heart exposed.

At first, he looks apologetic, but then you step forwards a little more, into the circle of his arms. Arms which suddenly fall, unsure, at his sides once again. And, achingly slow, endlessly sure, you lift up you hand and you place it on his chest, over his heart, smoothing over his shirt and over the cool metal of the shield he wears there. You feel his heart really is beating like a drum. His chest is rising and falling beneath your hand, his breath quickened – eyes nervous.

You step a little closer, and your fingers continue their slow crawl, dancing up around his collar, inching further up until your fingers finally brush the bare skin at the nape of his neck, pushing up into the curls behind his ears, your thumb skimming his sideburn. You touch him, with your fingertips, and he does sing for you, a half-choked moan leaving his mouth at your tender caress.

“Richard,” you say breathily, searching his face, eyes openly appraising his beauty. “Don’t worry, sweet man. I love you too.” And, when you next meet his eyes there is no nervousness there. Not any longer. Instead, you find his dark, expressive eyes brewing with adoration, and that gentle but ever ascending note of passion.

“Darling, can I kiss you?” he pleads, his voice dogged by desire, his brow knitting together and his hands slipping bravely to your waist, circling you as you arch into him.

“Yes. Yes,” you say, and his mouth meets yours in a desperate, tumultuous crush. You sing too, your skin thrumming as you finally know the feeling of his thick moustache brushing against you. As you taste the sweet flavour of cherry sucker on his kiss. As you finally feel the texture of his slicked curls beneath your fingertips.

You kiss, urgently, until you are each smiling too broadly to continue, and instead Richard beams and presses sweet, intermittent kisses all over – your cheeks, your forehead, your hair, your neck- his moustache tickling wherever it touches. His hands are everywhere they can be politely, roaming over your back and your arms and your hair, and it feels so good to finally be held like this.

Eventually, he pulls back, his smile no longer tugging at his lips so keenly -lips now kiss flushed with deep colour- but shining in his liquid eyes. “How long have you loved me back?” he asks in a still choked, disbelieving voice.

You bite your lip, but then allow your face to split in a radiant, unrestrained grin.

Always. Always. I loved you first, you think.

You reach for your bag, reluctant to break from him so trailing your love’s hand in yours- and you fish out the letter. The one you’ve carried around since it was returned to you. “Take a look, Richard,” you encourage.

He looks from you to the small envelope, turning it in his spare hand as you pass it to him. “What is this?”

His brows rise in confusion as you tap the stamped postmark with your index finger. Years. Years ago.

“I sent you a letter,” you explain. “Telling you I loved you. That I love you,” you correct, squeezing his hand tightly in yours, amazed at how natural it feels already, to touch him.

He audibly gasps in air, looking pained. Devastated. “I never got it. I would’ve-“, he fumbles for words, but he can’t finish them, the magnitude of all those years lost to yearning too big to wrap his lips around. “I never got it,” he repeats sorrowfully.

You shake your head. “Don’t worry about that now,” you soothe. “I got your letter.” And, as you engulf him with your arms a soft smile takes over his features once again. He can’t help it.

“I’m so glad you did,” he beams, drawing you to him for another kiss, which you eagerly accept, opening your mouth to him.

God, he’s a good kisser, his tongue in you deep and eager, and the heat generated is quick to catch, a fire lit in the pit of you. That moustache is a divine thing too, his lips soft and full beneath, his mild-mannered tongue positively sinful as it works against yours.

Letting the kiss grow, you grab hold of him by the belt to draw his body closer to yours, arching your hips into his, and you feel an impressive bulge greet you as you do so.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers bashfully, angling his hips away from you, in case you’re not ready for… that yet. “You’re perfection. So perfect, I… I’m a little bit, uh, excited.”

You don’t blame him. You’re a little bit excited too. There’s a drum beating in your chest. Music in your heart. A song everywhere. A dance in your body.

“W-would you like to take me to the bedroom, Richard?” you purr, softly. “We’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?”

You wish you could capture the bliss which sparks in his eyes then, and keep stoking it forever more. His whole being glows as if you are the sun shining down on him. He loves the sun on his face. He loves you.

He loves you.

*******

Later that night:

At some point after round three, Richard is ravenous, and so you head to the kitchen to grab some snacks. One of Richard’s plaid shirts wards off the slight chill, settled over your otherwise naked body. As you microwave something quick, you can barely keep the smile from your face – even more so as you glance over at the table full of half-finished letters. As the microwave pings and you grab out the plate, another idea occurs to you, and you simply can’t help yourself.

So, you pad mysteriously back towards the bedroom, where Richard is waiting. The blanket is slung low over his hips, skimming the dark trail of hair which draws your gaze down beyond his abdomen. He is covered, and yet you bloom blissfully with heat at your new-found knowledge of what lays beneath. He’s laying with one hand folded behind his head, and one hand rested on the soft, roundness of his stomach, which you had laid your head on only moments ago.

Richard’s eyes shine with unadulterated admiration as you enter, and you flash him a mischievous smile as you transfer the plate to his hands, and subsequently tip a cascade of his letters into the middle of the bed.

“What’s all this?” he asks, with a contented laugh as you bounce eagerly into bed by his side, humming in equal contentment as you slot yourself under his arm.  

“I want you to read them to me. Will you?” you ask, sweetly, and he looks bashful all over again. “No-one has ever sent me a love letter.”

“Me neither,” he chuckles. “Or I thought so…”

He hesitates, perhaps feeling shy, but he wraps his arm around you securely, nuzzling you into his side as he picks up the closest leaf of paper.

He hums gratefully as you begin to stroke his smooth chest. He really does sing whenever you touch him.

“They’re not finished,” he caveats. “I wanted to find the perfect words and I… I couldn’t.”

“The words don’t have to be perfect. It’s more important that they’re delivered,” you say, your voice soft as you sink into him, and so, he gently clears his throat and he begins to read, his words and his rich, soothing voice filtering over you like warm sunshine.

After a moment listening, and letting his love and his letters envelop you, you interrupt him gently. “My sweet man. Promise me you’ll never write me another love letter?”

“Are they that awful?!” Richard exclaims.

“No!” you laugh, into his chest, tipping your chin up to look him in the eyes. “They’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. It’s just… I think I hate love letters, Richard. They’ve only ever kept me from you.”

His expression becomes wistful, lost in thought until a smile finally captures him. Then, with a finger curling gently under your chin, he dips down to plant a small kiss to the very tip of your nose.

“No more letters then,” he promises softly. “Let’s always promise to say it out loud from now on. Let’s talk every day.”

You heart full, you bring your hand up to caress his cheek, before planting a gentle, lingering kiss to his lips; and, despite what you’d just suggested, you plead for him to keep reading to you, his voice and his love lulling you to sleep in his arms.

With the love letters as kindling, your dim spark finally catches, your fire now blazing. You set it in a hearth in your chest, and you vow to keep it stoked for always.

THE END

Bonus: