#and we'll never be lonely anymore

[running-in-the-dark]

like I just can't seem to make myself fit into the world no matter how hard I try, so why keep trying when there is no point

[nature-played-a-trick-on-me]

Ughrhehrh you know when you've had a terrible relationship with a parent and it's not going to change. I've tried so hard to establish some kind of mutually respectful relationship and it doesn't work. Doesn't work! It'll never be fixed!

[beast-of-the-void]

.

[nachrosas]

PADDY | s.reid x daughter!reader

summary: in which your daughter wants to be called paddy because her paddington bear. pairing: spencer reid x daughter!reader content warnings: just a bit of spencer insecurities and childhood, i think? word count: 603 a/n: hope you guys like it and feedback is always appreciated! till the next one!

The sun streamed timidly through the bedroom window, reflecting off the small stickers on the glass. The room was silent, except for the faint sound of pages being turned in a book. Spencer was sitting on the small fluffy rug, surrounded by a pile of books that Olivia, his four-year-old daughter, had rearranged in her own way — in other words, scattered randomly on the floor.

The little girl, her hair still messy from having just woken up, was sitting next to her father with her inseparable Paddington Bear in her little arms. The teddy bear, with his slightly worn red hat, seemed as focused as she was as they both stared at a book with map illustrations.

“Daddy?” she called, without taking her eyes off the book.

“Yes, Chérie?” Spencer replied, while rearranging the books in alphabetical order.

“My name isn't Olivia anymore.”

Spencer looked up, now puzzled. He adjusted his glasses and tilted his head, already accustomed to his daughter's surprisingly complex thoughts — which had undoubtedly been one of the traits she had drawn from him.

“What would you prefer me to call you?”

She clutched the bear to her chest and looked at her father seriously. “Paddy. Because now I'm like Paddington Bear.”

Spencer blinked, surprised, trying to hide a smile as he considered his daughter's statement. He closed the book he was holding and turned fully towards her.

“Oh, I see! And as Paddington Bear, do you have a special mission?”

Olivia frowned thoughtfully, as if that were the most important question in the world.

“I need a red hat and a suitcase. Can you help me?”

Spencer let out a low laugh, standing up.

“Sure, Paddy. We'll sort it out. After all, even bears need to be prepared for their adventures.”

He held up the small but old red hat he had found at the back of the cupboard. It was a little big for Olivia's head, but she put it on proudly, adjusting it with both hands. Her smile was so wide that he couldn't look away.

She spun around, holding the Paddington Bear like a trophy, and asked: “Is it good, Daddy?”

Spencer opened his mouth to reply, but an unexpected wave of memories hit him. He remembered the lonely nights of his own childhood, surrounded by books and theories, but with no one his own age to share all his fantastic ideas with. 

Looking at Olivia, full of life and with eyes brimming with joy, he felt a pinch. For a second, he hesitated. He didn't want to be the kind of father who quenched his daughter's imagination.

Taking a deep breath, he knelt down to her height and gently adjusted his hat. “It's perfect, Paddy. I've never seen Paddington look so elegant and stylish.”

Olivia let out a giggle and hugged the bear tightly, as if she had just received a title of nobility. Spencer smiled, but his mind was still wandering. He couldn't change the past, but he could do something now. He could be the father he wished he had, someone who didn't just accept Olivia's imagination, but celebrated it.

“You know,” he said, his voice soft as if revealing a secret. “Imagination is an adventurer's greatest tool. It's how the great explorers discover new and unexplored places.”

Olivia tilted her head, curious. “Like me, Dad?”

“Like you, Paddy,” he nodded.

And at that moment, he decided that he would never let Olivia feel that her imagination was small. For him, her every fantasy was an adventure worth living.

“So, where are we going to travel first, Paddy?” he asked, taking her hand.

[morose-melodies]

a quiet place x yandere! childe

childe lay motionless in the snow - worn and exhausted from fighting, he would have never imagined being tired of the very thing he sought after day in and day out.

but, childe was exhausted and did not want to fight anymore - no, he wanted to go home with you, he wanted to take you back home and he wanted to take you ice fishing just as he promised you, he wanted to leave the fatui and grow a family with you.

he doubted it would come true - not after he told you to run and stuck behind to fight. he doubted you ran too far off, not when he was actively protecting you from these monsters. you wouldn't do that to him, right?

childe was physically weakened after activating his foul legacy repeatedly to fight these monsters - to keep them at bay while you ran.

and he would do it again but, archons, he was exhausted.

childe huffed, lifting his head from the snow - his face felt numb and he felt faint. he should get up; he had to find you, but he *did not want to*.

not when he could rest, not when he could sleep for a while-

childe slowly stood up, anyway. he couldn't leave you out here alone. he saw your footprints in the snow - you had run off towards the stream, of course you did.

so, he followed your footprints, albeit at a slow pace, he would reach you soon enough... unless those creatures had gotten to you first... unless you had *actually ran away... unless-

childe was running, his chest aching as he forced himself to move faster. *if you were dead he would never forgive hims-

there you were.

he stilled, and a small smile twitched onto his lips, "(y/n)," he lowered his voice - he did not want to alarm those creatures again, not while you were resting.

you have been losing your mind these past few days, ever since those monsters came crashing down on snezhnaya. childe had been struggling to keep you sane - he was struggling to stay sane himself.

sitting down beside you, childe sighed, "didn't you say you wanted to get out of snezhnaya?" those words got your attention and you nodded, "i did, yeah. um, i wanted to go to-"

"it doesn't matter where we go; we should just leave, right?"

"yeah, but-"

"we'll go to liyue, that'll be nice."

your shoulders slumped and childe scooted closer to you, his shoulder brushing yours, "you think these monsters are everywhere?"

"I don't know," you replied, looking down at your lap, as childe's oversized coat slipped off of your shoulder. childe tugged the coat back onto your before saying, "i wish we could, i don't know, stay right here - right here by the stream."

"hm? why, it's really cold-"

"yeah, i know that but i miss talking to you. it gets lonely not being able to talk..." trailing off, childe dropped his hand back to his side.

"mhm," you hummed, glancing over at childe and watching as a bead of sweat ran down his forehand, "you okay?"

"hm? yeah, I guess so," he replied, wiping the sweat away with the back of his hand, before standing up, holding his hand out for you to take, "let's go, (y/n), let's go to liyue."

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM "LONG LOST" BY LORD HURON *  assorted lines from the album, adjust as necessary

the sky doesn't care what my poor heart wants.

the moon doesn't mind that i'm left all alone.

if you ever wanna see my face again, i wanna know.

if you ever get lonely, please let me know.

don't laugh. you'll make me cry.

so long. good luck. goodbye.

i know we will be together.

in my mind, you're mine forever.

don't wait. it's time to go.

if you really wanna stay, i'll go alone.

we really should've left here long ago.

keep moving.

love is strange.

i can't sleep without you.

everybody lies.

i'll never doubt you.

i don't want to die, but i can't live without you.

i'm much too young to die.

i've been lost before.

i have traveled many miles.

i don't wanna walk no more.

every road and every highway led me right back to your door.

love me like you used to.

i dream most every night that i never left you.

do you love me anymore?

i know i've made mistakes, but i am different now.

i've changed.

will you know me from the rest?

will you let me lay beside you?

will you grant me my request?

i swear this time around i'm gonna stay.

when i dream, i'll only dream of you.

i curse the goddamn day that i went and left you.

meet me in the city.

put on the dress you wore the night we met.

you and me are gonna paint this town.

we'll go wild and seize the night.

am i not the one you're dreaming of, my angel?

go home and say goodbye forever.

tell your ball and chain you won't be back around.

forget the life you had and don't look back.

if our love is so wrong, tell me, why does it feel so right?

let me go free forever.

i've got a place in the world.

i found my way.

send me to the mountains.

i have a tale or two to tell you.

the booze just makes me slow.

there's a method to my madness.

there's a reason why i'm still living here.

i made a promise when i left for the coast.

i got along for a while i guess.

it took everything i had.

i gotta find a way out of this mess.

i'm in trouble and it sure looks bad.

i have a thought or two to share with you.

the gambling left me poor.

i get by, but i'm tired of myself.

i just want us to be who we were long ago.

you're my long lost love.

where did the time go?

may you live until you die.

it's hard to make friends when you're half in the grave.

i ain't dead yet, and i got something to say.

you got holes in your clothes and booze on your breath.

you look like hell and you smell like death.

you're tired of me, i'm tired of you.

turn around and leave it to myself.

i don't want to lose you.

i can't stay here. i just can't.

told you i would never leave you all alone, but i lied.

i read your letter in the morning by the lake.

i lied.

so much to say, but my words mean nothing.

if i leave in the night, i'll only be running.

the world keeps turning.

it isn't for you, and it ain't for me.

i'll make a deal with the devil.

what does it mean if it all means nothing?

[sweetlyskz]

Emerald Gem||Chapter Four

Chapter one|Chapter two|Chapter three|Chapter four|Chapter five|Chapter six|

Pairing: Hybrid!OT7 x fem!reader

Overview: Living away from society has its perks. All natural food from your thoroughly cultivated farm, no nosy neighbors, and peace and security with your animals. But sometimes you did get lonely, having no one the talk to but the pigs. However, when 7 extremely wanted hybrids stable upon your deserted farm, everything changes.

Genre: Hybrid Au, Strangers to lovers, slow burn, smut, fluff

Warnings: Suggestive themes, language, mentions of abuse and trauma

Word count: 1.4k

Unedited

Little hops make their way to your bedroom door. Your personal alarm clock. Slowly, the door opens and a ball of fur jumps on your bed, tapping your leg with its foot.

"a couple more minutes please", you groaned, flipping your pillow to the other side. The bunny huffed, tugging on the blanket. He continued to kick until you gave in.

"Fine, c'mere Koo..." his face beamed. As soon as you sat up, leaning against your wooden bed frame, Jungkook hopped in your lap and rolled over.

You happily gave him what he wanted, gently rubbing his belly and patting his head. "Are you gonna do this every morning?"

The bunny shook his head and put his paw on your hand, never wanting it to leave his fur.

"Alright, enough. I have to make breakfast", you said, scooping him up in your arms and heading downstairs. He blissfully laid his head in the crook of your neck, enjoying the ride.

Downstairs was quiet, a little too quiet. Usually, the guys always woke up before you, shifting into their animal form. However it seemed no one was here. "Kook, where is everyone?"

He shrugged. You put him down so he could take a look around, but something told you they weren't far. Then you heard a couple of coughs come from their bedroom. You knocked on the door lightly.

"Come in", you heard a hoarse voice say. The door slowly creeked open.

"Oh-"

Joon, Jin and Yoongi were laid on the bed, flat on their backs. Jimin and Tae sat uselessly on the couch and used tissue paper all over the floor.

"Hey, Y/n", Jimin smiled weakly. His voice was raspy, scratchy. The others looked pale, like they had just seen a ghost. Jimin however, was red as a tomato. He was burning up.

"You guys..." you pouted. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick?"

Jin tried to get up but the pack leader quickly eased him back in bed. "Didn't wanna bother you... it's nothing, really."

You walked around the room, picking the tissues up off the floor and into the trash. "This looks like something, Joon! When did it start?"

"...A couple days ago, maybe?"

"A couple days! You guys waited a couple days to tell me you were sick?"

Taehyung raised his hand. "Actually, we weren't gonna tell you at all but-"

"That doesn't make anything better, Tae", Someone said, sounded like Hobi.

"...Hoseok?" He wasn't on the bed and he wasn't on the couch...

After some searching you found him in the bathroom, laying on the cold floor tiles. He had a roll of toilet paper in one hand and a thermometer in the other.

"I'm alright", he promised. "Feeling better already. I was actually gonna-"

"No. I don't want to hear anymore", you shook your head, grabbing Hobi and helping him to the bed. It looked like a storm had hit their room. For a good minute, you stared, wondering why in the world they couldn't come to you. Maybe they weren't as comfortable as you thought. Maybe they still didn't trust you. They all falter under your gaze. They're not sure why but every time you stare at them with those eyes that light up the room, they falter.

You don't seem to notice it though.

"We're so sorry! We'll get better", Tae pleaded.

The packer leader vouched for him and the others. "It's my fault. I wasn't paying attention. I swear, we are really feeling better."

Now you're the one that doesn't feel well. You're the one feeling sick to your stomach. Not for the same reason they do, but because they easily sit and lie to your face.

You hate lying.

"How do you guys do that?"

"Do what?" They all tensed, in hopes of the worse. Everything was going well- at least you thought so. Can a little thing like this really mess everything up for them?

"How can you guys be in pain, physical and mental pain... and lie about it?" You were confused. You were fed up. You had questions, and needed answers. You just wanted to be trusted for once in your life. "You know what? Don't even answer that. I'll be back with some soup and hot tea. Don't move."

***

With anger, you cut the carrots. With hurt, you chopped the celery. And with love, you made the noodles, shaping each dumpling into a heart. Cooking was a big stress reliever for you. Luckily, you have seven more mouths to feed, They could keep you cooking for the rest of your life- if they decide to stay.

As you stir the pot, you think. It's what you're best at, besides cooking. Your mind moves a mile a minute. And right now, your mind was telling you somethings off. Something is wrong.

"Y/n?" Jungkook, now in his human form, shuffled behind you nervously.

"Yes? Are you not feeling well?" You put your hand to his forehead to see if he had a fever. He then moved your hand to his cheek instead, pushing his face into your palm for comfort.

"I'm sorry", he whispered. "For not telling you about the others. I didn't want to betray my pack. I t-tried go get them to tell you but they can be stubborn sometimes.

You sighed. "I know, and it's okay. Don't worry your pretty little head, okay?" You took your hand away, earning a whine from kook, and patted his head.

You filled six bowls with chicken noodle soup and brought it to their room, with the help of Jungkook. They scarfed down every last drop, leaving nothing in the bowl. Then you brought them each an herb tea with honey. One by one, you went around the room, checking their temperature and looking for anything serious.

"Okay, I'll be tending to the garden. Kook, they stay in bed at all times. Come get me if you need something." Jungkook shook his head, ready to complete any task you assign him. As soon as you left, the room was more relaxed, but a cloud still loomed over them.

"We messed up", Yoongi confessed. "She must feel like we don't trust her."

"We don't. We don't trust her." Joon's voice was stern, assertive. It made the others cower in fear- except the youngest. Jin hoped to settle the pack leader before the conversation turned sour.

"Namjoon, please don't start-"

"I don't trust her! You know what she might do to us knowing we're sick!" He tried to get up from the bed but Yoongi quickly laid him back down.

"She's not like that", Jungkook seethed. "If you just got the chance to know her, you would know that. You're too busy comparing her to the researchers to realize that she's nothing like them!"

"Kook, wait-"

"Jungkook is right", Jimin agreed. "It's never gonna get better than her. I... I want to stay."

Namjoon was practically fuming by now. "You want to what?" Jin took it upon himself to calm Him down, whispering sweet nothings. But the others had no intentions of stopping.

"Y/n has been nothing but sweet to us. I-I mean she is really just trying to understand and get to know us. Why can't you just do the same?"

It was a question that Namjoon didn't have the answer to. Why couldn't he just give in? Why couldn't he at least put in a little effort? He didn't know, but he just knew it couldn't happen...

"Everyone pack your things. We're leaving."

***

For dinner you made all of their favorites. In your family, it was a way to apologize, to make amends. For you, it was a way to start friendships-- and say sorry. You may have been a little harsh on them, but you couldn't help yourself.

"Dinner's ready!" You took your usual spot at the table and waited for the others to come. Once they sit down and eat, then you make your plate.

A few minutes had passed with you sitting at the table. No one left the room. Actually, the house was unusually quiet.

"Guys? The food is gonna get cold!" Maybe they're too weak to get out of bed, you thought.

You knocked on the bedroom door as to not invade their privacy. With no answer, you knocked one more time before opening the door.

"Oh, god-"

They were gone, vanished. It looked like they were never even there. After a while of staring at the empty room, your rumbling stomach told you to come back to the dinner table. Sitting in the dining room, eating Tae's favorite Mac &cheese, you pondered.

I'm alone, you thought. I'm all alone again...

-

-

Taglist!!

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[ode2rin]

“it is because of your negligence that we're stuck here with each other,” you spat at him, the words laced with a bitter edge, and rin couldn't ignore the way you emphasized each word as if it were a weapon.

and from the way his chest was contracting against his ribcage, maybe they were indeed sharp knives out to get him. 

rin felt the weight of your accusation pressed against his chest, a stark contrast to the sweet nothings the two of you once exchanged beneath the sheets of love, where “i love you's” had been met with smiles, and the world had seemed so full of promise.

but now, things had taken a dark turn, and neither of you could pinpoint when or how it had all gone wrong. you wouldn't tell him– wouldn't let him turn things around.

rin's anger flared, his words escaping through clenched teeth. "my negligence? you're really pinning this on me, again?"

your eyes locked onto his, a warning in their depths. "don't go there."

he pushed on, relentless, “go where? you know i'm right. you always pin things against me.”

you didn’t respond , but you looked at rin in a way that made him want to fall on his knees and beg you — beg you to just tell him what more he can do for you to stop looking at him like this.

only if it was that easy, no — because it was a look of indifference, a look in your eyes that’s telling him none of his words were right anymore, and everything he says had not been good enough to attempt to fix things.

“let's just tell them we're done and leave this shitty reunion,” rin suggested with a note of finality.

“i should have known you'd suggest something as selfish as you,” you countered, shaking your head in disbelief. “this isn't about us. so don't you dare ruin this too, itoshi rin.”

the word ‘too’ hung in the air, a relentless echo that reverberated through the room, each syllable like a blade, cutting into rin's heart. it felt like a never-ending loop, a supercut of all he had lost and ruined - nights filled with piercing arguments, when your voices were raised until your throats ached, and the bed you had once shared had become a cold, lonely expanse. just how much of you had he shattered beyond the point of no return?

the ensuing silence was thick and suffocating, it enveloped the room, creating an atmosphere so tense you could almost hear the creaking of the floorboards under its weight. 

two old friends, once lovers, now trapped in a forced reunion getaway, compelled to act like a couple when their love had long since turned to ashes.

perhaps it was pride that you couldn’t admit it was partly your fault too. you should’ve told your friends about it the moment he took his things out of your shared apartment. there had been numerous chances, yet you clung to false hope, bargaining for a lost cause, and desperately wishing for a change that was never meant to be.

foolish. that's what it felt like - a foolish hope. you knew it was over the moment he couldn't bring himself to respond to your declaration that you were done.

“uhm, guys?”

as if on cue, isagi's head appeared at the slightly ajar door of your designated room,

“is everything fine? the tour guide is already downstairs, so…” he trailed off, his gaze shifting between you and rin, sensing the tension.

“we're—” rin began to say, but you immediately cut him off.

“everything's fine! just one of rin's moods,” you chimed in, forcing a smile as you turned towards isagi. “right, baby?” you said, addressing rin with a strained cheerfulness.

isagi chuckled, seemingly oblivious to the emotional maelstrom in the room. “must be it, then. i don't know how you dealt with that for five years, y/n.”

and there, amidst the oblivious laughter, it struck you. 

five years.

“yeah,” you admitted with a tinge of sadness, “five years of loving him would make you immune to it,” you thought, the words choking in your throat.

isagi, still in the dark, laughed lightly. “i guess so. we'll wait for you downstairs.” and with that, he left you alone with the relentless weight of your unresolved feelings.

for a moment, you and rin remained silent, but when you met his gaze, it was as though he wanted to ask a hundred different questions to comprehend what you meant about being immune to it.

but you beat him to the punch. “we'll tell them on our last day, and then pray to god that we never have to talk to each other again.” with that, you left rin to grapple with his thoughts, leaving the room heavy with the unspoken truth.

and right then and there, it struck him that the answer to when and how things had unraveled for both of you had been staring rin in the face all along. it was just that he wasn't ready to see it.

note. and i offer you: an excerpt from an idea i scraped :D

[hairmetal666]

cw// cancer mentioned, no character death

Eddie's moving to Chicago with his boyfriend and their best friend.

Eddie's moving to Chicago and it feels like everything is finally coming together.

Eddie's moving to Chicago, Steve Harrington is his boyfriend, and his life is starting.

Eddie's moving to Chicago, but then Wayne gets sick.

He tells Steve that he can't leave, not yet, needs to take care of his uncle.

And Steve, his Steve, perfect Steve, says with no hesitation, "I'll stay. Eddie, I'll stay with you. We'll go in six months. Together, that's the plan."

But Eddie can't let Steve do that; Steve who is everything bright and good and right in the world. Steve needs to get out, even if Eddie can't.

He insists Steve go, insists so hard that Steve can only agree, though Eddie can tell it's killing him.

Before they leave, Steve and Eddie cling to each other.

"Six months, baby. Just six months and then I'll be with you."

"I'll stay, Eds. Let me stay for you?"

"Not in a million years. What's six months in a lifetime together?"

"You mean that?" Steve whispers, the words tickling against Eddie's neck.

"Of course, sweetheart. Never meant anything more in my life."

They cling harder, crying against each other, despite it being goodbye for now and not forever.

They haven't said "I love you" yet, and the words hang on his tongue as the embrace ends, but he can't say it now; not when six months of time and 200-plus miles will separate them.

Except Wayne isn't better in six months. He's not worse, but the cancer's still there, he's still sick. And Eddie can't leave.

Eddie figured something like this would happen. Knew in the back of his mind that Steve and Robin and Chicago were never anything but a pipe dream.

When he calls Steve, he thinks he's ready.

"Okay, so Hopper's letting us borrow his truck, but he needs to know our timeline. You think next Saturday--"

"Steve." He says. His stomach clenches.

"What's wrong?" Because Steve knows, like he always does.

"Wayne's not better."

Steve is silent for a beat. "Okay...that's okay. I'll come back. Right now. Tonight. We'll do this tog--"

"You know I can't let you do that."

"Eddie--"

"No, Steve, don't. Okay? Let's just. It's time, you know?"

"It's not. Eddie, it isn't. Don't do this. Please, please," Steve cries.

"It's for the best. I know you can't see it now, but it is. You need to live your life, Stevie. Get that degree. Be someone."

"Eddie," Steve sobs. "Please. You have to know that I lo--"

"Don't," Eddie snarls. Doesn't mean to but can't hear those words, the three that will break him in two. "This is for the best, Steve. A clean break, yeah?"

"No." And Eddie hears Steve shuffling on the other end, like he's getting up. "I'm not letting you do this. I'm coming back, and we're doing this together. A lifetime, remember?"

Eddie's crying now, can't help it. "Please, don't. Steve, just--it's over, okay? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I can't do this anymore."

He hangs up the phone before Steve can argue, cries himself to sleep.

5 Years Later

Eddie never gets over Steve Harrington. His golden boy, the brave, perfect, kind, bratty man who has his whole heart.

Wayne is okay. Will never not have cancer, but he's doing good. And Eddie runs a record store in the town over. Visits some bars in Indy when he feels a certain kind of lonely. He's settled, finally, is the thing. He's settled and happy enough, so of course, that's when it happens.

He's at the grocery store, stopped in produce. There's a little girl, maybe 3 or 4--bright pink shirt, chestnut hair, little overalls--sitting in a cart by the tomatoes.

The sight of her sparks something in Eddie's chest, but he doesn't understand what or why, and then she's pointing at him, smiling and wiggling. "Daddy!" She shrieks.

That's when Steve Harrington swoops around the corner, reaching for the girl, his daughter, and Eddie takes a step away, ready to run from this.

The girls says, "That's the boy in all your pictures." She giggles and points at Eddie more. Steve blushes, and Eddie's assaulted by so many things all at once he thinks he may pass out.

"Stevie," he hears himself saying.

Steve freezes, looks at Eddie, so much knowing in those hazel eyes it makes him a little sick. But it still surprises him when Steve pulls him into a hug. Being in those arms again, It's like everything keeping him together falls apart. He sinks into the hold, breathes in deep, feels like home.

It shouldn't, though. Steve's got a kid. Probably a wife. Can't have his ex-boyfriend falling apart in his arms in the grocery store. Eddie disengages, steps back a little. Steve blinks, eyelashes fluttering, and Eddie is still so in love with him it hurts.

"I should--I should go," he mumbles, gripping at the back of his neck like it's a lifeline. The little girl giggles more, bouncing in her seat, and he's overcome with fondness. Can't help but give her an exaggerated bow as he goes.

He makes himself walk to the end of the aisle, but once he's left Steve behind, he runs.

That night, when a knock comes at his door, nothing prepares him for a sheepish Steve Harrington standing on the other side.

"Sorry to drop by unannounced," Steve says, manners still impeccable. "Wayne gave me your address. I'm glad--I'm glad he's doing okay, Eddie."

Eddie's too astonished to respond, nods for a few seconds before, "Th-thanks. Uhh, you wanna come in?"

Steve does and then they're in Eddie's little living room together and what the fuck is he supposed to do?

"Where's the kid?" he asks. He gestures Steve to the couch.

Steve smiles, a soft thing that's a knife to Eddie's heart. "Oh, I left her with Robin. They'll be fine for a few hours. Her name's Ellie, by the way. Ellie Jane Harrington."

"She knows who I am?" Eddie asks.

"Course. I told her about everyone. Showed her pictures. I hoped she could meet you one day."

"Yeah?" Eddie can't stand the thing that unfurls in his chest, blooming with love, so much care it aches in his teeth. "I swear next time I won't run away."

Steve laughs, hazel eyes fond in a way that Eddie can't look at for too long. "You didn't run away, Eds. It was a weird--reunion."

Eddie chuckles, pulls hair over his face. "A little bit. Not every day you run into your ex and his daughter scoping out tomatoes."

"I was hoping to give you a call, ask you out to dinner, or something. Not my kid recognizing you at Bradley's Big Buy."

"You wanna take me out to dinner, Stevie?" He asks before he can think better of it. Steve blushes red, and god Eddie missed him.

"Thought it might be nice, yeah. Get to know each other again."

It's Eddie turn to blush. "Why are you here?" He asks, good of a segue as any.

"Here, like, in your apartment, or here in Hawkins?"

"Both."

"I'm--uh--the new counselor at Hawkins High. Might coach the basketball team."

"But--Chicago," is all Eddie can say.

Steve laughs. "It was fun for a while, but--I don't know, man, it got hard with a kid. Joyce told me about the job opening and I decided to try."

"And Ellie's mom?" Eddie doesn't want to ask, can't stand not knowing.

Steve's eyes fall. "Ah," his hands squeeze into fists. "She's not in the picture. Never really was. After--" he takes a deep breath. "After we broke up, I sort of. Lost myself for awhile. Slept around. One night, I got this call saying that a baby had been surrendered at a fire station, my name listed as the father."

"Oh, sweetheart. I bet you didn't hesitate."

Steve stares at his hands, smiles. "Not for a second. I cried when I saw her, Eds. Just fucking sobbed. She was so beautiful. Then I had to figure out how to raise a kid and finish school."

"But you did it." Eddie can't hide that he's crying anymore.

Steve nods, is crying too.

"I'm really proud of you, sweetheart," Eddie whispers.

They look at each other, tear stained and sad but somehow so happy, and Steve leans forward, presses his mouth to Eddie's. He freezes, shocked to stillness, overwhelmed with the thing he never thought he'd have again.

Steve pulls back, face red and eyes wide. "I'm so sorry. I got it in my head--" he stands, fumbling for his keys. "I should have never--you told me we were done and I know you meant it. But I saw you in the grocery store and I thought, you know, I'm never getting over him. I'm so stup--"

"Steve, wait" Eddie snaps out of it all at once, hurrying to where the man he's never stopped loving is shoving his feet inexpertly into his shoes.

"Don't leave," he says, almost whispering. "Please don't leave. Steve, I'm so, so sorry for how I ended things. I was so young and stupid, and--I didn't want you to lose your dreams for me."

Steve turns then, tears trickling down his cheeks. "You were my dream, Eds. You still are. I should have come back, made you let me stay. But I thought--maybe your feelings had changed. That you didn't--that you weren't--"

Eddie can't help it, pulls Steve into his arms. "I was. I am. You're all I've ever wanted." He presses his face to Steve's hair, breathes in deep. "I loved you then. I love you now. I've loved you every day in between."

"I love you," Steve sobs. "I love you so much."

They kiss, lips slotting together like they never stopped. It's salty with tears, but it's perfect. It's them.

Their mouths part, but they stay in each other's orbit; need the proximity after years apart.

"I have a kid now, Eddie," Steve says into the silence between them.

"Yeah," Eddie nods. "She's beautiful. Looks like her dad."

Steve smiles, flushes again. "She needs stability in her life, you know? She's my priority. Always will be. And if I--if this--"

Eddie knows. Understands his boy just as well now as he did back then. "We'll take it as slow as you need, baby. I want to be there for both of you. When you're ready. And until then, I'll be wherever you need me."

More tears escape Steve's eyes, but Eddie brushes them away. "We have a lifetime to figure it out."

[smilesatdawnmain]

ETERNAL LMK AU (Part 1) (Interactive Story)

Hello everyone! I welcome you with another interactive story. Instead of hand-drawn art, I am going to do some writing for this one.

This story will be using my "Eternal" au concept. ( I dunno if I'll ever post this as a fanfic, so might as well let those curious viewers get a chance to see this some way or another)

If interested you can go to my Au's listed at the top of my homepage to learn a few details of this au, or simply let the story play out to figure out what is going on.

The rules are simple.: I will give the written passage, and then at the bottom there will be a vote on how the characters act next!

Story: Eternal

Ships: Shadowpeach

Angst: You betcha

Fluff: With enough choices, maybe we'll get there.

------------story below------------------------

We often take for granted our senses until they are taken away. Touch and smell, these are the few things that we rarely go without as living beings in the world.

Ah, but he wasn't really living anymore, was he?

Liu'er Mihou, the Six-Eared Macaque, shadow of the King... quite literally now.

For years, he had observed Wukong struggling to understand death and desperately trying to avoid it. Time after time, the King collected and consumed immortality, hoarding it for himself without any intention of sharing it with others. Macaque supposed in his conquest to ensure he never died, Wukong didn't quite consider that those around him didn't hold the same invincibility. Macaque being one of those few who lingered around the King. He was a demon, of course, which naturally granted a long life span- but not eternal.

Perhaps that is why Wukong fought with such wild abandon when he struck the Moon Monkey down. And perhaps that is why Wukong's face contorted into a ghostly mask of shock and horror the moment he heard the bone wrenching snap of Liu’er Mihou’s skull.

The trembling of his hands as he held Macaque up, fingers stained red and eyes quivering like a leaf in the wind.

"I-I didn't mean- I thought you were- No... No!!"

Poor excuses to cover up that Wukong just wasn't aware enough to realize he had never once shared a peach of immortality with the raven furred monkey. Never shared a small cup of immortal elixir. Never mattered enough to the King who had everything.

Perhaps Macaque was just too good at pretending that he didn't fear for his life every time he followed the invincible Monkey King out into the world. If he was just a bit easier to read, maybe Wukong would have realized that is oldest friend, the holder of his heart, was just as afraid of death as he was.

So it didn't matter how desperately Wukong tried to stop the bleeding, or sobbed his name, there was no undoing that bludgeoning force that had bashed Macaque's head in two.

After that, a period of darkness ensued. The world turned cold and he couldn't feel the ground beneath him anymore. He couldn't even taste the metallic tang of blood in his mouth; all that filled his ears were wet whimpers and the sound of his own heart beating erratically before slowing into silence.

Then even the crying faded away.

He thought the Diyu would claim him then. For what felt like years he waited in that darkness for something to happen. To realize the horrors that always left Wukong quivering in his boots when death took you.

There was nothing. Perhaps this was the punishment? Or was this just what death was- Nothing. How boring. How lonely.

“——-”

If his ears could move, they would have flickered. For a moment, a single moment, undoubtedly insanity, he heard faint murmurs and sounds?

Sometimes they sounded like people talking, a scolding tone or a bout of laughter. Other times it sounded like a battle or conflict. There was the sound of a trotting horse, clinking metal, and a crackling fire. He thought his own mind was torturing him when he swore he heard Wukong laughing.

It wasn't until he heard the sound of running water and a trickling waterfall one day that Macaque recognized a sound. It was hard to ever forget the sounds of one’s own home, after all.

Flower Fruit Mountain.

The sound of the waterfall that marked the entrance to his and Wukong's home was forever etched in his memory. Without hesitation, he traced the source of the sound. It was like swimming through mud, but it led him upward.

Then there was light and he could see!

He was home. He was within the mountain, in the safety of their hut- could he even call it “their” hut anymore. It didn’t matter.

He knew this place. He could see the colors and hear the noises- it only lacked it’s smell.

Dazed, he turned left and right, pinching his own cheeks but finding no sensation as he did so. It had to be a dream...

...a fleeting illusion framed by the memories of life he once knew. He blinked at the vibrant colors around him—the greens of the foliage, the warm browns of the wood, and the brilliant orange of a sunset spilling through the door just ajar. Oh, he was home.

He was home!

Then...

He saw Wukong.

He emerged from their- from the bedroom, removing the armor that adorned his shoulders. Glittering gold that matched his hair and eyes. Macaque staggered back in surprise.

When their eyes locked, he expected Wukong to say something- to glare or sneer- anything...

Wukong's steps were slow, but purposeful as he advanced towards Macaque. A sense of panic gripped Macaque, causing him to involuntarily retreat backwards in fear. Fear of pain. Of going from pain, to nothing, and then back to pain was an unbearable thought.

He inhaled sharply, his own skull aching- reminding him of what Wukong had done. What he could do again. What he would do again! "G-Get away-!" he threw his arm out with little avail to his murderer, his lover, his everything, "Wukong, please!" The tremor in his voice betrayed him, ringing hollow against the walls of their home.

One step, then two, unstopping and unrelenting. Uncaring…

And then moving past him?

Macaque gasped as Wukong’s form, sold and unbreakable, phased right through him. Eyes wide he hiccuped, turning to where Wukong was still walking down that hall. He hadn’t even batted an eye.

Macaque touched his own chest, finding he could, his eyes still glued to Wukong’s back. Eventually he tore his gaze away and looked himself over.

What?

The question held no answer. He heard the door open, and then close- Wukong had left. He was going somewhere. Leaving a mess of scattered belongings and clothes, armor strewn here and there… left to be examined and the house to be freely explored.

How long has Wukong been home? Was the journey over? Where was he going now? Why hadn’t he said anything? Too many questions to investigate.

Next part

[livesworthlivingau]

Lives Worth Living Chapter 15

ISAT/Two Hat spoilers below. CW: Uhhh.... emotional pain, idk exactly how to tag this one but it's gonna hurt y'all, I may or may not have cried at work just THINKING about this chapter... So uhh, yeah, you've been warned.

(You awaken to an odd sensation. It feels distantly familiar, like a wave of healing and confirmation washing over your very essence… a save point?… Wh… Why are you feeling this now? This hasn't happened any other time so far… was it Loop?! You barely even finish the thought before your hand is placed beside your head in the usual 'call loop' sign… and the connection never comes.)

"Loop…" (You shudder out softly as your hand falls back to your side. You sit there, frozen, mind racing with all the horrible possibilities of what this all could mean. Were they gone?… Were you too late?… Could you even loop back before now if you wanted to? Why is the connection gone?! What happened to them?! They can loop too right?! You have to go back! You have to try!! Yo-)

"Sif? S-Sif are you okay?" (Isa's voice snaps you out of it, perking up a little and looking over at him. Tears have been pouring down your face. Isa sits up quickly, wrapping his arms around you almost instinctively, holding you close to his chest with worry.)

"I-I… I can't feel them anymore… Loop's gone!" (You choke out through the lump in your throat. You can't stop yourself from sobbing anymore. You retreat into the comfort of their touch, and yet you can't help but feel so alone in this moment.)

"I-It's okay Sif, I'm here… We'll figure this out, I'm sure they're fine!" (He tries to comfort you, but you both know his words are empty promises.)

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

"Are you certain they're gone? Maybe something just severed the connection, or there's an interference." (Odile theorizes as her and Mira had entered the room to console you. You sit in bed, holding your legs to your chest under you cloak, hiding your face in it as your expression looks hopeless.)

"I could always feel them… the slightest little blip, even when they never showed back up again… a-and now they're just…" (You start to explain, tears forming in your eye once more.)

"B-But we don't know what they've been doing! It doesn't mean they're gone!" (Mirabelle chimes in, trying to be as hopeful as possible.)

"What else could it mean, Mira?! Why else wouldn't I be able to feel them anymore?! I-I… I have to loop back, I-I have to try and sto-"

"Frin?…" (Your heart stops as you look to the door, noticing Bonnie standing just outside of it.)

"B-Bonbon! I-I-… I didn't… I-I'm not…" (You stammer out, your body shaking. Bonnie looks devastated, clenching their fists with tears welling up in their eyes. They then sprint back down the hall as they start sobbing. Odile sighing and following after.)

"I'll try to talk to them." (She nods to Isa and Mira, as if handing off the problem for them to deal with you…)

"Sif, please, you gotta calm down and then we can try to figure this out."

"What is there to figure out?! They're gone!! A-And if they're gone then what's even the point of going through all this again?! I-I-… I can't! I can't do this!!" (Your voice screams out, gripping your hair so tight it nearly tears out of your head. Tears continue to pour from your single eye.)

"Siffrin! P-Please, you'll hurt yourself!" (Mirabelle cries out as she looks ready to craft some healing for you.)

"We don't know they're gone Sif, we could-" (Isabeau starts to console you before you snap back.)

"Of course they're gone!! Why wouldn't they be?! Everything else that matters to me vanishes! Loop! My home! My memories! MY WHOLE BLINDING LIFE!! IT'S ALL GONE!!"

"…Sif… You've still got us…" (He pleads, you can hear the devestation in his voice.)

"Do I?! Because I just spent the last 30 years with all of you and only I can remember any of it!! That makes me feel pretty blinding lonely right now!!" (You can't even bear to look at either of them, but the silence stings painfully in your ears.)

"... C'mon, Mira, I think Sif just needs to simmer down." (Isa does his best to hide the break in his voice, but he's clearly fighting back the tears. The both of them leave the room and shut the door behind them. You grab the pillow beside you and bury your face into it. You scream as loud as you can, you scream until your voice gives out and your throat is raw, then you try to scream some more. The tears eventually stop flowing from your eye. You think you've just ran out of them.)

(You pull your face up from the tear and saliva soaked pillow, just throwing it to the side. The light from the window flickers as the branches blocking the sun drift about in the wind. You hop up off the bed and open the window wide, climbing out and sprinting to the largest tree you can find.)

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

(The favor tree towers over you. You need a leaf, your favorite one… None of them mean anything to you in the moment. You grab the most Fresh looking leaf you can find. You hold it close and whisper into it thrice.)

"I wish to find Loop…"

(You delicately fold the leaf and drop it at your feet. You wait… You wait some more… You're getting impatient. You pick up another leaf, you whisper into it 6 times.)

"I wish to find Loop."

(You fold and drop the leaf again. You wait. You clench your fists and jaw, letting out an annoyed growl. You pick up another leaf, and scream into it until your voice gives out again.)

"I WISH TO FIND LOOP! SHOW ME WHERE THEY ARE YOU STUPID BLINDING UNIVERSE!!! I HAVE TO FIND THEM!! I WISH TO FIND LOOP!!!!"

(You violently crumple the leaf up and throw it to the ground, panting and shaking, staring angrily at the set of useless leaves you had used. As you prepare to grab yet another leaf, a strong gust of wind flows through, swooping up the 3 leaves you had used and fluttering them along through the tree line... the faintest hint of sugar fills your nostrils. You begin walking the way they pointed.)

[spicyllewyn]

When you walk away.

Moon system x F ! Reader.

"When you walk away, Cut me open, take my heart So we'll never be apart Don't you let it go to waste."

Tags & warnings. NSFW, NON-CONSENSUAL. (+18)

Word count. 2.5k

Summary. You, literally, physically, cannot break with your boyfriends. (Inspired by the reddit story.)

The 4 of you were in tune, just as you had been throughout your entire relationship. Steven, Marc, and Jake were aware that this would happen at some point or another, much to their liking sooner rather than later, but sometimes there's not much you can do. Sometimes, being the keyword.

As time passed, your patience dwindled little by little. Cleaning Jake's wounds, comforting Steven's nightmares, and picking up the broken pieces of Marc's fits of anger became 'too much' when you realized that you were the one living with pain silently most of the time.

It wasn't their fault, you were aware of that, you couldn't deny that they loved you, and you didn't have the strength to lie to yourself about it, but you also knew that there was no way they would rid themselves of the title of vigilante. Khonshu didn't let them go, but they didn't fight as much as you would like either.

The sound of the door pulled you out of your thoughts, and one last time Marc's exhausted expression caused a stir in your heart. You gave him a small smile, and he, seeing that strange expression, knew that the day had come.

"What are you doing awake?" He closed the door behind him.

"I was waiting for you." When your body shifted to one side of the couch, there was space for him beside you. Marc understood, the couch creaked under his weight, he was right at the corner of it, raising his arm to the backrest to be able to touch your shoulder with his fingers in a loving gesture. "We need to talk."

He nodded silently, his breath hitched but he managed to disguise it for you.

"I can't do this anymore, Marc." Your voice broke when you said his name, and he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze as if trying to convey the strength you needed to continue. "I love you but I think this isn't the best for either of us."

He nodded again, biting the inside of his cheek.

"I understand." He didn't make a scene, he didn't raise his voice, and he didn't plead, and even though the tears trapped in his eyes portrayed the real pain he felt, you knew he loved you too much to make this harder for you.

Marc would never turn the knife that he had already stabbed you with when he agreed to be in a relationship with you. He pulled your wrist and with a push, he brought you against his chest where you cried for a good 10 minutes until his voice caught your attention.

"I'm going to leave, okay?"

"You don't have to do it, not now." You checked the time on his watch; he still had an arm around you. "It's late."

"I need to be alone." His lips occasionally brushed against your hair, small kisses that carried the scent of your shampoo. "Please."

This time it was your turn to nod silently.

Your bodies broke the hug, and both of you felt the cold of the night hit you like a truck. You watched with crossed arms as he removed Steven and Jake's posters from the walls; he never liked putting up decorations of that kind.

He packed up what he could in some boxes, books, clothes, even a picture frame with a photo of both of you, he loaded everything into Jake's car.

He took your cheeks one last time, and you enjoyed the taste of mint in his mouth, those chewing gums he used to try to relax his anxiety, those that never worked. When Marc left, you sent a couple of messages to acquaintances to break the news because you had been together for so long that your partner could already be considered part of your family and your group of friends; you received some immediate responses.

Mostly words of encouragement, regretting that things hadn't worked out.

You went to sleep in a cold, lonely bed, but with a strange sensation, as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You had the chance to start over, to live a life with fewer worries.

Things could get better.

Steven's late-night podcast woke you up around 10 in the morning on Saturday, accompanied by a delicious scent of waffles; you knew it was him because the coconut aroma always prevailed in his vegan breakfasts.

Without opening your eyes, you complained to yourself. Were they trying to change your mind now? You were ready to argue.

The feeling of discomfort caught your breath in your lungs when you opened your eyes and saw the posters back on the wall. Looking down was also a surprise; you were wearing one of Steven's shirts, your favorite for sleeping.

You could swear Marc had taken it the day before along with many of his things.

"Love?" Steven's smile slowly faded when you appeared in the kitchen, an uncomfortable expression on your face. "Is something wrong? Are you okay?" He stopped what he was doing to walk up to you, his delicate touch landing on your cheeks just as Marc had done the night before, squeezing them to get your attention.

"I think... mhm." You let him interrupt you with a kiss. "I had a bad dream." Or at least, that's what you were trying to convince yourself. There was no other explanation for this happening.

"Sorry for leaving you alone in bed, I was starving." He looked genuinely concerned as his forehead rested against yours. "I made waffles for you; I know they're your favorites."

You spent the morning with him, and Steven being as affectionate as always didn't surprise you; that simply was Steven's personality. As the day went on, you understood that you had only experienced an extremely lucid dream, so you would have to go through this again somehow.

While your boyfriend rested his head on your lap, you stretched just a bit to grab your phone, which lit up with a message arrival, and you took the opportunity to check one last time that you weren't going crazy. You scrolled through all the messages, and there was none talking about breakups or anything close; in fact, your last message had been sent to their shared phone, you saying you missed them without receiving a response.

Your other hand, almost by inertia, played with Steven's curls as you searched for any sign that told you that the previous night had indeed happened.

Nothing.

"Are you okay?" He mumbled sleepily; apparently, your fingers had tensed in his hair.

"Mhm." You swallowed hard. You couldn't do this again; it felt like a cruel joke of life. "Can we talk? Please?"

Very much against his will, he straightened his back and faced you. Those beautiful brown eyes with dark circles underneath looked at you with as much admiration as they always had, his fingers intertwined with yours, and his thumbs stroked your hands.

"What's wrong, love?"

"We can't be together anymore." It was better if you did it bluntly, as if ripping off a band-aid all at once rather than doing it slowly.

His expression gradually fell, tears filled his eyes, his brow furrowed, and a small pout appeared on his lips. His fingers slowly tightened around yours.

Your hands hurt from the way he clung to you.

"Steven, you're hurting me." You sobbed too when you saw him cry openly. When you stood up, he fell to his knees in front of you without letting go. If only your dream had been real; going through this was hurting your heart twice as much as you had ever imagined.

Another reminder that Marc and Steven were not the same person.

"Sorry, I-I'm sorry." He stuttered as you helped him to his feet. He released your hands to hug you against his chest, almost cutting off your breath with the suddenness of his movements. "I'm sorry, love."

Sorry for what? He hadn't done anything wrong in the relationship; not all breakups arose from mistakes on either side, sometimes things just didn't work out, and that was it.

He, internally, knew very well why he was apologizing to you.

"I need to be alone, Steven." You whispered when you felt him hiccup against you in pain; his shirt you were wearing felt damp by now at shoulder level.

You gently pushed him back by the chest, and he took a step back, still trembling.

"I... Y-yeah, of course, I... understand." He forced himself to take a step back.

"Jake's car keys are where they always are." With heaviness, you had to turn your back on him, or you knew he would never leave. You could feel his brown orbs glued to you for just a few seconds before the slam of the door made you startle.

You ran your hands over your face in desperation. Facing it a second time had been worse, but things were done, fortunately, and you could talk about it better later, or at least that's what you hoped, when he felt calmer.

You sent messages giving the news, unlike your dream, this time it was a way to beg that no one asked about Jake, Marc, or Steven. You didn't have the strength.

A pair of arms tightened around you strongly causing you to groan in the middle of your sleep. You snapped your eyes open, feeling suffocated by the pressure.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You slurred as you struggled to get out of his grip.

“What's wrong, princesa?” He growled lowly as he pulled you tighter against him. He raised his head a little so he could look at you. He had barely one eye open, and thus he managed to look confused.

“Let go of me, Jake!” You were noticeably upset, his arms seemed to enclose you with increasing force as if he didn't notice that you were on the verge of a panic attack. The previous few hours hadn't been a dream, you were sure.

Your back hit his chest and you felt his breath on your neck.

“Wasn't one round enough for you?" His hips collided with yours to give emphasis to his words. “Do you want me to get you tired, amor?” One of his arms continued to take your breath away while his right hand moved down your body, stopping at one of your tits, squeezing it with his fingers almost in a playful way before continuing to crawl downwards, heading between your legs.

“Let go of me, I don't even know what the fuck you're doing here.”

Your voice cracked, breaking his heart.

But not as much as it would break him to let you go.

“I live here, tontita.” His fingers were rubbing against your pussy lips slowly. Up and down, forcing you to open your legs a little more.

“Jake, please.” Your eyes were filled with tears. This was a horrible nightmare.

“Shh, be a good girl for me, okay? I had a long day.”

You didn't even put in any strength. You didn't have it anymore. As his fingers played with you, his hips pushed against your ass, over and over, rubbing his boner against you.

He was going to admit it, even he couldn't imagine being attracted to the idea of ​​something like this. But after your attempts to escape, this felt like a way to reaffirm that you belonged to him.

“Look how wet you are, did you miss me?” When he got tired of his fingers doing the work he forced them into your mouth, making you taste yourself.

Steven's shirt that you again didn't remember wearing made his job easier, only pushing aside your panties to insert his cock deep inside your being in a single thrust. And you no longer knew if you were sobbing from pleasure or fear.

You didn't remember him being so rough to you before. With one push he flipped you onto your stomach with him crushing your entire body, where he could thrust more comfortably with a handful of your hair tangled in his fingers.

You heard the bed creak, his gasps, and you felt your face wet from your saliva and tears filling your pillow.

“Fuck, that's just w-what I needed.” He was using you. You could recognize it, sex between you always meant pleasure for both of you, now he seemed to be using you as a thing where to leave his cum.

Between tears and kicking, deep down, you knew you were liking it.

He didn't last long, not right when he discovered how much he liked taking you this way. You slept with him next to you, with his sperm running down your legs and wishing this too had just been a dream.

You didn't search for them around the apartment the following morning; as soon as you got up, you ran straight to grab a suitcase, if you didn't escape your own damn mind was going to drive you crazy.

Three days had been enough to make it difficult for you to differentiate between reality and your lucid dreams or whatever it was you were experiencing. You bumped into Marc as you exited the room.

"Woah, what's going on?"

You didn't even respond to him; you couldn't even look him in the face after what they had done to you.

"Move!" You pushed him as hard as you could, grabbing your phone, which for the third time had not a single message about the breakup.

"Sweetheart?"

"How the hell dare you ask me what's wrong!?" You were shattered, your mind, your body, you. "Last night, Jake... "

"Huh?" He interrupted you with a furrowed brow. "We just got here, sweetheart."

No, no, no, no, he was lying to you.

He had to be lying to you. You wanted to wipe that confused expression off his face with punches and tear off the hand he was using to point at Jake's car keys in their place.

You put them there; he just threw them wherever when he arrived.

And truth be told, when you looked down between your legs, you were almost too clean.

You were going crazy.

"Fuck off, Marc." Erratically, you ripped the charger off your phone from the wall and almost ran to the front door as if he were chasing you. Which clearly he wasn't. In fact, he wasn't doing anything except looking confused. "You and Steven and Jake, leave me alone."

The slam of the door made you feel free, as did the car horns and sounds of street vendors.

That night, you searched for the farthest motel you could find; you kept your phone off after sending messages to acquaintances assuring them you were okay but didn't feel comfortable sharing your location with them at the moment.

Ah, and at least you had a good night's sleep, after a long time.

“Pancakes or waffles?”

Steven's voice made you snap your eyes open. Your head was on his arm, and you felt the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed against your back.

Tears filled your eyes when you recognized the place around you.

Your home.

When your sobs reached your boyfriend's ears, you immediately felt him place a kiss on your shoulder.

"What's wrong, honey? Did you have a bad dream?"

:)

[fakescenariosbeforesleepblog]

By fire and heart.

Pt.3

Daemma Targaryen. Second daughter of King Viserys and queen Aemma, you're the living portrait of your mother with the character of a true dragon, as a second daughter you don't have right to the throne but certainly, you will protect your sister's succession by heart. (You are one year younger than Rhaenyra.)

Warning: Credits of this images goes to whoever they belong to! Grammatical and spelling errors, maybe this won't be good enough but In my head the story was a good one.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Pt.4 here

It's curious how a war can make you change, years have passed and you're not a little young lady in those ridiculous dresses, you're not a girl running through the castle halls anymore, you remember the day you arrived at the step stones and the smell of dirt, ashes, blood and sea salt, was something that you would remember perfectly.

Daemon was furious, he almost dragged you back to your dragon to send you back home.

- WAR IS NOT A GAME, DAEMMA! THIS IS NOT A PLAYGROUND AND IT'S NOT A PLACE FOR A LADY.

- I'M NOT HERE BECAUSE OF THAT, I'M HERE TO HELP. YOU TOLD ME TO GET STRONGER TO SUPPORT MY FAMILY, YOU ARE MY FAMILY AND I'M HERE TO SUPPORT YOU.

His anger lasted for days, but eventually he understood why you were there, it wasn't only to help, it was because you wanted to be near him, after all, he was more like a father for you than your own dad, you also as a second child understood pretty early that you would have to build your own path.

He was a proud uncle, you were fierce and strong all those hours training and practicing helped you, you're not a scared deer, you're a dragon, pure fire runs inside you, a true Targaryen warrior.

«Careful! The dragons!!!»

All the mercenaries were screaming and running to escape from the flames of Caraxes and Whitefyre.

- WHERE ARE YOU DRAHAR, COME HERE AND CONFRONT ME!

- Don't be a coward, leave the Shadows you bastard!

Fire, death and destruction surrounded you and your uncle, meanwhile your father was living his best life with his new child.

You and Rhaenyra communicate frequently, you made her a promise and even if you are so far from home you still keep that promise, you would fly home if she called you.

Your little half baby brother, Aegon, catches all your father's attention. Your sister feels lonely, but tries to keep strong, a Targaryen never shows the sorrow that grows inside.

The news of the war arrives at your father's door frequently too, but he doesn't care, he refuses to talk about the crab feeder and refuses to send ships or any kind of help, the influence of the Hightower doesn't help much either.

«they started this war by themselves, they'll have to win it by themselves»

Rhaenyra is not in her best time, she constantly argues with your father, every letter is pretty much the same.

«Our father reminded me again about my responsibilities, as if I were an idiot, lucky you that escaped from here... My apologies Daemma, I know the circumstances for you are not any better than mine, keep yourself safe, sister, i still need you at my side.»

The rest of the letter was about what she heard about the war, how she put those old fat ladies in their place, her encounter with that wild boar, about what she saw in the forest... the white stag, and the worse comes when your sister mentions you about how you and her are now in age to marital arrangements, you couldn't contain your laugh when you read that part about the Lannister man and his proposal.

-We still can win this war by ourselves! We don't need the king's help.

- Oh trust me, Princess, we need help, soon enough we will not be capable of fighting, we're less and less.

- We do not need the king, Lord Vaemond. We'll find another way.

- If you don't ask for it, I will.

- if you do it, I personally will cut your throat.

- Enough, Daemma.

A hand squeezes your shoulder and makes you step back. Your uncle appears just in time before you and Vaemond started to yell at each other as you usually do, you're brave and smart but still you don't understand many things about war, you're learning, your refusal to ask your father's help is a clear proof of it, Daemon refuses to receive help because he already knows how to win, but, for unknown reason he still doesn't decide to give the final hit.

Meanwhile Vaemond Velaryon ran like a scared little mouse and asked for help, your father after years ignoring the pleas, finally accepted and sent a letter and a float.

Early in the morning, dragons fly over the stones and the beach, smoke and ashes, you, Laenor, Corlys, Vaemond and some other men are counting and planning what to do, there's no food or resources enough, you have to find a solution.

- We're weak and that triarchy knows it! Continue sending the dragons.

Corlys looks exhausted and anxious and exasperated, observing the map over and over, he feels hopeless.

- It is useless.

You're tired of flying around without reason, it is useless, Laenor knows it too.

- Indeed, father, the archer defend the skies while the rest protect their position, when the dragons attack they hide in those caves.

- We have to make them leave the caves...

- But they don't have reasons to leave the caves.

Vaemond complains and once again Laenor talks, he has a good plan, better than continuing flying and not obtaining nothing.

- Then let's find a reason. Someone needs to risk.

- Who? Who will be crazy enough to risk is own life?

«A dragon returns!»

- Daemon.

- Daemon is the reason why we're in this position.

- At least he's doing something, he's fighting while you only complain, Lord Vaemond.

Suddenly Corlys is in the middle of you and Vaemond.

- Enough. Listen Vaemond, I will not allow a revolt.

Daemon joins the small group, he's quiet, looks the opposite of all of you, he looks relaxed, annoyed but still with a calm mind, he's observing all the men around when a new group appears at the view, a messenger.

You instantly looked at Vaemond, you were ready to stab him over and over, you know what the message brings and obviously you know what your uncle will say.

Your uncle takes the piece of paper and reads it calmly, he's pissed, truly pissed. Just when you thought he would not react negatively, he takes his helmet and starts to hit the poor messenger over and over, Laenor and you contain him.

Moments later, your uncle takes a boat and goes to the beach, the plan would be executed. He would pretend to give up, distracting everybody so the rest of you will take advantage.

He walks through the beach with a fake white flag, the crab feeder finally leaves his cave, there's no dragons in the view, mercenaries approach your uncle, while archers point at him.

Suddenly, you appear behind him, fighting side to side, mercenaries appearing out of nowhere, rain of arrows falling over you, your legs are burning, your lungs need more air, but the adrenaline increases, Daemon falls in the sand, arrows hit him and mercenaries are on the way, it's just you and him, call it whatever you want, but the bond between you and your uncle is reason enough to make Daemon stands up, he will not let those men touch you, he knows you can defend yourself but at some point you will not have strength enough, that's why he stands up, he forgets about the pain and runs to protect your back.

Drahar thinks he already won, but once all the mercenaries are out, a wave of your soldiers are running to them, a river of flames puts you and Daemon safe, your dragon, whitefyre, lands and you quickly jump on it, all the arrows are on you, nobody has seen Laenor and his dragon until it's too late, you and Laenor eliminate the archers, while the rest is fighting at the beach.

You lost your uncle, you can't see him anymore, the anxiety is taking the best of you, where's he? What if...?

Coming out of the cave, Daemon appears there's blood covering him, he is dragging a head and a half body with him. Drahar's body, it's done, it's over.

[angellayercake]

Oh well @sakuraspoke if you insist on me rambling about Terzo who am I to refuse? ☺️

We know from some interview snippets about him that by the time he becomes papa he is bitter and he hates himself and he is somewhat of a recluse which is clearly a massive contradiction to the caring, entertaining, silly, sexy charmer we see on stage. That man seems a lot more in keeping with the description we see from Bishop Necropolitus Cracoviensis who describes Terzo during his time as a Cardinal. As being a visionary who cares for his flock and revels in sin.

So how did he get here and how does that relate to this song?

I think we can all agree that his hopes for what he would achieve during his reign as Papa were squashed very quickly. He clearly put up a fight and was starting to gain momentum by the end where perhaps he thought it might be possible (hence why he was dragged off stage, humiliated and murdered) but we can see that nothing really went to plan and this is what probably sent him down the spiral of depression and self hatred.

But to bring it all back to 'We'll never have sex'. He created a very specific persona that was very likable and charming and I have no doubt that those are aspects of his personality and he had no lack of partners within the Ministry and without. But they ONLY wanted the Charming Papa™ and when his darker side would reveal itself, his self loathing and dissatisfaction they would run for the hills, if they even stayed long enough to see it. Because he is Papa right? Sex god leader of the Satanic Church, champion of the female orgasm, he is above wanting to be loved or cared for.

He is lonely, depressed, hopeless and desperate for some connection. So he keeps up the facade, keeps accepting the one night stands and casual propositions just to stave off the loneliness for a night or two until he just can't anymore. He closes himself off and comes to terms with the fact that no one will ever want just him.

This is all my standard headcanon for him in general and most of my fics unless otherwise stated but this also leads specifically into banchetto so I will put that under a read more in case anyone doesn't care about that bit 😁

This is basically where he is emotionally at the beginning of Banchetto underneath the hurt about his removal from his position and his brothers interference etc.

So why does he do what he does to poor reader? Well I think personally he has forgotten how to relate to people romantically other than sex. He hasn't had a traditional 'relationship' for many many years probably since he was a very young man and first learned about falling in love and heartbreak.

When he realises that reader is attracted to him he also finds her a distraction from wallowing in his depression and even though he had grown to hate no strings sex he falls back on that easy seduction to give him that taste of connection he craves. That is until he realises how much he hurt her by playing with her and that's when he realises

1. He may have found someone who really does care for HIM not what they can get from Papa. She has seen him at his worst. Complete rock bottom and still she cares?

2. He is beginning to care for her too. He looks forward to seeing her everyday and the light she brings into his life. He wakes up earlier so he can be up as soon as she arrives and he wracks his brains for question after question so he can justify following her around as she works. It's only when she disappears for that week after he cornered her that he realises this though.

And this is why they are taking it so slowly (aside from the fact she really does have a job to do which he tends to forget and at this point has completely forgotten). She has picked up on the fact that this is unfamiliar territory for him and really there is no need to rush right? What could possibly bring their happy little domestic bubble to be popped??? 😈

On that note I will leave it there. If you have got this far I love you 😚😚

[acewritesfics]

FIREFLIES | Tommy Shelby

⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY. MORE INFO IN MY PINNED POST.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: No but I was encouraged by @runnning-outof-time to write this. This is a extended version of my Fireflies mood board.

Fic Type: Imagine

Warnings: Death. Grief. Swearing. Murder.

Word Count: 1,922

TOMMY SHELBY MASTERLIST || TAG LIST SIGN-UP

"You're late," Y/N says as she senses Tommy walking towards her.   

"Late for what?" he asks as he reaches her.   

"To see the fireflies," she says turning her head to look at him. "But I guess there will be other nights that we'll get to see them. They aren't going anywhere, and neither am I."   

"I wish I could take you anywhere that you wanted," he tells her.   

"But I like being here," she smiles softly, turning her body to stand in front of him. "It's peaceful and the view is beautiful and even more so when you're here with me."   

"I'm sure it gets lonely," he sighs sadly, hating that his first love will always be tethered to this spot.   

"Maybe for a second but then the fireflies come out and I'm reminded of you," she tells him. "You were always my light in the darkness."   

"I was never the light, sweetheart," he says cupping her face in his hands. "You were always the light."  

"If you think that because of the man you've become, then think again, Thomas Shelby," she says placing her hands over his. She turns her head, kissing one of his palms before resting her head on it. "I knew you before the war and before you had blood on your hands. You were the only good thing in my life. And I know that man is still inside you."  

"He died with you," he tells her. "That man doesn't exist anymore."  

"Yes, he does," she smiles. "He'll be back, once you learn that despite everything that's happened, you're allowed to be happy and live the life you wanted back then."  

"I'll be living it without you," he sighs.  

"One day, you're going to meet someone and all I'll be is a distant memory," her voice is soft, but her words were loud in his ears.  

"Do you remember when we met?" Tommy asks, changing the direction of their conversation. Their surroundings blurred out and was replaced with the night they met.  

Tommy could see his 17-year-old self, sitting on a log in front of a campfire. Arthur Shelby Snr and a few of his buddies decided to take their families camping one weekend. It was there that Tommy met Y/N, daughter of one of his father's associates.   

The 16-year-old version of Y/N was dancing as a group of teenagers to the left were making music with the few instruments they owned. A very young Ada had taken her hands as she skipped and leaped and danced around the fire. The sky was pitch black; the moon bright in the sky but in the moon light and the glow from the fire, to Tommy, it made her look like an angel. Tommy had fallen in love for the very first time that night.  

Him and Y/N watched as the younger versions of themselves came together. 16-year-old Y/N had let go of Ada's hands telling her she needed a rest and that she'd be back shortly. She'd left the campfire and walked past the campers. 17-year-old Tommy whispered something to Arthur before following her.  

Tommy and Y/N follow them down to the creek that ran through the campground.   

"You're a good dancer," they listen to the younger Tommy tell her, causing her to jump slightly. He quickly apologises. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."  

"Apology accepted," she smiles, lifting her skirts up to her knees and dips her toes into the cold water. "And I wouldn't call myself a good dancer. The rhythm of the music does all the work, I just follow it."  

"It wasn't the music that had me captivated," he admits.  

"I'm sure it wasn't my dancing either," she chuckles, stepping into the cold water and kicks it around until it starts to feel warm.  

“I’m Thomas Shelby, but you can call me Tommy,” he introduces himself.  

“Y/N L/N,” she tells him her name. “It’s nice to meet you, Tommy.”  

From that moment the two of them were inseparable. You couldn’t find one without the other. They were both the happiest they’ve ever been. Everyone could see and feel the love the two held for each other. They were the king and queen of their own world, and they treated each other as such. Tommy gave her everything that he could with promises that one day, they’d be so rich that money wouldn’t be an issue and he could give her the grandest of all things. She would assure him that, even though those things would be nice, that all she needed was him.   

The scene in front of Tommy and Y/N is blurred out again and replaced with the original scene but this one was slightly different.   

It was the night he realized he wanted to marry her.   

On the anniversary of the day they met, they would come out to the field their families camped at and spent the night under the stars.   

Their first anniversary, Y/N, now 17, arrived at their spot earlier than Tommy. She starts the fire and sets up the picnic she had packed. As she sat waiting for Tommy, she thought about the trouble she would be in for sneaking out this late to meet the boy she’s been with for a year. It was worth it, being with Tommy.   

17-year-old Y/N’s been there a few minutes when the tree in front of her starts lighting up. There must be close to 50 of the little lightning bugs scattered along the tree. She’d read about fireflies and was always curious about them, but she wasn’t sure if she’d ever see them like this. The scene in front of her brings a certain warmth to her and her mind goes to Tommy.  

“I’m sorry, I’m late,” she faintly hears Tommy say as he approaches her. Y/N’s too focused on the bugs to reply.   

It isn’t until Tommy’s arms wrap around her that he finally gets her attention. That night she had fallen pregnant.  

The scene changes a little, everything looks the same, except the two of them are a little older, Tommy being 20 and Y/N being 19. Their relationship was going well, and their daughter was happy and healthy, but their family lives had taken a turn for the worse.   

Tommy’s mother had fallen ill not long after having Finn. After she died his father, Arthur Sr, had taken off, leaving Tommy and Arthur Jr to raise their younger siblings with their Aunt Polly’s help and deal with the debts his father owed. Not only that but they had the illegal betting den that needed a major up heave after the state their father left it in.   

Y/N’s father had become more paranoid, believing everyone was playing a part in some ploy to ruin his life. Her mother, who had enough of her husband’s behaviour had left, only leaving a note to explain her departure. She never bothered to tell Y/N about it either, only finding out when her father stormed into the store she worked at, yelling and shouting about how she was a part of her mother’s plan to leave. Once she managed to convince him that she had no part in it, her father seemed to calm down for a while.  

This was when Tommy new he couldn’t wait any longer to marry her. He wanted nothing more than to call her his wife. In the last year they had been coming more to their spot, needing to get away from everything for a moment. His proposal hadn’t been planned. They’d been sitting on a log, watching the fireflies fly around the tree, creating trails of light behind them. He turned to her, looking at her with so much love and said, “I think it’s time we get married.”  

She looked back at him, a soft smile on her lips. With all that love he was looking at her with reflected in her eyes, she says, “I also think it’s time.”   

As if Tommy knew where his mind was going with this, the scene changed. It once again was the same scene set at a different time. Tommy was late to meeting her at their spot. It was something he regretted to this day. Because instead of finding her sitting there waiting, with her smile that was only reserved for him, he found her by the creek, her closed soaked with water, her skin a ghostly shade and cold to the touch, her lungs filled with water instead of air and yet she looked so peaceful.   

Tommy still feels the pain as he broke down as if it were only yesterday. He doesn’t recall how long he stayed with her out there before bringing her to the hospital. He soon found out she’d been out to their spot hours earlier than they were supposed to meet. Her and her father had a massive fight and she needed to get away. Their spot was always a place she could spent hours at, reading, drawing, and just being with herself, clearing her head.   

Unfortunately, this time, her father had followed her out to the creek. Things got physical and he overpowered and drowned her in the creek. Instead of taking her to the hospital, he left her there for Tommy to find in some sick twist of paranoia, blaming him for taking his daughter away from him.  

Police ruled her drowning accidental despite all the evidence pointing to it not being that. It would be almost ten years later when justice would finally be served by Tommy’s own hand, what he had been through during the war, adding to the feeling of nothing as he put a bullet through Y/N’s father’s head.   

The scene shifts once more but this time they’re back to the first scene, her body is no longer laying on the creek bed.   

“Can you do me a favour?” Y/N asks him, breaking the somber silence that had fallen between them  

He nods and she stands on her tip toes to whisper something in his ear, before she shoves him into the cold water.  

Tommy wakes up from the dream with a jolt. He’s had the same dream almost every night since her death but this time the ending had changed. She had asked something of him, and he promised to fulfil it.  

Later that night, Tommy made his way to the field where their spot is. He could never bring himself to come back out here after she died. This is his first time back but this time he wasn’t alone. Sitting beside him on the log, is his 13-year-old daughter, Sophie.   

He pulls out the photographs that he has of Y/N. “See this place Sophie, this place is a very special place to me and your mother. Not only did we meet here, we also had many special moments here.” He starts handing her the photos, she’s seen many times of Y/N. Sophie had only been 2 when her mother was killed. That day, Sophie had been with Polly. “Your mother loved this spot, especially at night,” he continues as the tree begins to light up. “This is the reason why.”   

“The fireflies?” she asks, seemingly just intrigued by them as her mother was. 

In the faint glow of the fireflies and the moon above, he can see Y/N, smiling that smile reserved only for her little family. She blows them a kiss before she turns around and disappears into the darkness. 

“The fireflies,” He confirms, smiling down at his daughter. 

TAGGED: @chapter-in-my-old-diary - @hanawrites404 - @goblinjnr - @halsteadbrasil - @alexxavicry - @rainydayteacups

BOLD means your profile didn't come up when I tried to tag you. Sometimes it links when the post is posted but I don't know if you still get the notifications. Let me know if you get the notification. Here is a post that could help: WHY OTHERS CAN'T TAG YOUR BLOG

[rewh0re]

—968 words, angst, death, deep talks about life, cemeteries. yea ig that's it. yea also wrote this at 3 am guys i am mighty sleep deprived

a/n; atp I'm doing everything BUT studying or writing my gojo fic :D (gojo fic someday you'll see the light till then this megumi angst has to compensate for it) REBLOGS + FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED!!

megumi can never truly forget that memory.

he remembers clear blue skies and the occasional chirping of birds along with the flapping of their wings. white clouds slowly drifting in the air and dragonflies hovering over the grass. the trees were green and lush, the leaves gently rustling due to the cool breeze which could mean one thing alone—the advent of spring. there was a silence that washed his body with a strange type of peace, a peace he had never quite known, that he had just allowed himself to feel. and there was a presence—you—standing beside him, looking at the unknown grave, head tilted slightly and hands deep in your pockets.

he couldn't help but think—there was so much life bursting amidst a place that housed the dead.

megumi never liked cemeteries. they made him sad, unhappy, gloomy in a way. but you found a certain peace in them. to walk in silence, looking at the many graves—you had said it calmed one's soul. made one think. made one feel grateful for their life.

"it's almost amusing, don't you think?" you had asked, breaking your silence.

"dead people amuse you now?" megumi looked over at you to find you still looking at the grave. how could it ever be amusing to look at a stranger's grave? he swore that sometimes even you didn't understand what you were saying.

"no idiot," you shook your head, a little chuckle bursting out of your throat as your eyes locked with his.

"what i mean is," you sighed "that these people, they were people, like you and me. they had dreams and hopes and aspirations. they worked hard for their passions and hoped to achieve so much through their efforts. isn't it awful how many of these people might never have reached their dreams? their lives cut short as they were snatched away from their own loved ones?"

you ruffled your hair before crossing your arms, "i find it unfair. isn't it unfair? how you never know what will happen? how you, me—all of us—will just become another memory to be forgotten? how we'll just become dust, become one with the earth? our names, just some carvings on some stones and even then—everything will just go on as it is. life will go on. we're just lone stars burning out in the massive universe."

megumi could only look at you. you had that effect on him, rendering him speechless through your words alone. a few seconds passed before he finally found his voice again.

"well," he began, tone laced with a certain gentleness that only showed itself in your presence. "i see it more like the beauty of life. we're here and then we're not. we live and we love and we thrive and we falter. it's the way of life, or the rule of life, whatever you call it. i think that's why we have to make sure we make the most of it. life is unpredictable and that's what makes it so thrilling."

"i think you're right—well—in a way at least. i've learnt to cherish my life. i think with you by my side, i can stand strong and proud and i can live. i'm glad you found me and i found you and i'm glad that we're always by each other's side," you smiled up at him, nudging his shoulder.

"always?"

"always."

wasn't that the promise you made?

it was like looking through a glass window, so vividly was that day's image imprinted on his mind. he wanted to break that glass and take a hold of that memory and relive it again and again and again if it meant he could have you by his side. he definitely would do that if he could.

life is not really beautiful he learnt after he started visiting the cemetery more often. it was cruel, it was ruthless, it filled one with agony and suffering and pain. oh, so much pain.

he never looked at random graves anymore like he did before with you. no, he looked at just one. the name etched on the stone with a few leaves scattered at the base—l/n y/n.

it hurt, it truly did. through you, megumi learnt love and loss, he learnt heartbreak and grief and what it felt like to cry in the middle of the night wishing for you to hold him close and whisper i'm here. you never were though, you wouldn't be there anymore, you wouldn't cradle him and card your fingers softly through his hair or wipe his tears or kiss his worries away. you wouldn't and that was reality and he had to live with that reality.

megumi learnt through you how promises were only made to be broken—knowingly or unknowingly.

but you taught him how to love and to be loved, how to find beauty and peace in the mundane, how to dream big and how to care, to be kind.

he loved you but he had to let you go. alas, you wouldn't want him to be stuck, frozen in a place where darkness loomed and nothing but sheer heartache reigned supreme. maybe it was true that a part of him was gone. maybe it was true that he would never feel truly and completely whole again. but he could swear your ghost would curse at him if he didn't at least try to move forward.

so he laid a bouquet of white carnation at the base of your grave, uttering a silent prayer.

"always." he brought his index and middle finger to his lips and then placed it on the top of the headstone before standing up, burying his hands deep in his coat pockets.

"always." he whispered, letting his words get carried by the air before turning around to walk away.