#but I figured they needed something sweeter and less angsty so

[shelbysbrother]

Wake Up Call (cora & helios)

Wake Up Call: One of our characters is trying to wake the other up

It was to be a morning of dull meetings for Helios. Or rather, it was according to the advisor that continued to squawk at her, rattling off every single detail to Cora like she didn’t already want to choke him. Finally, when they reached Helios’ bedroom doors, two stoic guards at either side, she rounded on the portly man with a forced smile. “Unless you want to see the king indecent, you’ll let me get him ready for these oh-so-important meetings. Okay?”

Without waiting for an answer, she bowed her head and glided through the grand double doors, closing them quietly behind her despite her heated exit. There were probably other attendants who could do this. Cora had her own rooms for more than one reason, and they were often where she spent the night, more comfortable and safe underneath her own sheets. As the dutiful wife she had to be, she came to his quarters when he called, but those weren’t always nights she wanted to remember. In fact, they hardly ever were. This morning, however, she had volunteered to rouse the king from his slumber, insisting the staff needed a break, and she needed more time with him. Truthfully, she’d had visions of being anything but sweet, yet as she turned to finally face her sleeping husband, all thoughts of toying with him vanished.

For as larger-than-life as Helios tried to make himself appear to the public, he looked awfully small in his extravagant room and his grandiose bed, the ceilings too high and the room too sparse. He looked alone. And she hated, more than anything, that he looked so innocent. Cora sighed and stepped closer to the bed, the room barely lit except for the light that slipped through the curtains. He laid face down on the bed, head buried into the pillows so much that she could barely see the side of his face. He still wore his pants and boots from the night before, his shirt the only thing that had been discarded. Probably too tired to do much else, she deducted. The sight of him made her want to put more covers on him, not off. Stars, how she hated this. She hated that her heart tugged for him right now.

It was too much like how she daydreamed it would be when everything was right. She would be the doting wife who woke him sweetly each morning, who took such good care of him for the rest of their days. And she would have, too. She would have taken such good care of him. But, the reality of it was, had he not betrayed her and everyone she loved, she would never be with him. And even with that, he still wasn’t hers. Not really. She tried to remember that as she carefully sat on the plush mattress, but the temptation to pretend, just this once, was too strong.

Her fingers glided along his bare back, running sweetly down his spine and back up again. She did this for a few moments, fingers tracing all sorts of different patterns on his back before her hand finally went to his hair, stroking it back with a gentle touch. How many times had she pictured doing this? Just this? Was this how Priam and Selene woke up next to each other? Or Rhea and Cadmus? Was this what it could be like to be married to someone you love? She sighed at the thought, finally pulling her hand away slowly when she knew she had to actually wake him soon. She couldn’t keep playing in a fantasy. Oh, Helios…

“Don’t stop,” came a gentle voice that wasn’t as thick with sleep as she thought it would be. Cora’s brows furrowed as she tried to peek over Helios’ shoulder, only to find that his eyes were still closed. Had he been awake this whole time?

Cora leaned in now, laying her arm against his back, and resting her head atop her arm. She used her free hand to stroke back his hair as she’d done before. “If you cancelled your meetings for today, I wouldn’t have to.” But he wouldn’t. “Would you cancel your meetings for me, Helios?”

It was silent, like he was afraid she might stop again if he told her the truth. He told it anyway. “You know I can’t do that.”

“I know.” She knew that if it came down to her and his stolen kingdom, he would always choose his crown. He would always do whatever it took to keep his power safe, and right now, that meant attending boring meetings. Cora could never completely have his heart so long as Norta was in the picture. If she could ever even have his heart at all. Did he know how to love? He supposedly loved Priam, and Rhea, and all of them. Look where that got them.

He turned a little now, not enough to disturb her position much, but just enough so she could lay on his chest instead of his back, her hand continuing to play with his hair as he gazed at her through hooded lids. While she watched him, she brought her hand down from his hair to stroke his cheek, then down further to trail her thumb across his bottom lip. His eyes didn’t leave hers the entire time. “Lie to me,” he whispered unexpectedly.

An unusual request, but she was curious. “What lie would you like to hear?”

Helios went quiet, expression becoming more serious, if that was possible. His hand came up to brush her hair now, a longing in his eyes that she wasn’t sure she could remember ever seeing there. “Tell me you love me.”

That, Cora had no expected. Nor did she understand why he would ask her to do that. Was this a cruel power trip? It didn’t make sense…“Why?”

“Because I want…” he trailed off, seemingly unable to finish that sentence. He wanted what, though? He wanted her? He wanted to pretend all was well as she did? What did he want? What could Helios Calore want that he didn’t already have?

She showed him mercy, though. She showed him compassion she used to always want to give him. Cora leaned in closer, not stopping until her lips were just grazing his. Then, finally, she moved just an inch more to make contact. She kissed him hesitantly at first, and then she felt his arms go around her, his response more urgent than she expected it to be. When she pulled away, she stared adoringly into his eyes, remembering days when she’d wanted just this. “I love you, Helios. I’ve always loved you, and I think I always will.”

How it would’ve made everything so much easier if that were a lie.

“Your turn,” she whispered, pressing another kiss to his lips. “Lie to me.”

He watched her a long time before answering. “What would you have me tell you?”

Cora thought long and hard about all the things she’d always wanted him to say. All the things she would never be able to trust were true now that they were married. “Tell me you love me.” He seemed surprised, like he was ready to protest if given the chance, but she didn’t want him to lie to her until she was ready, so she pressed on. “Tell me…tell me that even if you didn’t need a Skonos at your side, you would still choose me. Tell me that if you could have any girl in the world, you would still want me as your wife. Tell me I can trust you. Tell me I mean something to you.”

“Cora…” Sometimes she could see just when the realization hit Helios, over and over again, that he utterly betrayed her trust and love in him. Her eyes pleaded with him, though, to lay down his pride just this once and indulge her as he used to. Tell her these lies so she could hold on to something when she knew she could never hold on to him.

His mouth met hers again, never rushed, never demanding. Tentative, like he knew he may never get a chance to kiss her so intimately like this again. He tried to roll her onto the bed more, let her head rest against the pillows, but she stopped him, not wanting him to hover over her as he did…as he did some nights. Beneath him, she could let her mind wander. She didn’t want it to wander now. So instead they laid side by side, Helios’ hand trailing down Cora’s arm as he looked at her. It was hard to let down the stony walls she’d put up to keep out the raging inferno that was Helios. She was afraid that, if she let them down even for a second, she would melt right into him. But she tried now. She tried to let him in, if only for this moment.

“I love you.” What a sweet, sweet sound it was to hear. She closed her eyes a moment, let the lie sink in, then looked to him again so he could finish. “Could I have any woman I wanted, I would choose you. Always.” Another slow kiss to her lips. “Trust me. Please.” Again, another kiss. A ragged exhale. “You mean everything.” Carefully, he moved closer to her, pressed a kiss to her lips, her cheek, her jawline, instinct telling him to roll her over so he had a better angle. Self control telling him to pull back again. No one ever said he wasn’t a smart man. “Let me in, Cora,” he whispered, their eyes locking in a heated stare. “I miss you.”

It hit her, this time, that maybe he was as starved for touch and affection and warmth as she was. That being the violent king he’d become meant being a lonely king. And something inside her told her it was what he deserved. He’d asked for this - demanded it - and so he got it. Ironic, actually. She wasn’t the only one who should’ve been careful of what she wished for.

There was another part of her, though, that knew they were so similar sometimes. Both passionate people, both locked away in their own towers - by his own doing, but still. If they had no obstacles between them, they could set the world on fire. What an even bigger tragedy that made all of this.

She pressed her lips to his in a sweet kiss, pulling away after a while to rest her forehead against his. “Do you have meetings tomorrow?”

A huff of a laugh before he shook his head. “No.”

“Good.” She brought her hand to his cheek, thumb stroking the skin there. Maybe, just this once, she could let herself enjoy him. She could let herself enjoy her marriage. “Then I’ll come to you tonight. We can lay like this. Just this. And we can…we can wake up in the morning together. We can hold each other and not be rushed to let go.” She smiled, biting her lower lip to try and contain the overwhelming excitement and nervous energy she suddenly felt. “How does that sound?”

For the first time in a long time, she thought she saw a sincere, happy smile cross Helios’ face. She’d forgotten how boyish he could look when he wasn’t so stoic or stressed. “I think the day will go by too slowly now.”

Grinning, she gave him one last, lingering kiss before she reluctantly parted with him, not missing how he seemed to gravitate toward her just a little, as if he didn’t wish to part either. She got off the bed, walking toward the large window, and feeling Helios’ eyes on her for every second of it. “Prepare yourself,” she said, turning back to him with a smile. He smiled that infectious smile back, turning to bury his face in the pillows so the light wouldn’t blind him. Finally, she pulled back the curtain, and sunlight poured into the bedroom. It was the brightest she could remember it being in a very long time.

[sweetdeathwrites]

You Are The Right One

Pairing: Gokudera Hayato/Reader

Summary: Gokudera knows what you mean to him. But what does he mean to you? 

Warnings: fluff, romance, some sexual situations/suggestiveness (i.e. Gokudera is thirsty), angst

Word Count: 6,929

(Songfic to You Are The Right One by Sports)

(re/cross?posted from my AO3 and Luna! Original A/N below)

(Hi!! I know I've been gone a long time and I'm SORRY!! I've been going through a lot of stuff (I've been in 3 productions since the last time I've posted .. i think it's only 3.. but I've been a NAMED character in 2 out of 3!! the third one doesn't count bc it was a bunch of skits and so strict plot... so i guess that means... i was a named character in BOTH of my productions?~ I just performed in Grease 2 days ago on friday as Jan, my twinkie girl!! I got to eat twinkies on stage!! It was v exciting and I had a blast! some people I know from the hawaii theatre came down to see me and one of my dad's movie friends and they loved me! one of them told my mom i'm going to broadway! haha!!! ^v^ isn't that sweet? I don't think so but that's a lovely hope, isn't it? I'd like to dedicate this fic to someone who means the world to me, the lovely GuardianAngel07! I love you so much and I know that you're going through a lot right now and I just want you to know I'm always here for you, no matter what, and I know that you are busy and have a lot on your mind, and I just want you to know I'm never mad if we don't talk for a while! I think you get a little worried and feel guilty when we don't talk, but that's not it at all! I care for you so much and if your mental health needs you to take a break, then TAKE that break, honey!!!1! I'm always here to support you and I want what's best for you, mentally, physically, and emotionally!! I care for you a whole lot, okay? I'm always in your corner!!! I'm sorry that this fic isn't what I originally planned to gift to you (the original was much sweeter!! and less angsty!!) but this was the one that was most finished and I figured that anything with our lovely KHR boys would help to cheer you up! I hope you like it!!,, Uhm.... I've also got a lot planned! I released a LONG hannibal fic on AO3 and it's not the best bc I started it 2 years ago.yikes... but I'm finally gonna write for it again after a year but I'm going to revamp it (at least fix the grammar!) before I release it here! It's v violent and prolly gonna get really sexual too, so there's a warning, but i'll warn again when I actually post it. to be truthful, I had this almost fully done for months. I just hated it and hated it and hated it. I've been hating my writing a lot recently which isn't good bc I want to finish a book before I graduate and I'm taking an AP english exam on the 16th, so it's awful timing. I haven't been doing the best but I'm looking forward to summer........ only 18 more days left before I'm free.... then I have summer then I'm a senior and ..yikes....;;; but I've got some summer plans! I'm going to cut and dye my hair (I just realized nothing is stopping me from getting a Guzma cut and dye... then I can dye my hair pink!! and any other color after!!!) and I'll visit a friend in alaska, then I'll get a job somewhere.......... i got no college fund........... sorry for dragging on and on!! uhhhh just expect more from me (hopefully soon..... @GuardianAngel07 i hope ur ready for more awful songfics from me.... because i've written some reeeeaaaaallll angsty and sad ones, already with u in mind!! why do you always get the worst of the bunch.......,,,) love u all! and please leave a review if u enjoyed this! I seriously would've stopped posting all together if it wasn't for some incredibly kind people (looking at you, GA07!!) and a recent review for my hannibal fic on AO3 (or rather, reviews. yes, this person left MULTIPLE. very detailed and heartfelt, and I was giddy for days after!! So if you want more, PLEASE leave a review!! it's not fun to post and feel like you're just yelling into a void!! yell back at me!)

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You were the right way I was just waiting for you to look at me Is there a wrong time? Baby, I’m guessing Just let me know He can never get a break, can he? Gokudera sighed, smoke curling past his lips into the chill autumn air. The leaves were just beginning to change color and he cursed how the light cast amber shadows over the smooth plane of your face, cursed how he couldn’t trace the honey light with his fingertips and kiss the darkness away. His tongue clicked against his teeth and he took another drag of his cigarette. Hayato tried to ignore you. He really did. But how can he, when you look as good as you do with a rose-pink blush that covers your cheeks and ears when someone cracks a joke that makes you laugh until you can barely catch your breath? How your jaw drops open in delight before you remember where you are and hide your smile with your hand– something he desperately hoped you would lose the habit of because, god, did you look pretty when you smiled– and blot away the joyful tears in your eyes? How could he not give you his complete, undivided attention when you were as sugar-sweet as you were? His jade eyes flickered back to you again, almost against his will. Your face was bright, eyes glinting in the soft light of the dying afternoon as you teased one of your friends, grinning widely as they swiped playfully at you in return. Gokudera groaned and his head slumped back against the pillar he was leaning against a little too quick, sending an unpleasant shock up his spine. “Shit,” he hissed, stomping out his cigarette on the concrete behind Namimori High and massaging the back of his skull gingerly. What a day. First, Tsuna and Yamamoto had nearly been killed on their way to school again; of course, Gokudera saved both of them, although Yamamoto he saved slightly more reluctantly. Gokudera was strong– of course he was, he wasn’t Tsuna’s right hand for nothing. He just wished he could prove to you that he was strong enough for you, too… Then, that bastard that patrolled the school like some kind of obsessive freak was on his back again. Something about being late for class. Reborn showed up and solved the matter rather quickly, but that didn’t keep Gokudera from steaming out the ears for another hour or so. But the worst part of the day? It was definitely you, without a doubt. You filled his head, turning his thoughts and coherency to cotton in his head and made his mouth as dry as summer. Summer… Gokudera remembered, during lunch period, that you had gone to the beach with him and his friends. You wore a red bathing suit. Red as the fireworks at the summer festival, where he almost told you his feelings but panicked at the last second– but that was a story for another time–and, at one point, clung to his arm to whine about how hot the sun was, and how you were definitely going to get a sunburn. When Gokudera grumbled something back to you about reapplying sunscreen you had winked at him, grinning wide and asking if he wanted to help you with that. By then, there was no doubt in his mind that his milky skin was as red as your bathing suit. From his blushing, dazed haze, you managed to squeeze a frozen lemonade and a plain vanilla ice cream out of him and his wallet. “Share?” you gently cocked your head to one side and held out the icy drink for Gokudera to taste. His mouth was incredibly dry, as it always seemed to be around you– damn you, and damn him for being so weak for you– and he hesitated. You sipped your lemonade languidly and blinked up at him, heavy eyelashes fluttering and all doe-eyed, and his chest clenched in such a way that it brought him agony and ecstasy in equal measure. “Hm?” you hummed, waiting for an answer. He opened his mouth to deny your offer when a heavy stream of melted ice cream rolled down the side of the cone and over your hand. A surprised yelp and a curse left your throat as you hurried to clean the treat off of the cone. When you switched the cone to your other hand to lick the drops of vanilla from your palm, Gokudera’s brain snapped back to being fully functional and he hurriedly agreed to sharing with you. As you complained once again about the heat and the lack of more interesting ice cream flavors at the snack bar, Gokudera thought of how silly he was being for thinking of sharing the ice cream as an indirect kiss– an indirect tongue kiss, more accurately. But more honestly, it was more like the two of you just swapped spit–but that’s not a very pleasant thing to think of, no matter how much he liked you. He wasn’t in middle school anymore; he shouldn’t be so swayed by this! He shouldn’t feel so hot and his heart shouldn’t be beating so fast. A cool ocean breeze swept your hair away from your face as you shook ice chunks in your frozen lemonade, loosening them enough to drink. Gokudera turned his gaze to the clear blue sea, his friends wading in it, and the lazy scrawl of puffy white clouds across the sky and he wondered if he could gather the courage to ask for a sip of the lemonade, too. If he was only going to get an indirect kiss, he wanted a proper one. Slowly coming out of his reverie, Gokudera realized he had been looking at you the whole time. The shade that Namimori cast over him wasn’t enough to cool his embarrassed blush and he hoped you hadn’t noticed. Gokudera nearly jumped out of his skin when something in his pocket buzzed. He fished out his phone– obviously, of course it was his phone. He must be more tired than he thought, to be startled by his own phone. [Baseball Freak] whatcha lookin at? Snapping his head up, Gokudera scanned his surroundings, looking for any sign of Yamamoto. God, how embarrassing to be caught staring at his crush by the person most likely to tease him about it… [Baseball Freak] up here Yamamoto was leaning out of one of the windows of a classroom far above Gokudera’s head, waving at him without a care in the world. It was then that Gokudera remembered why he was waiting outside at all, staring at you so wistfully– Tsuna and Takeshi had to attend an after school remedial session for their poor grades… No matter how many tutoring sessions they both received from Reborn and Hayato and a variety of other eccentric characters that always seemed to appear out of nowhere, they still couldn’t retain anything they learned… especially not math. Shaking his head angrily, the silver haired boy punched out a response to him but his phone buzzed again before he could send it. [Baseball Freak] see something over there u like? I think u do~~~ aren’t they just sooo cute?? >///7///<   Gokudera bit his tongue. How dare Yamamoto say that about you?! It was true, he had to admit, but his pride was hurt from being so easily caught, heart read with such dead-on accuracy that he responded the only way he knew how to. [Me] PISS OFF A rich laugh filled the air above him and only served to spur Gokudera on, cracking his knuckles, clenching his jaw, and wishing he could beat Takeshi into taking what he said back. [Baseball Freak] u know, if u don’t make a move, someone else will………….they’re so pretty and smart and nice!! who wouldn’t want to date them?~ Gokudera’s rage calmed, eerily still. He knew that someone would make a move on you if he didn’t soon. He didn’t miss the way that the boys in the class would offer to carry your bags and would do anything to get just a little closer to you to sling their arms around your shoulders, pretending to show you something in a book, and to breathe in your light perfume. Or the way that girls would bite their lips and giggle when you told a joke and how they would bat their eyelashes and tease you and play with your hair just a little too much for it to be considered strictly friendly. Hayato knew he wasn’t the only person looking to add you to his dating pool and he also knew he wasn’t the best candidate to win your heart. It was a subject that often haunted his brain late at night, a miasma of doubt and self-hatred that cut deep into his heart when no one was there to see him cry. He was too loud, too violent, and too crude for someone like you to fall for. Too dangerous. It didn’t help that Yamamoto was the polar opposite of him– warm, friendly, and kind enough to be anyone’s dream man. And it definitely didn’t help that Yamamoto often wrapped his arm around your shoulders and brought you into his chest when there was nothing else for him to do with his hands. That happened often and made Gokudera more broken hearted than he would ever admit. [Baseball Freak] so? r u gonna say anything to them???? Gokudera had his heart set on you but his brain told him, quite logically, that you would never like someone like him back. Whoever said that it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all was a damn fool. [Me] mind ur business. Up above, there was a sigh loud enough for Gokudera to hear and he knew instantly that he had made the wrong move. He looked up just in time to hear Yamamoto call your name in a sing-songy voice, to see him through weak, orange sun rays, waving cheerfully at you. Gokudera snapped his gaze to you to see your hair bounce with each cute head turn as you looked for the source of the voice. Yamamoto called your name again and Gokudera registered that not only had he used your first name but he added a “-chan” to the end of it– what a double-crossing bastard! You found him and Hayato’s lungs felt tight, but not as a result of his chain-smoking. Your face lit up–your pretty, beautiful, drop-dead gorgeous face– and you yelled back a greeting and swung your arms around wildly back at Takeshi, heels lifting off the ground in delight with your ministrations. Hayato’s gaze flickered back up to Takeshi just in time to see the brunet pointing down at him vigorously. Your sight followed Takeshi’s direction and you locked gazes with Hayato. His breath caught somewhere between his throat and chest and his heart pounded against his ribcage, furiously trying to escape this terribly humiliating situation. Just let me know As soon as you saw him, your eyes widened slightly and you gave him an embarrassed, genuine smile as you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. It was strange; he didn’t think that you had anything to be embarrassed about. You were deathly adorable when excited, even if it was because you were excited to see that baseball idiot. He hoped to whatever higher being that was out there– and he knew something was out there: aliens, at least– that he hadn’t imagined that sweet, pink blush that dusted your cheeks and ears and ran down your neck. He was smiling back at you, equally as shyly, before he knew it. Well, it’s been a long time Since you’ve been lonely So what will I do? You are the right one And I’m just a boy who Is looking at you “Hey, Hayato?” you called. His spine straightened, vertebra by vertebra, at the sound of your voice. You had used his first name– sure, you had been doing it for a while, but still every time you called him so endearingly, it sent hot, smoky electricity up his spine. The way the bed sheets creased under your small body and lazy afternoon sunlight dappled your visage had his head reeling. There you were, lounging and at peace with the world, in his apartment, in his bed. “What?” He didn’t mean to sound so brusque– but then again, he doesn’t mean many of the things he says with his angry disposition. Especially to you. “Why do you turn down everyone that confesses to you? Don’t you want to… well… I don’t know, fool around with someone? I mean, we’re in highschool, this is supposed to be the most reckless time of our lives, right? Why not live a little?” Your head tilted to the side, hair falling into your eyes. His fingers itched to brush it out of your face and your own fingers played with something on your phone. Probably texting, some faceless guy or girl, flirting, playing coy and– “Hayato?” He shivered, loving how his name sounded on your soft lips. “I don’t know, idiot. I’m mean, but not mean enough to do something like that to some kid stupid enough to think they like me.” He settles for brushing his own hair out of his face. You turn over on your stomach, “I guess…” Something about your tone when you say that makes Gokudera narrow his eyes in suspicion. Did something happen to you to make you upset? Why were you bringing up this topic now? Why were you bringing it up to him? “I just think it’s a waste, y’know?” you ran a hand through your hair and locked your phone, placing it to the side. Your eyes slid closed and Hayato realized how close your head was to his lap, how easily he could pet your hair and have you doze off in his embrace. You looked sleepy enough anyway– would a little nap hurt the both of you? “Hayato, don’t you know how handsome you are?” you mumbled dreamily. “You could get anyone you want, anyone, and you chose to sit here and do nothing. Why?” Hayato couldn’t think. His head was full of steel wool and his blood thrummed loudly through him. You called him handsome. You called him handsome. When his breath came back to him in a barely noticeable gasp, he couldn’t filter the words that tumbled out of his mouth. “I can’t.” “What?” your eyes slowly opened and you leaned up on an elbow, looking quizzically up at him. “I can’t get anyone I want.” “Why not?” His lungs filled shallowly and he turned his face away from you, focusing on the empty street below, through his room’s window. The sun cast golden light and deep, lavender shadows across the world and Hayato knew that if he looked at you right now, everything would go to shit. He’d see your face; all the perfections and beautiful flaws and you would see through him as if he were glass blown, see how desperate he was for you and how his insides were twisting and trembling in fear and reverence, in equal measure, of your power over him. You would recoil, disgust drawn over your lovely face in terribly sharp lines and you would see how his heart would break over and over again. “Sometimes you just can’t.” Your lips curled into a frown and his brows furrowed; he could tell that much by your silence. Unsatisfied with his answer, you huffed and threw yourself back down on the bed, the crown of your head knocking against his thigh. Your hair splayed out around your face, angelic, and Hayato was lucky that your eyes had once again shut to accept the call of the dream world, because if they hadn’t, you would’ve seen how absolutely helpless he looked, gazing at you. So what will I do? His tongue darted out to smooth over his dry lower lip and he felt the faint sting of the thin skin there– cracked. He tasted iron and swallowed thickly. Gokudera wished he was closer to you, so much closer to you than he was, but he was doubtful his heart would be able to handle that. Your breathing started to slow and Hayato found his hand smoothing over your soft hair and you jolted violently, startling the both of you. You stared up at him, eyes full of stars and planets far away, and he laughed airily. He shook his head, silently telling you, No, don’t wake up just yet, everything’s fine. You accepted this without question and closed your eyes again. This time, Hayato gently slid his hands under your head and guided you towards his lap. He arranged himself comfortably on an array of flattened pillows and stroked your hair as you lay, safe and happy in his lap. A single eye peeked at him– slyly, cat-like– before you hummed and shifted closer to him. A contented sigh slipped through Hayato’s lips and he himself started to feel drowsy. In his dreamy stupor, his hand trailed down your face, down your neck, and down, down your arm until he had your fingers gently entwined with his. Sure, it may have just been an unconscious reaction, but the way your hand squeezed his back made his dreams lovely and surreal and hallucinatory, in all the best ways. I tried the wrong way I was guessing Biding my time You are the only One I can picture By my side “Gokudera, what’s up?” Takeshi nodded at the silver-haired bomber as he approached, strangely insightful today with his clear, milk chocolate eyes. The boy in question merely grumbled vaguely, hands shoved deep in his pockets, as if he was fishing for the answer to Yamamoto’s question down there as well. “That bad, huh?” Gokudera rolled his eyes. It wasn’t rare for him and Yamamoto to arrive at Tsuna’s house before the young mafia boss could flee from it, already anxious and sweaty. Today was no different. “Hey, at least you tried, right?” Yamamoto offered a weak smile, knowing how much you meant to Gokudera. His shoulders were hiked up to his ears and Takeshi didn't miss how the hot, red ring on Gokudera’s cigarette quickly crawled down to the filter before he was tapping out another from his near-empty box and sucking on the new cigarette, lighting it with the dying butt of the used one. He tossed the old one down and ground it into the asphalt. Takeshi frowned. The baseball star shifted the bag on his shoulder uncomfortably, his bats for after school practice clinking metallically. “ … I didn't.” Gokudera kept his gaze locked on a lamp post down the block. Takeshi blinked, not expecting a response from Gokudera’s sunken frame. “What?” “I didn't try.” It took Takeshi a moment to understand what Gokudera meant before grimacing with a little more than a dash of friendly pity in his eyes. He shifted his weight from his hip, seeking to comfort Gokudera, but decided against it at the last moment. “Why?” his voice came out in a gentle rasp. Gokudera still refused to look at him, green eyes clouded and trained on a particularly colorful poster on that singular lamp post. Seconds ticked by before Hayato groaned and dragged a hand down his face, pinching his cigarette in frustration with his other hand. “I can’t! I just can’t. I know they don’t feel the same and I know I’ll break if they have to say it to my face. I can’t handle that. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to handle that. God, Yamamoto, I just can’t take that chance.” Being around them is– it’s just too much and too little for me to take– I’m going crazy here, driving myself in circles and spinning out, spinning my goddamn wheels because of them. It’s fuckin’ sickening but I don’t want a cure. I feel so helpless and I hate it, I never want to feel this way again. What the hell did I do to deserve this?” Gokudera’s eyes snapped shut, face contorted in agony. “I can’t tell them. I can’t. I want them to be happy. It’s better this way anyway. I’m not good enough.” Gokudera’s voice cracked on his last word before his declaration faded into the morning’s stillness. Yamamoto was insulted– his best friend talking about himself this way? Not in a million years, if he had any say in it– but Gokudera snapped at him before he could get a word in. “And don’t say shit about me being good enough, because we both know I’m not good enough for them. I’ll never be good enough, Yamamoto, that’s not me. I wouldn’t be able to hold them as much as I should, to kiss their gorgeous fucking face– I wouldn’t be able to be fucking honest, Takeshi. They deserve more than the bullshit excuses I’d spew to cover our fucking asses when we get the crap kicked out of us on a bi-weekly basis. They don’t deserve that.” Silence weighed like velvet over the two of them and the sun was now calling out songbirds, sleepy murmurs from the neighborhood beginning to wake from the heavy slumber of the night. Yamamoto didn’t know what to say anymore and Gokudera put the cigarette back where it belonged: between his lips, funneling poison straight to his lungs. “ … I don’t think it’s like that, Hayato. You’re being too harsh on yourself. I really don’t think they feel that way about you.” Hayato said nothing and kept his eyes glued to that single poster again. Yamamoto reached out and awkwardly patted his shoulder, mustering as much comfort as he could before he knew he would overstay his welcome. Hayato needed time to clear his head. “ … I’ll go inside to check up on Tsuna. Come inside soon, alright?” The response that didn’t meet him was enough to know Gokudera wouldn’t get better as quick as that. Takeshi sighed in sorrowful compassion before slowly making his way to Tsuna’s front door, carefully piecing together his cheerful mask yet again. The door shut quietly, and voices and vague, worrisome sounds came from within. Gokudera raised his hand to scrub furiously at his misty eyes, his bracelets clinking together and rings scraping his face and leaving thin, red lines around his eyes. He leaned back against the wall around his best friend’s house and his head banged against the concrete, painful and painfully familiar to something that had happened recently, involving you. “Fuck,” he hissed into the empty street. Class was boring, as it always was. There was nothing that could entertain him that was in Namimori’s curriculum. Tsuna managed to convince Gokudera to take college classes too, so that his development wouldn’t stall (and also because Gokudera being bored meant a bit more trouble for Tsuna, but he was genuinely concerned about Gokudera’s personal growth). But even those classes were much too easy for him. Something that wasn’t easy? Seeing you every damn day and not being able to do a thing about it. Getting closer, getting further, cutting you off completely– he couldn’t bring himself to do any of those. Gokudera tapped the eraser end of his pencil against his desk and sighed, staring out the classroom window into the clear blue sky. He couldn’t wait for summer again but, boy, did he like seeing you all bundled up in wool and cashmere and simply drowning in soft fabrics and cozy patterns. You were so cute with your nose red from the cold, lips burning pink from being bitten so much– he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, no, he would take this to his grave– but what he wouldn’t give to be the one to bite your lips instead, to hear you whimper and moan, just for him, and– A small collision with the side of his head brought him out of his daydreams. Curious and annoyed, Hayato brought a hand up to his hair and picked out a crumpled wad of paper. Who the hell had the balls to throw shit at him? He was still the scariest guy in Namimori (and no, Hibari doesn’t count, either). If anything, he should be terrorizing the rest of the class. Taking a less than subtle glance around the room, he caught your eyes staring at him eagerly. Taking a moment to compose himself, he averted his gaze to your note instead. Of course it was you that threw it at him. Who else? Wanna go to a bakery after school? Kyoko-chan was talking about it earlier and I can’t get it out of my head… I’ll pay if u want!! I want cake~~~ Hayato didn’t hold back the happy grin that spread over his face, sparing a glance at you, impatiently waiting for his reply, before scribbling something in his mostly neat penmanship under your barely legible chicken scratch. No need to pay. But yeah, that sounds p cool. Meet me right after school at the front gates? The teacher still had his back turned to the class, writing something that Gokudera already knew on the blackboard, droning on and on about logs and bases and inverses and irrational numbers or something equally useless. He knocked his hand back and threw from the shoulder, the small, now neatly folded note landing in the middle of your desk. You snatched it up quickly, hiding it just in time for the teacher to turn around and call on one of your classmates to answer a question. Gokudera couldn’t see you unfold the note but your arms were moving under the desk and you grabbed a pencil off the desk too. Gokudera remembered that pencil; it was thin, cute, and pink– with a brown bear on top. The bear held a red heart and its nose was in the same cute shape. There were patterns of hearts and stars in red and yellow and white, and Gokudera knew all of this because Kyoko had helped him pick it out to give it to you for your birthday. He thought giving you a gift with so many hearts was a bit forward– tactless, even– but Kyoko gave him a stern look and told him that nothing he could do would be forward enough when it came to you and, spluttering and flushed, he tried to deny his affections for you but only ended up confessing how he felt about you to Kyoko. Smiling gently like the angel she is, Kyoko let him talk her ear off about you for nearly an hour and a half. She earned a milkshake and a slice of strawberry cake for her bravery. You spun in your chair, clutching the edge of it in your small hand, and flicked the paper back to him. The message was a little more timid, he noticed. actually, can we meet on the roof after school?.. I have something I want to talk to u about, but it shouldn’t take long… We can go straight to the bakery if u don’t want to, tho!!!!! ^v^;; Gokudera recognized how you were trying to hide something from him with your overwhelming facade of consideration. Whenever you felt insecure about something, you always spent time making sure other people felt more comfortable and happy than you were, as if that would make you feel better yourself. A frown carried over his pale face and when he looked up, you were staring at him again. This time, you seemed to have carefully examined his face and your brows were furrowed. As soon as you met his eyes, you jumped, shaking your head and waving your hands to tell him, Don’t mind me, it’s nothing. Gokudera was just about to pen down a reply when the teacher turned around again and began talking to the class, not looking like he was going to turn his back on Gokudera any time soon. Hayato caught your eyes with his green ones and nodded quickly, mouthing ‘I’ll be there.’ Lunch was as it normally was. That is, filled with shouts and explosions and general chaos. However, this lunch period was noisier than it previously had been; a fact that only would have been noticed by the people present if they paid very careful attention to their volume. Gokudera noticed. Damn right, he noticed. Sure, you usually sat next to Takeshi. Sure, you had a habit of clinging to him as you laughed and whispering in his ear. And sure, sometimes you would call him Take-chan as you fed him bits of your own bentou– a fact that pissed Gokudera off endlessly. But what was different? Today you were nestled in Yamamoto’s side, tucked neatly away under his arm which alternated from wrapping around your shoulders to hold you to him and pulling you in by your waist to bring you nearly onto his lap. It stung Gokudera something awful. Watching the two of you laugh and whisper to each other felt like you had run Hayato’s heart over shrapnel and soothed his wounds with lemon and salt. He averted his jealous, but startlingly gentle gaze from you to the sky above you, willing tears not to come and cursing himself for feeling this way about you. “Hey, Take-chan!” You tugged on his shirt, the fabric over his chest, to bring his attention back to you. “Hmm?” You stole a glance at Gokudera and whispered giddily into Yamamoto’s ear. When you’re finished, Yamamoto made a sound that can only be described as pure elation, and he tugged you in even closer, tickling you in the process. You laughed and shrieked at him to stop and he only did so when you’re nearly in tears. Tsuna is having a muted conversation with Gokudera and he is trying to pay attention– honest– Gokudera is trying so goddamn hard, but it’s next to impossible when a grass-green snake hisses low in his belly over you writhing and laughing so happily in Takeshi’s lap. Yamamoto whispered hotly back into your ear and Gokudera sees something he wished he would never see from the two of you: you, with a hot blush crawling up your neck and Takeshi with his face practically in the crook of it, grinning all pearly white and eyes staring at you with such fucking dedicated tunnel vision. Gokudera wasn’t hungry anymore. Lunch ended and you gave Yamamoto one last quick hug before cleaning up your trash and putting everything away that you wanted to keep. Gokudera was slower than normal, taking all the time in the world and then some to get ready for class again. The door to the roof clanged shut and Gokudera let out a heavy sigh, eyes closed and trying to feel everything that he could– everything except his feelings, that is. He relished the cool breath of wind that blew against his face, tossing his hair around and whistling softly to him. He took account of the ground beneath him, hard and sturdy, and the sounds of teenagers filtering back into the school, complaining about their classes and each other. The one thing he didn’t hear–not until it was too late– was you. “Hayato?” you tugged on the back of his shirt, scaring him witless. He yelped like a kicked puppy and spun around to face you, composure long lost. He tried to say something but nothing left his lips; nothing coherent, at least. The hand that grasped his shirt didn’t cease touching him. It got even closer than before as you took a step, and then another, into his personal space. The height difference between you was just too much for him to handle and Gokudera felt himself simultaneously trying to pale and flush, unsure which won over in the end. Your hand slid along his waist, his side, and up his chest lightly. The smile that took root on your face was weak and bashful, even– and you bumped your forehead on his chest before you looked back up at him, an emotion he didn’t recognize dancing in your eyes. “Don’t forget, we’re meeting here after school, Hayato. You wouldn’t want to keep me waiting, would you?” Your finger tapped his chest teasingly, adding another beat to his pulse and he felt fire crawl up the base of spine at your nail scraping through his shirt. You blinked curiously up at him and his voice whispered to you, hoarse and against his will, “No, I wouldn’t.” Satisfied with that, you made sure that he had everything he had brought up to the roof with him, promptly forced him to offer his elbow to you, and curled yourself happily over his arm before leading the both of you down the stairs to finish the rest of the day’s lessons. The roof was empty except for Gokudera. As soon as school was over, he bid Tsuna and Yamamoto goodbye, telling them not to wait up for him. Yamamoto had a big, stupid grin on his face– But when does he not? Gokudera rationalized. There was something about that smile that showed that he knew more than he let on but Gokudera was much too preoccupied with thoughts of you to care. He leaned against the rails, not trusting it to hold him, careful not to put too much weight on it. He took a steadying breath. Breathe. It’s fine. Nothing’s wrong. But no matter what he told himself to stop the rapid, staccato drumming in his chest, his anxieties were not relieved in the slightest. He was afraid– god, how he was afraid. What did you want to talk to him about? Did you not want to be friends anymore? Did you grow tired of him? Did… Did you want to tell him you were dating Takeshi? “Hayato?” oh fuck Gokudera jumped. The amount of times you scared him witless was embarrassingly high. “Hey.” You smiled slightly. “Hey.” Something about you was different. Something was… off. The way your eyes drifted from him every other second before coming back to his concerned gaze was unusual, but even more unusual was the way your hands fidgeted behind your back. “So,” Hayato tried to get the words to come out. The light breeze that tossed your hair around your face in a halo didn’t help much, but he appreciated it anyway. “What’d you wanna talk about? I’m hungry as fuck.” It slipped out– Hayato’s cursing habit hijacked his mouth, nerves making him go on autopilot. At least you took it well; your eyes glinted in amusement and some of the tension between the two of you dissipated. A pink tongue darted out to soothe your dry lips and Hayato was a little too aware of it. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something for a while, but I just didn’t know how to tell you– it’s a bit… embarrassing, so don’t make fun of me, okay?” Your mouth was set in a firm line, eyes pleading and vulnerable. “Sure.” That wasn’t the reply you wanted but it was what it was. By my side “I…” you began, then lost the words you had planned. “You?..” Gokudera offered. He wasn’t sure he was ready for what you wanted to tell him or what it entailed, but he was sure that if it meant your happiness, he would do anything at all to keep you smiling. “It’s just that… You know, I–” you fumble over your words, frustration visible on your face. Gokudera scolded himself for thinking of you in this way when you so clearly don’t want him but he can’t help it. He’s worried over your affect on him before, but he never considered how weak he is to you or how strong your natural beauty is under the glow of a late afternoon and the crinkle of your brow with your courageous efforts… courageous efforts that you try to spell out but they fail, perched above your tongue. Your soft hands come down in frustration upon the hem of your shirt and you try again, slip again, and Gokudera is privy to the realization that this isn’t something he should take lightly any longer, no matter how much it calms his nerves or keeps him from facing the possible reality of him losing you. He leans forward to grasp your hands from distressing your shirt, to keep you from distressing yourself, with full knowledge that this moment could be the end of you allowing him to be graced with your presence. Hayato decided that your momentary comfort before unleashing hell on him was worth more than a thousand lifetimes of you by his side in the masquerade mask of lukewarm passion if you backed down from rejecting him now. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” And he touched you and nearly recoiled when your face whipped up to meet his, nearly let go of you because your skin was hot as forged iron and nearly as red. He tried to let go but you wouldn’t stand for it, as you used his hands over your shoulders as leverage to place your palms, clammy and shaking, over his smooth cheekbones and bring his face down to yours. Hayato’s eyes were wide as he met your lips, glossed and smooth and clearly prepped for this specific moment, specific kiss, specifically with him and he could have withered away in embarrassment of his rough mouth and nicotine lungs if it weren’t for how warm you were against him and how securely you held him, despite how insecure you had been seconds prior. Gokudera barely has the brains left to close his eyes on the skyline of Namimori but when he does he sees stars and he kisses you back and there’s a scrape of his teeth against your bottom lip and you shiver and he groans into you and now he’s just as red, if not redder, than you are. A slick noise of separation, then the both of you don’t know how to deal with the awkward intimacy of it, or what to do with your hands, but Hayato managed to gather enough sense– or maybe he’s running on what he’s fantasized on doing after your first kiss together and is on a daydream-guided autopilot– and he brings you into a tight hug and buried his head into your wild hair. You laugh into his chest and when he tried to bring you out to ask you why, you clung to his wrinkled white shirt even more and blindly found his hands, tangled with his bracelets and rings, then laced your fingers soundly with his. Gokudera can hardly believe the kiss happened, can believe he’s still alive even less, but he’s sure you can hear the quickened palpitations of his heart and that notion does no good for his health either. You’re an absolute dream and Gokudera is ready and happy to die right there, but you pull away from him, hands still interwoven, and smile so beautifully that he is sure that angels exist and you’re the vision of seraphim, disguised as human so barely that if you were anymore angelic he would surely fall dead where he stood, kiss-dizzy and sweetly dazed. From his dazed mouth, stupidity falls out. “So what was it that you had to tell me?” You laugh and press a kiss– more confidently this time– to his collarbone. At his affirmative, stuttered, elated hum, you press another and another, up his neck and jawline and chin until you reach his lips again and he kisses you back with adoration and love and his still evolving understanding of your feelings for him. “I’m not sure how to say it any clearer,” you said with a laugh that rang like the church bells that sounded in Gokudera’s head as clearly as he imaged they would on your wedding day, as he pressed his own kisses all over your face and held you close with the intention of treasuring you as long as he had a pulse and then some. “Hayato, I really, really like you.” And that was the day that Gokudera Hayato had come to face the reality, one that he had long accepted, that he loved you more than anything and you felt the same, but most importantly, that you were the right one for him. And that he was the right one for you.

[great-master-airplane]

If your still accepting the prompts 23 and 39 for Reaper76

I really wanted to write some fluff for these two because everything always comes out so angsty, so I hope this is okay! Thank you!

23. “Tell me what you did. Please, I can help if you just tell me.”

39. “It is so difficult to love you, but it is so worth it.”

Jack woke to the feel ofstrong arms and thighs wrapping around him. He sighed contentedly, the slide ofskin on skin sending a pleasant shiver down his spine. Completely pinned by thewelcoming weight of heavy limbs, all he could do was settle closer, his nosetucked right under his partner’s chin.

For all intents andpurposes, it was Jack’s day off. He had a meeting to attend around ten, but therest of the day could be spent as he pleased. It had been so long since hislast day off, he’d almost forgotten what it was like to have time to himself.His plans were to go to the meeting, come back to his room, and spend the restof the day tangled up in bedsheets and his boyfriend.

And Jack—well, he needed this. Usually, his job as StrikeCommander didn’t bother him. He liked fighting to keep the peace they’d workedso hard to get, but it could all become a little… much after some time. He needed to recharge, just relax and let theease of laziness weigh him down until the job didn’t overwhelm him anymore.

And if he and Gabrielmanaged to have the same day off, then Jack got to recharge in more ways thanone.

Jack pressed a long, sweetkiss to Gabriel’s throat, still sated and heavy with sleep. He knew he shouldsee how much time he had until he needed to leave the comfort of their bed, buthe didn’t think he’d be able to move at all, with the way Gabe pinned him.Gabriel was already built like a tank, but asleep? He might as well be all deadweight.

Not that Jack minded much.He liked the way Gabriel felt, all heavy limbs and soft noises. Jack settleback in, ready to sleep until his alarm sounded.

“Jack,” Gabe murmuredquietly, almost tentatively. Jack stiffened at the sound; Gabe sounded afraidin a way that Jack hadn’t heard in a long time. He tried to sit up, get a goodlook at his face, but Gabriel held him down as easily as if Jack were a child.“Jack, I did something bad.”

“What is it?” When Gabesaid nothing, Jack kissed his neck again, trying to ease him. “Tell me what you did.”

“You’re not gonna be happyabout it,” Gabriel muttered, lifting his chin a bit to give Jack more space.Smiling a little, Jack took the bait, moving his mouth along the dark expanseof Gabriel’s throat until Gabe shivered.

“Please, I can help if you just tell me,” Jack continued to reason,finally able to lean his head back and see Gabe’s face. He saw guilt butnothing that might cause too much worry. He leaned up to kiss Gabe’s mouth,slide his tongue along Gabe’s lip until he opened up. Jack leaned against himfor leverage, chasing the stale taste of sleep on his tongue and pulling backwhen Gabriel pushed into him. “Please, Gabe. Tell me what you did.”

Gabe huffed, his headflopping back to land on the pillow. “Remember the meeting today? The onlything you have to do on your day off?”

“Yes?” Jack confirmedslowly, already having a bad feeling about this.

“Well, your alarm went offa few hours ago,” Gabe mumbled, quiet with shame.

Jack sat up a bit, eyeswidening slowly. “What?”

“Yeah.” Gabe reached ahand up to rub at the back of his neck. “You didn’t wake up, so I just turnedit off.”

“Gabriel! A few hoursago?!” Jack began to disentangle himself from the trap of blanket andboyfriend. He reached over for his phone to confirm that yes, his alarm hadgone off roughly three hours ago, and yes, Gabriel had just turned it off. “Why didn’t you wake meup?”

Gabriel didn’t give him ananswer, just stared up at their ceiling like it was the most interesting thinghe’d ever seen. With a groan of frustration, Jack stumbled out of the bed andbegan looking for his clothes. Those seemed to be missing, though, so he turnedan accusatory stare onto Gabriel again.

“Where’s my uniform?”

“You really think I wasworried about where I was throwing your uniform? I had other things on my mindlast night.” Gabriel’s dark eyes bore into his, a challenging eyebrow raised.As if asking, Why weren’t you paying attention? It’s your damn uniform,Jackie.

“I told you I needed itfor this morning.”

Scoffing, Gabe glared backup at the ceiling. “It’s your damn day off! You deserve a break every now andthen, too. Why are they making you go to some dumb as fuck meeting, anyway?They’ll probably just tell you all of the same shit they did at the lastmeeting.”

“I’m Strike Commander,Gabriel!” Jack began to deflate some. He couldn’t really blame Gabriel whenthey’d hardly had any time together lately. With a sigh, he crossed back overto the bed and sat down, reaching over to take Gabe’s hand. “I don’t get thesame luxuries that everyone else does. You already know that.”

Gabe pulled his hand away.“Your uniform’s in the bathroom. Better go make an appearance before you get introuble, pretty boy.”

“Keep calling a mansomething like that, and he could get an ego.”

“You already have an ego.No stopping it now.” Gabe shrugged a little, but Jack saw his sad, good-naturedsmile and knew he wasn’t really mad. He lifted a hand and waved it at Jack,trying to shoo him away. “Go on, get out of here. Go make the world a betterplace. I’ll still be here when you get back.”

The resignation inGabriel’s voice clenched around Jack’s heart. He checked his phone again. Two hourslate for the meeting. He’d already have to hear hell about being late… Hesmiled a little, tossing his phone back down onto the beside table. Gabrieldidn’t look at him, pretending to be less bothered by this whole thing than heactually was.

When Jack fell back ontothe bed, Gabriel did look. He sat up,an eyebrow raised at Jack, who shrugged. He tried not to grin at Gabe’sdumbfounded stare but failed completely.

“I figure if I’m alreadylate, what’s the point in going?” Jack scooted over until he could wrap himselfaround Gabe again, fingertips digging into hard muscle as he dragged Gabriel’sarms around him again. “Besides, it’s my day off.”

Gabriel laughed, shakinghis head in disbelief. He rolled on top of Jack, caging him between strong armsand thighs, and Jack couldn’t think of a place he’d rather be. “You’re a painin my ass, you know that?”

“Usually, you’re a pain inmine.” Jack wiggled his eyebrowssuggestively.

Gabe shook his head, sighingin disappointment and disbelief. “It is so difficult to love you.”

Jack grinned and slid hishand around the back of Gabriel’s neck, urging him down for a kiss. “Yeah?There better be a but after that,Reyes.”

Gabriel kissed him, softly,tenderly, the way men of blood and war didn’t kiss. He kissed him slowly, as ifthey had all the time in the world and not just this day. He kissed him sosenseless that Jack couldn’t even think to be embarrassed when Gabe encourageda moan from his throat. All he could think was how he wanted more. Everything Gabriel had to offer him, and he’d give everything backin return.

He really didn’t need tohear it when Gabe pulled back to give him the but he’d demanded. Already, Jack was pulling him back in for anotherkiss, but he still got to taste those words as they left Gabriel’s tongue in anardent whisper.

“But it is so worth it.”

Six words never tastedsweeter. 

[endless-vall]

Wedding day - Liam x Mc fanfic

Summary: The events of Liam’s proposal and his (finally) wedding day with MC. Author’s note: I’ve noticed my Liam x MC’s fanfics are always from MC’s POV or revolves around her, and wanted to go for something a bit different this time. This fanfic’s from Liam’s POV. I also just wanted to write some fluff for them, since my last fanfic of them was a bit angsty.

After figuring everything out, and finally finding Tariq, who confessed to the media that nothing was Amber’s fault, Amber’s name is finally cleared and Liam is finally free out of his engagement with Madeleine. It turns out Adelaide had made a deal with his father, one that they succeeded in uncovering, without getting the blame on his father. Now, Liam was to choose another bride, and he knew exactly who he wanted.

He stood before the door to her room. For the first time in a while, actually hesitating. They did everything they could to reach this moment, but what if Amber realized she didn’t want it anymore? She did say she didn’t want to be the other woman, and while she didn’t have to be anymore, he did put her in that position for a while. What if Amber was so focused on clearing her name, she stayed and fought only for that, and not for Liam? He shook those thoughts out his mind, remembering their night in the opera. "I just hope that in the end, the good parts are nough to make the hardships worth it for you." "Liam... They already are. /You/ already are. I wouldn't trade the time I've spent with you for anything." Amber asuured. "Even the bad parts?" He can't help but ask. With Amber, he can really be honest, and show his vulnerabilities. "The parts with you are never bad." She tells him, simply. With a sweet smile across her lips. It almost makes Liam tear up. He doesn't know how she can stay so optimistic through times like this, after everything she's been through since she got to court. She wasn’t naive. She knew damn well to face her enemies, and conducted an investigation on the person that set her up. But when it was just them, Amber and Liam, it really did still feel like a fairytail love story. But maybe it was just her magic. Maybe this was part of why Liam fell in love with her in the first place. After remembering how sure Amber always made he feel, he knocked on the door. All it took was a knock, and the door opened before him. In a matter of seconds, the door closed behind him and they were in each other’s arms. “Liam...” Amber said after a few long moments. “Amber...” He said her name like a prayer, before taking her face in his hands, and pulling her into a kiss. They dwell on the moment, kissing each other passionately, clinging closer against each other. Somehow the taste of Amber’s lips was never sweeter than in that moment. After a while, they break apart, both gasping for air. Flushed, their faces still inches apart, Liam takes a box ring out of his pocket. “I’ll probably have to do it the official way, in front of the court, but I can’t wait any longer...” He drops to one knee. Amber gasps in awe as he reveals the engagement ring. It wasn’t the same he gave Madeleine, obviously. Amber got the real ring. The beautiful, light blue diamond sparkled in the dim light of her room, as she nodded and Liam slipped the ring over her finger. “I love you so much...” Amber actually tears up as she says that, and Liam can see the sincerity in her words. That night, they share, it’s the first time Amber really breaks apart. Tangled up in his arms, Liam holds her. He cries with her, but not from sorrow, from happiness, relief, and his strong feelings for her. They recreate the proposal in front of the rest of the court a couple of days later. “Lady Amber Rivers of house Beaumont, will you marry me?” Liam asks, holding the same ring in front of her. Amber beams just like the first time. “Yes.” They skip the engagement tour, neither able to wait any longer. But Liam assures her she’d get the best post-wedding tour. Maybe even make it a honeymoon tour. Amber jokes they’ll never leave their hotel rooms in their honeymoon, making Liam blush furiously. He likes that idea more than he cares to admit. And they have their wedding day shortly. They invite along the entire court, his brother, Leo, along with his wife Kelly and her family. They invite Amber’s cousin, Heyley, too. And the big day arrives. Liam’s so used to it, by now. Standing in the spotlight, greeting people. But none of that is right about today. Today was different. Every guest he greeted, he greeted honestly. Not faking a smile, and listening to nonsense ramble coming out of their mouths. Today was about him and Amber. And each guest could see how genuinely happy Liam was. How in love he was with his wife to be. And when they announced her name, everyone turned just as eagerly as he have. Looking at the grand doors opening, Amber stepped in, looking more beautiful than Liam ever seen her. But it wasn’t the gleaming white dress she was wearing, or the way she did her hair. It wasn’t the makeup they insisted on painting her face with, but the way she smiled... they way she looked at him, as if he was the best thing that had happened to her in the world. She stepped down the stairs, Liam waiting for her at the bottom. “You look radiant.” He greeted her, when they finally met. He bowed down and planted a kiss to the back of the palm of her hand, and a smile spread across her lips. “You’re not so bad yourself.” She teased, back, squeezing his hand in hers. He’s about to lean in and just kiss her-- “Ahm.” It was Bastien, who reminded them where they were, and motioned with his head to the direction of the canopy. Nodding, both of them make their way over. Both keep their real vows to their friends ears only. The truth, deep meaning of their love story isn’t to the ears of the entire court, so they keep it short. “Liam,” Amber is the first to go. She’s teary-eyed, nothing but happiness is written across her face. “You came into my life less than a year ago, and yet… You’ve managed to turn in upside down. If someone had told me I’d be marrying the love of my life when you walked into my life that night, I would’ve never believed them. I learned a lot since coming to Cordonia, but most of it was actually about myself. I can’t express how happy I am to be standing beside you today, but I can promise to love and cherish you for the rest of my life, and stand beside you even in the tough times. I promise to be the queen Cordonia needs, and rule beside you peacefully, for as long as I may live.” Amber tells him, throwing a quick look to her bridesmaids, and then to Bertrand and Maxwell. Justin is standing right beside them, giving her a thumbs up. He helped her phrase the vows, in a way that was court-appropriate. Giving him a slight nod, she returns her gaze to Liam, who’s not less excited than she is. “Every moment with you feels like a fairy tale, but this is not a happy ending. It’s a happy beginning.” She finishes, just in a perfect note. It’s Liam’s turn, and he takes a deep breathe. Not because he’s nervous, or unsure, but because he doesn’t know if he can top what she just said. Smiling widely at her, he starts too. “Amber.” As he says her name, she tightens her hold of his hands. “Every moment with you has been a delight. I never knew someone who fought so hard for me, before, and I promise to do the same for you for every day for the rest of our lives. Like you said, our love story is not ending tonight, it’s only beginning. I can’t wait to start our journey together. I love you, Amber.” He finishes. “And I love you.” She answers, more quietly, but in a way that speaks volumes to Liam. They exchange their rings. “You may now kiss the bride.” And share their first kiss as a married couple. The crowd erupts in cheers and awww’s, as they turn to them, looking entirely new. King Liam and Queen Amber Rys of Cordonia. They don’t disappear immediately, though that thought is tempting, but make their rounds. They participate in the apple cutting ceremony, to which Regina seems most enthusiastic about. His older brother winks at him from a few feet apart. His father gives him a nod, with a weak smile and an apologetic look in his eyes. After they finish, they continue to do their rounds. Kiara and Penelope congratulate them, one of Penelope’s poodles present, by Amber’s wishes, and he looks even more excited than them for their wedding day. Smiling, and bending down to pat him, Liam thanks both of them and turns to Amber. Nodding, they continue to their friends. Hana and Maxwell are next, coming to their way hand in hand. “Congratulation!!!” Hana hugs both of them, and Maxwell follows. “Thank you!” They beam at each other. Drake, Savannah and Bertrand join them, along with Bartie. Each giving them their best wishes. Smiling, they continue, to meet with Leo and Kelly. “Liam!” Leo exclaims as they get closer, and he embraces his brother in a tight hug. Liam returns the hug, and than shakes Kelly’s hand. “Oh, c’mon, we’re all family! Let’s hug it out.” Someone comes in, pulling all of them into a group hug. Liam briefly remembers this must be one of Kelly’s sisters, but he can’t recall the name. Leo had sent photos, and they talked all about their lives, but Kelly’s family was big, and Liam would have to memorize their names later. “Sorry, this was Jess.” Kelly apologizes after her sister is gone, walking into the direction of the dance floor, along with tall guy with black hair, and a white suit. “And she’s here with... Blake?” Liam guessed, trying to remember his brother’s stories. “Correct!” Kelly smiles, and Liam nods. “Ah, I knew I’d get it right, eventually.” He chuckles. “We wanted to congratulate the two of you! We know how hard it was getting to this point, and we wish that the way from now on will be smooth, and that you’ll have a happy marriage.” They tell them, and both Liam and Amber thank them. After meeting a few more nobles, Liam offers his hand to Amber. “Dance with me?” They already shared their first dance, but another won’t hurt them, and she agrees. They hold each as they glide through the dance-floor.  Amber’s dancing as if she’s a natural, as if she was born into this life. If someone had told Liam he’d end up marrying the love of his life about a year ago, he wouldn’t have believe them. But here he was. As they dance, they almost bump into another couple. This make Amber stop in her tracks. “Heyley!” She calls excitedly. “Ahhh Amber!” They hug excitedly. Even without hearing her name, with one look over her he knew this was Amber’s cousin. Smiling at him, Amber introduces her. “Liam, this is my cousin, Heyley, and her boyfriend, Mark.” She pointed to the guy standing next to her, in a black, stylish suit. Mark puts his hand over the back of his neck, kinda nervously, as he shakes his hand. “Uhm, hello, King Liam-” “There’s not need for formalities,” Liam assures him, smiling fondly, and Mark nods. “Right.” Heyley and Amber share a look, then burst out laughing. “He never changes, y’know?” Amber says, and Mark seems to realize that, chuckling along with the rest of them. They congratulate them too and then resume the dancing, letting the song finish and another one starts playing. Liam leads the way, while they dance, waltzing the two of them just out of a near by balcony.  “Brings up memories?” He asks as they turn around, watching the empty balcony. “Only the best.” Amber assured him, her back to pressed to his chest. She leans against him, thinking back to her first night at Cordonia, and to a similar dance they shared. Liam’s strong arms are wrapped around her, as she sighs dreamily. She turns back to face him, a sheepish smile on her lips. “What is it?” Liam asks, his lips copying hers. “It’s just... I love you.” She tells him. Beaming at her, he replies. “I love you too.” It was never easier for him to say those three little words. And he never meant them more than now. With everything they might have to face from now on, they had at least one night that was all about themselves. While they were King Liam and Queen Amber, tonight, they were also just Amber and Liam. And from now on, they’ll always have each other. “And...” Amber tugs at his tie, pulling him closer. “I think we should head back to our room now.” She tells him. “I couldn’t agree more.” wasting no time, he pulls at her hand and ushers her towards the doors.

[theonceoverthinker]

One Call Away, But Realms Apart (Regal Believer)

Summary: Regina’s been none too happy ever since she was awoken from her personal curse, but as she hears her cursed son talk about his dying daughter, it’s enough to nearly tip Regina over the edge of despair. Deleted scene from 7X10 when Regina calls Henry to check in on him just before she and Zelena go back to HH. Not really angsty per se, but hopefully pretty feelsy.

A/N: This was really freakin’ fun to work on, and got me out of my writer’s rut! Hope you all enjoy it too!

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Zelena had told Regina to wait until after dinner to call Henry. She argued, quite validly, that Henry’s flight would take a few hours and he’d need time with Jacinda and Lucy.

Because of that, Regina waited, and the two of them had dinner together in Zelena’s apartment. Their meal, had it not been overshadowed by the weight of their situation, might have been much sweeter than it had been allowed to be. Zelena had insisted on eating pizza, moaning about her desire for a reunion with carbs and grease, and that couple with further details about her sister’s cursed lifestyle were enough to make Regina produce at least a couple of genuine smiles. They spent the time while finishing off the pie talking about their time under the curse. Regina almost got covered in tomato sauce when she told her sister that Hook had become an Eagle Scout of a detective who was now gallivanting around town with Rumpelstiltskin.

However, as nice as it was to reconnect with Zelena after all this time, the hours passed as slowly as a snail’s trip up a windy hill. Regina had made a habit of looking at her watch whenever there was any kind of silence between them, and sometimes, even if there wasn’t one. She was sure that Zelena had picked up on what she was doing, but she didn’t say anything. If Regina had the heart for it, she would’ve laughed. Time had ingrained her sister with sentiment and empathy the likes of which she would have scoffed at when they first met.

Following dinner, Zelena asked to take a look at Regina’s car, wanting to know how much space she’d have for her things before she started packing. Regina obliged, and a few minutes later, they were outside her building. Zelena had a quick look around the car, nodded, and then turned to Regina.

“I’m going to go ready my stuff,” she said. “Have a feeling I’m going to be gone for quite a while.” Zelena then pat Regina on her shoulder and gave her a sad smile. “Go talk to Henry.”

Regina, despite her longing to do just that, stayed put and bit her lip in hesitation.

“Do you think enough time has passed?” She asked.

Zelena nodded. “I do. And in the highly unlikely chance I’m wrong,” she added, grinning, “he’ll let you know. Now go and call him. I’ve a lot to pack.” With that, Zelena headed back into her apartment. Regina, deciding not to wait another moment longer, plugged in Henry’s name into her smartphone and clicked the call button.

One ring passed, then two, then three. Regina’s heart started to sink, dreading the familiar sound of her son’s voicemail, when suddenly, he picked up.

“Henry?” Regina said, her voice a touch hitched despite her best efforts.

“Hey, Roni.” It was odd to Regina just how odd her cursed name had sounded to her ears after a only a few hours of answering to her real name. She made a mental note to have Zelena practice saying her cursed name in the car until it was natural. For now though, Regina brushed aside her awkwardness and went straight to the point.

“How’s Lucy?”

“She the same,” Henry answered, so quietly that Regina almost didn’t hear him. Regina had asked that question knowing how Henry would likely respond, but nothing could prepare her for how miserable the words sounded as they came out his mouth. Regina felt her heart plumett down her chest in a way it hadn’t in so long.

“Henry, I,” Regina started, but stopped just as quickly. She chided herself for nearly telling him that she understood what he was going through. She knew that that choice of words would at best come off as an empty platitude and at worst result in icy words getting thrown back in her direction, for how could she explain that less than twenty years ago, she was in a similar situation?

Regina sighed, and worked out another phrasing of her sentiments.

“Henry, I’m so sorry,” she rectified, her voice low.

“Jacinda and I haven’t left the room in hours. Right now, she’s passed out on a chair by Lucy’s bed. She’s exhausted. Probably has been up for a whole day by now.”

There was a pause, as if both of them were trying to figure out what next to say.

“I read to her,” Henry eventually continued. “Jacinda thought it would be a good idea.” Regina smiled. It was such a Henry thing to do to read to someone in distress, even if Jacinda had ultimately motivated him to do it. She could even picture it. Henry always had the perfect reading voice.

“That-that’s good. Did she respond to it at all?” For a moment, Regina had something that she had sorely lacked from the moment she had awoken from this most recent curse: hope.

“No,” Henry sighed. Over the line, Regina could hear Henry’s breath quicken up. Every inhale and exhale was audible and rapid, only grower moreso as the seconds passed. Regina leaned against the outer wall of her sister’s apartment building. She once again knew that the answer to the question she was about to ask would only lead to pain, and right now, with Henry’s knowledge of their true relationship gone and without any way of giving him the comfort she knew he desperately needed, Regina felt herself needing some semblance of support.

“Henry, are you okay?”

“Roni, I tried bringing her back, just like in my book.” Regina stifled a sob as she heard a crack in his voice, one that only grew as he spoke. “You remember the part where Emma broke the curse, right? I kissed her on the forehead, just like in that scene. But it didn’t work. I-I don’t know why I tried it, but as I leaned in - I don’t know - I just thought it would wake her up! I actually believed that I was her father, and I could stop all of this. I don’t even know what to think! Am I going insane?” At this point, Regina was biting her tongue, a last resort to stay the tears that were pouring down her face like a ruptured pipe so that they wouldn’t become outright sobs. On the other end of the line, while she couldn’t see them, she swore Henry was shedding tears of his own.

Regina took a deep and shaky breath, knowing she’d need to speak.

“Henry,” she said, as soberly as she could. “You’re not crazy, do you hear me?” She could hear Henry chuckle, not bitterly, but sadly.

“I’m starting to think I just might be,” Henry countered.

“Well, I’m here to tell you that you’re not.” Regina attributed her emphasis on that point to come down to a few things, not the least of which being guilt for cardinal sin of claiming the opposite all those years ago. “You care about this girl and you had hope, and there is nothing wrong with that.” Her voice was loud and firm now, far more than Regina probably should have allowed it to be. “So you took a chance.”

“And a fat lotta good it did,” Henry commented.

“It’s a start,” Regina encouraged, her voice now firm and unshaken. “Henry, I promise you: Lucy’s going to be okay, and the two of you are going to be happy. Now, Kelly and I are heading back to the city tonight, and we’ll be at the hospital the first thing tomorrow, but until that happens, I’m going to need you to promise me two things.”

“Two?” Henry scoffed.

“Yes, two,” Regina insisted. “First, you’re to take care of yourself. Get some coffee and food in your system. You’ll be no good to anyone if you can barely fight off your stomach. Don’t forget: I know how you are with those donuts you bring in and the pretzels I leave out at the bar.”

“Okay,” Henry answered, clearly convinced. “What’s the second promise?”

Regina took another deep breath. This promise she confessed that she hadn’t thought out fully, but concluded that it was harmless enough. It was mostly for her peace of mind, because as it stood, her son’s state scared her just a bit.

“You’re to stay with Jacinda. Henry, she needs you now, and Lucy does too. So however sorry for yourself you’re feeling, you’re going to have to hold out just a little longer.”

Another chuckle could be heard through the speaker of Regina’s phone.

“You don’t even need to ask me to do that, Roni.”

Despite everything that would happen and everything that was sure to come, Regina smiled.

“You’re a good man, Henry Mills, and I’m so proud of you.” She knew what she had said may have come off a touch too motherly, and might even hold the risk of confusing Henry, but of all the things that she really wanted to say, this was the closest to the motivating words of a friend that she could come up with.

Thankfully, nothing that she said had seemed off putting in the slightest.

“Thanks, Roni. I’m glad I have you around. I’m pretty sure I’d actually go insane if I didn’t. Well, you and Kelly have a long drive, so I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Good night, Henry.” Honestly, had she not had the pressing need to drive through hours of traffic and darkness with her eccentric sister, she would have gladly stayed on with him all night if he wanted to. That said, she knew what they both needed to do, and an evening on the phone, no matter how comforting it would be to just talk to him and make him feel better as best as she cold, would do more harm than good for their purposes. So, with a heavy heart, Regina pressed the red button on her phone’s touch screen, and brought their phone call to an end.

Regina despite every bit of somberness she wanted to sulk in, refused to let herself succumb to the darkness. Just as she’d said to Henry, she’d find a way to for he and Lucy to get their happy ending, no matter the cost.

As Regina approached her sister, ready to talk once more of strategies and information, she gritted her teeth with determination.

It was show time.

[monosylla-blog]

I sent Josh a friend request on Facebook when I was drunk at a party many months ago, and then deleted the request a few months later. I don’t know what I expected him to do. I wondered if he’d googled my area code from when I texted him, if he knew where I was from. I wondered if he would find me attractive, if he would date me, now that I am not only older than Olivia was, but also better read and more experienced. I wondered how he feels about what I did, if he ever thinks about me. I wondered if he talked to his friends about me, and what they thought. I wondered if he had ever written anything about me. I wondered if he took a break from online dating. I wondered if he is as disappointing as the other mid-twenties dudes I know and have fucked. Would the sex have been good? Would we still be in love? If I were Josh’s Olivia, would he even have been what I want?

When I created the fake okCupid profile, my intentions were unclear. I told my friends, who were all older than I was, that I was using the profile as a sort of litmus test to see what the social scene was like in the various cities I was considering going to college in. This was partly true. This was the excuse I initially told myself. But it also was not the first time I had an internet relationship, although it would be the last.

Having been around 16 at the time, and fat, and probably understandably angsty and weird, and generally unattractive to every boy I interacted with, or at least not attractive enough to warrant letting me know I was not hideous, I was getting pretty annoyed by my lack of romantic prospects. I was desperate for romance. It was the summer before my senior year of high school and I recently left a megachurch I had happily committed most of my time to for three years. I sought to catch myself up with my peers somehow, I suppose. While I was attending youth band practice and taking care of church members’ children every Sunday morning, my classmates were out experimenting and getting good at all the stuff I had only ever read and fantasized about.

I spent a lot of my time fantasizing about what my life in college would look like. I would to go to parties all the time, and I would sleep with so many dudes, I would read so many books, and finally, FINALLY, I would get a boyfriend. I spent so much time split between worrying no one would ever love me in that way, and wondering what my life would be like once someone finally did. Would the men at school actually appreciate all the Bukowski I read in a misguided attempt to seem interesting? Would they be into the kinky, dom/sub sex I kept reading about on Tumblr all summer?

The pictures I used for the profile were of a model I found on Tumblr. She was incredibly beautiful, almost ethereally so. She wore a long, straight weave and was model thin, with Victoria’s Secret model proportions. She was not a girl next door by any means. I imagined, by the time I start college, I could totally look vaguely like this girl. I gave myself the name Olivia and I picked the age 19, which felt like the age I should have been at the time anyway. I set my location to Pittsburgh, where I thought I might attend Pitt.

I talked to several men with this fake profile. I felt vaguely guilty the whole time, but also wildly powerful. Most men got frustrated when I evaded their questions about Pittsburgh, or about why I was unwilling to meet them, or about why I could not tell them about my favorite bookstore in the city, even though I claimed to love books so much. There was one man in particular I felt compelled to be honest with, and he chastised me for Catfishing, even though I explained I had no intention for it to be long term or, you know, misleading. I tried not to make up details about my life for the most part, and was honest in my interactions, save my name and appearance, so I started calling it a social experiment.

I do not know what Josh’s first message to me read. I am sure it was something eloquent and boozy. Having spent a summer building myself, pretending to like all the male writers and musicians I thought I should like to be the kind of girl I thought I should be to land the kind of relationships with men I thought I wanted, we bonded over our mutual interests in vinyl and literature. I avoided telling him the only Fitzgerald I had actually been exposed to had been against my own will in the 11th grade. I did not tell him the only records I owned were the ones my brother had bought me for Christmas at my request, Justin Timberlake’s The 20/20 Experience parts 1 and 2. But the lies felt less like lies and more like truths about my future self. I was not necessarily wrong, I would probably resemble Olivia eventually.

Josh was 25 at the time, in a band that was actually good, a writer, and genuinely hilarious. I imagined myself on tour with him. We messaged all day for several days, leaving me constantly dazzled by promises of road trips where we would shoot off fireworks in parking lots and make love in his car. I woke up to messages from him and fell asleep talking to him. He told me he absolutely loved the name Olivia, so I wished to exist in the alternate universe where my name really was Olivia. I began to understand things had already gone too far when I started trying to come up with lies to avoid meeting him. I wanted to freeze this reality; I wanted to encase this constant but limited attention in a shadowbox. Mostly, I did not want his opinion to change of me. He had fallen for me after all. Just like, the very best possible version of myself.

Josh revealed himself to me in ways in which I never asked him to, or reciprocated. He told me about his battle with body image issues, and how he used to be fat. I told him I also used to be fat. I omitted the part about still being fat. Josh felt understood; I felt further away from myself than I had ever felt before. The sweeter he was, the more I hated myself, and the more I needed to keep talking to him. I disappeared from the world for a week.

My excuses became increasingly erratic and concerning. I told Josh my grandmother was diagnosed with ovarian cancer, and that I had to move to Tanzania to help take care of her. Josh suggested we write letters to each other while I was out of the country, until we could be together. He told me when he imagined his future, he couldn’t see one without his Olivia. I didn’t know which was more alarming - my lie, or his response to it.

Finally, wrecked with guilt and sadness, the once-dull ache of my constant and overwhelming fucking physical desire reaching a peak, I took a deep breath and told Josh the truth. Or rather, the truth packed its bags and flung itself out of my body through my mouth, exhausted from living in such a hostile and guilt-ridden environment. I told him I was 16, going on 17. I told him the pictures were not of me. I told him why I had created the account in the first place, and that I felt awash with guilt over how in over my head I had gotten. Josh’s response displayed essentially the entire spectrum of grief in one message. He refused to believe me at first, and was convinced I felt bad about having to move to Tanzania to take care of my fake grandmother with ovarian cancer. He begged me to tell the truth. I did not know what to say to him, so instead I tried to convince him we could be friends until I turned 18. At this point, he became angry, expressed his fear of our online tryst being illegal, and told me to delete my account. Before deleting Olivia, I screenshotted his most meaningful messages.  

One of those screenshots captured a message with Josh’s phone number. I helped myself to a vodka cranberry c/o my parents’ liquor cabinet, which really only ever contains about half a bottle of vodka. It was my first taste of alcohol since 7th grade, when I took a shot of whiskey prior to taking a standardized test I was unprepared for. Saddled with some liquid courage, I began to draft a text to Josh. The vodka cranberry was basically 4 oz of vodka to one teaspoon of cranberry, so I stumbled around my room trying to figure out what I could say to salvage the relationship. It was a desperate drunkenness, a kind I haven’t succumbed to since. I didn’t like the kinds of things this drunkenness made me say and do. I texted Josh and essentially begged him to forgive me. I suggested we write letters to each other until I became legal. I felt myself being pulled apart by a fantasy life I accidentally created and wanted so badly to recreate.

Eventually, I stopped fantasizing about being with him as myself. I learned not to fantasize because I am incredibly pain-avoidant and It hurt to know I was capable of such an intricate lie. I started to joke about it vaguely with friends. “Have I ever told you about the time I catfished a dude? No? Eh, I’ll tell you about it later.”

At the tender age of 17, I had experienced an inordinate amount of trauma and passion, still having never being kissed. I imagined my quasi-relationship with Josh had been more serious than any real relationships any of my classmates had ever experienced, and I was still a virgin. I grew extremely depressed and frustrated. When I expressed my frustration to my childhood best friend, she advised me to lower my standards. “That’s what I did,” she shrugged, looking sort of sorry I was just realizing everything is bullshit.