#anyway I was also feeling hesitant about sharing this and will probably delete it later | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ethanesimp · 3 years ago

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WHEN YOU’RE GONE // D.D.

Pairing: Mob Boss! Damiano David x Mob GN! Reader (it was originally written with a fem! reader so please let me know if you spot any slip ups on my part)

Summary: Soulmates are already a difficult concept to grasp and things don’t seem to get any easier when you like a person who already has a soulmate.

Word Count: 9.8k (it’s so long lakjd)

Warnings: Swearing, death and mentions of it, injuries, angst -lots of it-, it’s a mob fic so violence, smoking, Damiano being kind of an asshole? Me probably using swear words in italian wrong... Just read with caution pls

Masterlist // Taglist link in bio

A/N: If you’ve seen this before, it’s probably because this has been written and posted on my other blog @pparkersbitch as a Tom Holland fanfiction at the beginning of the year (which has now been deleted). It’s the same person and I’m not stealing anyone’s work :) I just like it and wanted to bring it back. I did add/modify some tiny details though. The idea is probably dumb, but I’m sharing anyways.

Taglist: @gretavanfleetlove @superchrystaldrug @reputationdamiano

“This isn’t how I wanted to start my morning,” Your best friend mumbled in a tired voice. You could barely hear him from where you were standing over the sounds the old -and surely broken- coffee machine kept making and the music playing from his phone.

“Well, sucks to be us, huh?” You chuckled and poured coffee on both of your cups as you did a small dance to try and shake the tiredness off your body. You handed Damiano his cup after preparing his coffee the way he liked it, a teaspoon of sugar with a splash of milk, and walked with him to the large office down the hall, “I don’t get why Ethan and Thomas can’t do this instead of us.”

The room was always cold and you seemed to forget about it most of the time since it still slipped your mind to wear a sweater or hoodie over your thin pajama shirt. You grabbed one of the blankets from the small black couch on the corner of the room and wrapped it around your body as best as you could with your free hand.

You sat down on the chair next to him to have a better look at all the papers and files he had spread out on the desk, “What exactly are we looking for?” You asked with furrowed eyebrows. All those documents were enough to keep you occupied for the whole day if you didn’t work fast enough.

“We are looking for any leads to the drug cartel or its leader. Really anything that can help us find them,” Damiano explained and took a sip of his coffee as he opened the first file.

You had been trying to track a drug cartel ever since they infiltrated your warehouse and stole some of your products. Damiano’s father had been at both of your necks ever since it happened as if it had been your fault instead of the incompetent guards that were supposed to be guarding the entrance at all times, “I’m sure these are people we’ve made deals with in the past, they wouldn’t have been able to break in otherwise. We’ve always been far too careful for this to be a mere coincidence.”

He removed the gold ring from his ring finger and left it on the jewelry bowl you had placed on his desk. You had known Damiano David and his family for years. For as long as you had known him, the band on his ring finger had been gold, and you hated it.

That stupid little gold band was a silent reminder that he had met his soulmate and there was nothing to be done about it. For months you had silently hoped and prayed for Damiano to be your soulmate, but any illusion or wish you had of it happening, had vanished the moment you saw the gold ring on his finger for the first time. You later discovered he avoided wearing it on his hand because it put his soulmate at risk of being found, but he still kept it close to him at all times by using it as a necklace.

You avoided wearing yours for an entirely different reason. The black ring and all the stares and words of pity that came with it were saddening and something you didn’t need. While gold was a reminder of love and good luck, black was a reminder that your soulmate was no longer alive and you were doomed to spend the rest of your life alone. You were sure the band had been black for most of your life, or at least that’s how you remembered it.

It was safe to say you were jealous of Damiano’s soulmate, Marlee. Not only was she one of the most beautiful women you had ever met, but she got to have perhaps the most amazing man by her side until her dying day, something you could never have in any way that wasn’t platonic.

You successfully ignored it most days, which wasn’t so hard to do since you had better things to think about most of the time, but nights were always the hardest. In your loud and chaotic life, there was a speck in time where everything quieted and calmed down. During those few hours was when you’d break down and grieve for the person whose name you didn’t even get to know. You’d cry for being stupid enough to fall for someone who wasn’t only your best friend, but who also had a girlfriend.

“Damiano, Y/N?” Marlee’s sweet voice interrupted your train of thoughts. You had been reading the files consciously enough to notice anything unusual, but you had paid no mind to anything else until she walked into the room. You smiled politely at her and waved.

She walked up to Damiano and he immediately closed all files with any sort of photo that might be too graphic for her to look at. Marlee cupped his face and pressed her lips to his for a few moments that felt like an eternity to you, watching everything from the side as a feeling of jealousy invaded your senses. You did nothing but look at the painting on the wall until they stopped locking lips, which took a bit longer than you would’ve liked.

“Did you two find anything?” Marlee asked once she pulled away from Damiano. He gave her a look you knew as ‘I cannot tell you anything about the mob to keep you safe’. She had been involved with the mob’s administration for most of her life, only after she met Damiano and her father united his mob with Damiano’s did she stop working.

You had been brought in as a replacement of sorts once Marlee stopped doing any mob business per Damiano’s request. His parents had saved yours from a legal accident, which left you in debt with his family, so you didn’t have much say on whether you’d join the mob or not.

Something you were grateful for was that Damiano always kept your hands clean. No matter what business it was, he made sure to keep you out of any sort of situation in which you’d have to hurt or get hurt by another member of the mob. Most people that worked for Damiano didn’t have the pleasure of knowing him as the lenient and caring individual he was around you.

You excused yourself after spending a few more minutes flipping through the files in search of something but ultimately found nothing. It was supposed to be your free day, or at least that was what Damiano had promised. Apart from that impromptu search for information at 5 am, he promised he’d have Ethan, Vic, or Thomas help with anything he needed.

That was why you took the liberty to lock yourself inside your room and put your phone on silent. You desperately wanted to catch up on all the hours of sleep you had lost in between those early morning duty calls and coffee runs. No matter how much you enjoyed spending time with Damiano, you still missed your normal sleep schedule.

When you woke up a few hours later, the house was completely silent. The usual chatter coming from the kitchen wasn’t there, neither was the noise of Vic repeatedly firing bullets at the targets in the garden to practice her aim like she did every morning or the soft sound of Thomas softly strumming his guitar as he tried to piece an unplanned melody together with the assistance of Ethan’s drumming.

It wasn’t a Sunday, which meant they weren’t away visiting their families. They were all supposed to be home. That last thought made you nervous and you couldn’t help but wonder if something had happened while you were asleep. Being in the mob, you knew a lot of unexpected things happened all the time and you had to be prepared for them all.

You walked to the door, determined to investigate what was wrong. Your hand was already firmly grasping the doorknob and you were about to undo the lock when someone knocked harshly on the door, startling you.

Without hesitation, you jumped back and reached for the gun stuffed in one of the drawers nearby, “Y/N? You awake?”

You let go of the drawer’s handle and your tense body relaxed at the sound of Victoria’s raspy voice, “Fuck, Vic, you scared me,” You spoke as you opened the door to be met with her panicked blue eyes. Your eyebrows furrowed at her worried expression, but before you could ask, she grabbed you by the arm softly and dragged you out of the room.

Once you were in the hallway, you finally heard everything with a lot more clarity. The faint sound of glass clinking before falling to the floor, Thomas’s exasperated shouts, and Damiano’s complaints. You looked at Victoria, expecting an explanation.

“I don’t know what happened,” She began, “One second he was alright, then at like 9 AM Ethan and I heard them fighting. She’s gone and Damiano’s locked in his room, won’t let anyone in. Thomas is trying to get him to talk while Ethan looks for the keys.”

You walked past Victoria and ran up the stairs. Damiano’s room was right above yours. Upon walking up to the third floor of the house, you saw Thomas repeatedly knocking on Damiano’s door. Once he heard footsteps and spotted you, it was like relief washed all over him at the sight of you.

“Do you mind trying?” He asked, “He’s been asking for you,” Thomas added with a sigh as he brushed his messy hair out of his forehead. You nodded and got closer to the door once he got out of the way.

With hesitation, you knocked on the door and patiently waited for a response, which arrived only after you knocked once again, “Vaffanculo, Thomas! Which part of your tiny fucking brain cannot understand that I want to be left alone?”

You flinched at his words and took a long breath as you gathered the confidence to speak up, “I-It’s Y/N, Dami,” You said, loud enough for him to hear you from where he was. You were expecting rejection; if Damiano didn’t want to talk to people who were as close to him as siblings, why would he talk to you? Sure, you were one of his best friends, but he’d known Thomas for longer than he—

Your thoughts were interrupted when Damiano opened the door and quickly dragged you in before slamming it shut once more. For the first few minutes, you stood in silence while Damiano faced the door. You couldn’t see his face or his eyes, so you had no idea what could be going through his mind, so you focused on your surroundings instead.

The room was a mess, but not more than it usually was. What alarmed you was the shattered glass on the floor as well as the drops of blood that stained the white floor. You looked back at your best friend and noticed that it was dripping from his hand.

“Damiano,” You called, “Amore, your hand,” He turned to look at you and that’s when you finally saw his red and swollen eyes as well his tear-stained cheeks. His gaze softened once his eyes fell on yours. He choked back a sob and turned away from you once again.

If his hand hadn’t been bleeding, you wouldn’t have hesitated on wrapping your arms around his neck and trying to comfort him. Instead, you ran to his bathroom to grab the first-aid kit. After years of being in the business, treating Damiano’s cuts and injuries wasn’t anything new to you, but you were oblivious as to why he was in such a state in the first place.

Being the person he was, Damiano had learned to conceal his emotions incredibly well to protect himself, even around the people he trusted the most. You had only seen him that shaken once when something had gone terribly wrong. The fact that Marlee was gone too only gave you a worse feeling. The fact that her clothes were all gone from the closet didn’t ease your worried mind either.

Damiano was sitting on the bed patiently waiting for you to return. Once you did, he avoided your gaze and said nothing as you examined his hand. The cuts were all superficial and would surely cure on their own in a few days, which was why you only focused on removing the tiny shards of glass that had stuck to his skin with a pair of tweezers.

Once that was done and you had cleaned the cuts, you wrapped a bandage around his hand once and secured it with a small piece of tape. You sat in silence for a while, you didn’t comment on the sobs that would escape his lips every once in a while or the tears that had started falling down his cheeks.

Instead, you waited until he was ready to say something, “I don’t even know how to tell you this,” Damiano mumbled. His eyes stayed glued to the floor. He seemed… embarrassed to look you in the eye.

“I was finally going to do it this morning, N/N,” He said as a sigh escaped past his lips and he took a small velvet box out of his pocket. He didn’t have to say what was inside the box because you knew exactly what it was. Damiano had been planning on proposing for months, but there was always something that managed to get in the way of completing his goal.

“She went to the bathroom and had left her phone on my bedside table. I was going to get the ring and Y/N… I-I swear to God I didn’t want to look but the messages kept coming, one after the other, the fucking phone wouldn’t stop making noise. Cazzo, she was the one feeding information to the drug cartel and Lord knows to who else,” He said those words in one breath and you had barely been able to catch them all. Damiano threw the box at the wall angrily and from the noise, you didn’t doubt there’d be an indent there.

“I asked her about it and you have no idea how much I wished she’d deny it, but she didn’t even try,” Damiano cried. Unexpectedly, Damiano turned his body around to face yours and wrapped his arms around your waist while he buried his face on your neck.

It took you by surprise, but you said nothing. Instead, you focused on rubbing circles on his back and whispering soothing words into his ear. Part of you knew there was something else going on, even if you didn’t ask. You hadn’t seen Damiano cry in a long time and even then you saw nothing more than just a few tears rolling down his cheeks. What happened with Marlee had truly driven him right to the edge and he couldn’t keep in everything he had been trying so hard to hide.

In the four months that followed, you didn’t see Marlee once. She never had the guts to return after Damiano found out about everything she had been doing behind his back. At first, he had been utterly destroyed by her absence, it pained you to see him shut everything and everyone out with the lame excuse that he had work to do. Every single time he did so, you’d quietly sit down and help him despite his complaints.

He got better though. Once enough time passed, he healed, but all that love he had once felt for her was now nothing more than pure hatred every single time her name was mentioned. You knew better than anyone that it wasn’t the healthiest thing to do, but it didn’t matter how many times you told him so because it never truly changed much.

As for the mob, things seemed to calm down once Damiano and Ethan were able to track down the leader of the drug cartel and get the stolen products back. Everything was too good and too quiet. While your four friends enjoyed all that peace, you couldn’t help but worry about something being wrong. It was a silly thing anyway, there was nothing that gave you even the slightest confirmation that your worry wasn’t just fueled by paranoia, not a single thing.

You should’ve been grateful instead. Your sleep schedule had gotten acceptably regular and there was no more working from 5 am to 10 pm every single day. You also had time to finally sit down and read the books that had been sitting on your untouched shelf ever since the start of the year, just like you were doing at that very moment while the boys were playing poker in the basement and Vic was on a date.

Damiano walked into your room eventually, still smelling like the cigarette he had just been smoking minutes back. He couldn’t help but scrunch up his nose as the smell of lemon incense burning hit his nostrils.

You looked up and giggled at his disgusted expression, “You cannot be disgusted when you were the one who walked into my room smelling like cigar and beer,” Damiano rolled his eyes and plopped down on the bed next to you.

“Incense is bad for you,” You shot Damiano a killer look and closed your book. He gave you a funny look back and then put his attention on your book, “What are you reading anyway?”

You hummed and showed him the cover. It had a beautiful yet simple design, which accurately represented the story hidden in between those pages, “Okay so, it’s the story of these people that all get invited to this island. They’re all summoned there for different reasons but it turns out they all have this common enemy. It’s terrifying because they get killed off one by one when a children’s lullaby plays. I truly cannot explain it enough to do justice to how intense this book is.”

“Oh and before that I got to read the most wonderful romance book! It was apparently the first book written where soulmates weren’t a thing and it was just a piece of art. Beautifully written, made me cry for hours too.”

Damiano smiled and you could almost see all the gears turning inside his brain, “Wouldn’t it be amazing?”

“What would?”

He shrugged and propped himself up on his elbows to get a better look at you, “A world without soulmates, where you’re not bound to someone since birth.”

You sighed and turned to look at him, “It’s our own fault… being bound, I mean. No angel from the heavens came down to tell us we have to love our soulmate as anything more than a close friend, you know? It can be purely platonic, we’re just stupid.”

“Were you ever able to fall in love with your soulmate or was it just platonic?” Damiano asked. You never talked much about soulmates with him. He still didn’t know your soulmate had been dead for as long as you could remember.

“I never got to know them,” You smiled sadly and showed him the black ring you had gotten used to wearing around your neck, carefully tucked under your shirt to stay unseen. His mouth fell open as he grabbed the ring and inspected it closely. It was the first time he had seen a black ring.

“I didn’t know… I’m sorry,” Damiano let the ring go. You shrugged and waved your hand to silently show it wasn’t too important, “I thought you guys were separated or something.”

You shook your head, “Mom says the ring turned black when I was six, but I don’t really remember so I just like to pretend I never had one in the first place… I don’t know.”

There was a question on the tip of your tongue, but you didn’t want to ask it, as intrigued as you were to know the answer. You hadn’t talked about her ever since she left and he’d most likely avoid the question because he truly wanted to keep her name out of his mouth. Nonetheless, he noticed your hesitance because you suddenly got too silent.

“You can ask, you know? I know I just touched on a sensitive topic, so…” You nodded. Both of you were lying on your backs, looking up at the ceiling which had some of those glow-in-the-dark stars and planets you had glued when you first moved in to feel less lonely.

You hummed softly as you tried to find the right words. You didn’t want to be too straightforward with your question in fear of upsetting your best friend even though he had asked you the same question minutes earlier, “Did-did you ever… you know, fall in love with her?”

Damiano thought about it in silence, you had probably caught him off-guard with your question, “No, not really. Not in the way I was expecting at least. You know truth be told, I was a bit disappointed. Don’t get me wrong, she had this angelic look to her, she was a stunning girl. I just- there was nothing we had in common other than being soulmates. For years I had seen my parents act like they shared one mind and just thought the same things. I always imagined it’d be like that for me too.

“My expectations couldn’t have been further from what it truly was like. Honestly, I’m not even sure which part of our relationship was true anymore. Now that I look back on it, I’ve realized most of the things she did or said were just to get information out of me.”

It was weird to hear him say all that. As a person who always got to look at the way Marlee and Damiano interacted with one another, you would’ve never expected Damiano to feel that way, “And,” He continued, “I was expecting it to be someone else.”

His last confession made you turn around to look at him. It was the first time he had admitted that, probably because of the beer he had been drinking while playing with his friends.

“I know it sounds terrible but… I met her and this other person on the same day, almost at the same time. I didn’t notice my ring had turned gold until much later. I had only been with them both and people I already knew. I thought it had been the other person until she told me her ring had changed too. Meanwhile, the other one said nothing. Now I realize it would’ve been impossible for them to be my soulmate.”

It might’ve been because he was telling you all those things and you felt safe to admit what you felt, or maybe because you were tired of bottling it up for so long. Either way, you spoke up, not caring if you’d regret it later, “It’s not as terrible as you might think.”

“Look, I’m not bound to anyone. The black ring gives me the freedom of loving someone else. I never met my soulmate so there’s no guilt in being with someone else. It’s supposed to be a perfect thing, Dami, only it isn’t. I know a lot of people who’re also blacksouled,” You hated using the word. It was usually how people would refer to those who didn’t have a soulmate anymore, “And I fell in love.”

“T-that’s great!” Damiano replied, “Why didn’t you tell me? I mean, not like you’re obliged to tell me anything just because we’re friends but I-”

You interrupted his rant, “I fell in love with someone whose soulmate’s still alive.”

“So what? You said it yourself. Are they together?” He asked. You told him they weren’t. If only he knew you were talking about him… He’d probably run away and never speak to you again, “Then fuck it. Fuck the rules and everything else society has to say.”

“It’s not that simple, Dami. I truly wish it was, but it isn’t,” You wanted nothing more than for the conversation to be over. If it went any further, you knew you’d spill every single thing. It had gotten far too hard to conceal your feelings when you were close to him. Now that you were talking about them, it’d be even harder.

You got up and walked to your bookshelf, where you started accommodating your books as an excuse to avoid being so close to him, to avoid his curious gaze. Even if they weren’t together anymore, you knew Damiano would reject you, that was far too obvious. Even if he felt the same, after what happened, it’d take Damiano a lot of effort to ever trust someone in such an intimate way, even if that someone was you, his best friend.

“Why? It is that simple. If they’re not together, what’s stopping you? You’ll never know what could happen if you don’t try,” You turned around to look at him, fists clenched by your sides, “Listen Y/N, I know you’re scared of relationships and everything they involve but you cannot let that sto—”

“Fine then, I’m in love with you! I can barely breathe when I’m around you because my love for you is so suffocatingly strong, and I can’t think straight either! You and your stupidly handsome face drive me insane. How’s that?” You admitted, interrupting his small speech midway, too irritated to process what you had just said. Once you did, your hand flew to your mouth and you shook your head. You wanted to say it wasn’t true, no, it was nothing more than a lie to get him to stop poking his nose into your love life. Except it wasn’t and, if you were being honest, no part of you wanted to hide it anymore.

Just like you expected, he said nothing. Damiano stayed silent for a few seconds before getting up and walking out without another word. He slammed the door on the way out so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if the door separated from its hinges.

For the weeks that followed, Damiano avoided you as much as possible. You were still his right-hand person and needed to be present at every meeting and would have to discuss any type of business with him. It used to be your favorite part of the day when you got to sit in the meeting room with Damiano and discuss plans to make the mob prosper, now it was nothing but uncomfortable because you’d do all the talking while he looked at you as if his biggest desire was to carve your heart out with his pocket knife.

While you understood that he was still mad at Marlee and wanted nothing to do with her, you didn’t understand why he was treating you that way when you had nothing to do with it and weren’t to blame for the stupid shit his ex had tried to pull. You thought he knew that you loved him far too much to ever do anything to jeopardize his safety. Yet again, he might’ve assumed the same thing about Marlee.

You walked out of yet another unsuccessful meeting with Damiano and slammed the door as hard as you could to let him know how much his childish behavior annoyed you. Ethan was standing close to the door and you could see the shadow of a smile that was threatening to break out and illuminate his face, “Don’t you dare,” He raised his hands in defense and bit his lip to try and hide the smile that would just annoy you further.

“You two are starting to act like two teenagers and it’s fucking pathetic,” Thomas chimed in from where he was sitting on one of the couches.

“Yeah? Tell that to your friend who is giving me the silent treatment like a fucking toddler! I just want- I need to have a serious conversation with him,” You admitted and sighed as you fell on the couch right next to Thomas, head in your hands to try and cover up the tears that were threatening to spill down your cheeks.

Both men stayed silent as they watched you, Even though you could feel their stares, you decided to focus on not crying instead. The truth was, the longer Damiano spent ignoring you, the more you regretted telling him what you had been bottling up for years, it had been a mistake there was no coming back from. Unless he decided to stop acting like a kindergartener, things would never go back to the way they were.

It was frustrating to think that your friendship would go to shit just because of your confession. Being rejected by him wouldn’t have been a big deal if he had actually stayed in your room and spoken like the adult he was.

“For the record, I think he’s acting like an idiot because he’s scared,” Sighed Victoria, who had just walked into the room with an ice pack placed over her hand, “I know it’s been a while but, give him time. He’ll come around or I’ll make him, I promise.”

You gave Victoria a tight-lipped smile and nodded. You hoped more than anything that it wouldn’t have to come to getting locked up in the same room as Damiano to get him to speak to you.

Except… as more days passed, you feared it would most likely have to be that way because he was still saying nothing to you. He had only spoken once and it had been to call you out for being doing everything wrong while looking through some important documents when you were, in fact, doing everything just like he had initially requested. Now, not only had he been giving you the cold shoulder, but he had started acting like a complete jerk around you too.

You tried to distract yourself by focusing on all the work you had pending, but it wasn’t working. Every single day, no matter what you were doing, your mind still wandered back to the brown-eyed man and his stupid face, his stupid hair, and stupid smile.

Even as you stood in the middle of the kitchen, your thoughts made it difficult to bake the cookies you had been craving all week. You had started to work on the second batch after the first one came out disgustingly salty because somewhere along the process you had mistaken the salt for the sugar.

You hated how bothered you were by the whole situation. It had affected you way more than you would’ve liked to admit. Truth be told, you had never felt sad about his rejection because it was something you had expected ever since that attraction for him first settled on your brain. It was the way he was treating you that got on your nerves.

That was mainly the reason why you were so thankful for being alone in the house at that very moment. Apart from a few security guards here and there, you were completely alone. You allowed yourself to relax for a split second and connected your phone to the speaker system in the kitchen. You started playing one of your favorite playlists before getting back to making cookies the right way this time.

You softly swayed your body along to the music as you dumped all the ingredients on the large bowl in front of you. As you poured the flour in the bowl and mixed it with your hands, you noticed Damiano standing by the door. For some unknown reason, he scared you so bad you accidentally tipped the bowl and made a mess of the counter.

A frustrated sigh escaped past your lips and you threw your head back, feeling defeated and irritated, “I’m sorry,” Damiano spoke up hesitantly, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You shook your head and wiped your hands on the apron you had tied around your waist, “It’s fine,” You turned around so your back was to him and started wiping the counter with a damp towel.

“You deserve so much better…” You heard him speak up over the music. His words caught you by surprise. You turned around to look at him but said nothing. You could tell he was nervous by the way his hands trembled by his sides and the way his jaw was firmly clenched.

After a few minutes of hesitation, Damiano started walking to where you were. He placed his hands on the counter by your sides, leaving you trapped in between the counter and his body. You looked into his dark eyes to maybe try and guess what was going through his mind.

You breathed in so deeply your chest hit his. You gulped at that and tried to control your trembling hands without looking away.

“What you said the other day, did you mean it?” Damiano asked, without hesitation this time around. Your eyes widened.

“I-I… What?”

“Just answer me Y/N, please,” Damiano pleaded. He looked so desperate to know the answer, which only made your blood boil. After weeks of silence, of glares and being a jerk, he dared to just show up and demand answers?

You shook your head and pointed your finger at his chest, “How dare you?” You took a step towards him, which made Damiano take a step back, “You have no right to show up like this and ask me to give you answers after how much of an asshole you’ve been.”

He seemed taken aback by your truthful words, but you didn’t care. If he wanted to know how much truth had been behind your words that night, he’d have to hear it all, “You know I’m your best friend and you also know I’d keep up with anything you do because that’s how much I care about you, but can you stop it? I know I was stupid for telling you because of what you just went through and I’m sorry, but please don’t keep giving me the cold shoulder. I just want to fix this.”

After a few minutes of silence, you shrugged and, like it was the simplest thing in the world, spoke up, “And yeah, I meant every word.”

Your expression softened as you waited for any sort of reaction from Damiano. You expected something similar to what had happened the day you first told him. No part of you expected him to cup your face with his warm, calloused palms to bring your face closer to him once again.

Neither did you expect to feel his soft lips pressed against yours, or the feeling of his soft hair as you brushed it back with your fingers and your eyes slowly closing as you basked on the joy and pleasure his soft touches caused.

Damiano was gentle as he held your face in between his hands, almost as if you were made of glass and he was afraid of breaking you into pieces if he didn’t hold you delicately enough. That kiss felt so intimate, like nothing you had ever felt before. Everything from the way he held you to his slow movements and touches was so much better than you could’ve ever imagined.

When he pulled away, he left you completely breathless, wordless. There was nothing you could possibly say after the way he had kissed you, so you waited for him to find the right words instead.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Damiano mumbled. He still hadn’t let go of your face, “You truly deserve better. You are so beautiful, so perfect. I’m so sorry for being such an idiot and hurting you, ignoring you. I just- I know I cannot love you as you deserve. Believe me, I want nothing more than to have you close to me all the time, to kiss your lips until you grow sick of me, but I can’t,” His voice was starting to crack as he said those words to you and you knew it was because of how he saw your face fall.

“No, no, shut up and listen to me,” You pleaded and placed your hands on top of his. You gave them a soft squeeze and let your forehead rest against his, “I know it’s hard for you to trust after what happened with her and I know it’s not going to be easy, but believe me, I’m willing to try if you are, Damiano.”

“You were that other person,” He confessed and got closer to kiss you once more, with as much passion as the last time. You were too concentrated on the smell of his musky cologne and the faint taste of vanilla chapstick he had surely stolen from your room to respond to his comment.

His hands fell from your face and comfortably rested on your hips as his lips attacked yours. Damiano pushed you against the counter and kept savoring the moment as if it were the first and last time he’d kiss you like that. You hoped for your sake it wouldn’t be the last.

Damiano pulled away reluctantly and unexpectedly lifted you up so you’d sit on the counter. He stood in between your legs and intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Remember when I told you about the person I met the day I met Marlee?” You nodded, “That was you... Ever since I met you I’ve felt this inexplicable attraction towards you and it’s been driving me insane. I couldn’t believe it when you told me you loved me because I’ve done nothing to deserve it.”

“You’ve done so much to deserve it, so so much,” You mumbled and brought him close to you to kiss him for the third time. It was such an addicting feeling and both your heart and mind were screaming to feel it again.

That time around, Damiano didn’t hesitate to lift you up once more, he carried you to his room and locked the door.

—

It had been a few weeks since your conversation in the kitchen. Things returned back to normal after that night. Other than your relationship with Damiano, things were the same again. You had to go back to working at ungodly hours of the morning thanks to some suspicious activity Ethan had noticed. Apparently, one of the oldest members of Damiano’s mob had tried to establish a deal with an unknown subject but had been caught before he could accomplish it.

This put you both on edge because there was someone out there desperate to break into the mob and finish it for good. At first, you thought it wasn’t more serious than whatever had happened with Marlee, but Damiano’s father proved you wrong the moment he brought you, their most loyal employee, in for questioning.

It had been nothing too serious, at least not in comparison to what you had heard others say. In your case, it had been done mostly as a standardized protocol, to stop others from thinking there was some sort of preference or special treatment towards you just because you worked so close to Damiano. You knew almost everything Damiano did, so you were possibly the greatest source of information outside the David family and their small circle of friends.

“Amore?” Damiano asked softly as his hand caressed the exposed skin of your waist. You had been cuddling in bed for almost two hours with the excuse that you needed a break after all the hard work you’d done, “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You turned around to be face to face with him and pressed a kiss to his freckled nose, “Not much. I was just remembering I need to get my ring resized again. I tried putting it on a few days ago and it didn’t fit anymore.

Damiano frowned at your words, “Your soulmate ring?”

“Mhm,” You responded simply and let your head rest on his chest. You enjoyed the feeling of warmth his body irradiated, it was soothing and the soft sound of his rhythmic heartbeat never failed to make you feel calmer.

“Soulmate rings don’t need to be resized, ever. Not that I know of, at least,” Now it was your turn to frown because, as far as you remembered, you had always gone to get your ring resized by a family friend who didn’t live too far away. No one had ever told you it wasn’t necessary.

You pulled away from his embrace and reached for the bedside table where you had been keeping the ring for the past few days. Once you turned back around, Damiano looked confused and almost scared, “Just, out of curiosity, tesoro. Have you ever taken off the ring and left it like far away for longer than a few hours?”

A giggle escaped past your lips at his silly question, “It’s just a piece of jewelry, Dami. Of course, I have, several times.”

You laughed nervously once you saw his horrified expression. Damiano was starting to scare you, but you knew better than to say something because you’d end up looking like a fool if he started laughing and told you it was all a joke. Except, it didn’t seem like one.

“Please get dressed and meet me in room five, okay? I might be going insane but I just need to make sure I’m not,” Before you could ask any questions, Damiano had already grabbed a pair of pants and a t-shirt and disappeared into the bathroom to get dressed.

You tried not to think much about his weird questions and got dressed quickly instead. You grabbed your cup of tea, which had already gone cold, and walked to meeting room five.

You opened the door and were surprised to see all your friends already sitting around the small table you’d use for informal meetings. Thomas and Victoria looked tired and Ethan’s long hair was tangled and messy. That gave you the impression that Damiano had most likely woken them all up for your impromptu meeting.

They all looked just as confused as you felt. There were a lot of questions you wanted to ask, but Ethan beat you to it, “Okay, now that we’re all here can you fucking explain why you had to wake me up? Please.”

“Have any of you three—,” Started Damiano, referring to Thomas, Victoria and Ethan, “—tried to take off your ring for a while but have started feeling sick and weird?”

Thomas and Victoria looked at each other, confused, but nodded. Ethan did after a few seconds of thinking about it, “Yeah, there was actually this one time I went on a date and I didn’t want the girl to see the ring had turned gold, so I left it at home. Thirty minutes later I was puking everywhere. I didn’t really understand why but someone at the Soulmate Centre explained rings are an extension of the soul and they need to be close to us at all times and there are actually records of people dying after losing their rings. Why?”

Damiano looked at you and raised his eyebrows to silently ask if he could share the information with the other three guys. Once you nodded, Damiano spoke up, “Y/N doesn’t need to have it close to them and they need to get it resized every once in a while.”

Ethan shrugged his shoulders, “That’s as far as my knowledge goes. I don’t know. I think the best thing you can do is go to the SC.”

You sighed but nodded. Ethan’s explanation had started to freak you out. What if there was something terribly wrong with you? What if you were born without a ring and your parents lied to you all your life?

—

After having a short conversation with Damiano in private, you decided to follow Ethan’s advice and go to the Soulmate Centre that was only a few minutes away from your house. He wanted to go with you or send someone to watch over you but had accepted your petition to go alone after you told him it was a private matter and you'd tell him all about it once you got back.

So there you were, on the reception of the SC, with your sweaty hands intertwined together as you tried to ignore all the dirty looks people were giving you. Everyone around knew exactly who you were and most weren't one bit pleased to see you there. While some didn't hesitate to look at you like they wanted to kill you, others were afraid to do so.

Those few minutes that passed until the lady at the desk called your name were some of the most uncomfortable of your life. Some part of you hated having the mobster title because that usually gave people the wrong idea and drove them to hate you even if you could proudly say you had done nothing illegal or violent in your whole life. You had to admit the mob wasn’t an ideal job to have morally wise, but you had found a family inside those four walls others doomed to be cursed.

You walked up to the lady. She had what you could interpret as a nervous smile as she stood behind the desk, patiently waiting for you to tell her what had brought you there in the first place. You were hesitant to communicate your issue because you were mortified of finding out a truth that should probably stay hidden.

You reached back and unclasped the chain the ring was looped through. You left it on the counter and smiled softly as you shyly spoke, “So uh, good morning, ma’am. I was hoping you could take a look at my ring, I’m slightly concerned there was something wrong with it.”

The lady nodded and removed the ring from the chain. She inspected it closely for a few minutes before nodding her head towards one of the rooms that said ‘only employees allowed’. She started walking towards it with a quick step and you saw no other choice but to follow right behind her.

She opened the door and quickly closed it with a lock once she verified you were inside, “Listen, the only reason I’m not turning you over to the authorities is because you don’t strike me as someone stupid enough to walk into an SC with a soulmate ring like this.”

Your jaw dropped in surprise at how direct she was being. For a second, you noticed her face fall before she realized it was best to keep a face that communicated seriousness instead of begging for your forgiveness or whatever people did when they pissed Damiano off.

“I don’t know who gave this to you or in which illegal market you bought this but if a higher authority sees you with this, not even Damiano David could save you from the consequences of sporting a fake ring,” She said. You honestly didn’t know how to respond because panic had started to drown out any coherent thought that tried to form on your mind.

You didn’t even try to disguise your panicked expression that time around. Instead, you focused on regulating your breathing and trying to keep all your emotions at bay before you lost control and began to hyperventilate. The other woman noticed your distress almost immediately and led you to sit down on one of the couches.

After you took a few deep breaths, you looked back at her, eager to ask thousands of questions, “How can you know they are fake?”

She sat down next to you and put the ring on your palm, “Look at the inside,” She demanded while pointing her finger to a spot on the inside edge of the ring, “They usually have something engraved inside, a code that only repeats itself twice. Whenever one loses their soulmate, this code vanishes. Your code is still there. I also used a detector to confirm my suspicions and it detected nothing.”

“And with… with that code, can you tell me if my soulmate’s still alive? Or who they are?” The older lady looked at you with pity in her green eyes and shook her head.

“Unless this is the original code engraved on the real ring, there’s not much I can do for you other than telling you how your soulmate is. I need so much more information to ever give you a name,” You nodded in understanding. All you needed to know was if they were alive, that’s all you wanted.

She took your nod as a sign of approval and disappeared into another room. While you waited, you couldn’t help but secretly hope they were dead. You wanted all those weeks of bliss you had spent with Damiano to last a lifetime. He knew everything about you, from the number of scars scattered around your body to what book you had read the most times. No soulmate could learn that about you until years after meeting each other. Besides, it wouldn’t feel right. The Gods had already been too cruel for not making him your soulmate, but now that he wasn’t with Marlee and you knew he loved you just as much as you loved him…

She walked out of the room and cleared her throat to catch your attention. You were thankful for her interruption because you were mere seconds away from bursting into tears of distress. She looked nervous to tell you what she had found out, but the way you looked at her made her spill the truth without any warning.

“Your soulmate is still somewhere out there, alive.”

—

Damiano clutched his side with his hands as every type of curse word spilled from his mouth, “Thomas! Dammit Thomas, where the fuck are you?” He screamed and pushed the ache in his throat and side to the back of his mind as he limped towards the table where his loaded gun was placed, ready to be grabbed and shot.

Things had been perfectly fine just ten minutes back. He had been drinking and playing pool with the boys in the basement. They were all laughing and messing around when Victoria heard the first gunshot. Thomas had been quick to dismiss it as one of the guards practicing his accuracy like they did every once in a while, so they went back to playing the game.

Then they heard it again and again and again. In that time it took the four men to walk up the stairs, people had already successfully broken into the house and they were shooting at anything that moved. The blood-red snake symbol all these people had on the masks that were covering their faces was one he had grown far too familiar with. These were the people Marlee had been conspiring with and they had managed to overthrow every single line of defense in between them and the front door.

Damiano had been in his room fetching a gun when a smoke bomb was thrown into the room. It had stopped him from seeing the person who shot him. Thankfully enough, their vision wasn’t much better either, because the bullet only grazed his side. It was still painful as hell and blood was pouring out of the wound, but it wasn’t going to be anything deadly.

He finally got ahold of his gun after minutes of feeling around the table to try and spot it with the low amount of vision he still had. Once Damiano had it in his hands, he raised the scarf he was wearing to cover the lower part of his face to try and lower the quantity of smoke he inhaled.

He walked out of his room and into the hallway, still holding the gun firmly ready to shoot it at the first person he saw with that red symbol. Damiano opened the door to every room on the third floor. He had to shoot at one or two people before walking down to the floor below. The first room he opened was yours. His eyes went wide as he remembered you were still supposed to be at the SC. Damiano cursed under his breath. He needed to warn you not to come back but to go to your parents’ instead. Damiano opened the tracking app first, a precaution he had been insistent on taking just to make sure you both knew the other was safe.

“Fucking hell,” Damiano mumbled as he saw that blue dot with your name above it was right on the same spot as his. You were back home.

Every thought of investigating each and every room to make sure there was no intruder flew out the window and instead he focused on trying to find you. Everything had turned chaotic on those few minutes he had been in your room, which was why it had gotten harder to get around without finding someone waiting on almost every corner for him to appear.

Damiano heard a piercing scream that made his blood go cold. You were in danger somewhere inside the large home and he desperately needed to get to you, to make sure you were safe from any danger. He knew his friends would be perfectly fine, they had their guns and several types of weaponry close-by, but he knew you didn’t. You always refused to take a gun or dagger with you whenever you went out and if they had caught you right when you had just gotten back… you’d most likely have nothing to defend yourself with.

There was no doubt in his mind that you were witty and incredibly smart, not to mention agile and great at coming up with plans on the spot, but he still needed to make sure you were alright.

He got down on the first floor and his eyes met with a pair of blue ones he knew far too well. He let his eyes trail down to her carmine-tinted shirt. Marlee smiled at him and trailed her thumb along her jawline. That’s when he noticed her hands were also red and she had also left a trail of bloody footsteps from his office to where she was standing. His office.

Damiano didn’t hesitate to point the gun at her leg and pull the trigger. He then aimed for her other leg and shot it. She fell to the floor as an agonizing scream fell from her parted lips. Damiano was satisfied now that her stupid smile had been wiped right off her face.

He quickly ran to the office and opened the door. What he saw inside made time stop. It made all those sounds go silent. It made him feel like there was no floor beneath him to stand on. You were lying on the floor, a dagger piercing your chest.

You looked panicked, sad, like you wanted to do nothing but scream and cry, which you had started doing the moment you saw Damiano walked into the room. He didn’t know if your reaction was out of relief or if there was something else that concerned you, apart from the obvious.

“Damiano,” You spoke up weakly, The sound of your raspy voice was like a slap back into reality. He didn’t waste a second to fall to his knees right by your side. Damiano cupped your face with his trembling hands and brushed your cheek with his thumb.

“Shh. I’m here amore, I’m here,” He responded voice barely above a whisper, “I just need to find something to press against this wound I— something…” He stood up, ready to look for a rag, bandages, anything to stop the blood from rushing out of your body so quickly, but you stopped him.

You wrapped your hand around his arm and with all the strength you had brought him back down, “No hey, stop,” You mumbled, “Unless she happened to study every major artery, vein or has awfully perfect aim, I’ll be dead in minutes.”

He shook his head and wiped the tears that were starting to fall with the back of his hand. He was not giving up. Damiano was not going to let you die, “Wait, no, no. I can do this,” Damiano took his sweater and scarf off. With the help of his scarf, he applied pressure to the wound, careful not to move or dig the dagger further with his movements.

You shook your head and Damiano couldn’t help but cry harder at the desperation and panic in your eyes, “Please, Dami. Stop it, there’s no use. I-I just want you to hold me, please.”

He wiped his runny nose with the back of his hand and nodded repeatedly as he careful cradled you in his arms and moved your head to rest on his lap, “Everything’s going to be okay,” Damiano mumbled and left a long kiss on your forehead, then another one on your cheek and a last one on your lips.

You cupped his face with one of your hands and wiped the tears with your thumb. There wasn’t much left to say, not like you’d be able to talk even if you tried. Instead, you offered him one last sincere smile with all the energy you had left.

He watched in horror as life slowly started to drain out of you as his ring simultaneously turned black. Damiano sat there for minutes after you were gone. He cried and let every frustration, confusion, and pain escape his body with a loud scream.

Damiano didn’t let go of your body until Victoria and Thomas had to forcefully pull him away and let someone else take care of you.

—

Ethan didn’t walk into the room until he made sure every single intruder had been killed, except for Marlee, because Damiano had asked to keep her alive. When he did walk in, all he saw was Damiano with a folder in his hand and multiple pieces of paper scattered around the desk in his room. He looked pale, mortified by everything he was reading. The long-haired man didn’t understand what had gotten his friend in such a state of shock until he walked closer and looked at what seemed to be a contract.

You were Damiano’s soulmate. All your lives you had been tricked into believing you weren’t meant for each other. Your parents had made you believe you had no soulmate and Damiano had been fooled into thinking Marlee was his. You had gotten right to the bottom of it all and the secret would’ve gone to the grave with you if you hadn’t left the papers lying on his desk and if he had left his ring on the pocket of his jeans like he usually would. But now it was far too late to do anything about it.

#damiano david x reader #damiano david x y/n #damiano david x you #damiano david fanfiction #maneskin x reader #maneskin fanfiction

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meetmymouth · 5 years ago

Text

when sunny met harry : harry styles imagine

based on this request

summary: harry and y/n break up but they’re not the only ones suffering. their -now her- golden retriever sunny thinks harry’s coming back.

“Sunny?” She calls from the bedroom when she doesn’t hear the nails on the wooden floor signalling that he’s following her.

As soon as Y/N gets home from work, Sunny would follow her around like a baby duck for a couple of hours, at least until after dinner, before he decides that Y/N’s here to stay.

Harry and Y/N found the lovable Golden when he was only 2, abused and abandoned near their local Waitrose. When Harry noticed and tried getting close to him, the puppy was all teeth and growls. At the end of year, they had the loveliest, goofiest puppy who loved head massages and belly rubs.

Despite Harry’s hectic schedule, Sunny loved him and Y/N even made fun of him and called Sunny a ‘daddy’s boy’. Harry loved being Sunny’s favourite because he was the fun ‘parent’: he found nothing wrong in sneaking him a few more treats than usual, didn’t raise his voice whenever Sunny decided that the bed was his territory and he let him bite and chew on his arms as much as he liked.

So when they broke up three months ago, it felt like a divorce more than anything so to say. Giving up Sunny and having him stay with Harry wasn’t an option not only for her but also Harry since he was rarely in London and whenever he was, he used to stay over at hers.

So when Harry was moving the last box out of her flat, he gave Sunny one last pat and a kiss on the head before leaving for good. Bless him, Sunny didn’t even know what was going on, he probably thought Harry was coming back either with treats or a movie to cuddle up on the sofa like they always did on Fridays.

“Sunny? Come get it,” Y/N tries again, thinking it will make him come to her if he thinks she’s offering him food but there’s nothing.

When she takes off her watch and earrings, she makes her way into the leaving room but she stops at the sound of Sunny’s wagging tail hitting the floor.

“What are you doing silly?”

Sunny turns his head and gives him a quick glance before turning back.

He’s sat in front of the front door, tail wagging happily as if someone showed him his leash which would mean he would go on his ‘walkies’.

Growing frustrated, she gets closer to the chubby dog and pets his bum.

“What are you doing, huh? You wanna go potty,” she muses more to herself and pouts. “Potty?” Her voice comes out louder than before, hoping that the word he’s fully familiar with would get a reaction out of him. But he stays put.

She does have a theory that might explain his behaviour but she really doesn’t want to go there. She starts walking away, just to test if he follows her but he’s still waiting by the front door.

“Are you kidding me?”

She reaches and knocks on door only once and her feelings are confirmed when Sunny replies with an enthusiastic bark.

Her heart sinks at the realisation that Sunny is, in fact, missing Harry and thinks he’s coming back.

Of course, he’s been showing signs of missing him and looking for him ever since he moved out but they weren’t as heartbreaking as him waiting by the front door. He would wait in front of their -her- bedroom door every morning despite Y/N already leaving the room, as if he was still asleep and would wake up, leave the room and give Sunny his morning pets.

Or when it’s time for bedtime and Sunny sneaks into her room and steals the second pillow from the bed, only to lay his head on it while he snoozed on the floor, next to the bed.

When he did stuff like that, Y/N knew it was because he missed Harry. But when he waited by the front door, it felt like he didn’t even know Harry wasn’t coming back. And that broke her heart.

“Sunny...” she tries guiding him towards the living room by his collar but he keeps barking. “Come on, come get treats.”

He doesn’t budge. In fact, he starts barking more and Y/N backs away, hands rubbing her forehead in hopes of getting rid of her headache.

As he barks away, she leaves him by the front door and perches on the sofa, hand reaching for her phone.

She knows he’s on a break and since they have mutual friends, she knows he’s in London. But she also knows how inappropriate and well, bad it would be to call her ex boyfriend because her dog misses him.

It all sounds so pathetic. And sad.

She sighs happily when Sunny stops barking for a moment but he starts again after a minute, making Y/N groan in frustration.

She calls his name, yells, tells him to stop but Sunny doesn’t budge. It’s like he’s doing it on purpose to piss her off.

With a quick decision, she unlocks her phone and find his contact. She doesn’t even hesitate before pressing the tiny icon and it starts ringing. When it signals that he’s picked up, Y/N feels herself starting to sweat.

“Hello?”

Y/N can’t help but close her eyes at the sound of his voice. It’s been longer than two months since they’ve spoken and only for a moment, she wants to pretend like nothing’s happened and she’s only calling to ask if he wants curry or tacos for tonight.

“Hi,” she almost whispers. “It’s Y/N.”

“I know, I have your number,” he chuckles and Y/N wants to feel jealous over the nonchalant response. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m good. It’s just-“ as she tries to explain what’s going on without sounding like a clingy ex, Sunny’s barks become louder.

“Is that Sunny?” Harry chimes in.

“Yeah, he’s just- he won’t stop barking and he’s been sitting by the front door ever since I got home.”

She gets up and peeks her head into the corridor where Sunny’s still barking.

Harry must’ve heard the increasing sound that he signs on the other end of the line.

“Put me on speaker?” he suggests and Y/N obeys, pressing the speaker button and hopes that Sunny will stop barking if he hears his voice.

“Done,”

For a moment, they don’t speak. Harry doesn’t say anything. Sunny keeps barking.

And then they hear Harry shout Sunny’s name.

Then all of a sudden, the barking stops. Sunny starts looking around, trying to spot Harry and it breaks Y/N’s heart even more. He looks so happy, tail still wagging and tongue out as he comes towards the living room where Y/N’s standing with her phone on hand.

“Sunny boy?” Harry calls again and Sunny finally spots the phone and how Harry’s voice is coming from there.

As Sunny jumps up and down, Harry starts laughing at the sound of Sunny’s nails hitting the floorboard.

“He stopped barking,” Y/N starts but Harry starts talking to Sunny again.

“Sunny! Why are you being so loud, huh? Are you being a bad boy for Y/N?”

She rolls her eyes but at the same time his chest feels tight at the way he says her name.

“Do you think... should I FaceTime him? I mean...” he starts blabbering. “I know it’s not ideal but I miss him too and-“

“You can come and visit him when you’re in London, Harry. It’s us who broke up. Not you and Sunny.”

She knows three months isn’t a long time to get over him. She still misses him. She sometimes freezes in her place when she spots the single toothbrush in the bathroom. She still struggles cooking for one rather than two and she still doesn’t know if she should delete his pictures from her phone or not so she sticks to going through them with a wet smile and a glass of white.

“You sure? I feel like I’d overstep.”

“You wouldn’t. Maybe- maybe not now. Like, not at the moment but you can visit in the future. If you want.”

When she looks down, Sunny’s watching Y/N where he’s now laying on the dog bed in front of the TV unit.

“Alright. Thanks. I think- I’d like that I think. I really do miss him,” he mumbles and Y/N can picture him pinching his bottom lip.

She’s selfish so she wants to ask ‘what about me? Do you miss me too’ but she refrains and clears her throat.

“Okay. Okay- that’s cool. We can arrange that.”

“Has he settled down?”

“Yeah, yeah. He’s just staring at me.”

“Good. Good boy,” he calls out again and Sunny’s ears perk up.

“Silly boy. Anyway, uhm. Thanks, Harry. Sorry for bothering you-“

“Don’t be silly. I know how anxious you get when he keeps barking. This was- this was good.”

She smiles gives another glance at the dog.

“Okay, I’ll let you go now. Thank you.”

“Y/N?” He says, voice all rushed and hurried as if he wants to sneak in a last few words before they hang up.

“Yeah?” She asks, feeling anxious over what’s coming next.

Is he going to tell her not to call again? Or only call for things concerning Sunny?

“Can you- I mean. Can you send me a few pictures of Sunny? I haven’t seen him months and well... yeah.”

At his hesitant request, Y/N feels her chest tighten with sadness and there’s a knot in her stomach, making its way towards her throat and she wants to hang up as soon as possible so that she can start crying.

“Of course,” she promises, head tilted to the side and eyes all glassy with tears threatening to fall.

And later when she’s cuddled up with Sunny on the sofa and spamming Harry with some recent pictures of the silly dog who’s snoozing on her, the tears starts falling down as Harry replies with numerous heart eyes emoji.

* * *

* *

part two

💌 SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS 📝 MASTERLIST

#harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry x reader #my writing #harry blurb #harry writing #harrysgucciloafers

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thorniest-rose · 4 years ago

Text

reddie halloween prompt #5 undead

On the sixth night of the third week after they destroy IT, Richie returns to Eddie.

The Losers all try to stop him. On that first night back at the Town House, Eddie breaks down at the bar, telling them that there had to be a way. That there must be a spell in one of Mike’s books that could reverse what had happened. That they at least had to try.

“He died by mystical means... that means we can bring him back,” he begs, while they all look at him pitifully. Even Stanley, who had understood Richie in a way the others never could, turns his face away.

“Think about what you’re saying, Eddie,” Ben says, eyes dark and wounded as he cradles a glass of whiskey. “People aren’t supposed to come back like that. It could go wrong."

“He’s gone, baby,” Bev agrees softly, placing her hand on Eddie's arm so gently it hardly feels like anything at all. It was nothing like Richie’s rough, boisterous touch. “We all have to accept that and move on.”

But Eddie was unshakeable, inconsolable.

He won't let himself be pulled into Bev's hug, and he refuses to take part in the ritualistic sharing of memories. Reminiscing about bug-eyed glasses and skinned knees; about the plethora of voices, or the way Richie had once held a baseball bat so bravely. The little monster slayer. Instead all Eddie could think about was the body that was currently on ice in Derry's small morgue down the street. The body that had once been Richie's, until the clown tore a hole through his chest. Right now his lips were probably turning blue.

The thought has Eddie staggering from the bar with tears stinging his eyes, ignoring the Losers as they call out to him, so he can lock himself away in Richie’s room. In the dark he peels out of his clothes and folds himself into a clean t-shirt from Richie’s bag. It’s an old tour shirt from 2012 and it’s so big on Eddie it almost swallows him whole.

For a single, overwhelming moment Eddie wishes he really could be swallowed up, that he'd chosen to stay down in the sewers with Richie’s body. That they had disappeared into the earth together.

But instead he was here. And all he could do was ache as Richie's body started to slowly disintegrate down in the morgue.

Eddie doesn’t know how much time passes before Bill comes to him. Bill, who knocks on Eddie's door until he answers, wrapped in Richie's t-shirt and nothing else.

After a second's hesitation Eddie invites him in, and the two men stand by the door, the silence between them growing like a cancer, until Bill reaches out and places his hand on Eddie’s tear-sticky cheek.

“I need to tell you something,” he says, voice on the verge of his old stutter. “I need you to know that I love you. I always did, even when we were kids. And I can’t have you leave without you knowing that.”

And Eddie would be lying if he said he didn’t consider it. That he didn’t consider letting Bill press him down to the mattress and spread his thighs open. That for a moment he didn’t think about how it would feel for Bill to open him up. First with his fingers, and then his cock. To push inside him in the way Eddie had always daydreamed about as a boy with his bed sheets bunched up between his legs. Maybe Bill could help fill the emptiness that Eddie had felt opening up inside him from the moment they left the sewers.

But then he thinks of Richie’s body, how he looked when he died, what he said, and he pulls away. Out of Bill's warm embrace and back to the bed, the sheets still creased with the imprint of Richie’s slumbering body.

Eddie fixes his eyes on the bed and says, "It doesn’t matter, because I don’t love you."

Behind him he can almost feel the way Bill’s face falls. Can almost feel the hurt noise Bill makes in his own throat.

“Okay,” Bill says shakily. "You need time, I understand that. Maybe we should talk about this again tomorrow."

Sorrow makes Eddie's tongue sharp as he looks over his shoulder and says, “I don’t need time. I need Richie. And I sure as hell don’t need you. You're half the man Richie ever was."

The look on Bill's face feels like a knife, but he can't bring himself to care. All he wants is to be left alone and a moment later he is, as Bill slips out the door as quietly as he walked in. Richie would never have done that, Eddie thinks. He would have made a racket. He would never take no for an answer.

Richie had been the only person who'd never treated Eddie like he was made from glass.

Later, in the dead patch of night just after 3am, Eddie pulls on a pair of jeans and leaves the Town House. He leaves behind most of his things: his clothes, his pills, his toiletries. Suddenly, nothing really matters. Not his last Valium, and not the pot of moisturizer that cost more than Myra’s entire make-up cabinet. Definitely not the sad little life that marked his entire childhood in Derry. He doesn’t even leave a note to say goodbye.

Before heading to the airport he breaks into Mike’s room above the library to rifle through all the books the man had collected over the years. Half wrecks the place to find what he needs, the spell that will bring Richie back. When he finds it he makes a noise he doesn’t recognise, something like a sob but also a groan. Half desperate, half wild. He clutches the book so hard he almost rips the page.

A frantic Mike emerges in the doorway just as Eddie turns to leave. His eyes dart down to the book clasped in his arms and they grow shockingly wide.

“Eddie, stop. Think about what you’re doing.”

“You can’t stop me,” Eddie says, pressing the book tighter to his chest, against the stupid t-shirt with Richie’s cartoon face.

“You need to put the book down. You’re not thinking right. You can’t do this, sweetheart, Richie wouldn’t want you to.”

The sound of Richie’s name breaks through the haze. A second later Eddie’s pulling the gun out of his back pocket. The one he had found hidden in Mike’s old things.

He points it at his old friend and says, “Don’t tell me what Richie would want.”

Mike’s hands dart up. “Eddie-”

"Don’t talk,” Eddie snaps. “And if you come near me I’ll kill you. I’m not joking, I’ll do it."

“Please don’t do this,” Mike says. “This isn’t like you. You’re exhausted, and you’re angry. I understand, and all I want to do is help you. But please put the gun down.”

Eddie doesn’t put the gun down but he does cock it, even with his fingers trembling.

“Don’t tell me what to do. All my life people have only ever told me what to do.”

“You’ll regret it,” Mike says quietly. “You think you can just snap your fingers and bring him back? Things like this always require a price.”

But Eddie won’t be swayed. Not now.

“Step away from the door,” he says. "And don’t even think about coming after me. I’m done with this fucking cemetery of a town and I’m done with you.”

As soon as Mike steps aside, Eddie rushes past him, the book to his chest. He makes sure not to look at Mike’s face. At the hurt and disappointment etched there.

In the cold night air outside, Eddie hardly feels the tears on his face.

Eddie leaves Maine for the last time that morning on the first flight to New York.

When he emerges in the airport, Myra comes to him, her face swimming in tears, her chest heaving. She clasps Eddie to her, cooing over him, telling him how worried she was, how she had called the police, that she thought he was dead. And usually Eddie would feel contrite, would try to comfort her, but all he feels is that emptiness inside him grow.

Eddie can’t wait. The next day he completes the ritual when Myra is out food shopping. He spreads the red sand in a wide circle on their plush cream carpet and sprinkles the crushed animal bones in each key place. In the middle of the circle he places Richie’s glasses, still smudged with his blood. Then he recites the incantation from the book, not once stumbling over the strange words.

Myra finds him an hour later, passed out on their bed, a huge crimson stain half scrubbed out of the living room carpet, and demands to know what happened. But Eddie only mumbles that he can’t remember.

That afternoon Myra makes an appointment with one of the top therapists in Manhattan, saying her husband was suffering from a severe bout of melancholy.

There's no sign of Richie that day, or on the next, or the next. Eddie thought Richie would have magically appeared after the ritual. He’d expected lights and noise, like in a magician’s show, and that in a big puff of smoke Richie would be restored. But nothing happened. And maybe, Eddie thinks as cries into his pillow, he doesn't deserve it. He’d only ever been cruel and callous to Richie, maybe he doesn't deserve to get him back at all.

He waits and he dreams. Every night as he lies next to Mya, he dreams about Richie for the first time in years. He dreams of the two of them as children, touching hands and sharing ice-cream; and as teenagers driving around in Richie’s old truck, his legs draped over Richie’s lap as the other boy ghosted his fingers over his calves. And he dreams of a life they never had. Of first kisses, and love confessions, and slow bursts of love making during that sleepy time of morning when the sky turns milky just before dawn.

Every morning he wakes up with wet cheeks. And the emptiness continues to grow.

Over the next few days Eddie gets quieter and more withdrawn. He stops going to work and he doesn’t swallow any of the pills that Myra tries to force on him, spitting them into the toilet as soon as he can get away from her. She’s worried about him, he knows that, but he can’t bring himself to care.

He also doesn't care about all the missed phone calls from the Losers, or the string of texts and voice messages begging him to reconsider, telling him to call. He half types a text to Bev saying, when will it start to feel better? It didnt work anyway, i guess i cant do anything right but it lies half-written on his phone for two days before he deletes it. In the end he blocks their numbers and throws his phone into his bedside drawer.

But then, towards the end of the third week, Eddie wakes up and something feels off.

He can’t describe it, he just feels strange. Tense, the way he always felt before running. And slightly sick. That morning he finds himself watching the news as he chews on his thumbnail. A nervous little tick he hasn’t fallen back into since his late 20s. But there’s no impending catastrophe, no signal of anything ominous. He even scans the local Derry news on his iPad but finds nothing of note beyond a couple of farm cows found brutalised, torn open, their guts hanging out. A local nut job was blamed and arrested.

Just as he’s about to put the iPad down and make his egg-white omelette for breakfast, his eyes catch on a small story: a break-in at the Derry morgue. It’s dated as the same week that the Losers were in Derry, just two days after he disappeared. He realises, with a quiver, that it was the day after the incantation, the ritual to bring Richie back.

Eddie places his iPad down and goes to the bathroom, where he sits in the bath in the way he did as a child, when he was trying to calm the panic attack he felt growing under his skin. He sits there until he feels like his heart isn’t about to burst out of his skin and can go about his day again.

It doesn’t mean anything, he says to himself. Break-ins happen all the time. It doesn’t mean anything at all.

That evening he makes a simple dinner of grilled chicken and asparagus with a white wine sauce. But he can hardly eat. That feeling of unease had stayed with Eddie all day, and as the sky darkened outside it had only grown. Crawling up his throat, seizing his stomach, until he was choking on it.

Across the table he can hear Myra talking, but she’s muffled, like she’s talking underwater.

“A man was killed just a few blocks from us, Eddie, did you hear? It’s awful, apparently he was found ravaged, torn open.”

“Oh,” Eddie murmurs.

Myra frowns. “Are you even listening?”

And Eddie isn’t, but he nods his head.

After he’s pushed his food around his plate for a few more minutes, Eddie tells Myra he needs some fresh air, and before she can argue he slips out into the garden.

He ducks around the veranda outside. When he’s sure he’s completely hidden, he pulls a crumpled pack of cigarettes out his pocket. They’re not his, of course, they’re Richie’s. A pack he’d taken from his room at the Town House when he left that night. He hasn’t been able to smoke one yet, has only lifted one to his lips when Myra wasn’t around so he could pretend to taste Richie’s lips on it. But he suddenly wants to smoke one now, lighting it quickly so he can take a puff. The first one he’s ever taken. He hopes it’ll help him feel closer to Richie. But all it does is make his eyes water instantly and fill his throat with an acrid burn, bending him forwards to retch. It’s disgusting.

Eddie throws the cigarette away and crushes it into the ground with a grimace, wondering how Richie did that every single day. How that could ever be enjoyable.

But Richie had always been an excruciating anomaly, even when they were kids.

As he turns to walk back into the house, planning to go straight to the bathroom and wash the taste of smoke out of his mouth, the back of his neck prickles. Like he’s being watched. Eddie whips around, expecting to see a figure at the end of his yard. Maybe a dark silhouette half-hidden by the trees. But there’s nothing there. Not a flutter of a bird. Not the bright eyes of a cat skulking in the hedge. Nothing. And after a moment, Eddie swipes a hand over the back of his neck and makes his way back into the house.

Inside, Myra asks him what’s wrong, that he looks like he’s seen a ghost. The saying makes Eddie laugh, forcing out a strange, high-pitched noise that has her reeling back in her chair. But Eddie doesn’t stick around to apologise. He walks out of the kitchen and collapses into bed, suddenly exhausted.

He thinks of the text he’d half-written to Bev. When will it start to feel better? And a voice that sounded exactly like Pennywise's rings in his head. Never, Eddie baby! Haven’t you realised that? It never gets better!!

A noise wakes Eddie up that night. He’d only fallen into a shallow sleep, so the noise is enough to make him bolt up in bed, his heart racing. Next to him, Myra snores heavily, almost eclipsing the noise from downstairs, but Eddie’s ears still prick up, seeking out the source of the noise. He hears it again: the tinkle of broken glass, followed by a loud crunch, like someone is walking over it.

Fear makes Eddie recoil back against the headboard. But he can't ignore it. He slips out of bed and into the hallway, peering into the dark downstairs. After a moment, he swallows the sick feeling in his mouth and descends the stairs, feeling much too like a young woman from a gothic horror film.

It’s cold down in the hallway, and he quickly realises it’s because the front door is open. He pauses by the stairway, his body going taut. No, the door wasn’t open. It was broken, hanging flimsily from its hinges, shards of glass and wood on the floor.

But there was more too: smudged, muddy footprints tracking from the front door into the hallway, like someone had broken down the door and dragged their feet inside.

Eddie’s trying to mentally catalogue how far the phone is, how long it’ll take him to dart into the living room and call the police to report a break-in when the back of his neck prickles again. Behind him he hears the heavy exhale of someone breathing.

He spins around fast, heartbeat ratcheting up like a series of gunshots, and that’s when he sees him. Richie. Standing in the doorway to the kitchen watching him.

"Richie," he gasps.

And it was Richie, somehow. Despite the blue tinge to his skin, and the black tracing of veins skittering down his neck and arms. Even though he didn’t have his glasses, and his clothes lay in filthy shreds around his arms and legs, revealing large tantalising glimpses of the thick muscles at his thighs, the tendons popping like lines of rock on his arms. He’d look like a centrefold ripped from a woman's magazine if it wasn’t for the mud streaking down his legs and the scabbed chest wound dissecting his chest, right where the clown had pierced him.

“Eddie,” Richie says thickly, like his throat is clogged with dirt. “I’m here.”

“What...” Eddie stumbles, breath hitching. “What are you doing here?”

And he knows it’s a stupid question, but he doesn’t know what else to say. Because he feels like he’s about to pass out, the pulse at his neck frozen in fear.

“I came back for you,” Richie says. And his eyes are so shockingly blue. Bluer than they had ever been when he was alive. So blue they were almost silver, electrifying the air.

Eddie thinks, All the way here? From Derry?

“But you’re dead,” he murmurs.

But Richie shakes his head. “I’m not. Or at least not anymore. I remember the sewers. The clown. And then nothing. Blackness. Until I was pulled out... by you.”

Eddie feels faint. “By me?”

Richie nods, and starts walking towards him. As he does, the smell hits Eddie. It’s a damp smell, like a puddle of water, or the smell at the bottom of a well. Like mud left behind after a downpour of rain. And beneath that the faint smell of rot, like fruit that had started to turn bad in the basement.

“Yes, by you,” Richie says. “Your voice, it pulled me out of the dark. You were calling to me. I woke up and I knew I had to find you again. That I couldn’t rest until I did.”

The spell, Eddie thinks drunkenly as Richie comes close, it had worked.

“Richie,” he moans, feeling everything well up inside him. Everything he had repressed over the last three weeks. The grief. The rage. The yearning. All surging and crashing over him where he’d forced himself to go numb. It overtakes him completely, and Eddie thinks he might fall to the floor.

He starts to cry as he says, "Richie, I did everything I could. I wanted to save you. But the clown, it was too much. You were already gone and I coudn't- and I wanted to die too, I just wanted to curl up and fucking die-"

Richie shushes him, hand coming up to curl in the hair at the back of his head.

"You did save me, baby, don't you see? I'm only here now because of you."

That’s when Eddie notices the red staining on Richie’s chest. He blinks. And suddenly he remembers the story of the dismembered cows, how their blood had been drained. And the murder Myra had mentioned. The man a few blocks down. He had been found gutted, torn open from his sternum to his groin. How his viscera had been missing.

And Eddie realises it’s not staining at all. It’s a thick layer of gore splattered over his chest hair. His hands are mattered in it too, all the way to his wrists, like he’d sunk his hands into something and pulled out the meat.

“Richie,” he says. “What have you done?”

They’re interrupted by the creak of the bottom stair, and Myra’s voice as she calls out, “Eddie, what’s going on? Eddie, are you all right? I heard voices.”

“Myra,” he says, turning to see her staring in shock at their broken front door.

"Myra, don't-"

But that's when she sees Richie. This strange man standing in her hallway with muddy feet and blood on his chest. With his blue skin and black veins and strange silver eyes.

She starts to scream.

Richie is on her in an instant. He rushes past Eddie, pushing him to the wall as he dashes down the hallway. He knocks Myra down to the floor and as she opens her mouth on a fresh scream, his teeth land at the skin of her neck, tearing it open. He rips her apart, first at her throat, her screams gurgling thick with blood, and then at her chest. His hands come down and he rips her apart like she's nothing more than cellophane. Once she's split open, Richie dips his head down and feasts on her blood and bone. He looks like a starved, feral animal gorging itself on a bounty, and the noises he makes as he rips the meat from the pulsing cavity at her chest isn’t human. Eddie realises, faintly, that he’s eating Myra’s heart, that the blood dripping down his chin is from her arteries, and he trembles.

Mike’s words ring in his head. Things like this always require a price.

Myra dies quickly, her screams stuttering out, eyes going glassy, but Richie doesn’t stop eating for a long time.

Terror roots Eddie to the spot. He can’t run, he can’t scream. He can only lean back against the wall and stare. At the thing that used to be his best friend, the man he loved, eat his wife open from the inside.

The next thing he knows, Richie is rising, and he’s coming towards Eddie, a blue fire raging in his eyes. Eddie tries to scramble away, but Richie’s too fast for him, and the two men tumble to the floor in a tangle of limbs.

Richie presses him to the floor, his mouth at Eddie’s neck, weight crushing him down, and Eddie thinks, This is it. This is always how it was going to end.

But Richie doesn't kill him. He doesn’t tear his throat out or drink his blood. Instead Richie kisses him. Presses the softest, sweetest kiss to the base of his neck.

“I love you, Eddie,” he whispers when he pulls back, eyes bright, mouth clotted with gore. “I love you and I came back for you.”

Eddie blinks up at him, his chest heaving. He thinks dizzily, Richie, it’s really you. And before he can stop himself, his hands are flying up to grab Richie by the shoulders and he's pulling the other man down. Their mouths meet in a fierce clash of lips and teeth, more a bite than a kiss, Richie's tongue stabbing into him. And even though Eddie winces at the thick taste of Myra’s blood, at the hint of decay in his mouth, he still tastes so much like Richie that Eddie throbs.

“I waited for you,” he pants in the short gap between their lips. “I waited so long.”

“I’m here,” Richie says hotly. “I’m here and I’m never leaving you alone again.”

And Eddie had imagined what their first time would be like at countless moments over the last few weeks. If it would be fast or slow. If Richie would be rough with him or gentle. But he never thought it would be anything like this, with Richie tearing his clothes off him and touching every inch of his skin. He never knew Richie would look like this, with this dark, hungry expression, as he thumbs Eddie’s nipples to sore pink peaks and sucks a huge, dark bruise over his heart. He never thought Richie would act so desperately, as his hand disappears between Eddie’s legs to open him up, fingers wet with spit and blood. Eddie never knew it would feel this much like being claimed, like being consumed

When Richie pushes inside him, shoving his filthy jeans down and pulling Eddie’s hips up so he can slot his cock against Eddie’s small opening, it hurts. Eddie’s never had a man inside him before, and it hurts so much. It’s agony. Richie’s hard cock tearing up into him in a searing, insistent push. But Eddie still arches his back off the floor, trying to get every inch of Richie inside him, feeling the white-hot pain sealing up all the numb, dead spots inside him. Richie fucks him like that, like they’re animals, hard into the floor as he growls against him. He ruts against Eddie, pushing his cock as deeply as it can go on every thrust, Eddie’s pained moans never slowing him. He fucks Eddie like he’s trying to disappear inside him, and the thought only makes Eddie harder, makes him cum fast as he whines like a broken toy.

In the distance a phone rings. But Eddie can’t hear it. Because between the taste of Richie in his mouth, and the feel of his cock, he can’t bring himself to care. And as Richie sinks his cold teeth into Eddie’s bottom lip and groans, "You're mine, you’re fucking mine," Eddie finally feels okay. He feels something like peace. For the first time in 27 years he's right where he needs to be.

#halloween reddie #zombies #tw body horror #minors dni #reddie drabbles #reddie #kaspbrough #tw depression #tw suicidal thoughts #this is 4000 words and basically a fic #idk what's wrong with me #this is weird and gory btw #just as a warning

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skimblyshanks · 4 years ago

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Negativity and me rambling about discoursey topics below the cut. feel free to keep scrolling. Actually, I encourage it ilaushdfhasd Have a great day!

I want to talk bluntly here.

I know I probably come off like a jackass nowadays, and I don’t want to, but at the end of the day there’s a group of ppl who are going to continue spreading lies about people based on what they ship, how they read characters, or literally anything that they disagree on, and they don’t listen when you try and explain anything.

so I’m kinda tired and grumpy and I genuinely try not to address it because I know no one who i want to get through to will listen, but also I feel like if I don’t just make a big old post whining about it there will probably be more of those small, whinier posts that I delete after an hour or so. But anyway. People are going to call me and my friemds horrible things, and they’re not going to listen if we try and defend ourselves. Which. Old news. Already found that out last July-August.

Guess what? I was here last year. I missed most of the first drama of the year, that being Kittencourse 1.0, but I was dragged along for the ride every other time. And it was anti-shippers starting those dramas, every time. I probably wouldn’t have lebelled myself as anything if not for the fact that for half a year bullies were throwing around their weight and justifying it by being antis, even when their opponents were doing nothing wrong.

I was here when someone was harassed for months over a fanfiction. this person wasn’t some huge presence in the fandom; the fanfic wasn’t some bastion of the fandom. I don’t think most of us knew either person or fic until antis decided it would be fun to fuck with the account for months on end.

I began identifying as pro ship because at least the pro shippers didn’t seem to be going out of their way to be nasty.

You know the funny thing? For a long while the most problematic thing I shipped was Tugger shanks. Even now, the most problematic thing I ship is Munku pounce, which I will not hesitate to tell you is a comfort ship, as pounce is one of my comfort characters. Any other ship is between kittens and those in the nebulous young adult range, which doesn’t seem to match the Anti Council’s definition of problematic, given many of them had no issue following a blog openly labelling itself as pro ship when the spiciest ship was Pounce/Plato.

And that’s the other thing. I’ve been very open on this blog about being pro ship.

Every time I got a wave of followers who seemed v likely to be anti-shippers, I reblogged posts explaining my stance and hopefully making it clear that I was pro ship. Regardless, I ended up having these followers for months; I didn’t block them bc many of them didn’t make it clear either way what they felt, so I dared to assume they were alright following a pro shipper. Then of course a few months later: a pro ship DNI, maybe some soapboxing, and more than once this has been while they are still following me.

And the fact is, it doesn’t matter what I try to explain.

It doesn’t matter how many posts I reblog trying to explain what it means when I use the term pro ship.

It doesn’t matter if I say that incest ships aren’t really it for me.

It doesn’t matter if I say the kittens are not young children to me.

It wouldn’t matter if I compiled every instance of kitten characters being provocative or taking part in sexually charged numbers.

It doesn’t matter that what we’re talking about here are fictional anthro cats played by adults.

It doesn’t matter because antis have already made up their mind and don’t want to hear otherwise.

It wouldn’t help if I changed labels because the label isn’t the issue, it’s the opposition to antis and their mentality. If I changed labels, they’d simply transfer the baggage they’ve given pro ship onto whatever I had chosen instead.

And I don’t think there’s going to be a middle ground reached because both sides are coming at media differently.

Yes, Pro shippers are alright with people having ships between characters who are related, ships with large age gaps, and, yes, even ships between adult characters and child characters. Because this is fiction we’re talking about. No one real is being harmed by this ship existing. The threat of grooming with these ships exists for all ships, all fandoms, all pieces of media, and all things that can be used to gain a victim’s trust.

Also, you don’t know why anyone ships what they do. You don’t know why anyone has the headcanons they do. I think it’s well-documented by now that there are survivors on all sides of this discourse, so that much should be clear. Telling those who do use these more controversial ships or headcanons to cope that they ought to be doing it in private is not only callous but disingenuine, as antis have, multiple times, gone into private spaces and leaked all content thereof so they could call out those within the group.

As it applies to this fandom, I don’t believe I’ve seen any potentially triggering ship in the main tags. Most of us who do ship controversial ships are aware people don’t like them. We provide tags to block, and of course users can be blocked as well.

Speaking of which.

I know who blocks me back. It shows a specific icon when a block is mutual. I assure you very few antis block me, even when they say they do.

Listen.

The truth is, at the end of the day, this is a blog for a musical about cats. I’ve shifted away from interacting with most users, partly so i don’t end up with more followers who end up antis, and partly so other, neutral users don’t end up catching flack for interacting with me.

And yeah, it is true that the current fandom climate is hilariously hostile to several ships that were popular for decades beforehand. It is true that antis have double standards. That their hypocrisy is easy to point out. That’s true of antis and fandoms in general.

But also. No one outside this fandom gives a shit what any of us are shipping, really. We’re all weirdos to them. The block button is right there; the filtering option is right there, Xkit and its blacklisting tool are right there. Yet there are still these dumb as shit outbursts and fearmongering and soapboxing.

And I’m Tired.

I’m tired moreso by general antidom.

There are multiple compilations of anti shippers being horrible people over ships and fiction, and sometimes even just because they think someone is a pro shipper, even if they aren’t. I’ve had many urges to link them, to share them, but often I think about the trigger warnings it would require and I lose steam; I don’t want to share that stuff with my followers.

And I’m Tired.

I’m tired that the same stupid points of drama are probably going to get resurrected again. At least this time I have most of them blocked.

But, yeah.

I’m Tired.

#fandom discourse--#discourse--#fandom drama--

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cometoceantrenches · 4 years ago

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2021 has come...

So it’s already the New Years here. I’m sorry if this message is kinda late— we had a midnight feast and I drank so I was a little tipsy for a while lmao

ANYWAYS

I’ve been here on tumblr for quite a while, five years (well six now it’s a new year) but only recently started to really interact with people. I came back onto tumblr, having no idea what it would be like. Had the views changed? What do people talk about now?

Despite becoming active in the later months, I've never been so grateful to have met so many amazing people. 2020 sucked, I'm not gonna lie, but you've all made it better! Thank you so much for welcoming me and giving me a chance to interact with you all and become your friend/mutual.

Hopefully, we can look forward to a better new year and hope that things will turn around in 2021. I'm not really good with words, but I want you all to know that I love you all and I'm so thankful to have y'all as my friends 💕💕🥺🥺

I’m not good with words but here’s what i wanna say to each of my moots:

@n-a-r-t Hey rocky! First of all, thank you so much for being my first moot here on tumblr. I think you were my only friend then (wow it sounds so pathetic hbsjnks) but yes. I’m really grateful for meeting you. Also, I’m sorry I’m not answering snapchat- i deleted it cos it was taking up too much space :’))) Hopefully we can still talk <3

@tackygloo Hey Aura/Maddy! Even tho we don’t talk as much, I’ve always looked forward to our conversations with each other. I’m so glad we were able to get to know each other more and discover each others’ interests outside of RDR. Thanks for introducing me to Dreamcatcher by the way, my life as a Kpop stan has been different since. Ily!

@seacottons Since Mei, is my sister I guess that makes you my mom? LMAO- anyways, I’m super grateful to have met you even though it was late into the year. Your words have really encouraged me not to write but to get back to drawing as well. Speaking of which, your talent in both is really astounding. I’m so glad you’re so open in sharing and encouraging others. I really look up to you with that ;^; Keep doing you!

@galaxteez ASH!! I’m not gonna lie, the first time i interacted with you I was kind of intimidated, especially with the layout BSHJks. Even though our first interaction was about thirsting over Jongho thighs, I’m glad to be able to talk to you in comfort, that your blog is a safe space. It really makes me feel at ease because at least I know I have someone I can talk to. I love youooouuuu!!

@little-precious-baby MEI! My sister!!! Thank you so much for helping me get adopted into your family ;^; You have such a big heart- especially when you drop in to check on everyone. You’re so precious to me even though we’ve met late in 2020. I hope we can become closer. I love you wholesome-kitten, I meant, my sister! <3

@artha-amberose HELLOOOOOO! I’m so glad you stumbled upon that one post about me finding mutuals. Even though we’ve just met recently, I’m in love with your ocs. I’m still a little lost and catching up in the lore, BUT YOU HAVE SUCH BIG BRAIN with making all those up- especially with the world building. I’m so glad you were so open with sharing, it made me feel at ease to talk to you. Looking forward to more talks and sharing with you!

@masterninjacow WHIEEEE HUSNA!! Even tho we’ve talked for a bit this past week, I can already tell you have a big heart. I was kind of intimidated by you at first, I’m sorry uhbsinjs ;^;, but I’m so glad that you messaged me first cos I probably wouldn’t have worked up the courage to talk to you sHNJsk I hope you have a good year! I’m looking forward to be able to talk to you more!

@saksukei HEYYYY!! I just realized- i never asked for you name sgubhnijss ;^; Anyways, thank you so much for being open and welcoming. I’m usually very hesitant and shy to approach people online but you’ve helped change that mindset with how welcoming you were. You’re so freaking creative and I LOVE the way you write. Hopefully we can interact more in the future. And please, help me stan Seventeen SKSKSK 😂😂

@aixy-hpsa RYU! I’m so glad you yeeted into my inbox and taunted me with that Jongho gif or else I wouldn’t have been able to torment you back and become friends with you. You’re so cute and kind, I smile whenever we talk to each other. I hope we can talk more in the future! ILY!!

@neo-shitty Hello ate toffee! EHEHEHEH Sana masarap handaan niyo po ngayon. But I just want to say thank you, for messaging me first (at least I think you did LMAO) kasi nahiya ako nung una na kausapin kita. Pero nagpapasalamat ako na na-meet kita dito. Sana mas magkaroon tayo ng mga interaction sa labas ng kpop (kung okay lang sa yo yan ehheheh). Keep writing! ILY ATE!! <3

And to my anons: nonnie, 🍹🦕 anon, and 🔥💫 anon. Even though our first interactions were, I guess dirty hbsnjmks, I hope you know that I’m open to talk about anything. Whether you wanna vent or just talk about the most random stuff, I’m here to listen <3

To everyone else, I hope you know that I appreciate you! My blog is a safe space for you all and I hope we can talk with each other and get to know each other more. Happy new years! Manifesting 2021 will be a good one!

#musings #new year post #im not good with words sbuHNIJSS #BUT I LOVEYOU ALL

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kissjane · 4 years ago

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DELAYED DATE / Short(ish) fic

#12 from this prompt list.

TW / Mental illness, mention of suicide (but no actual attempt)

We dated in high school but then you moved away but now you’re back in town

“Have you guys heard?”

Basile came running towards them, ten minutes late for the gang’s weekly pizza night. As soon as he was near enough, he came to a skidding halt, bent double, his hands on his knees, his face red and ruddy, taking in gulps of oxygen while he tried to tell them his big news.

“Daphné told me, she heard from Imane, who had it from Sofiane, so that must mean it’s true, because obviously Sofiane would not just make something like that up, would he? Anyway, so Daphné heard it this morning when the girls went all shopping together, and she came over to my place to tell me just as I was about to leave, so that’s why I’m late, sorry about that, guys, have you ordered yet? You remembered to leave off the mushrooms on mine, right? Anyway, so what do you think about it, huh?”

He looked around expectantly.

“Baz, my man,” Arthur said, shaking his head fondly but exasperatedly, “why don’t you sit down first, and then tell us this piece of bombshell gossip Daphné thought was more important than pizza with your friends.”

Basile did as suggested, and then looked around again with aplomb, eager to share his news.

“Eliott is back in town!”

Silence fell, as Yann and Arthur glanced over at Lucas.

“Eliott Demaury?”, Yann asked after a long beat.

“Of course, Eliott Demaury, do we know any other Eliotts?”

Basile was so extraordinarily proud of surprising his friends with his announcement that he completely missed how Lucas suddenly had gone pale.

“We should text him, ask him if he wants to hang out again, like before!”

Lucas noticed how Yann elbowed Basile in the arm while Arthur frantically shook his head, and it made him feel bad. If the boys wanted to hang out with Eliott again, they should be able to. But Yann knew, and Arthur could probably guess, that Lucas would very much prefer not to. But whether Basile tried to set something up or not, chances were Lucas would run into Eliott at some point anyway.

“Yeah, sure,” he therefore said. Better to meet him with Yann there for emotional support, than running into him alone and when he was least expecting it. This way, he could prepare.

But not enough, it turned out, when Basile immediately took out his phone, and before anyone realized what was going on, announced gleefully, “That’s arranged! He’s coming over.”

Lucas choked on his own saliva, and a worried look appeared in Yann’s eyes, but the damage was done, and when a familiar figure walked up a few minutes later, Lucas took a big gulp of air and hoped for the best.

“Hi,” a hesitant voice came, and Lucas had to close his eyes against the memories crashing over him.

Eliott calling him late at night, his voice warm with sleep.

Eliott whispering nonsensical words in Lucas’ hair, against Lucas’ skin.

Eliott breathing out Lucas’ name into Lucas’ mouth, his lips taking on the shapes with Eliott’s.

“Hey,” he crooked, willing himself to act normally, to just greet him like an old friend he hadn’t seen in a while.

And why wouldn’t he? Of course, he had had the biggest crush on Eliott for most of the time they’d known each other, and Eliott had definitely given him the impression it had been reciprocated, until he had just disappeared – but nobody needed to know that.

Only Yann knew the full story – he had confronted Lucas one night, a few weeks after Eliott had left. Lucas had barely left his room for days, not speaking, eating only because Manon forced him. When he finally came back to school, he had been silent, withdrawn, and pale, and he snapped at the boys a couple of times for no reason. And then Yann had shown up, demanding answers, and Lucas had broken down and cried his heart out, telling his best friend about his whirlwind romance with Eliott, and the bitter taste it had left when Eliott had just packed up and left, not answering Lucas’ attempts at communication.

He would have sworn, only this morning, that he was definitely over Eliott Demaury, after three years – although maybe his glaring lack of any boyfriends in that time might suggest otherwise. Oh, sure, he’d kissed the occasional guy here and there, but nothing serious. And now, seeing Eliott, watching his grey eyes shine and his hands gesture wildly, he was forced to admit that the reason nothing ever went further was that he was the farthest thing away from being over him.

Basile was already jumping around Eliott like a young puppy, bouncing up and down, asking him how he was, what was going on, whether he was back for good, where he had been, why he had moved without notifying any of them – all in rapid-fire, without giving the older boy a chance to reply.

Finally, Eliott spoke up.

“It’s not the happiest story, but if you guys are up for it, I would like to tell you all.”

He stared straight at Lucas, and Lucas needed to turn his head, afraid of falling for Eliott all over at the slightest opportunity. He steeled himself not to believe any of his beautiful words this time, not to walk into his trap again.

But Yann nodded solemnly, and Eliott gangly sat down, folding his long limbs and hunching his shoulders.

“So, uh, I am bipolar. I don’t know if you guys know, but it’s a mental disorder…”

A silence fell. They all knew what that meant. Lucas had finally told the gang about his mom’s admission into the mental ward in their last year, and Basile had told them about his mom’s mental illness.

“We know,” Arthur said. “That sucks.”

“Uh, okay, yeah, it does. So we didn’t know at the time, but a lot of the stuff I did at my old school was due to episodes. It’s also why I failed my bac and got expelled from my other school and came to your high school. But like I said, nobody knew at the time and so, one day, I went into a manic stage and I tried to jump off a rooftop because I thought I could fly. A police agent managed to talk into me enough to get me down safely, and I got brought into the station. They called my parents, and they thought I had tried to commit suicide – which wasn’t true. I had everything to live for, and I wouldn’t want to give up –”

He looked at Lucas again. So did Yann. Both sets of eyes were trying to gauge what Lucas was thinking, feeling, but Lucas was numb.

“Anyway. They had me admitted into a psych ward near Le Havre, where they had moved to a few months earlier, that same night. I couldn’t keep my phone or anything, I couldn’t contact anybody, I –”

Again, his eyes found Lucas, pleading.

“I wanted to call you so badly, I swear, but they wouldn’t let me, and then when they finally gave me my phone back, it was weeks later, after they had diagnosed me, and I just – I thought you would be better off without me. Or that you would have forgotten me, or had moved on, and so I just… didn’t.”

Lucas saw Eliott’s eyes shine with something different now, as if he was blinking back tears. He wasn’t sure his own eyes looked any better.

It remained silent for a while. The boys looked from one to the other, unsure what was going on.

“So why are you back now, then?”, Yann asked, when nobody else made a move.

“The simple reason is that I finally got accepted into the Arts program at the University of Paris,” he answered, but his eyes still never left Lucas.

Yann nudged him with his elbow, willing him to ask the obvious reason, but Lucas was still too much in shock to do so.

In the end, it was Arthur who finally broke the heavy tension.

“And the complicated reason?”

Eliott took a deep breath.

“I had to leave something behind I never wanted to leave. Or someone, rather. Someone who I hadn’t even known all that long, but who meant everything to me. Someone who I missed every goddamn day I was out there. Who I have written thousands of texts to, and deleted them all, who I wanted to call millions of times, but never did. Someone I made so many drawings for over the years I could barely get them all to Paris with me – I just hope he gives me a chance to show them to him one day.”

“Sound like someone pretty important,” Yann said, when Eliott’s voice broke.

“The most important person I ever met,” Eliott agreed. “I loved him then, and I hate the fact that I never got to tell him, so I just hope I get to tell him now.”

“Do you – still?”, Lucas whispered. “Love him?”

Eliott nodded. “I never stopped. Please, Lucas,” he said, suddenly giving up all the pretense, beseeching him, “I swear I never meant to hurt you, it all happened so fast, and I know I am years too late, and you probably have somebody else by now, I just – I need you to believe me. I fell in love with you the first day I saw you walking the hallway at school, and I never stopped.”

Basile gasped.

“You are in love with Lucas? Our Lucas?”

“Oh, come on, Baz,” Arthur said as he stood up. “Let’s go get pizza. You coming, Yann?”

And as Basile still protested indignantly – “But I didn’t know! Lucas never said anything!” – Arthur and Yann dragged him along, the latter winking over his shoulder at Lucas.

As Basile’s voice finally died down, Lucas lifted his eyes to Eliott’s, and then dropped them to his mouth almost immediately.

“Lucas?”, Eliott said tentatively, gingerly reaching out a hand to Lucas’ shoulder.

“You drew for me?”

He didn’t know why he came up with that, after everything Eliott had said, but he was rewarded when Eliott smiled.

“Hundreds of times. Hundreds of happy hedgehogs and raccoons.”

Lucas smiled.

“Do you… I mean, maybe… If you wanted… You could come with me and I could show them to you?”

Eliott’s tone was hopeful, but cautious, and suddenly Lucas didn’t want to waste another minute. He’d pined over Eliott for years, and here he was. Nobody could predict the future, but tonight, he wasn’t going to let Eliott slip away.

“Only if I can stay the night,” he said, softly, and he laughed as Eliott’s eyes went wide and his breath hitched.

“I can’t wait until we get there to kiss you,” Eliott replied just as softly, when he was sufficiently recovered.

“Please don’t.”

And when their lips found each other again after all those years, they both knew it was going to take a while to get to the drawings – but neither of them overly minded.

#I write things #50 cliché prompts #Elu

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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Stupid For You, Chapter 4 (Crygi, Jankie, Jaida x Nicky) - Metaluna

summary: Jackie has to address her actions from the party, while Gigi has to process feelings she’d rather not. Also, if you aren’t familiar with speaking on radios, 10-4 means affirmative.

Gigi spent the rest of the day in bed. After crying until her eyes were red and puffy, she sat in bed trying to process everything. Crystal had a boyfriend. A boyfriend. When she shut her eyes, all she could see was the blonde boy and Crystal kissing. All Gigi could do was think about their relationship. How did they meet? Who asked who out? Have they slept together? Were they in love? Was it serious? She then pictured them doing gross romantic couple things. The thought of Crystal and that boy going to a pumpkin patch and picking out a pumpkin while sharing hot apple cider made her heart sink. Gigi pictured the two of them at prom, his tux matching her dress, dancing the night away. After breaking her heart with more scenarios, she forced herself to stop thinking so hard about it.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking about the night before. Gigi thought about how beautiful and carefree Crystal looked… She thought about the way her face lit up when she won beer pong. She started thinking about the two of them dancing… The way Crystal’s hips swayed against her… Gigi’s mind wandered to when Crystal changed in front of her.

Never had Gigi Goode seen anyone’s bare chest but her own. She bit her lip as she pictured Crystal topless, while stroking her own breast, while her other hand trailed downward… She knew it was a bad idea, so she forced herself to stop. Gigi sat up in bed, trying desperately to clear her head.

Her next thoughts were about Crystal’s sexuality. Was she straight? With the way that she acted around her, Gigi was almost certain that she wasn’t. There was no way. But what if she was? What if she was reaching, and everything Crystal did was completely reasonable for a friend to do?

Back when Nora lived at home, Gigi watched her older sister get her heartbroken many times. Nora, much like Jaida, got extremely invested extremely quickly. One time when she was fourteen and Nora was eighteen, Gigi watched her big sister cry over some boy on the debate team. It had been the second time that month. Gigi, who had finally had enough told her sister to stop being so stupid for him.

Now she was trying to tell herself to stop being so stupid for Crystal. Four years later, Gigi understood that her words were much easier said than done.

Gigi just hoped to God that she would be able to keep it together the next morning.

“Hello, my love!” Crystal said cheerfully handing an extremely unenthused Gigi a coffee mug.

Gigi forced herself to snap out of it. It’s not like Crystal was shattering her heart into a million pieces and then torching them on purpose.

Crystal looked at Gigi. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m just tired.”

“Gotcha. I feel you. Me and Ryan went hiking yesterday. Hiking isn’t fun hungover. It’s not very much fun to begin with, but especially not when you’re hungover, but I promised him I’d go.”

This was her chance. “I didn’t know you even had a boyfriend.”

“Yeah! We’ve been together since freshman year of high school. I guess I’m just not the type of person to gush about her boyfriend.”

“That’s so… sweet,” Gigi managed through gritted teeth.

“I really love him. This is so lame, but we won homecoming king and queen.”

“Awe, cute.” Gigi could hear her the insincerity dripping from her voice. Thankfully Crystal couldn’t.

“He’s really the best. I think you guys would get along really well.”

Yeah, right.

Gigi hesitated. “Why don’t you ever post pictures with him?” Because of the many nights spent stalking Crystal’s social media, if there was any mention of a boyfriend, she would have known.

“Honestly?” Crystal began. “He doesn’t really like to take pictures. He’s very anti-social media. Ryan is low key a conspiracy theorist. Almost every day he tells me to delete my social media because now North Korea has my information or something.”

“That’s so… interesting.”

What about you, do you have a boyfriend?”

“Nope.”

“Did you just not want one or…”

Gigi trusted Crystal, but didn’t trust her enough to tell her everything about her. Not yet. “I think that I’m afraid to let people in.”

“Really?”

She sighed. “Ever since my dad, I’ve had a hard time trusting anyone. Abandonment issues and shit.”

“I am so sorry.”

“I guess I just look at as what’s the point of dating if they’re just going to leave anyway?”

Crystal held her hand on top of Gigi’s and looked at her with a face full of sincerity. “I’ll never leave you.”

“Thank you,” Gigi managed in just above a whisper.

“You know too much about me. I like you, and really don’t want to have to kill you.”

—

Jackie was one to always be on time. However, she was not one to be an extra half an hour early. But, she knew that Jan was opening, and aimed to avoid the blonde at all costs. Unfortunately for Jackie, when opening her locker, she saw blonde hair and a purple backpack out of the corner of her eye. As much as she hoped she wouldn’t, Jan made her way over.

“Jackie, hi. Do you want to talk about… it?”

“I’d prefer to not if that’s okay,” Jackie said shoving her bag inside of her locker.

“Jackie, don’t shut me out. I know that it probably isn’t like you to do something like that, but it happened. It happened, and you can’t take it back. I know we haven’t known each other for that long, but I really value and respect you as a person. I don’t know why you freaked out, especially because kissed me first. I’ll give you space if you want space, but please. Talk to me when you’re ready.” She walked away without waiting for a response.

For the rest of the day, Jackie couldn’t focus. She was team lead that day, and almost forgot to send Nicky on her break. While in tower, all Jackie could think about was Jan. She had no idea why she couldn’t shake the blonde from her head. Even though she dated boys all through school, she never felt strongly toward any of them. She slept with her boyfriend in junior year, but broke up with him right after, because she felt nothing toward him. There was something different about Jan. Jackie felt things toward Jan that she thought she was supposed to feel to her boyfriends. The keyword being boyfriend. Being gay was out of the question for Jackie. Her entire life, both of her parents that being gay was immoral and disgusting, something Jackie never understood. It was up until she met Jaida her first summer at Paradise Isle before she even met a gay person. As Jackie looked at the monitors from tower, she tried to reassure herself that she definitely wasn’t gay, and that Jan was just pretty. Even if she knew it wasn’t true.

Finally, it was time for her break. Jackie looked around, making sure that Jan wasn’t also on her break. Thankfully, she was in the clear. Jaida was sitting at a table by herself eating a salad.

“Hey, girl,” Jaida said as Jackie sat across from her.

“Jaida. I have a problem.”

“Is that problem a pretty blonde girl named Jan?”

“How did you know?”

“What do you remember about the party?”

“I kissed Jan. Like. I initiated it, apparently. But it was just one kiss right?”

“Ooh, chile. No, you guys were making out. For a while. Everyone saw. You were grabbing her ass and everything.”

Jackie buried her head in her hands. “Oh, no.”

“Have you seen her today?“

“Yeah, this morning. She tried to talk to me, but I wouldn’t listen. She agreed to give me space… I can’t hold this off forever, Jaida.”

“No. You can’t. You know what y’all need?” Jaida questioned.

“What?”

“You know what.”

“I’m not taking Jan onto the Ferris wheel.”

Because Paradise Isle was mostly ran by people who were all around the same age, there were plenty of relationships, flings, and conflicts. When any problems arose, it was customary to go into the Ferris wheel to resolve any issues. The parties in question would ride until they either they resolved their issues, stormed off angrily, or ran away crying. It wasn’t something management allowed, but the supervisors knew how much conflict it resolved, so they let it slide. Jackie had never had to take any rides in the Ferris wheel. Jaida, however, took at least one a summer. Her second summer she took three.

“If you don’t take her, I’m going to shove your skinny Persian ass into that ride. I’ll drag Jan by the hair if I have to. You are going to talk this out. Okay?”

Jackie grumbled. “I guess.”

“Tell Jan to meet you at the Ferris wheel. The Genie closes early tonight for maintenance, right?”

Jackie nodded. Once a month, The Genie closed a half an hour early for maintenance, which made it the perfect night.

“Okay, perfect. Jan’s stocking tonight, so it’ll be easy for her to slip away.”

Jackie’s heart beat fast as she tried to come up with what to text Jan. She reread it twice and made Jaida read it, too before she sent it.

Hey. I’m really sorry. Can we talk? I’ll be at the Ferris wheel at close.

Jan responded almost immediately.

ill see you then

“How did she respond so fast?” Jackie questioned.

“Stockers do whatever they want. Anyway. My break’s over. Let me know how it goes.”

“Will do.”

—

Gigi couldn’t stop thinking about Crystal. It didn’t help that she was in the slowest store, at the slowest time of the night, all by herself. Nobody wanted to buy overpriced, blurry photos of themselves on rides. She debated calling Jan because she was bored, but decided against it, since Jan was going to be by soon to close the store.

“Hey, gorg,” Jan said as she made her way inside.

“Hey.”

“What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“’Hey.’” Jan mocked Gigi’s depressed tone as she started shutting down photo monitors.

“Promise you won’t tell?” Gigi felt like she was in middle school saying that sentence.

“Pinky promise.”

Gigi linked pinkies with Jan while emptying the register. “So me and Crystal got super close super quickly, I’m sure you saw.”

“Yeah, of course. She’s a sweetheart.”

“Yeah she is. Anyway. I started feeling…. Feelings toward her. Do you follow?” Jan nodded. “And honestly, I thought she felt the same way… She spent the night at my house after the party and literally cuddled with me.”

“Oh wow, really?”

“Yeah. So here I was, thinking that she felt the same way. Turns out I was completely wrong. Get this, she gets picked up from my house by her boyfriend.”

“Oof.”

“Oof, indeed.”

“Well,” Jan said. “Have you thought about telling her?”

“Absolutely not.” Gigi finished putting the rest of the money in the locked bag. The two girls headed out of the store.

“Why not?”

“What good is it going to do?”

Jan slammed the gate in front of the store shut as they left.

“Would it give you any sort of peace of mind?”

“I mean, maybe. But what if it ruins everything? It’s not like she’s gonna break up with him on the spot to date me. Why would–”

They were interrupted on their way to the money room by an older woman.

“I’m supposed to meet my family at The Landing. How do I get there?”

Jan smiled kindly. “Ma’am you’re on The Landing right now.”

“I am? Where’s my family?”

“Can’t help you with that ma’am, hope you find them!” Jan walked away before the woman could continue.

Gigi rolled her eyes at the woman. “Why would I risk the friendship? I’d rather have her in my life as my friend than not at all.”

They reached the money room, where they were greeted by Nina. After handing her the locked money bag, they made their way to Isle Mercantile’s stockroom to help close.

“At the end of the day, it’s up to you. I can’t tell you what to do. It’s not an easy situation, and it doesn’t have a clear answer. I’m sorry Gigi.” Jan hugged Gigi.

“Thanks, Jan.”

Jan. “Oh shit. I’m late.”

“Late for what?”

“Jackie wants to talk about… things.”

“Good luck.”

—

The rest of Jackie’s workday went by disgustingly slow. At least she spent the rest of her shift at Load 1, which meant that she ran back and forth checking lapbars, and then engaging her console. It kept her busy and kept her mind off of Jan, at least for a while.

Once her shift ended, Jackie changed into the clothes that she had in her bag, old jean shorts, and a t-shirt with her university’s logo, desperately wishing that she kept cuter spare clothes. Close to closing, all attractions on The Boardwalk had a short wait. When she got there, a slightly unusual girl named Yvie was operating the ride. Jackie didn’t know Yvie well, but remembered that the year prior, Yvie had to ride the wheel with a girl named Scarlet.

It was five minutes after close. All Jackie could do was think about what a big mistake she made until she saw Jan running full force down The Boardwalk. “I’m so sorry! I was mending a broken heart.”

“Good luck,” Yvie said as they went up.

Jackie and Jan didn’t say anything at first.

Finally, Jan broke the silence. “Do you regret it?”

“What?”

“Do you regret kissing me?”

Jackie sat, methodically constructing her answer. “No. No, I don’t.”

“Well why did you freak out then? I hope you know that you really fucking hurt me, Jackie.”

This made Jackie’s heart break. Knowing that she caused such a kind soul hurt killed her. “Jan, I am so, so sorry. That is the last thing I wanted to do. I just need you to know one thing.”

“What?”

“It had absolutely nothing to do with you… Honestly my entire life my parents told me being gay was bad, and I didn’t think I believed them, but maybe part of my subconscious did. Not that at all is an excuse for my behavior. The thought of liking a girl the way I was told I was supposed to like boys freaked me the fuck out.”

They reached the platform.

“Again?” Yvie asked.

Jackie nodded.

“Gotcha.”

“I never even considered the fact that I could be gay. And then I met you, and you’re so confident in who you are.”

“Confident in who I am? Jackie, I’ve never labelled my sexuality. I dated a couple boys in my time, but also hooked up with a girl on my soccer team. I just know that if I like someone, I like them. I don’t really think anything beyond that matters, not that I haven’t had late nights where I couldn’t stop thinking about how confused I was.”

Jackie was surprised. Jan seemed so sure of herself, so it was unusual to imagine her being unsure about anything. “Really? You seem so confident about literally everything.”

“Do you wanna know a secret? Most of it’s fake. My mom used to always tell me ‘fake it til you make it,’ and I guess it stuck.”

They reached the bottom again. Yvie looked at them and Jackie nodded.

“10-4.”

They started rising again.

Jackie exhaled. Her heart was pounding. It was now or never. “I’ve dated boys all throughout school. I slept with one of them. And honestly, Jan? I felt more when I kissed you the other night than I ever did when I was with any of them, and I was drunk… Jan, I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the party. I think about how you light up every room you go into. I think about how pretty you are when you smile. I keep thinking about kissing you again.”

“Wow.”

“And I’m sorry if that’s strong, but I just need to tell let that off my chest and I understand if–”

Jan didn’t let Jackie finish. Instead, she grabbed her shirt and kissed her. If Jackie thought kissing Jan drunk was nice, kissing her sober was incredible. Their lips moved in perfect synchronization. Jackie was used to boys who led with the tongue. Instead, Jan’s kisses were gentle, yet powerful. Jackie unconsciously moved her hand through Jan’s soft hair. Eventually, Jan broke the kiss.

“Is that okay that I did that?”

Instead of answering, Jackie pulled her into another kiss. At this point, they reached the top.

“I really like you, Jan. I don’t really know how to process that information, but I know that I like kissing you.”

“I like kissing you, too. We can take it as slowly as you want. I want to see where this goes. I think we have something good here.”

“I think so, too.”

Jan rested her head on Jackie’s shoulder the rest of the way down.

Yvie looked in at them. “You guys good?”

Jan smiled. “Never better.”

#rpdr fanfiction #gigi goode #crystal methyd #jan sport #jackie cox #jaida essence hall #nicky doll #crygi #jankie #jaida x nicky #lesbian au #stupid for you #metaluna #s12 #submission

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narrysgolden · 4 years ago

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So uh, hi, I’m not a writer but I do occasionally (used to) write and some lovely lovely person brought that to my attention today! They mentioned a totally different fic I was writing and forgot about (oops) but reminded me I wrote Part 3 of this ficlet ages ago and never posted it SO here’s that now. Happy Holidays to you all ☺️

Private Nights - Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

They were both much more quiet now than they had been the whole flight. Thoughts, and a hangover, swimming around in their heads. Niall was debating in his head whether he was hoping to not have to see Harry again this weekend, or was hoping to run into him again. He was leaning more towards the latter.

With an ounce of liquid courage left, he decided to ask anyways, just out of curiosity. “Hey where are you staying tonight?”

Harry’s face went blank. He closed his eyes, lowered his head into his hands and whispered shit.

“I think….I don’t think I actually have a place to stay.” He said with a chuckle, an attempt to not scream. In years past Harry would just stay at his house, but since he sold his LA home he had been staying with Jeff. Now that Jeff and his wife are out of the country, Harry not thinking to bring his spare key, that’s not an option either. Surely he could call up another friend, pop into a hotel or something. “Forgot I don’t live here anymore and usually I’d just go to Jeff’s but, “second honeymoon.” He shrugged.

Without thinking Niall blurted out “you can stay at mine” before realizing what he said. “I mean got a spare room and all, not too far from tomorrow’s venue.”

“Oh I don’t want to be a bother, can just call up a friend, get a hotel for a change or summat.”

A friend? Did he not consider me a friend? Niall thought. That kind of hurt but he tried not to take it personally. Would probably be awkward to have Harry sleepover anyways. “Uh yeah sure, sure. I’ll be there if you uh, need anything or whatever.” Now Niall was being awkward, tripping over his words and trying to play it cool.

“’course, thanks Niall.” Harry pat him on the shoulder with a soft smile as he peeled himself off the leather seat.

The boys parted ways after the flight, engaging in a much less awkward hug than the first one, and hopping into separate cars. As Niall went back to his LA home, Harry was feeling out of sorts. Even with his countless contacts in the area, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do and had the driver drop him off at the Beachwood Café. Out of all the places in LA, this it felt most like a home away from home. He frequented the dainty café every time he was in town, knew the workers by name and they were always considerate of his privacy.

After greeting the employees behind the counter and ordering his usual, he sat himself in the back corner booth, shoving his Gucci bag underneath the table and pulling out his book. He had brought Norwegian Wood with him, grabbing it last minute from his shelf as a way to keep himself busy on the long flight. Even though he’d already read the book, twice, it was his favorite and impossible to put down. In an attempt to clear his mind, he began reading, for the third time, sipping on his coffee in an attempt to beat the already setting in jetlag.

When he woke up the room was half lit with soft sounds of mugs clattering together. He jolted his head up with a gasp, forgetting where he was and searching his surroundings. Harry had gotten so engrossed in his book he completely lost track of time….and consciousness. Jetlag hit hard and despite his second cup of coffee, he dozed off through chapter nine and slumped back in the booth. A slight bit of panic set in as he frantically looked at his phone, not knowing what time or even day it was at this point.

9:45pm

The café closed in 15 minutes. Harry quickly shuffled out of the booth, grabbing his stuff and swiftly placing his dirty dishes on the counter. “So sorry for hogging up the booth all day, keeping you here” he quietly apologized to the employee, voice coming out hoarse from sleep.

As he darted out the door he really started to realize he has nowhere to stay tonight. It was nearly 10pm on a Sunday and he’d feel bad for bothering anyone for a place to crash at this hour. He quickly remembered Niall’s offer earlier, along with how much of a dick he probably sounded for so quickly turning it down. In his sleepy haze he decided to just fuck it and call Niall up anyways.

Three calls later. No answer. Harry would really start to feel like a needy boyfriend if he called again. And fuck all if he remembers how to get to Niall’s house, let alone his address. Unless…

Harry unlocks his phone, scrolls through his contacts, and clicks on Niall’s name. And sure enough, right under the address bar is Niall’s street, number and all. Even after all these years, Harry couldn’t bare to delete Niall’s number or any of his information, and he’s thanking God now that he didn’t.

While in the Uber on the way to Niall’s he starts to become really anxious. This isn’t creepy right, just showing up at his house? I mean it’s Niall and he offered anyways. Right?

The car pulls up to the soft gray home, light coming through a couple windows with Niall’s car parked in the driveway. Thankfully Niall’s gate code was still programmed into his phone as well, so he could at least get past the fence without looking like an awkward stalker who shouldn’t be at this residence in the first place.

With all signs that Niall is home and another few phone calls going unanswered, Harry assumes Niall must have fallen asleep early too. He makes his way up to the front door and knocks, then rings the doorbell, then the buzzer and repeats the three for what feels like 30 minutes before giving up. He doesn’t want to yell or cause a disturbance in his neighborhood at now 11pm. So he sits down on the stoop, back up against the door, jetlag already taking over again.

Niall jolts awake with a weird feeling. All the lights are on, his damn shoes are still on and he’s very disoriented at this point, not intending on passing out so early in the day. He goes to check his phone, 11:30pm, and notices the 6 missed called from Harry. Immediate panic shoots through his body. Is something wrong? Did he need me? Oh god I wonder where he is. Am I overreacting?

Despite his hesitation, he decides to just call Harry back. No answer. So he calls again. After the fourth ring with no answer is when Niall really starts to panic. Without thinking he jumps up, grabs his keys from the counter and heads for the door. He flings the front door open so fast he barely has time to process the body thumping at his feet.

Harry is shocked out of his slumber as he flies back and his head smacks down on Niall’s feet.

“Jesus, fuck! Harry what the fuck!?”

Harry rolls over with a loud groan of pain and confusion. “Oh my god” he grunts.

“Harry WHAT the hell” Niall yells.

As Harry continues to writhe around on the stoop, Niall’s demeanor changed. “Har-Harry are you okay? C’mere”. He reached down to gently place his hand under Harry’s head and help him sit up, worried that he smacked his head too hard. Harry finally squints his eyes open to look up at Niall. He doesn’t know if it’s the jet lag delirium or the fact that he banged his head half on Niall’s foot and half on concrete, but he smiles up at the Irishman with a dopey grin and dimple on full display. “Hi.”

Niall is confused but can’t help smiling back. After a moment of innocent affection, Niall’s concern creeps back in. “Are you okay? Really? Need some ice?” Harry’s smile turns into a frown as he remembers his throbbing head and nods, taking Niall’s hands to help him up. In full disclosure, Harry is a total baby when it comes to being sick or hurt. He will take all the love and care that anyone is willing to give him and he will milk that shit like it’s his job. Niall knows, Niall kind of loves it, and Niall acts just like the caretaker Harry wants. “C’mon baker boy” he chuckles, wrapping his arm around Harry’s waist to lead him inside.

The name gets Harry to chuckle, lightening the mood. “Baker boy? Really? It’s been nearly 10 years Niall.”

“And yet you still talk about bread, Harold.”

For those few moments it’s like Niall and Harry we’re back in 2015. It felt different than the plane ride earlier which was fueled by alcohol. This time, the comfort was fueled by vulnerability. Something they shared closely between each other, years ago.

Harry laid down on the couch, sinking into the big plushie cushions and trying really hard to block out the memory of what happened on this couch the night Niall moved in. The heated kissing, the touching, the clothes thrown about the kitchen. It was also the one and only time that Harry had stepped foot in this house, other than at this moment. Niall brought over a bag of ice, handing it to Harry along with a pillow to prop his head up. As his mind began to clear up, he decided to take a seat at the other end of the couch. He could feel emotions resurfacing that he wasn’t ready for and did not think was appropriate for the time.

Harry thanked Niall and laid back on the ice, wiggling uncomfortably as the cubes poked the back of his head, but he was grateful for the gesture. Neither of them said another word, sleep taking over both of them yet again after Niall had put the golf channel on the tv for some background noise. As Niall dozed off, he could hear Harry’s labored breathing. Through hooded eyes he took in the sight of Harry’s chocolate curls sticking to the melting ice bag. His lips slightly parted, looking plush but dry, in need of some chapstick. The way his skin was so clear and glowed under the light of the tv. He was just....so....pretty. And with that thought, Niall fell into a deep sleep as well.

Niall awoke to a heavy weight on his stomach and a tickle of hair on his arms. He squinted one eye open in the dim lighting of the room and moved just enough to get Harry’s attention. The lanky boy on top of him groaned a small “mm cold” before readjusting his head to now be on Niall’s crotch and curl his legs up next to him.

“D’you wanna go up to bed?” Niall mumbled. Harry nodded, continuing his “baby” act.

The two of them groaned as they got up, sore from the awkward couch positions and groggy from on and off sleep all day. Harry slung his bag over his shoulder as they trudged up the stairs, coming to the guest bedroom on the right. Niall stopped ahead of Harry. “Sheets are clean, bathrooms on the le—“

“Can I...” Harry began to interrupt. “My uh, my head still hurts.” It didn’t. But Harry didn’t have another excuse to sleep with Niall and he knew Niall wouldn’t deny him the comfort he really needed right now.

“Uh yeah, sure, my rooms down thi—“

“Mhmm I remember” Harry interrupted again with a smug tone. Niall just rolled his eyes and continued on down the echoey hall. With each step Niall began to strip off another article of clothing, desperate to be comfortable in his own bed again and not caring that Harry was right behind him,

“Eager are we?” Harry remarked, watching closely each piece of fabric fall to the floor.

“Oh shut up.” Niall jabbed back, sprinting the last few steps and catapulting himself onto the bed. His head fell back, getting engulfed in the mountain of pillows stacked at the headboard.

“Jesus, Niall. Preparing for a pillow fight or something?”

Niall let out a cackle, pick up the pillow closest to him and chucked it in Harry’s direction. ”Maybe.”

Harry caught the pillow with impressive accuracy and threw it straight back, jumping on the end of the bed and launching Niall’s legs in the air. The two boys burst into a fit of laughter, lazily tossing pillows at each other in the process.

The laughter died down and their eyes began to droop again, but neither of them wanted to sleep another minute.

#narry fic #Niall horan #harry styles #private nights fic #private nights #part 3 #narry #fanfic

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knightofameris · 4 years ago

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—𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬—

◦ 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 ◦ 𝑠𝑜𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙 𝑚𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝𝑠! ◦ 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑠! ◦ 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑚𝑒! ◦ 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘𝑠!! (𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑜𝑜𝑡𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠!)

𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑠' 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒: blacklist “ameris 500 celebration!” if you don’t want to see any of my posts about this celebration! also if this flops i will cry. jk i won’t but it’ll definitely take a hit on my heart u__u (and if it does flop, you didn’t see this post)

—𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍—

Ahhhh! I’m so amazed that I got to 500 followers despite the fact that I barely?? Post?? And sometimes I just talk about random shit but even then, I still appreciate all of you guys so much? I have a few options on what I have to celebrate and I am so excited heheh. But before I get started I just,,, Have a few more things I’d like to talk about (cus I like to talk LOL). Feel free to skip though!!

content continued below the cut!! (warning; introduction is long because I just have a lot of thoughts I want to share LOL. seriously, feel free to just skip)

I know that I only really started posting Haikyuu!! around my 300 mark, and I feel like the people after my 300 mark are the one’s who are active because of how much I come onto tumblr and then disappear.

If you don’t know this, I’ve actually been writing on Tumblr since 2015/2016. I’ve just changed blogs so many times that it’s like, hey, this is my new blog. Or like, I would write for a few months, disappear, come back but then everyone who followed me was dead so I was like eh I’ll just start again or whatever. And I think this makes me very very soft because out of all the communities I’ve been in, I’ve truly felt more welcome/at home even?? With everyone in Haikyuu? Like yeah there’s shit that goes down every few days or whatever but it’s always so fun to see people interact with each other and though I was hesitant at first (because before this the only writer I’ve ever interacted with was Scout for marvel oop) I’m really glad I reached out to a few of y’all and vice versa.

But despite that, Marvel will always hold a place in my heart and to everyone who followed me from my Marvel days, thank you for supporting me way back when. And even to my Narnia days (AHAHAHA). I don’t think I would’ve continued writing on tumblr without your guys’ support. I know that younger me appreciated you all for reading those old works (even if I hate my old writing now).

And to everyone now, thank you for sending in asks or commenting on my works. I actually think I would’ve disappeared by this time from this blog if you guys didn’t interact. I’m not saying I’m writing for the follows or the notes, if that makes sense. But it’s more like, I feel less of a robot that people expect to churn out works. Idk, it makes me feel like a person? And it just gives me a lot more serotnin than you might think!!

One last thing though, it’s not me saying I expect you guys to always read my work and always comment. It’s more so, I’d actually rather have you guys comment or whatever because you want to and you want to read it. Like on one hand yes it does make me feel appreciated but I also don’t want you to feel obligated or feel guilty of you don’t read my things. No matter what, I will always be writing. It definitely does feel nice tho LOL

I promise in the future, if I ever do intros they won’t be this long lol.

Phew. Anyway.

For this celebration, this is only for Haikyuu!!

—𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐒—

I love love love self ships SO much. So I want to hear about your guys’ self ships!

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬

this will only be open from 12am september 23 — 11:59pm september 25 PST

any requests received before or after will be deleted (may be extended depending on how many requests I get!)

do keep in mind that i’m starting classes soon so it will take me some time to get through this.

send it in through asks or submissions!

send in as many asks as you’d like

if you use an emoji to show who you are, include it on all asks :3c

nothing nsfw for this, thanks!

since this is a follower celebration,,, i do have to ask that you be following me! honestly, i won’t check if you are, thats too much work on my part but it would mean a lot if you’re following me to participate in this celebration! );

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐨 [example]

i will be creating two instagram posts with one of them having a comment section (3-4 screenshots)

i might also include a screenshot of your profile and/or your s/o if I can put in more pictures!

chats with your s/o ( heheh (; ) (1-2 screenshots)

chats with your s/o’s team! (1-2 screenshots) (this will possibly be with the entire team or just a select few)

take a look at the example as that’s what i’ve done for a friend of mine!!

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐨

send in 1-2 headcanons about you and your s/o

send in a little bit about your personality!!

your pronouns! and a name you’d like to go by!

give me your instagram handle! (not your real one, but what it would be within haikyuu) otherwise, i’ll make a random one based off your name!

what are your ~aesthetics~

what phone nickname would u have for your s/o (or any other people on the team) so it can be more personalized! or if ur like me where everyone is just their name besides a select few

do u have particular texting habits?

what’s your favorite animal? this is what I will be putting as your profile picture! alternatively if you submit all of this through my submissions and give me a piccrew, I will use that!

you could give me the most BASIC description, you don’t need to do all of these points, and i’d be fine with that. It’s up to you how much you want this to be personalized <3

(also this one’s not necessary, it’ll just be more ~fun~ but lmk if u wanna be a manager of the team! or if u have ur own little AU so u might have other certain details u want to throw in. otherwise i’m gonna make it a sorta free for all lol)

𝑒𝑥𝑎𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒: hi! my name’s ameris and i ship myself with suga! my pronouns are she/her/hers and i like to think that suga and i have a sort of childhood friends to lovers trope. i also like to think that we go stargazing at least once a month no matter what! my aesthetic is definitely space heh. i’m a little bit like suga where i’m chaos and baby! i curse a lot and i have way too many interests to count but i always like trying new things! my instagram handle would be ameris_stars (dude idk lMAO) and suga’s name in my phone would be Koushi <3 i make a lot of typos and i like using a mix of emojis and emoticons/occasional kaomojis. my favorite animal is a fox or dog!

this,,, is a lot but i’m okay with that! heheh

to protect you, I won’t publish your ask! I will make separate posts titled w/ your name + s/o + emoji (if you use your emoji). If you do it off anon, I will tag you!

Request List!! If you don’t see your name on here, just submit it again :3c I will not be tagging for the sake of not spamming you guys lol.

—𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐔—

I would love love love to get to know you! So tell me about yourself!

what’s your favorite color?

who’re your favorite haikyuu characters?

favorite haikyuu teams?

you got any writers you want to give a shout out to?

maybe a little self promo too?

adsfasdfasdflj i will keep bringing this up but like any,,, spice asks,,, about the haikyuu characters cus like,,, lol

horn knee asks will be tagged with: “ameris needs a drink” which honestly sounds like i need an alcoholic drink and at this point, yeah

please be 18+ if you do send in any spicey asks!!

This can go on for as long as y’all want really, ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I’ll just answer these like normal and spread them out too lol

—𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐄—

I have a few ask games I’ve reblogged before, so I have a few linked for you LOL

intrusive asks 👁👄👁

~space~ asks! (this has a lot more!)

zodiac asks (just about my writing!)

writer’s asks

a little game I got from my friend which I think is absolutely so much fun

this is a version of fuck-marry-kill, but send in THREE characters (this one can be from any mix of my interests!) and I’ll choose which one I’d rather have a fanfic trope with:

“enemies-to-lovers”

“childhood friends-to-lovers”

and “fake dating”

would definitely prefer haikyuu characters

but doing a mix and match from all my interests is a lotta fun

things i used to or am currently into: haikyuu, marvel, bnha, demon slayer, rwby, sailor moon, voltron, dc, overwatch, tales of vesperia, legend of zelda, bungo stray dogs, narnia (lmao), one piece, uhm, i’ll add more if i can think of more, tbh u can even just say random characters and i’ll just google them

As always though, feel free to ask me any other questions!!

this will also go on for as long as whenever, i’ll probably spread out this one!

—𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒—

AH. It was lookin a little long so here’s the link to the post :3c (will edit post later!!! when I come back from my exam!!!)

to those who got to the end, omg i’m sorry. i talk so much. but thank you for your support and just getting through this block of words hakdfhkasf

#seriously #this is long #ameris 500 celebration!

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snazzy-suit · 5 years ago

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Fool Me Once, Fool Me Thrice Chapter 7.4 Deleted Scenes

Oh hey it’s a thing! Some of y’all showed interest in seeing the deleted stuff I mentioned, so I’m posting ‘em as promised. If you haven’t read part 4, I highly recommend you do that first.

These were all cut pretty early, so they didn’t get any revision. In other words: they be rough af. Enjoy!

===

“Plunger Scene”

I hadn’t originally planned for King Boo to land a successful hit on Luigi. In fact, it had been the other way around. As I said in the notes of part 4, I was going to have Luigi throw King Boo with the Plunger Shot, but ultimately got rid of it because it just didn’t feel right (and I didn’t think Hellen would sit quietly by and watch her idol get smacked around).

For kicks, I also included the alternative way King Boo reveals the fate of Luigi’s family and friends.

“Did... did you just stick a plunger to my face?”

Luigi shrinks in on himself, shoulders rising until they are level with his ears.

“It was an accident?” he offers uncertainly.

King Boo’s eyes narrow into a glare. Despite the plunger on their face, the king still somehow manages to look menacing.

“This won’t be,” he hisses.

King Boo lunges at the plumber, foregoing the portrait entirely. Luigi reflexively activates the Poltergust’s intake, but instead of catching the monarch in its gale, it latches on to something else—the knotted end of the plunger’s rope. Luigi reels back with a start, and is surprised when the plunger holds firm. The sharp tug startles King Boo enough that the spirit aborts their attack, instinctively resisting the opposing force. Suddenly, Luigi and King Boo find themselves in an incredibly bizarre game of tug-o-war. The plumber begins to feel his shoes lose their purchase, and as he slowly skids across the floor, Luigi realizes he could (and probably should) shut off the intake and let the rope go.

He doesn’t.

What happens next, Luigi can’t even begin to explain what possessed him to do it. He briefly allows himself to stumble forward, tricking the monarch into thinking he had lost their little impromptu game. King Boo eases on their pull, and the second Luigi feels the lost tension in the rope, he acts. Luigi firmly plants his feet in a wide stance and jerks the rope upward with all his might. The ghostly monarch soars into the air with a startled squawk. Luigi swiftly spins on his heel, yanking a flailing King Boo above him in a wide arch—the latter skimming the bottom of the chandelier as they reach the zenith of their trajectory. With an involuntary battle cry, Luigi slams King Boo onto the ground as hard as he can. A loud crack splits the air—the sound accompanied by shattering dishware and ornaments falling from the nearby buffet tables. Luigi, still adjusting to the new Poltergust, accidentally releases the plunger, sending King Boo crashing into the hotel entrance and knocking himself onto his backside.

The plumber blinks slowly from his sprawled position. He looks from the dazed king to the caved-in floor spider-webbed with cracks. Luigi spies the dislodged plunger lying in the mess that spilled from the shaken tables. He isn't sure what amazes him most, that such an innocuous thing could assist in causing so much damage, or that he was able to throw King Boo like that all on his own. He’ll have to tell his brother about it later—Mario would have loved to see that.

Luigi grins. He has to admit, it was very cathartic.

The elation from his successful maneuver is short lived. King Boo quickly shakes off their daze and rises from the floor with a furious snarl, spurring Luigi into scrambling to his feet. The monarch’s eyes burn with unkempt rage, but there’s surprise there too, and something else... Fear? It’s gone so fast that Luigi thinks he may have imagined it.

“How?” King Boo snarls. “How do you have a Poltergust with you?!”

King Boo’s fervid ire has the plumber trembling again, but it’s not quite as bad as before. Luigi squeezes the Poltergust’s wand, intake nozzle at the ready.

“The professor never leaves home without it,” Luigi replies, “And I’m not leaving here without him.”

The spectral monarch’s anger evaporates into shock. They open their mouth as if to speak—perhaps to ask how Luigi knew E. Gadd was here in the first place—but the question dies on their tongue as a look of epiphany abruptly crosses their face. King Boo’s features relax, melting into something cavalier. What little satisfaction Luigi got from catching the king off-guard gives way to unease.

“Oh?” King Boo asks casually. “Just the professor?” He grins. “Does that mean I can keep the others?”

Luigi suddenly recalls the other vehicles he had seen in the parking garage with utmost clarity. Dread weighs heavily in his gut.

“Others?” he dares to ask.

King Boo gestures at a point behind Luigi. The plumber turns to look. Some distant part of him would later realize how stupid it had been to take his eyes off the monarch, and just how lucky he was that King Boo hadn’t taken advantage of his carelessness. Currently, Luigi feels the furthest thing from lucky. Horror fills him to the brim. This time, Luigi does drop the Poltergust’s nozzle.

There, floating in a neat arc above Hellen Gravely, are portraits containing Luigi’s friends and family.

===

“Olive Branch Scene”

There was a brief moment where I considered having Luigi attempt to make peace with King Boo, but I decided it was too soon for the string bean to extend an olive branch (we all know King Boo wouldn’t have accepted it, anyway). Plus, I already have another installment drafted that covers when King Boo and Luigi first agree on a “truce”. Having the concept of peace introduced this early would kind of take away from it (you’ll see what I mean when we get to that chapter).

Luigi tightens his grip on the Poltergust’s wand, anger bleeding through his fear. Lightning crackles to life about the plumber’s hands, unbidden. King Boo grins.

“Oh dear, have I upset you, Luigi? I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you angry before. It’s adorable! Like a tiny chihuahua yapping at lion.” The spirit chuckles. “But I think we all know what happens to the chihuahua, don’t we?”

Luigi bites back an angry retort. He quietly sighs—eyes closed—and takes a deep, composing breath as he reigns in his anger. The building electricity fizzles out. Luigi pointedly ignores King Boo’s disappointed huff while he collects himself.

“We don’t have to do this,” he says at last.

King Boo’s malicious grin falters. Confusion replaces triumph.

“What?” the monarch asks, looking genuinely perplexed.

For a moment, Luigi shares the monarch's confusion, surprised at his own words. Initiating peaceful negotiations had become almost second nature to Luigi since he began mending the relationships between mortals and spirits. Despite his unpleasant history with King Boo, the plumber turned mediator had found himself habitually going through the motions of his newfound career. Luigi nearly retracts his engager, but a ludicrous thought has him hesitating.

What if he tried…talking to King Boo? Tried reasoning with them?

Luigi frowns internally at the idea. There’s no way it will work…right? It would be a waste of time and breath…wouldn’t it?

He decides it couldn’t hurt to try.

“We don’t have to do this,” Luigi repeats. He slowly—hesitantly—returns the Poltergust’s wand to its holster and raises his hands in a placating gesture. “We don’t have to fight.”

Hellen and King Boo exchange bewildered looks. The spectral monarch stares back at Luigi, gob smacked.

“Are...are you surrendering?”

Luigi quickly shakes his head, alarmed by the suggestion.

“What? No! I’m just—” the plumber cuts himself off. He takes a deep, composing breath. “I’m asking you to let us go.”

King Boo stares at the plumber uncomprehendingly. Luigi is about to repeat himself when the monarch abruptly bursts into laughter. A distant tittering informs Luigi that Hellen shares the king’s mirth.

“Luigi, you continue to surprise me. I never realized you had such a bizarre sense of humor,” he cackles, wiping away an imaginary tear.

“I’m being serious.”

The spirit’s mouth clamps shut. Luigi quickly presses on, lest he be dismissed before he can even make his case.

“Return my friends to me, let us leave in peace, and I won’t try to capture you or any of the other spirits in this hotel.” Luigi gestures vaguely around him. “No one has to get hurt. No one has to lose their freedom. We can put all of this behind us and move on with our lives—err, afterlives.” He laughs nervously.

No one laughs with him.

===

“Baby’s First Banter Scene”

I thought of a dumb joke reminiscent of King Boo and Luigi’s usual banter, but because the Plunger Scene got removed, it, too, was scrapped.

“It sounds like you’re in good hands, Luigi. I would stick around and join in on the fun, but thanks to your cheap, apish assault, I need to go make an appointment with a chiropractor.”

Despite the severity of the situation, Luigi can’t help but wrinkle his brow at King Boo’s absurdity.

“You don’t have a spine,” he says flatly.

“Neither do you, but I’m not so rude as to call attention to it, now am I?”

Luigi sighs internally. He had walked right into that one, hadn’t he?

“Well then! Now that everything’s settled, I really must be going—these portraits aren’t going to hang themselves.” With a wave, the portrait prisons containing Luigi’s friends and family drift after the monarch as he slowly begins to ascend. King Boo spares the plumber one last sinister grin before he disappears through the ceiling. “See you soon, Luigi.”

And with that, they are gone.

#Luigi #King Boo #Hellen Gravely #Luigi's Mansion 3 #part 4 has undergone the most change of the 5 #and now you see why!#this isn't even all of the cut things #these are just the ones that are the most... coherent XD #I hope you guys enjoyed this little peek into my cut docs #those files are a complete mess #like the ramblings of a madman #LLoG AU #snippet #cut stuff #deleted scenes #suit speaks

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dontgotothenetherworld · 5 years ago

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love alarm au 2 (frankie x phoenix)

i really enjoyed this au, so i decided to write a second part! this one starts at about the same time as the last part ended, right after frankie walks off.

2005 words

cw: nbjo.

frankie was determined to figure out who had rang her alarm. she told y/n earlier that she didn’t care, but that was a lie. she just didn’t want you prying.

she was certain there was only two people who had runge her alarm. she knew that jo was one. it was incredibly awkward that she hadn’t rung their alarm, but they were bound to figure it out sooner or later.

but the second? frankie needed to know.

as she had been walking to y/n’s classroom, she had walked past the library, with her love alarm app open, obviously, and it had gone off. the number had quickly jumped back down to zero as she kept walking, so frankie assumed the person was inside.

she turned the corner, out of sight from you and her brother, and began running to the library. she wasn’t sure how long this person would be there, or if they had already left.

she ripped the door open. she quickly composed herself when she saw a boy, who had been walking toward the exit, staring at her oddly. the boy was familiar, recently transferred to her english class.

”oh! hi! phoenix, what are you doing here?” frankie asked.

”checking out a book, obviously.” he held up a thin green paperback. “is that not what you’re here to do?”

”uhh not exactly.” frankie pulled her phone out, “you see, i have love alarm, do you have it? anyway, i was walking by here earlier, and someone rang it. so, on the off chance that they’re still in here, i really need to know who it is. is there anyone else here?” frankie blurted.

”slow down there, frankie.” phoenix laughed.

”do you have love alarm?” frankie asked again, this time showing him her screen open to the app.

”i downloaded it this morning,” phoenix started, “but i deleted it a little while ago.”

frankie deflated a bit. “why’d you do that? also, is anyone else in here?” frankie looked over his shoulders.

phoenix looked back. “unless the it’s the librarian, which i think would be kind of illegal, i don’t think so.”

frankie squinted her eyes at the librarian. he was a recent college graduate, and had quite a collection of literature themed button up shirts. “y’know… illegal, but…”

”very illegal, please get that idea out of your head.”

”thought gone, head empty, happy?”

phoenix laughed, “sure.”

”wait, so why did you delete the app?”

phoenix shrugged, “it just didn’t sit right to me. i really don’t feel like love should be told by an app. and also i just moved here, so it’s basically definite that now one gives a shit about me yet.”

frankie, who really hoped that phoenix had rung her alarm earlier, asked, “did it ring while you had it?”

phoenix looked down, embarrassed, “i only checked in crowded places, because… more people, it’s more likely that one of them has a crush on me. that’s how it works, right? maybe not because it didn’t change from zero all day.”

frankie reached out to grab his arm, to try to comfort him.

”what about you? i mean, obviously at least one person did, because you barrelled in here.”

frankie hesitated for a second, “just the one.” she lied. she didn’t really think it over, the lie. but she wanted him to think that she would definitely be available to him, if he had a crush on her. she would be anyway, but it’s a bit harder to explain the best friends with benefits, where one person accidentally caught feelings, situation she had with jo. well, it wasn’t hard to explain, but she didn’t want to give phoenix the wrong impression. but he seemed understanding, so he might get it.

whatever, she had already said the lie. too late to take it back now.

phoenix was very attractive, she’d stop fucking with jo to fall in love with him in a heartbeat. frankie was suddenly glad that he had deleted the app, otherwise sometime during their conversation, his alarm would suddenly go off, and it definitely wasn’t the hot librarian.

frankie glanced at the hot librarian again. if only it weren’t so illegal.... frankie should read more often. damn.

”well, i’ve got to go. and since you involved me in this, i am now very invested in if you figure out who this person is, can i please give you my number so you can keep me updated.” said phoenix.

”uh sure.” frankie handed him her phone.

”i know this is a weird way to make friends, but hey, i’m new. text me even if it’s not love alarm related.” phoenix smiled and started walking out, towards the parking lot.

frankie briefly considered chasing after him, begging him to redownload love alarm, and rejoice in their shared ring, but decided otherwise. she had a book to check out, anyway.

phoenix was somehow able to act cool the entire time he was talking to frankie, but now that he was by himself, he was shaking like a car on an old wooden roller coaster. it was bad, but luckily most everyone else had already left the school. or else they were in the school, doing club stuff, or on some unseen field.

phoenix slid into the driver’s seat of his dad’s old car, even though he had no intention of driving home at that time. he needed to relax a little before he felt he would be safe enough on the road.

phoenix opened the book he had just checked out from the library. the perks of being a wallflower. the librarian, who frankie thought was attractive, had recommended it to him. phoenix had been expecting a less well known recommendation from a guy who looked like he considered ‘indie’ to be one of his personality traits. not only that, he looked like the kind of guy who had a superiority complex about liking things that no one else had ever heard of.

phoenix read about two and a half sentences before he noticed something moving from the corner of his eye. one of the only other cars in his row, a good five or so spaces down, there was someone hunched over their steering wheel.

phoenix turned back to his book. he had decided that whatever they were going through was none of his business.

he looked up again. the person had straightened up, and he was able to see their tear streaked face.

phoenix turned back to his book, but he was contemplating why they were crying, instead of really absorbing the words.

phoenix turned back to look at them. this person just looked like they needed someone to vent to. or at least just know that they could vent to someone if they needed to.

phoenix had made up his mind, he was going to walk over to them. he felt a little bit of anxiety, worried that they might be rude to him, even though he just wanted to help, but he decided that potentially making them feel better was worth it. but what if he made them feel worse? shit...

phoenix knocked on the driver’s side window. they lowered it.

pawing away at their tears they said, “what do you want.”

it slightly bother phoenix that they phrased a question as a statement, but he said, “you were, um, crying and stuff, and i wanted to know if you needed to, uh, vent to someone. but if that’s stupid and i shouldn’t have walked over here, i can drive off and pretend this never happened.”

they stared at him oddly. “y’know what? i do need to vent, thanks.” they unlocked the car doors, and gestured for phoenix to sit shotgun.

”i’m phoenix, by the way.” he said as he sat.

”jo.” they rolled up their window. “so... “ they tried to figure out where to start, “my best friend and i, well… a while ago we started hooking up. i thought that she had feelings for me, right? but thanks to this fucking love alarm, she knows that i have feelings for her, but my alarm hasn’t gone off once! all day!”

”that sucks, but you know people can’t control their feelings…”

”i know that! i’m not really even upset about that. it’s just… she hasn’t addressed it. she hasn’t mentioned it. and she seems to still want to hook up with me!”

”and you want more than that?”

”hell no! not if she doesn’t have feelings for me! i just want her to stop using me. i either want her to be just my friend, or my girlfriend.”

”have you tried telling her that?” phoenix was trying to be supportive, but he was pretty sure he was just become the combination of every scene like this that he had seen in movies or tv shows, and he was just regurgitating those words.

”i don’t think she’d listen…” jo said glumly. “frankie cares about herself far more than she cares about anyone else.”

frankie? wait a minute, what’s going on here… “frankie healy?” phoenix asked.

”yeah, why?”

phoenix started thinking out loud, “so… i was just talking to her in the library, and she said that only one person had rung her love alarm all day, but… you just said you rang hers, and she told me that she was trying to figure out who it was that rang hers.”

”she was trying to figure it out? she told me that she didn’t care. and why the fuck would she say that only one person rang hers?”

”i’m trying to figure that out too. what would she have to gain from telling me that?”

”probably avoiding talking about our relationship, like she always does…”

the two sat in silence, mulling over their newfound knowledge.

jo suddenly realized something. they looked up at phoenix, “she likes you.”

”what?”

”she didn’t want you to think that there was anyone else in the way of you dating her, so she conveniently didn’t mention me.”

”that’s ridiculous, she doesn’t even know who rang her alarm. the other person, that is.”

”did you open the app with her?”

”no, i deleted it like an hour ago.”

”do me a favor, and don’t download it again.” jo advised. “she definitely thinks it’s you who rang her alarm, and i don’t think she cares if she’s wrong.”

”what do you mean?” phoenix asked.

jo groaned. “this damn has probably just made it easier for her. she’ll use it to find people who like her, then use the people until she’s done with them.”

”wait a minute, you don’t know that.”

”yes i do, i have super psychic powers, and i’m predicting the future for you! you don’t want to just be the first person in her string of flings, do you?”

”i… don’t think so. but wait, frankie seems so nice.”

”that’s how she gets you! ugh i am definitely going to tell her how i feel.” jo got their phone out and started texting. “thank you so much for this, phoenix.”

phoenix took that as them asking him to leave.

”oh, wait. what’s your number? i need to keep you updated on this.”

phoenix told them, and they sent a smiley face.

”i should probably get going.” he said, glancing at the time on his phone.

”okay, bye! seriously, i really needed this conversation, so i’m going to thank you some more.” they smiled at him.

phoenix weakly smiled back, and jogged back to his car. he started the engine, even though his head was up in the clouds.

was that a good thing? did he do jo a favor with that? or was he just the catalyst in their radical conclusion?

he figured that jo would’ve ended up at that, no matter if he had talked to them or not, but he still felt personally responsible.

he checked the time. shit, he was going to have to hurry home if he wanted to drop his school stuff off before work.

@meangirlsx @meangirlmurphy @eliza-is-confused @boredomimi

#jagged little pill #jagged little pill musical #jagged little pill broadway #jlp #jlp broadway #jagged little pill fanfiction #jlp fanfiction #phoenix #phoenix jagged little pill #phoenix jlp #frankie healy #frankie x phoenix #love alarm au #fic

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cr0wprince · 4 years ago

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Now I’m afraid my name might be brought up though. I did some shitty things with her when we were friends. It’s been five to almost seven years (five since the last time I spoke to her and almost seven since I met her). I was 17-18 in the time I knew her and I’m very easily influenced by the people around me, but I’m ultimately responsible for my actions. I saw another ex-friend of hers brought up (not by name) and now I’m kind of scared.

I’m gonna be a little vague and my memory isn’t the best (I try to block things out as a defense mechanism), but I’m going to try to recount it, just for my own benefit. I’m not even going to name her, but will refer to her as LR. I don’t think anyone cares tbh lmao

I met her in 2014. It was probably February or March, so I was 17. We were both cosplaying Attack on Titan, very big at the time. Someone posted in a con Facebook group that they made a cosplay group for the area/con for Attack on Titan. I only had my jeans, shirt, jacket (that I made), wig, and glasses for Hanji at that time and I posted a picture, “I’m not too confident in how I look, but here’s my cosplay.” and she commented that it was a good cosplay. We went from there, started chatting, and made plans to meet at the con. She was 19 at the time, of it really matters, but we were still age appropriate friends.

The con comes by. I didn’t wear Attack on Titan the first day, felt kind of left out when we started meeting other people from the group. She’s always been a social butterfly (I think it’s an attention thing more than she actually enjoys it tbh, but I might be biased??) and I’ve been really shy about approaching people after being bullied in middle school. The next two days I wore my unfinished SNK cosplay, didn’t have the belts, but had a fun time.

She ran a panel and promised that I could be Hanji in it and let someone else be Hanji as well, and this person got more attention because she was more outgoing, which kind of bummed me out, but at 17, I was a very jealous cosplayer and would get jealous about people cosplaying the same thing as me. Not a healthy mindset, but it is what it is and you grow from it.

She had told me she was in pre-med (I’m going to remind you she’s 19 at this point, not unusual but it’s what she tells me next which is the questionable part) and that she’s going to start on the medical stuff the next year. I’m 17 and naive and don’t question it. I know now pre-med takes four years. This is an example of her lying to me/holding things in.

We continued being friends with the SNK group, had meetups at a local park, and whatever. She lamented to me about not being able to go to Colossalcon because she couldn’t afford it or something and my parents pay for cons, so I talked them into letting her stay with us. I had started cosplaying Ymir to her Christa and I did have a cry privately to LR when another girl cosplayed Ymir to another girl’s Christa because the other Christa felt left out by me being LR’s Ymir. I felt jealous they got more attention, again, not a healthy mindset, but I was 17 and convinced I was going to be a professional cosplayer. I know now it’s a bad mindset. LR took my meltdown the wrong way, which I’ll get to later.

It wasn’t long after, maybe a couple months. She had stopped hanging out with the friend I had met her with at the con, which I realize now is kind of sus, but I didn’t think anything of it at the time. But anyway, a couple months later at most, she makes a post in the Facebook group that she’s been feeling left out of the SNK group. A few people from it got together to talk about it, she finds out, and I get pissed. I make a big post in the group about how they’re purposely leaving her out. I’m loyal to a fault, and sometimes it blinds me. It splits the group, they still keep together, but LR and I separate from them.

We move on to different series and start doing cosplay photos. It’s something I wanted to do for a while. She’s a little hesitant, but I hype it up and she eventually gets into it. At Otakon, she asks mentions if I’d be okay with her cosplaying Juvia (a big comfort character of mine, and one I’d failed to finish a cosplay of that con, but I’d gotten Levy done, which still worked with her Lucy) and I’m thrown off guard. I tell her no lmao. I mean really though, what would I do? But it’s important later.

I have big plans. I don’t always finish my big plans. I want to do a ton of different cosplays and she feeds into me. She finishes things while I normally don’t. I realize I shouldn’t have agreed to do so many, but also, the one’s she made aren’t unwearable? She can cosplay without me matching? But it’s something she internalizes.

We book lots of shoots. It’s fun! We don’t get the most expensive photographers (we’re 18 and 20 at the time) but it’s fun. There’s a particular photographer I wanted to work with and she books her since she’s dealing with it at this point since I have a lot of anxiety talking to people. By the time the con rolls around, my costume didn’t work out the way I wanted and my skirt is held up with safety pins. It shows in the photos, so does her back acne. She goes on a tangent on her Facebook cosplay page about how unprofessional the photographer is, how she doesn’t edit photos for anyone but her friends. I, unfortunately, share it. At that time, neither of us have a big following (I still don’t, she doesn’t really either, only 3,700 after she remade, but did have almost 10k at one point), so it doesn’t go far. The photographer and friends stick up for the photographer and it doesn’t go anywhere luckily.

I’m falling deeper into depression at this point. I’m not finishing projects I’m supposed to do with her, messages are spotty on my end. We still do a couple of cons together. The next con of the first we met at comes around, I don’t have anything done, I’m mortified. I skip a whole day. It’s in driving distance so it’s not like I was wasting a whole hotel day. She gets photos solo. It seems fine.

She messages me one day that her parents kicked her out. Something about a fight over her mom saying minimum wage workers don’t work as hard and LR snapping back. Her parents were really nice the couple of times I met them, which isn’t always indicative of how someone really is, but now I feel in my gut that there had to be something more. It feels like petty reason. She moves into her grandparents (and further selfies match that, so it seems like it had to be bad if she never went back). She messages me this and I’m thrown so off guard. Yeah, we called each other best friends. We didn’t talk to many other people as far as I knew at that point, but I had no idea what to say. It’s bad on my part, but I didn’t answer her for a week.

She didn’t message me or anything, didn’t delete me off Facebook, but vague posted me there about being there for people when they won’t be there for you, and people were hyping her up. I realized it might’ve been about me. I called her crying, terrified. Sent her messages. I don’t exactly remember what transpired, but did make up.

There was a point she told me she was dropping pre-med to become an accountant because it took a year and she wanted to focus on cosplay. Again, stupid 18yo me believed that that made sense and was like, “Oh okay!”

We went to a couple more cons, I’m pretty sure she was using me. We make plans for Youmacon, but I don’t message her for like a week in September of 2015. She asks if I’m okay (the only time) I tell her I’m doing really bad. We don’t talk until close to the con. I admit to her that I was thinking of admitting myself to the psych ward it was that bad, but though I didn’t tell her that, it’s ultimately a very hard, very personal choice. (I made it in May and it’s not an easy choice.) She tears me a new one, saying I should’ve went, that I was using her for companionship. She said she had plans to go to another con?? So the way I see it, she cared more about going to a con than anything else. She never checked in on me after I told her I was doing bad, just to take my time.

She has a new bff at this point. This is going to be so cruel, but her new friend isn’t as put together, which is fine! Cosplay is for fun! But I mention this because they get photos together. After my obsession with becoming a professional cosplayer, LR got into that mindset too. I’m so fucking sure that she used this other girl in photos to look better next to. The difference is so obvious in photos.

I make a cosplay that LR cosplayed when we were friends. I’m so proud. I haven’t finished anything in months. I cosplay a couple of things she did, but we were friends at one point, we like the same series, and there are a lot of big series. It’s bound to happen.

She vagues me on Instagram. She continues to stalk me on there (and I did her, not proud of it, but I’ll admit it). She posts things about how an ex friend had a breakdown over her having other friends (when I confided in her my jealousy over the Ymir/Christa duo), how I wouldn’t let her cosplay Juvia lmao (this still gets me. What would I do? Break your arm? You asked me on the spot and I was uncomfortable.). There was one Juvia cosplay post that I mentioned I had lost weight because while my uncle was dying, I wasn’t eating. I was helping with cleaning his house and I just wasn’t fucking eating. She took that as a jab about her because she has self image issues. There was also a big post she made how she KNEW I was cosplaying all the same things as her to make her jealous and to make her insecure, mentioning me by name even. I reported it and it got taken down.

I’d heard things through the grapevine. How she started shit in the Fate community and she was afraid of being beat up at Katsucon’s public photoshoot. How she tried to make a Love Live group, but when two girls couldn’t afford it and they would no longer have all nine, she threw a fit and cancelled the whole group. I’d also heard about her making a fuss over photos she got back when a cosplayer’s grandparent was dying. I stayed away after like a year, but a couple of people who knew me that knew I was friends with her would tell me things.

I wasn’t the best person, either. I’ll take responsibility for that. I wish I could apologize to the people I hurt while friends with her, but I no longer remember their names. I was a dumb teenager. I still get swept up in the people around me and get carried away when the people I are about are hurt. Maybe it’s something I need to work on. But, I ultimately don’t think she’s grown. I don’t think she’s gotten better. I think she’s only gotten worse over the year.

I’m not proofreading. There might be more, but it was a lot to go through, but I wanted to get it out. I hope the read more works, but I’m gonna throw on a long post warning too. If you read this, thank you, by the way. I just felt like I had to get it out.

#rachel’s rambling #long post

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krreader · 6 years ago

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the jeon twins.

pairing: jeon jeongguk x reader (well, technically it’s two jeongguk’s lol) fandom: bts warnings: non idol!au ; college!au ; twins!au genre: fluff ; angst

summary: jk thought he was doing this for his twin’s good. falling in love with you while pretending to be kookie was never something he planned on doing and he hated himself for it.

a/n: it’s days like these where I’m thankful I know how to use photoshop lol. anyways, about the ending, I really didn’t know what I wanted to do, so I figured I leave an open end and see what you guys think. I might make two separate endings where you end up with either the one or the other, but idk, we’ll see. thank you @vincent-j-clint-renoir for the request ♥ (masterlist links are in my description box)

“What are you doing?” JK asked with furrowed eyebrows as he approached his twin brother, “Let's go home.”

“Ah, yeah. Right,” his brother immediately picked up his backpack and his books, but kept his eyes firmly on something – or rather, someone – who was just walking out of the university building.

“Why don't you just ask her out if you're so interested in her? It's literally no big deal,” JK shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and continued chewing on his gum.

“For you maybe,” his twin muttered under his breath.

That was just the thing, wasn't it? The Jeon twins where actually quite famous around campus.. well, actually just one of them was. They called one JK, a fitting name for someone like him. Bad boy, womanizer, the cool guy, the one that everyone wanted to be friends with. And then there was Kookie, also a fitting name for someone like his twin brother. He was the shy one, the one that rather studied and watched everything from afar and the one who could count his friends on one hand.

JK was experienced with girls. He’s had his share of tumbles and “girlfriends” and enjoyed his life when it came down to sex. Kookie on the other hand has never had a girlfriend - except for that one relationship when he was five with his neighbor - and has definitely not had sex, as much as he would like to.

No, he wasn't like his twin at all.

So he couldn't just go up to you and ask you out, something that JK would do in a heartbeat, because he knew how to talk to girls.

And as they were passing by you and your friends, all of them giggled frantically when JK was smirking at them. And then there was you, smiling not at JK, but at Kookie, who blushed straight away.

Maybe that’s why he had fallen in love with you. Because you never seemed to care about JK, always about Kookie. Whenever it was the two of them together, your focus was on the shy one. It’s not that you’ve ever exchanged more than five words with each other, but you still seemed to like him..

And maybe that's why JK was so determined to help his twin get the girl, because you seemed to be as shy about this as Kookie was.

Or maybe it was the way he found Kookie scrolling through your social media that night with a sad sigh, before closing the app like he did every night.

Maybe that's what finally made JK snap and steal his phone when Kookie was taking a shower.

Maybe that's what made him message you from his account, asking you if you wanted to go out with him - Kookie, not JK.

If only he had known what a grave mistake that was then.

“Dude, oh my fucking god, you just got a message from JK!” your friend nearly dropped your phone when the message came in and pushed the phone into your face.

“That's.. Kookie,” you gently took it away from her, but she had already lost interest as it wasn't the Jeon twin she was interested in.

You, on the other hand?

“Is he asking you to study with him or what?”

“No.. he asked me out to have dinner with him later tonight..”

“Oh my god, say yes and tell him to bring his brother so we can go together. Oh god, please, (Y/N). You know how much I want JK!”

“That's.. not a very good idea for a first date. I feel like you'd sleep with him on the table.”

“Can you blame me?” she chuckled and fell onto her back, staring dreamily at your ceiling, “He's literally a god.”

To be quite honest, you didn't understand why everyone was thirsting after JK so much, when his twin brother looked exactly like him. Was it only because JK was a bad boy? Because that's what girls liked? Because you rather liked Kookie for his intelligence and for his shyness. You liked how he didn't chase after girls, but rather just smiled at them when they smiled at him. You liked how he was respectful and valued rules.

You'd pick Kookie any day.

And so that's what made you say yes.

However what you didn't know, was that you hadn't been messaging with Kookie, but with JK all along.

JK figured that he should probably take that first step for his twin brother, should get to know you a bit and make sure that you were okay, right? That's what a good brother would do. No, he was totally not doing this because he actually thought you were really cute. And he only deleted the conversation once everything was settled, so that the surprise wouldn’t get ruined when JK would come back later that night and would tell him that Kookie was now dating the girl of his dreams, all thanks to his twin brother.

“Hey, can I borrow some of your clothes?” JK asked, but didn't wait for Kookie to answer, already opening up his closet.

“Why would you want some of my clothes?” Kookie looked up from his book and watched his twin change with furrowed eyebrows.

“I just.. feel like wearing something like this tonight,” he shrugged, trying to play innocent.

“Where are you going?”

“Ah, just out, you know. Nothing special.”

He already started to feel guilty, but continued to tell himself that he was doing this for Kookie. That when he would get home that night, he would be the best brother of the century, because he managed to get his twin brother the girl he always wanted.

“Have fun, I guess. And don't ruin my clothes, or I'll tell mom about it.”

And so about an hour later, JK smiled brightly at you, but quickly averted his eyes when he realized he had to pretend to be Kookie.

Don't be confident, or she'll notice.

“Hey,” you smiled, awkwardly standing in front of him.

“You.. look beautiful,” attractive, smoking hot, drop dead gorgeous.. that's what JK would have said. But no, he had to pretend to be his boring brother tonight.

“Thank you. And.. thank you for asking me out. I.. was actually hoping you would.”

So you really were interested in Kookie, huh? Interesting.

“Do you want to go inside?”

It wasn't the fanciest restaurant, but better than the restaurants JK usually brought his dates. This would definitely be the kind of place Kookie would take a girl to.. if he ever had dates.

“Sure,” and so you followed him inside, waited until you were seated, before you cleared your throat and smiled again, “So.. how was your day?”

“It just got a lot better,” he grinned, but then quickly shook his head when you looked surprised at his confidence, “I mean.. well, because you're here and because.. you know, because you're you and..-”

Oh, he hated this.

But he didn't hate your laugh. He didn't hate the way you smiled at him like he was the only one that mattered and that you actually liked this shyness of him.

How come he had never noticed just how pretty you actually were?

And smart.. and kind.. and loving.. traits that the girls JK was going out with didn’t usually have.

They were hot and good for sex, but none of them were really bright. None of them could make his heart beat faster..

He has never wanted to really get to know a girl. He wanted to sleep with them, then he wanted to move on to the next one. That's how it's been for years. Never had he dreaded to say goodbye to someone like he was dreading it now.

“Thank you for walking me home,” you said with a smile, looking down to your keys, “I.. really liked tonight.”

“Yeah, me too,” he said honestly. Not as Kookie, but as JK.

You hesitated for a moment, but somehow you felt like it was right. You felt like a small kiss wouldn't be too bad, right? And he'd probably be too shy to go for it anyways, so why not?

If JK's brain had worked properly, he would have pushed you away and he would have told you the truth. But the butterflies in his stomach prevented him from doing so. No, instead, they made him put his hands on your waist and pull you closer. And maybe you were surprised when you could feel his tongue against your lower lip, but you also didn't seem to mind. If anything, you pulled him even closer towards you.

“Well, hello, hello, hello,” your friend leaned against the door with a chuckle. Only that made you and him part, turning your heads to look at her and you immediately looking down in embarrassment, “And here I always thought that only your twin brother could kiss like that.”

“(Y/F/N)!”

“What? It's true! I might switch to Team Kookie now..”

Kookie, who was actually JK, just chuckled and kissed your cheek one last time, “I'll text you, alright?”

“Yeah.. thanks again for tonight.”

“You're home late,” the voice of his twin brother made JK jump and then freeze as he stared into the eyes of the man he just pretended to be for the last couple of hours, “Where did you go?”

“Why are you still up? It's way past your bed time..”

“You're not funny, you know?” he took a sip from his water and became even more suspicious when JK suddenly looked at his phone and.. smiled. But not in a: 'I got laid tonight' way but in a 'I'm so glad she texted', “Who is that?”

“Huh?” he immediately turned off his phone and pushed it into his pockets, shaking his head, “Nobody. Go to bed, Kookie. It's late.”

He'd get behind it sooner or later.

Hopefully later.

JK knew that this was fucked up. Each day that passed, he realized just how bad it was. When he saw you in school, he always made sure that his brother was far away from you, so that neither of you would uncover the lies that JK piled up.

The truth was, he just didn't want this to end yet.

And it was too late now to tell you the truth. And besides, he couldn’t break his brother’s heart, not yet. He loved him too much for that.

He knew that he couldn't keep going like this forever, but.. just a little longer, he told himself as he was kissing you behind the stands of the soccer field, pulling you as close as he could.

“I need to go back to class,” you giggled into the kiss.

“Not yet.. just.. a little longer,” he replied, kissing your neck, “Five more minutes.”

“That's what you said five minutes ago..-”

“Then just two more minutes. Just two more, I promise..-”

You were happy. Both of you. You were laughing and you enjoyed these feelings that you had for each other, both of you looking forward to the future ahead of you.

But while you were so completely lost in each others embraces, you didn't notice a third person watching.

You didn't hear his heart breaking.

“Hey, hey, hey, brother of mine. What's up?” JK plopped down onto the couch next to his twin brother, but Kookie just continued writing something into his notebook, not even looking up. Not even when JK nudged his side, “What's up? Didn't get an A today?”

“Honey, could you help me in the kitchen?” their mother asked, looking directly at JK with a worried look in her eyes.

And even though he didn't like leaving his brother like this, he felt like his mother knew what was going on.

She always did.

“What's up with him today?” he asked as he had closed the door, “He's never this quiet.”

“I think.. I think something happened in school,” his mother said in a worried tone, “His eyes looked like he had cried.”

“Cried?!” and then rage consumed JK at the thought that someone might have been making fun of his twin brother. He used to fight every single bully his brother had encountered in his life and it never mattered to him if he came home with bruises all over his body. He would never let anyone make fun of him. And that's why he stormed back out of the kitchen and demanded: “Tell me who it was. I'll kill them.”

“JK stop,” his mother shook her head and ran after him, wanting to give her other son a bit of space. She felt like that’s what he needed more right now.

“You want to know who it was?” Kookie finally spoke for the first time since he came home today, angrily pushing the notebook down to the ground and standing up, both his mother and JK taken aback by this behavior, “Then kill yourself, I guess.”

“Kookie!”

“What?” JK narrowed his eyes at him, “What the fuck are you on?”

“I guess you ran out of girls to fuck with, hm? Or maybe it just wasn't exciting for you anymore.. maybe you felt like taking away the one person that actually mattered to me would be fun.”

JK blinked a couple of times and tried to remain calm, but he knew that he was fucked.

He knew that Kookie knew.

“What.. what are you talking about, sweetheart?” his mother asked soothingly, trying to remain the calming force in this fight.

“You knew how much I cared about her. You knew how much I liked her. And you just.. took her away from me!” he screamed.

“Listen, it's not like that..-”

But when JK wanted to touch Kookie, he did something he had never done before. He punched his twin brother straight in the face. His mother screamed, JK fell down the floor and Kookie started crying.

It was a mess.

“I loved her. Me. For years. And you knew that. You..- and she..- she looks at you.. like I always wanted her to look at me,” and that was probably the worst thing. That she fell in love with him too. That it was always JK and never Kookie, “I just wanted her to pick me.. just for once.. I wanted it to be me.”

And as Kookie grabbed his jacket and left the house, his mother running after him, JK whispered: “She did pick you..”

“I texted you ten minutes ago.. how come you're here this quickly?” you laughed as you pulled him inside by his jacket, already kissing him.

And while JK, who still pretended to be Kookie, would have liked to pretend a little while longer, he gently pushed you back and cupped your face with one of his hands.

“I.. I think we need to talk.”

It was only then that you saw his black eye, worry washing over you right away as you inspected it.

“What.. what the hell, Kookie?!”

“(Y/N), please, just..-” he took a deep breath, nausea hitting him at the name, “I need to talk to you.”

If you hadn't been so worried, you would have thought he came here to break up with you. Which, in a way, was true.

You sat down on the couch, but not before you had given him an ice pack he could press against his eye.

“Tell me what happened.”

It would probably be better to start from the beginning, but he somehow had to talk about his feelings for you first.. hoping it would make this a little less.. shitty.

“I.. like you. A lot,” he nodded, “More than I ever thought I would like anyone in my life, so that's why I'm telling you this so late.”

“What do you mean?” you furrowed your eyebrows.

“I never wanted anyone to get hurt. I just wanted to help my brother. I never.. I never thought I'd fall in love with you in the process.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but not because of happiness.

“Kookie?”

JK licked over his lips and then finally shook his head, “No.”

There was a reason he never went further than making out with you. There was a reason he always pushed you away when you wanted to get intimate. Making out with you when you thought he was someone else was bad enough, but he couldn't sleep with you.

That wasn't fair to you.

“JK?” you whispered.

“He loves you so much, (Y/N),” his voice was breaking from how hurt he was by his own words, “I just never realized how much until today. I never would have let it get this far if I had known.”

“This.. entire time? It's always been you?”

He didn't meet your eyes, too afraid what he might see if he did, but instead he was staring at the ice pack in his hands.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry for having done this to you.”

Your brain was in shambles. Mainly because you didn't know what you were feeling right now. Betrayed? For sure. Confused? Absolutely. Because who did you fall in love with then? JK? Because during this entire time, he pretended to be his brother. So did you fall in love with Kookie then?

“How long did you think this would last? Were you always going to pretend?”

“I wanted to tell you sooner, but I was.. scared,” he said honestly, suddenly feeling vulnerable, “Scared you'd leave me if you realized it wasn't him but me.”

And he never thought these words would leave his mouth.

That someone would actually want his brother more than him. Maybe that's what it's truly been about this entire time.. maybe Kookie was right.

Maybe this was a fucking competition after all.

“Why did you even do this in the first place?”

“Kookie has been interested in you for years, (Y/N). Literally years. I figured that if I take that first step for him, if I can convince him that you have good intentions and that you genuinely want to get to know him, he wouldn't be so scared anymore. But then when we had that first date you were just.. nothing like I expected you to be. I liked you. And I wanted to get to know you.”

He should have told you then. Then you would have got to know the real him too, maybe would have even accepted to go out with him as JK and not Kookie..

“I don't know what to say,” you mumbled.

“You don't have to say anything. I needed you to know the truth, that's why I came here. And I.. wanted to see you one last time.”

Because for him, this was the end. He couldn't be with you, knowing how much hurt he had caused his brother with it.

Yes, he had fallen in love with you and yes, he would love to spend his life with you.. but his brother..- he couldn't do that to him, even if you gave him the chance.

“Did you mean it? Any of it?” you asked as he was already halfway through the door.

“All of it,” he turned around to look at you, a sad smile on his face, “Maybe.. maybe one day you could get to know the real Kookie. He's.. a great guy.”

But who did you really want?

Kookie or JK?

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