#but then (last) the relief swoops in because ultimately I decide what I do with my life. and I don't have to meet others' expectations

[musicrunsthroughmysoul]

Maybe it's just the day today but idk what it is about finding out that people my age (or at least in my generation) have kids...on the one hand it's like, Aw, cute - kids, but on the other hand it's like Oh god that will NEVER BE ME [being a parent] AND I'M FINE WITH THAT BUT ALSO ?????? and I don't know what the '??????' means, except it kind of depresses me.

[cherryyharryy]

angst to fluff where y/n finds out she was originally just supposed to be a rebound type thing after he broke up with someone like idk something like he broke up with someone on the european leg of tour and she was supposed just be with him until he went on another leg but then he started to love her and brings her on the rest of tour with him and she finds out abt the rebound thing after the last show of tour where everyones drunk and celebrating and one person lets it slip

I tweaked it just a bit...hope that's ok:)

WC: 3.5K

****

“You look beautiful.”

I skim my nose across Harry’s cheek, his chin resting on my shoulder, and hum against stubble that wasn’t there this morning. “You’ve said that five times tonight.”

“And?” He slips around to face me.

His suit is a deep maroon, probably black if you’re far away, probably purple if you’ve had too much champagne. His chest expands when I slide my hand down.

“Love this dress.” He takes my hand off and pulls me closer, pressing a kiss to my head.

“You two forget where you’re at?” Another foreign voice surrounds us, well, foreign to me.

“Fucker,” Harry says to the man. They pat each other’s backs as the guy walks away. “Tyler Johnson.”

“Oh.”

“He worked with me on the last album.”

“Okay.”

It’s like the fifteenth person that I’ve been introduced to tonight, all of whom pass by with quick hellos, inside jokes with Harry, and little interest in me. The fast paced world of the rich and famous doesn’t slow down, even for charity.

“Harry, so glad you could make it.” Another voice, another man. This one lingers, long enough to receive my name, and offer a cliche compliment about my patience to put up with this beautiful bastard on my arm.

I thank him with the smile I’ve learned to speak through. These celebrities never stop smiling. Never stop posing. Never stop.

Then he’s gone too, and Harry’s whispering yet another name in my ear, of which I’ll forget seconds later because these people ultimately mean nothing to me. They all seem to pass through each other’s lives whenever convenience allows, playing house and acting like grown ups who get the privilege of not truly growing up.

I feel like the Gucci dress Harry had tailored to my body doesn’t fit. My posture sucks. I’m too scared to eat any of the finger foods being carried on silver platters through the hall. I haven’t learned how to smile through food I don’t like or not make a mess or take small enough bites. I swear, not one glass of champagne has any lipstick on it. They’re like magic.

I look at Harry. He’s stepped away to converse with a face that I do know. He and Jeff speak animatedly, Harry’s arms gesturing to whatever story he’s telling. I step over to one of the dressed tables and place what little weight I can onto the chair, needing to cling to something. When I look back up I smile, the two of them now laughing, and probably a little too loud for this charity auction.

“Y/n...right?”

I whip around, a man I’ve seen in pictures on Harry’s phone holds out his hand.

I straighten my back and accept his greeting. “Yes.”

“Finally we meet!” He catches my confusion and chuckles. “I produced Harry’s last album.”

Something clicks in my head, and he’s suddenly more familiar. “Oh! I knew that.”

Tom Hull...Kid Harpoon I process just as he introduces his name.

“I—”

An arm slipping around my waist stunts my question, Harry tipping back a red drink with his free hand while the other squeezes my hip. “Just tell this one to leave you alone,” he jabs.

Tom rolls his eyes, patting the breast of his green suit to look for something, only to show off his middle finger.

“Can’t believe the two of you haven’t met,” Harry says.

“I know, I guess we just missed each other.” Tom nods to me. “Heard you went to quite a few shows.”

“As many as I could.”

An uneasy sting travels down my spine. I did go to many shows, practically following Harry around his entire tour...all on his dime. Lord knows the man can afford it, but I still felt weird about him dishing out thousands of dollars to add me to each plane ride.

“Well I’m happy to see you two kids together,” Tom jokes, patting Harry on his back. “I’ve told him he needs to date women who will fuck him up. That’s where the songs are.”

He saunters off like he did not just say that. No. Absolutely not.

My face burns and it hurts to turn my head, but I still manage to narrow my eyes at Harry.

“Do you want another drink?”

I wait. I give him more than enough seconds to explain what the hell that was. But he’s clueless—ignorant.

“No. I do not.”

***

I do not bother taking my heels off in the car. My plan is to storm into our hotel room the second we park. Possibly locking Harry out...haven’t decided on that part yet.

The vague chit chat he makes with the driver stirs my nerves. It shouldn’t make me angry, and it’s not so much the act as it is his demeanor. He’s too cheery right now and it’s pissing me off.

“Okay,” he grabs my attention from Los Angeles flying past my window, the partition rolling up to leave us completely alone in the back seat. “What’s wrong?”

I bite my tongue, literally. “Nothing.”

“You seemed...irritated.”

“Did I?”

“Y/n.”

I turn to face him, inhaling sharply to calm my coming words. “Why are you with me?”

His face pales, and not a muscle moves. He just stares at me until he finally blinks and starts jerking his jaw around. “What are you talkin’ about?”

I roll my eyes. “The fact that you don’t know, bothers me even more.” I sigh, fighting back tears because I am determined not to cry in front of him. “Tom said that you should date people that fuck you up.”

“O—oh. That’s all?”

I squint, curling my lip. “What do you mean, that’s all? Is that not enough for you? Because that was a lot for me to hear tonight.”

“Baby, he was just messing around.”

I don’t budge.

“Really, it’s nothin’ to think about.” He tucks my hair behind my ear, trailing his hand down to cup my jaw. “Promise. It’s just like when people told you that you could do better than me, or insult me to compliment you.” He shrugs. “It’s just party talk.”

I process his words, supposing he’s not wrong. He did receive quite a few insults in lieu of my praise tonight. Maybe I was just on edge because of the setting; being surrounded by the rich and famous while I struggle to pay my rent each month isn’t exactly grounds for positive thinking.

“Okay, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for.” He leans over to kiss me, stroking my face as his lips skim over mine. “Did I tell you how stunning you look tonight?”

***

It’s funny how your brain works. How emotions swoop in and corral your thoughts, like a salesman who pretends to care about you so they can get what they want. My mind was desperate for relief, from hearing Tom’s nervy comment, and I naively allowed Harry to take what he needed in that moment.

Something’s not quite right. I don’t know what it is, but I can feel it.

I’ve been mulling over Harry’s words in my head all weekend, playing them on repeat, hoping they’ll start to make sense, but if anything their value keeps dropping. What worries me the most, is that I don’t know whether he’s trying to protect me or himself. I don’t know if one is any better than the other.

It’s golden hour when we pull up to the beach. I can hear the music before I even open the car door; a volleyball shoots up over the rows of bushes hiding the party, disappearing and popping back up a moment later.

I don’t really want to be here, but I also don’t want to be the girlfriend who won’t support their boyfriend.

“Ready?” Harry asks, and I nod.

The closer we walk, the clearer the music becomes. Harry’s voice takes over the private beach, and I wonder if they’re playing his entire album or just Golden on repeat.

A good bit of the people drinking and chatting I recognize form the event the other night, but there are still plenty of new faces. I take some fruity drink that was offered to me and down half of it before my feet hit sand.

And so the routine continues. I’m introduced to someone, they compliment me, laugh with Harry, congratulate him on pretty much everything he’s ever done, and then repeat with a new face. I do manage to find Sarah at one point after I’ve detached myself from Harry, and the two of us head for the water.

“Are you feeling okay?” Sarah asks once our toes are wet.

I hold my breath and count to five, finishing whatever the hell I’m drinking before I can answer her. “I’m great.”

“Harry said you weren’t doing too well after the auction?”

“Yes, Harry does a lot of talking with people when I’m not around.”

“Alright, spill it,” Sarah says.

I trace the rim of my glass, flicking my eyes over my shoulder to make sure we’re far away from the party. “It’s stupid, really, I’m just a little...I don’t know...Tom said something the other night that rubbed me the wrong way. And Harry doesn’t seem to care.”

“What did he say?”

“Just something about how Harry needs to have relationships with people who will fuck him up.”

“Ooh,” she nods, seemingly well versed in the statement. “Yeah that’s an Iggy Pop quote. Tom mentioned it in Rolling Stone when he was interviewed.” She sips her drink, eyes growing small over the rim. “It was just a cheap line of advice he gave Harry after he was torn up after his last breakup.”

“Wait, so he actually did say that before? Like before the other night?”

Sarah drifts her eyes up in thought, nodding. “Um hm. After him and Camille broke things off.” She shrugs, and gestures to the party exploding on the beach behind us. “Fine Line.”

I have no idea what I’m feeling. No clue what is coursing through my veins, but it’s not blood anymore. The corners of my jaw tingle until my face starts going numb, my breathing shallow and chest tight.

“You okay?”

“I uh, I gotta go.”

Sarah calls after me but I let my name die in the breeze as I march back to the crowd. It’s nearly dark now, and finding Harry among all his people will take forever. I try to look for him, but I’m so distraught I can’t concentrate long enough to make out faces. I give up and head back to his car, only to find it’s locked. The asphalt is warm on my legs as I lower down to the ground, careless to the dirt I’m getting on my clothes and the scratches on my skin.

I’m not in this position for long. Not long enough, at least. Harry rounds the corner of the bushes, speeding up when he sees me.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

He moves to sit down beside me, but I jump up before he can.

“You’re a fucking liar.”

“Whoa! What!? What’s gotten into you lately?”

“I told you! What Tom said the other night!” I’m yelling, too loud for public, I know. But a small part of me wants someone to hear. I want to disrupt the bubble Harry lives in.

“And I told you that it was just nonsense.”

“And that’s why you’re a liar! Sarah just told me, that he said that to you after you and Camille broke up.”

“Okay...and?”

I inhale as deep as I can. It makes me dizzy, adds to my headache. “And, what the fuck am I supposed to do with that? With the knowledge that the only reason you’re even with me, is because I’m gonna fuck you up so bad you’ll get songs out of it?

“Y/n,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “you’re taking this waaay too literally. Trust me.”

“You’re not in a position right now where I even want to trust you.”

“This has gotten completely out of control. I cannot believe you’re this upset over something so stupid.”

“Right there, Harry!” I point at him. “You keep dismissing how I feel! You don’t even care that this upsets me! That I feel like I need to reevaluate our entire relationship!”

“What is there to evaluate!? I haven’t even done anything! You’re blowing up about something that someone else said!”

“But you listened to him!”

“What,” he shrugs, “what do you want?”

“I don’t know what I want, Harry. I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Do what?” He pauses, swallowing. “Us?”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, us. I can’t be with you if—if you’re just waiting around for me to ruin you emotionally.”

“You’re seriously gonna let someone else’s words do this to us? You’d break up with me because of something another person said?”

“Harry, if I break up with you it’s gonna be because of what you’ve done. I don’t care that he said it, I care that you agree to it. And quite frankly, it’s pretty insulting to Camille. You spent a part of your life with that girl, and you just capitalize off of it. I’m not gonna let you do that to me.”

“I’m not capitalizing off of anyone! What the hell am I supposed to write my songs about? I’m just supposed to not date then?”

“It’s the fact that you sought out a relationship in order to fuel your writing.”

“No, y/n, that’s not what I did.” He narrows his eyes at me, and even in the dark I can see his anger. “I sought you out because I was devastated after me and her broke up. You were only supposed to be a rebound.”

I feel like the wind’s been knocked out of me. The music overhead blurs into noise scraping my eardrum, my vision grows weak and foggy. He wanted to hurt me, and he did.

“I expect a thank you when you release your next album.” I spin on my heel and head towards the main road, yanking my phone from my pocket to call an uber. For the second time tonight, my name trails behind me in the wind. I can hear Harry’s steps pick up, and as fast as I walk, he still catches me.

“Y/n, please, let’s go back to the hotel. You can hate me and not talk to me, but please don’t leave.”

I ignore him, trying to set up my ride. “Where the hell are we?”

He glances at my phone, and I can tell he considers keeping the answer to himself, so he can keep me to himself. He drops his voice, much weaker than before. “Carbon Beach. Canyon road.”

Ten minutes.

“Y/n—”

“I am not interested in discussing this with you.”

“I’m so sorry. I—I was mad and was just trying to win the argument. Whichever way I could.”

“Congratulations on your win.”

“Y/n, please, honey. I don’t want to lose you.” He drags his hands down his face, keeping his palms dug into his eyes. When he lets them drop, there are tears spilling down his cheeks. “I can’t lie and say you weren’t, but yes you were a rebound for me, but that went away. Literally weeks after we started dating. I care about you so much. I wouldn’t drag you to every show and event I have if I didn’t. I’m so proud to call you mine. The last thing you are to me is—is just grounds for my writing.”

I stare out across the road. A jeep speeds by and the gush of wind it brings sends chills down my arms.

“Harry, I just...it’s a lot. You’re a lot. Your life is a lot.” I sigh and slowly turn to face him. “It feels like the significance of us being in each other’s lives are so different.”

He kicks a rock across the road, dust flying up around us. “Fuck. Y/n I’m begging—”

“They’re here.” I nod to the headlights approaching us.

“Baby, please.”

“I think I need to be alone right now.” I get in the backseat. “Enjoy your party.”

***

I text him when I’m back at the hotel, having nowhere else to go. I didn’t think my plan of leaving through, because he’ll come back here before the night’s over. But I’m hoping he’ll stay away for a bit, long enough for me to process everything at least.

Deep down I know there’s not as much to the comment as I thought. And Harry’s not that type of guy. But the lack of concern over my feelings...the fact that I was just used as a warm body while he got over Camille...that’s what hurts the most.

There’s a fine line between being sorry because you’ve been called out, and truly being sorry. How sorry can he be when he got what he wanted? Even if I’m not what he envisioned past a few quick fucks, he still comes out on top happy.

I feel like the lifestyle these people live is embedded with secret codes, all of which I’m not wired to pick up on. The money, the mistakes, the adoration... Everything is a lot, and playing catch up is nearly impossible.

I don’t get the alone time I’d wished for. There are curses and clicks of the doorknob right before Harry comes in. He stands at the entrance, staring at me on the lounge chair like he’s unsure if I’m real.

“Wasn’t sure you’d come back here.”

“Where else can I go?” I nod to his phone in his hand. “I texted you.”

“I was driving.”

I sigh, flinching when he turns the lights on. “I know you wanna talk, but I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to,” he says, dropping his keys on a table to come sit beside me. “I’ll talk though.” He inhales, holding his breath for a second before forcing the air out. “I know that me saying I’m sorry means shit to you right now. And to be honest, it probably is coming from me...in a way. You’re right about everything. And whatever you’re feeling, once you figure that out, you’re valid about that too.”

“How would you feel if you were only meant to be temporary in my life? You never mentioned why you were interested in me in the beginning. And no, I never would have gone out with you had I known. I would never want to be someone’s rebound. There’s just something sneaky about that.”

His head drops into his hands, and his shoulders shake right before I hear him cry. “I know, I—I get so caught up in myself sometimes. I’m such a fucking prick.” When he looks up, his eyes are burnt red, glassy and defeated. “I don’t deserve you, and I really don’t deserve anyone.”

“Harry,” I chastise, not expecting the downward spiral he’s ventured onto.

“I swear I care about you. I want you to be happy, and I want to make you happy. I don’t want to be the one to treat you this way. Ever.”

I inhale as deep as I can, holding my breath until it hurts. “I know.” I take his hand in mine. “And I know your heart, and I know you care about me. I—” I sigh, “I’m not comfortable with...just forgetting all of this though. I can forgive you, but I think we need to take a couple steps back. I’ve gotten so swept up in your life and your world, I’m losing my own.”

He nods slowly, accepting my words with a pained face.

“I care about you too.”

He looks up for the first time, catching the last few tears with the back of his hand. “I know you do.”

I offer a small smile and lean in to kiss his cheek. His eyes fall closed, and blindly he turns to press his lips to mine. Our kiss is salty and urgent.

“What did you say to everyone when you left?”

He frowns in thought, like the memory is too far away. “Nothing. Jumped in my car and prayed this is where you’d be.”

I take his hand and pull us both to our feet. “We should go to bed. It’s been a long night. Too long.”

We’re quiet and slow as we shed our clothes and brush our teeth, slipping into bed around two a.m.. Harry doesn’t waste a second in pulling me into his warm chest, wrapping his arms around me in a tight hug that has me burying my face into his neck.

We lay there, silent, but when I know I don’t have much longer before sleep overcomes me, I kiss his shoulder, whispering how much I love him before I close my eyes.

[bigskydreaming]

William Cobb is a total asshat and I hate him, thanks, BUT I will admit there’s a particular AU that’s been dancing around my Brain Cave for a few years that’s like.....hmmm.

Okay, so he’s a full on douchebag, but imagine if he was a full on douchebag who in this AU did still have an actual soft spot for family instead of drinking the Kool-Aid and thinking like ‘being the 1%’s elite murder moppet is actually the greatest honor I could ever hope for myself or any descendant of mine’ he’s like.....not awful about the subject of family and is like ‘well I’M a terrible person, but I will fight for my family’s right to choose to not be a terrible person, because like, they’re family, and its their life to fuck up if they want to be all weird about it or whatever.’

So BASICALLY, what I’m getting at is like, so, the Court was all into nabbing the Gray Son after Dick’s parents died, and William Cobb for once in his miserable existence experienced like, actual Internal Conflict about this because he’s like oh nooooo, but my great grandson is so cute actually and I can speak with some authority to the fact that if the Court gets their hands or requisite-Talons-pun on him, that like.....will not last long.

But then he breathes an undead sigh of relief or whatever the equivalent for him is when Bruce Wayne, one of the most powerful figures in the city, powerful enough for the Court to be wary about picking a fight with him, like, randomly swoops in and makes with the adopting of said great grandson.

And the Court’s like, ugh, what is this feeling of being denied something we want simply because we think we should have it? Do Not Like, 10/10 would absolutely NOT recommend, except to mortal enemies we hate. But whatever. I GUESS Bruce Wayne can keep the brat, but only because we simply don’t care enough to make a big deal about it and definitely not because we’re intimidated by his own power and family prestige. Cuz we’re totally not. We’re not! Shut up.

BUT.

THEN.

YEARS LATER.

The Court is engaged in active conflict with the Batfamily, and his Internal Conflict appeased and years behind him, Cobb’s like, all into the fight and giving it his all, until Something Plot Contrivey happens to unmask Nightwing and Cobb’s like. Oh shit. That’s my great grandson. CURSE YOU, SUDDEN BUT INEVITABLE RESURGENCE OF INTERNAL CONFLICT! NOBODY FUCKING ASKED, JEEZ.

And Dick’s just like.....uh, what’s happening right now? I feel like I’m missing context. Can a bitch get an MLA citation here or something?

All of this culminating in Cobb maybe not HELPING the Batfam demolish the Court but perhaps at least oh so conveniently not NOT helping when the Batfam delivers a metaphorical death blow to the Court O’Assholes. Like, the Grandmaster dipshit calls him on his celly to be like COBB! THE COURT HAS BEEN BREACHED! COME DEFEND YOUR MASTERS and Cobb’s like bzzrt....click....whrrrr....sorry going through a tunnel can’t hear you oh no dropped my phone in the sewers, signal lost, much regret.

And he just happens to arrive to the fight too late to change the outcome and he’s like oh dang, did I miss it? Shucks, I KNEW I shouldn’t have taken the freeway. My bad, guys. This one’s on me.

Because of Plot Contrivancey then, by this point the Batfam knows who this dude is and they let him go with a shovel talk like we still know about all the murder, FYI, and we’re doing this for Dick’s sake not yours, so you better not do ANY murder from here on out or its on sight.

And Cobb’s like okay first off, you’re not the fucking boss of me, but secondly, like, eh, whatever. I’m fucking old. I can retire. Its fine.

BUT because being a lying liar who lies about just kicking back and taking it easy and having hobbies is literally encoded into the Grayson DNA, he fucking lies like a lying liar who lies, and after trying to pick up fly fishing for like, two whole hours before calling it quits, he decides to devote his undead golden years to stalking his great-grandson like the creepiest guardian angel that literally nobody ever asked for. Dick included.

Dick keeps trying to like, Old Yeller this situation and is like GO HOME! You GO home now! Go on! But Cobb’s just not having it and he accidentally kills another up-and-coming Rogue who sets his sights on Nightwing. Great-Grandson and Great-Grandpa engage in heated stare-off, Battle of The Wills. Batman arrives and clears his throat menacingly. Cobb’s like oh no I’m so scared, I would totally be sweating right now if I weren’t physiologically incapable of sweating and oh yeah DYING.

And then its Cobb and Bruce engaging in the Battle of the Wills: Grudge Match edition, because they’re both glaring each other down while thinking the identical thoughts of “ugh the literal worst person in the world made one point and one point only and that’s that we must protect this mutually loved person at all costs and taking each other down would ultimately only deprive said loved one of a protector who could like, be key in protecting him from some future Murder Demise or whatnot” which segues neatly into both Bruce and Cobb shaking their fists at the sky and being all CURSE YOU, SUDDEN BUT INEVITABLE RESURGENCE OF INTERNAL CONFLICT! NOBODY FUCKING ASKED, JEEZ.

And Dick’s like, okay I can see you’re both very busy right now and this is no longer about me really so I’m just gonna leave you to it and go get ice cream with Damian. I’ll check back in a couple of hours to see if either of you has blinked yet, I guess? Idk. Whatever. You guys do you.

“My family is so fucking weird,” he grumbles under his breath as he walks off into the sunset. His siblings apparate into his presence, mouths open and ready to argue the comparative greater weirdness of their grafted branch of the Wayne family tree and he’s just like first person to bust out a flow-chart isn’t getting any ice cream, FYI, but because they’re all the kids of a billionaire who can be counted on to give them some spending money of a few hundred or so with just a puppy eyes look and a “why yes, Bruce, a hundred dollars IS the price of one banana,” like, they are not actually phased by this threat and it all swiftly devolves into ‘Whose Relatives Are Like, The WORST Worst’ competition that nobody will ever win, not that that actually matters.  

Its like, the Wayne Family Forever War. Just family tradition at this point. You get it.

[ketamineharry]

Thank You For Stopping By - Ethan Payne

Requested: Yes ~ used to be in a relationship with one of the boys, you break up and reunite a few years later? feelings never really went away, every relationship since has failed, you're my one true love yada yada yada (any boy u want icon)

Authors Note: For anyone interested, this is based on a spoken word poem called When Love Arrives by Sarah Kay and Phil Kaye

In year seven, you were adamant that you knew what love looked like. He wore a shark tooth necklace and knew how to play all of your favourite Oasis songs on the acoustic guitar. His hair swooped to the side, the envy of any boyband member. He was taller than you and always wanted to take photos for Instagram that made everyone else envious.

When love finally arrived, in the form of Ethan Payne. He was a troubled teenager, grieving the loss of his father. He was off the rails and was constantly getting himself in trouble. Dabbling in drugs, drinking his life away on the weekends and hardly ever attending the college. Nevertheless, he enticed you. He became the reason that you lied to your parents, always relying on your friend Jess to cover for you when you wanted to hang out. You couldn’t imagine what your loving, but ultimately overbearing parents would have had to say if they found out that you were meeting up with — never mind dating, someone like Ethan.

The first kiss you shared was messy, teeth getting tangled together. Still, you could feel the spark charging through your body for every second your lips connected. Hand pressed against his face while his hand was wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you closer into him. It was safe to say that you got lost in each other.

When Ethan had finally decided to break it off with you, in what felt like some sort of amateur disappearing act. It hurt. The relationship had only lasted for a few months, but, it felt like there was a longevity to it that hadn’t been explored. The hurt that hit you, was unlike anything you had ever felt. The worst part about it was, your friends had been warning you for weeks. If you had listened to them and jumped ship before he was able to, maybe it wouldn’t have stung so badly. The reality of the situation was that you were loyal to a fault and you couldn’t have left Ethan without a valid reason.

The breakup had left you with songs that you could no longer listen to and wounds that you had no idea how to heal. You found new love, love that was willing to tell you just how beautiful you were over and over again; no matter how much you were sick of hearing it. But somehow failed to tell you when you needed to hear it most. This love baked you cookies, but would eat most of them for a midnight snack. This love wasn’t perfect, but they sealed the Ethan shaped hole that was burned into your heart when he decided to walk away. In spite of all of this though, you still longed for the excitement and adrenaline that being with Ethan provided.

-

Which is why it didn’t surprise you when after the end of your most recent relationship, when Ethan reached out to you and asked to meet up after such a long time… it felt like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. It didn’t take much to get you to agree, if anything the least meeting up with him would do is provide you with closure. With closure, at least then you could move on.

You were sitting outside a coffee shop, nursing a cappuccino in one hand. The other hand around your phone, scrolling aimlessly through Instagram. A tap on your shoulder knocked you out of your thoughts. Ethan. From a quick glance, he looked so much better than when you had last seen him. He had lost weight, his sense of style had improved by leaps and bounds and he wore glasses that seemed to frame his face perfectly. He was even more beautiful than you had remembered.

“Y/N!” Ethan beamed, knocking you out of your thoughts. You stood up, to greet him. As you did, he engulfed you in a hug. The smell of his cologne instantly hit you. The man that stood before you, was certainly the boy that had broken your heart many moons ago.

You both sit down, hands connected; almost as if either of you let go, you’d wake up from some sort of fever dream. A comfortable silence embraced you both for a while. Until the harsh reality hit. It had been five whole years. Five years of wondering what had gone so wrong without so much as a single hint of explanation.

“Why did you just ghost on me like that?” You asked, daring to break the safety net of the silence. Ethan recoiled, lifted his hand from yours and crossed his arms. Whatever it was, it was clear that he felt uncomfortable about it. So much so, he had to comfort himself.

“I was trying to protect you. You were so oblivious to the way that I was treating you, I relied on you to break me out of a deep sense of grief that I was experiencing. No adult should have to deal with that, never mind a fucking child.” He mumbled, voice shaking.

“I feel so bad for what I did. I know it’s no excuse for it, but I was young and naive. I loved you more than anything. You kept me grounded and actually reminded me in my darkest times that it was alright to like myself, because of how much you adored me.” He continued. A sheepish grin spreading over his face.

You didn’t really know how to comprehend what he was telling you. It was certainly a massive relief on your part that he was willing to be so open without you having to prod too much to extract the information that you needed from him.

“So why did you want to get this done now?” You inquired.

“Because it’s time for the both of us to move on… properly.” He responds, matter of factly. You tried to not let the punch that his words served you with show on your face. But, Ethan knew you better than anyone. He was definitely able to see that something was up.

“Listen Y/N… a wise person once forced me to watch their favourite spoken word poem. If I remember correctly, it goes something along the lines of, ‘love arrives exactly when love is supposed to and love leaves exactly when love must’. We’ve both been holding on to each other for so long.” He confessed.

“I remember that. I thought spoken word poetry was for geeks though.” You jested, trying your hardest to lift the mood. Ethan laughed, his belly laugh, the one you had etched into your memory from the moment you first earned one from him. It was bitter-sweet, although you loved hearing it, deep down you knew that this would be the last time you ever would.

“Yeah it is. But I suppose when you love someone you try and get into their interests, geeky warts and all.” He smiled, regaining his composure.

As the afternoon went on, you shared jokes and reminisced about your adolescence together. Five years ago, you would have never comprehended that closure could feel this good.

Soon enough, the conversation weaved its way back into a silence.

“How did the end of that poem go?” Ethan asked. The pain now evident on his face. It was hard for the both of you. You both understood just how pivotal you were to each other’s understanding of life in its purest form, from way before the adult worries of bills and jobs had made themselves apparent. Letting go of that, meant letting go of your childhood in essence.

“If love leaves, ask her to leave the door open behind her. Turn off the music and listen to the quiet.” You offered. The poem that you had enjoyed for many years now plaguing and haunting you as you sat in front of the man you had loved from the sidelines, for years.

“I just want to thank you for everything you were to me. But most importantly, thank you for stopping by.” He whispered, leaning forward to kiss you on the cheek, before scraping his chair back on the concrete.

As he walked away, you knew it was over. But you were comforted by the fact that the next time love rolled around, you would have the door wide open, freshly baked cookies on the side for them to have as a midnight snack. You would be ready.

[imnotrevealingmyname]

When A God Gets Lost

Chapter 1

Summary: There are bad ways to travel; then, there are terrible ways to travel. Teleporting to another dimension through the Æther is the latter, apparently. But as the old Bengali adage goes, even tigers will eat grass when they're starving.

Maybe a Midgardian from a different dimension isn't such a bad travel companion after all.

Author's note: This is my submission for the @allaboardthereadingrailroad 's Marvel Diversity Challenge. The OFC is an Indian- a Bengali, more specifically.

Tags: @what-just-happened-bro @is-it-madness @myraiswack @green-valkyrie @teenagereadersciencenerd @ohdearhiddles @whatafuckingdumbass @poetic-fiasco @mrs-wolfhard @your-favourite-skittles @lehuka123 @kellatron55 @shiningloki @latent-thoughts @outlawangel2020 @loki-yoursaviourishere

Warnings: Gore, mild violence, mentions of death.

Loki had known this would come to pass. He had known what he had signed up for, when he'd agreed to accompany Thor to Svartalfheim.

He'd even welcomed his own death.

At the time, the sweet prospect of release had seemed to be a gift from Valhalla.

So he hadn't tried to stop it from happening.

Except, he had.

Blood dripping from his mouth, Loki struggled to let go of strings of seiðr desperately anchoring him to his body.

Dust settled on his mottled blue skin. His ears were ringing, and blacks spots seemed to have been tattooed into his retinas.

If not for the pain, Loki would've laughed at the irony of the situation. Once again, despite all his orchestrations, he was a helpless spectator, strung tight while instincts battled brain.

White hot pain seared his entire body, radiating from the wound to his extremities, as he fought to make the tendrils of seiðr retreat. Unfortunately, it was tied to his genes, bound intricately to the essence of his consciousness. It kept him from slipping into the much anticipated slumber, tightening its hold exponentially.

Numbly, Loki thought of all the times he had heard people talk about life flashing before one's eyes before the final rest settled in.

Loki saw nothing, however. The only thing that passed before his eyes was the dreaded vision of violet sparks of seiðr curling around his own, slowly drawing his life force from him.

The salt of his tears mixed with the metallic tang of blood in his mouth. This helplessness was something he had vowed to never fall into, ever again. But here he lay, defeated yet victorious, in a veritable stream of his own blood, fighting the very instincts that had brought him thus far in life.

Odin, Frigga, Thor… Asgard. They had all taken everything from him, everything he had ever treasured. Self worth, family, his very identity…

Loki had hoped that he could find it in death. Who he really was.

But no, he had been stripped of that luxury, too. Not once, not twice… several times. Twice at his behest, and several times at another's, humiliated and agonized.

Maybe I should stop fighting.

But that wasn't who he was. Loki may not have known who he truly was, but he knew what he wasn't. He had never been one to stop fighting.

But what am I fighting for? Will this right my transgressions? Their transgressions?

Maybe sometimes… to stop fighting was to land the ultimate blow.

Gasping for breath, pain ripping his innards to shreds, he looked down at his midriff. There it was; his seiðr. The only measure of identity he had left. It was flowing from his fingers, from his mouth, weaving between his wounds, holding him together in every sense.

Loki's head fell back as he gave in to it, letting his instincts take over.

He didn't know how much effect his seiðr would have, but seeing as he couldn't do anything about it, apparently…

Unfortunately, he had underestimated the power of his own magicks. Seiðr, in every form, was sentient in its own right. Unbeknownst to Loki, continuous exposure to two infinity stones had affected his own magic in several subtle ways. Seiðr learns from itself and grows- he had learnt this even before he knew how to speak complete sentences.

Never had he thought that magic of such cosmic levels could mingle with his own.

Until he saw a few straggling fragments of the Æther hovering around his limp form.

In its urgency to revive him, his seiðr had drawn the Æther to itself, having turned into something resembling a magnet for cosmic powers.

To his horror, the bloodred fragments of the Æther clustered around him, forming a small tornado of dust and seiðr, swooping in to throw an eerie light over him.

The light only grew in intensity. The pain was lessening- his body was almost completely numb now. Wind howled in his ears, and flashes of green and red blinded him.

Satisfied with its work, his seiðr rose to greet the Æther.

Loki had been completely pinned to the ground. He struggled to look down, and saw that the wound had healed almost all the way through- enough to let him survive.

Immediately, he tried to draw back the seiðr. Enough damage had been done, he didn't need any more adventures.

The seiðr had other ideas, apparently.

Green and red danced together, shimmering and singing a shrill, haunting tune that rattled Loki to the core, producing a stab of pain in his gut.

Oh. His seiðr could only do so much. The spear that had impaled him must've been poisoned…

Which meant that his control over his seiðr was limited, and it knew it.

And thus, it was trying to regain strength by sapping it off the one of the most dangerous entities in all of the Realms.

Unlike normal seiðr, the Æther- as well as the other Infinity Stones- needn't be bound to an individual. They had their own separate existence.

Loki didn't even want to know what might happen if it bound itself to him.

Unfortunately, the velocity of the mingling magicks was growing, forming a pitch black void above him.

Fuck.

A sound of surprise and shock was the last thing that left his mouth before he was sucked into the vortex.

A deep rumble ran through the entirety of Svartalfheim when the dust settled- almost as though the Realm heaved a sigh of relief.

----

Aakshya's head hurt. Half an hour on the Arambagh local train with two three year olds bawling their lungs out less than two metres away could do that to anyone.

The last few days weighed down on her. It was all so surreal. Her last living relative- the last one she had been on good terms with, anyway- was gone.

Aakshya sighed softly, adjusting her glasses as her eyes filled with tears. She blinked them away. It wasn't surprising, not really. Her great aunt had been quite aged, but losing her was still a blow she wasn't quite prepared to deal with.

At least here, she could mourn in peace.

The Chandur forest had always been her happy place. After very long weeks at work, she had a habit of spending the weekend in a small resort here, sometimes. It was just quiet enough to help her recuperate.

The resort was still half an hour away. She decided to take her time today.

The sky was darkening, and she could see the moon through the spaces between the canopies of the trees.

The moon seemed larger today. Or maybe that was just the tears in her eyes.

She sped up a little, a prickly feeling spreading over her nape.

Were the trees rustling a bit more than usual? No, that must've been the wind… right?

Aakshya stopped dead in her tracks, clutching her bag tightly.

To her right, someone stumbled in the dark, groaning deeply and uttering a string of incoherent words in a language she couldn't recognize.

Maybe it was just the owner of the resort... Though why would she be here? Wouldn't she be at the resort itself?

"Sukanya Di, tumi?"she called out timidly. "Tumi ekhane ki korcho?" Is that you, Sukanya? What are you doing here?

She whipped around, frightened.

The sight that greeted her eyes was unnerving.

A blue-skinned, armour-clad man, covered in blood, was half sprawled on the ground, chest heaving as he struggled to rise.

The weirdest thing was that he was surrounded by red and green light that seemed to be trying to enter his body.

Aakshya stumbled backwards- but then she yelped when the man's hand shot forward and grabbed her upper arm, preventing her from fleeing.

"What is this place?"he rasped, using her as support to pull himself up to full height. Aakshya's eyes widened- he was over a foot taller than her, and he seemed to have been impaled clean through his chest.

Judging from the blood, the wound was fresh; but it was already closing in front of her eyes.

What in the world-

"I asked you something, mortal,"he snapped, shaking her a little. It affected his balance, apparently, because he swayed dangerously, catching himself by steadying himself against a nearby tree.

"Are you- is this some kind of a prank?"she squeaked, trying to pry his fingers off of her.

The man growled, and then coughed up a little more blood. "Answer the bloody question, girl."

"Earth, we're on Earth,"Aakshya managed, now fighting to get out of his hold. "Unhand me, you-"

If the fact that a man who had been impaled quite recently was stronger than her was a matter of concern, it didn't strike her then, as she attempted to scratch and bite him. The man merely grunted in annoyance, retaliating by giving her another shake.

"You're lying,"he snarled. "This cannot be Midgard."

"I don't know what's going on, but-"

"Unless… no…" He seemed to be speaking to himself now, though his scarlet eyes were on her.

It was completely dark now, and Aakshya was in the hold of some creep in a forest.

Well, I'm fucked.

----

Loki couldn't believe how bad his luck was. His chest stung with every laboured breath, and the Æther was still swirling around him, and now he had been transported to a different dimension.

He could feel it.

Which meant…

There were two of him in this dimension alone.

Oh, fuck.

Meanwhile, the girl was still trying to free herself from his grasp.

Loki gave her a crooked grin. "Looks like you're stuck with me now."

She gave him a look of outrage. "No, I-"

"What's your name?"

She seemed to quell under his gaze. "Aakshya."

"Pretty name. I'm Loki, God of Mischief and Father of Magick."

Aakshya scowled, trying to hit him. "Look, if this is some weird cosplay thing, I'm really not in the mood-"

Loki sighed, using the dredges of his seiðr to still her. "Girl, I've been impaled with a poison tipped spear and thrown into a different dimension, so I'm not in the mood for your tantrums."

Her eyes bulged with rage and she tried in vain to bite him.

"How about you and I go on a nice little walk, hmm? I can sense your loneliness and heartache, girl. I am very perceptive,"Loki said with a small smirk. "I can help you, if you help me. What say you?"

"I say you're a dangerous, senile man who's a bit too obsessed with mythology,"Aakshya spat, struggling to move.

Loki laughed softly. "Oh, but a little danger never hurt."

[realisticallystan]

I Can’t Leave Them -- JATP x Reader

Warnings: contains death(s), angst, major depression ++ JUST SAD OK, slightly unedited but can probably do a rewrite a week or two after I posted this. 

Song I listened to while writing: 

- Beginning of the End Movement V (The Newton Brothers) + used for death scene

- Somewhere Only We Know (slowed)

(A/N: Idk why I wrote this but it felt really cathartic and it’s how I imagine it would be if someone was friends with them or anything and had to be there when they died... apologies cause this sh*t is sad) 

-

-

-

She woke up in a start, heart racing as she fought to catch her breath. Her eyes closed as she held a hand to her chest, feeling the quick beat under the soft skin there, moist with sweat.

“Not that night…” She whispered softly, shaking her head gently. She couldn’t help the frustration she felt with herself, for letting herself think she could sleep a single night without going back to that day.

As her eyes opened, she felt the tear gently weld up in the corners, moments away from dropping. The cause being the harsh remembrance that he was gone. Her person who made her feel so peaceful, so present and undeniably content in her day to day.  She often wished she could have him be here, to hold her through the grief, the grief of losing him, but that was impossible.

She knew it was.

Yet she hoped she could see him, feel him, even smell his woodsy scent; riddled with hints of pine and oak. She never really could figure out how he had always used to smell so enticing, but he always was surprising her.

Even till the last couple of minutes before… he was gone.

She sucked in a breath, curling her legs up to her chest and letting her hands rest on her knees. She could still see it so vividly.

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

Y/N stopped outside of the studio, feeling the gentle, warm breeze kiss her skin as she listened to the boys all chattering loudly over each other from inside. They were laughing heartily and she could make out a small thud before the double doors swung open just enough for one boy to walk out. Her eyes quickly met his blue ones as he stopped outside and let the doors close behind him. She produced a small wave as he moved slowly to lean back against the now closed doors, taking in her appearance of some comfortable mom jeans, sneakers, and a black Sunset Curve t-shirt. She by all means looked ordinary, but the way he looked at her made her feel like she was everything and more.

“Hey gorgeous, how you doin?”

He had nodded at her in greeting, and it made Y/N try to fight back her smile, her lips itching to form a goofy smile that only he could give her. She never could fight her smile with him. He had this effect on everyone, and never failed to charm the people around him.

“Just dandy Lucas.” She teased with a small smirk, looking at the boy who practically bounced his way over to her as he walked. He was radiating so much energy, since today was their biggest day in their whole lives. It was their time to shine.

He neared her quickly and stopped about an arm’s length away, frowning at her with crinkled eyebrows.

“Hey, hey!” Luke pouted, shaking his arms in rejection. “I refuse to be called that and you know that, you she-devil.”

This had made Y/N scoff, jokingly of course, never once had the guitarist ever truly upset her .

“If you weren’t performing a major, life-changing gig tonight,” She raised her eyebrows and pointed at him. “I would not hesitate to punch you.”

“Aw,” He grinned cheekily, swooping down to press a soft kiss to her cheek.

“You do care.”

Now, that did draw an eye roll from Y/N, and she found herself heading towards the house to get a water bottle before going to watch them rehearse. She had heard his jogging steps as he came up beside her and walked with his arm wrapped securely around her shoulders as he followed her lead to the house. As they did this, she felt glad to be in this moment, it felt so human, and right.

It felt like she could live in this feeling forever.

He was as loyal and true as he could be, he owned it even. Y/N wished she could just live as freely as he did but how could she, she was not as confident as him, but oh how he brought out the very best in her. So she was told by all her friends, the boys, and her parents.

“What is on that busy mind of yours?” He questioned, hitching himself onto the counter as he took in the oddly empty house. It never was quiet around here, but nobody minded. It was always something that felt natural to them.

She could go on for days how grateful she was for them being supportive and even letting them store water in their fridge for days like this. Rehearsals before the big moment.

The Orpheum.

“Tonight is going to change our lives!” She explained with amazement, in almost disbelief that this was really happening to them. She loved every boy as her own family, but with Luke… that was something everyone knew was different. Everyone knew that they were meant for each other.

“You are all so amazing Luke,” She finally placed all of the water bottles on the counter, deciding to grab one for all of them. “You deserve this, and… I love you.” She hesitated, but let it flow. It felt right, natural even, so who was she to stop it.

“You love me?” He smiled, sliding off the counter and slowly coming up to her. Y/N thanked the stars that the homeowners were away for the week, heart thudding against her chest. She felt his calloused hands grab hers, letting his forehead come down to rest against her own.

“So much,” She laughed breathily, causing him to chuckle too.

“I love you too,” Luke whispered. “All I want to do is see that gorgeous smile each day and make you laugh, at least once. That is my mission.” He spoke with admiration, making her feel like she was completely his.

And she was.

Luke brushed his lips against hers before capturing them in a kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she kissed him back gently, projecting all the love she could into it. He grinned and deepened the kiss, not hesitating to make her feel all the love he felt for her.

“As nice as this is,” Y/N pulled away softly, causing Luke to try and chase her lips with his, but she giggled and moved back. “We need to prepare for the Orpheum, it’s in a couple hours so we should really--”

“-Get going,” He raised an eyebrow at her knowingly. “It’s all good, I hear you.” He poked at her, moving to grab most of the waters she left out on the counter. She was thankful he did that, because Y/N knew she would drop them if she even attempted to do that on her own.

“Yes, exactly, rockstar. You catch on quick.” She praised with an amused tone, grabbing the last bottles as they walked out of the kitchen side by side, continuing to chat about their setlist.

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

They had just finished their soundcheck, and it was one of the best times they had played, by far. She noticed how they all were just full of energy and it had to be the excitement of the show. Y/N was watching from near the bar and while singing, Luke managed to catch her eye and wink gently at her.

Yet now, Y/N suddenly felt fear as the guys finished chatting on stage and came down, heading directly towards her.  She managed to catch the mischievous glint in their eyes before they nodded all in agreement, suddenly running towards her with determination. Y/N shrieked and slid off her barstool, stumbling a bit, which would cause them to catch her almost instantly.

“Ew.. ew, you guys are all completely sweaty!” Y/N squealed, hoping to hurry by the four rowdy boys and away from their outstretched arms, but she found no such luck.

She groaned in mild disgust at feeling their sticky skin press against hers, but ultimately she gave in, letting them smush her in the middle of their group hug. While it was not her favorite hug  from the boys, she couldn’t help but happily sigh internally at how nice it felt.

“You guys killed that!” Y/N clapped as they pulled back and gave her some room.

“Right?” Reggie grinned, running a hand through his hair for adjustment. “I was worried I would trip over the wires and fall into Luke but it worked out in the end.” He spoke with animation and relief, causing Y/N to pat his arm, smiling at him.

“Good job hun.”

Reggie pouted at the nickname, feeling as if he was a child she assumed. She tended to mother him sometimes but he never complained and she knew the raven-haired boy enjoyed her presence just as much as the guys’ at gigs. Y/N had known him since around kindergarten and they grew up as best friends, they were quite an odd pair she was told. He had so much confidence and was always running around, eyes full of wonder as he always found something to enjoy.  While Y/N was definitely a little bit sensitive; she loved endlessly, was sarcastic and was very funny too, always making the boys smile somehow. When they first met, Reggie had seen the girl get shoved by another kid, she had fallen and had let a small tear run down her cheek in embarrassment. It wasn’t until a hand came into her view that she looked up and saw him, there with a smile and she felt safe. He was basically her brother and she had felt it since that day. If he made her feel safe, she vowed she would do the same for him.

“You know what I mean.” Y/N  nudged her shoulder against his, a knowing smile drawn on his pale face. Their inside jokes just coming straight to both minds, no doubt. 

“Yeah yeah” He teased, when the guys suddenly turned in Y/N’s direction, multiple sets of eyes falling onto her form

“Y/N,” Luke spoke first. “Odds you want to come get street dogs with us?

“Yeah, please do.” Alex chimed in.

“Bobby is chickening out.” He finished with a pointed stare at the mentioned boy. 

You know he was kidding but his expression did seem to hold some truth behind the annoyance. It is important for bands to bond and really get along with each other, so you could see his side.

“Shut up..” Bobby grumbled in denial, causing them all to laugh as he walked up to one of the workers, clearly trying to flirt with the pretty girl with beautiful dark skin and an enchanting smile.

Y/N could see his reasoning for being enamored, she was a truly gorgeous girl, but boy did he not have a chance. He was not good with the flirting, and she had seen him try many different times, all of which had not succeeded.

Goodluck dude, she thought and shook her head as he continued his escapade.

“Well,” Y/N clapped her hands together. “I kind of ate dinner on the way here but I do not want to watch that fall apart, so I’ll just tag along.” She shrugged, watching Luke slip his warm layers on in preparation for the damp alleyway.

“Can’t say no to that.” Alex shrugged and led the way, the rest of the group following after him. Y/N had easily slipped her fingers in between Luke’s and they walked hand in hand with the boys. She could feel his hand squeeze hers ever so gently, causing her heart to skip in her chest.

This boy… I swear. She thought, fighting back her smile and shaking her head.

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

“Do you think I should tell him I spilt pickle juice on his cables?” Alex questioned quietly, looking Y/N in the eyes with silent guilt. She raised a hand to cover her mouth as she shook with laughter, the sound muffled by her hand thankfully.

She took a deep breath and glanced back at the man grilling.

“It’s kind of his fault for serving them out of the back of his car.” Y/N pointed out, shrugging at the  small mess Alex made. It did not seem like a big deal really, it would dry.  

He sighed and shook his head at you. This was not the first time Y/N had claimed someone got what they deserve and he usually was at the end of it, dealing with the little pranks the rest of the group pulled. Sure, they were also targeted against others, but Alex was always the favorite. This was simply because he tended to have the best reactions and it would make the prank all the better by the end.

That being said, even though she teased Alex, Y/N knew she could count on him for anything. She was nervous earlier in the kitchen, and hours later she still found herself feeling like something was off, something felt wrong. She was not one to say that she felt like something bad was going to happen, but she was anxious for sure. Y/N had just hoped this night would go smoothly, and follow the general plan she had created in her mind.

Perform.

Be Signed.

Party.

And lastly, become legends.

That’s what she had hoped for her boys.

“Uhm, Alex, ” She addressed him, walking beside him as they walked to the seating area. Luke and Reggie ahead of them and both laughing loudly about something the other said.

Alex stopped and looked down at her, being the one with the most height advantage in comparison to you. He could see this look in her eyes, one he knew he felt quite often. She was feeling anxious.

“Hey, tell me what’s going on.” He asked quietly, glancing back at the boys and seeing that they were still occupied. He knows how they sometimes miss signals, so he was glad to see that they were busy and are not likely to insert themselves into the conversation. It was clearly private from the way they had their backs to the boys.

“I’m not even performing... and I feel so nervous.” She confided, she was peering up at him, trying to keep her composure.

“Just a weird feeling in my stomach about something, I suppose.”

Alex used his free hand to reach out and rest on her shoulder, the weight of it being oddly comforting to her. She felt some tension leave her body as Alex, the boy who always seemed a bit anxious,  reassured her with ease.

“It’s okay to be nervous you know,” He chuckled, catching her eyes and she noticed that they showed no signs of lying, and that is how it’s always been. He can trust Y/N, and Y/N trusts him, so he would tell her just about anything.

“We are so close to performing. You just want us to succeed. That can be nerve-wracking, especially since you support us more than anyone.” He smiled, pulling his hand off of her shoulder, but making sure to give a comforting squeeze before that.

Y/N always appreciated Alex’s listening, he always paid attention. He always made sure everyone was okay, and never misses a sign of  distress.

“Now, come sit with us on this dirty couch while we eat these hot dogs, okay?” He nodded his head in the direction where the other two sat, the pair looking over at the two and waving them over. She knew he was right, because Alex was never generally wrong, but also because the instant she saw the other two boys she felt her chest ease up. It was like it felt easier to breathe.

Y/N smiled in agreement, nodding before walking with Alex to the seats. Y/N had sat between Luke and Alex, all four of them managing to fit onto the beaten down couch with some ease. Reggie leaned forward, looked around Luke and at Y/N happily, his hands cradling the hot tub in his hands.

“What were you guys chatting about?”

“Eh girl stuff, and since Alex is the only one with a sister, he is my only viable option.” Y/N shrugged, lying seamlessly. Alex smiled widely and nodded in agreement, managing to make it seem natural. He was never the best liar, even more so around the band since they all spend so much time together… they really get to know little things, like who is a bad liar.

At this moment, Alex didn’t see the point in lying but he also figured that there was no reason to expose the real conversation between him and Y/N so he just followed her lead.

“Okay, well now that that’s sorted.” Luke rolled his eyes playfully, Y/N bumping his side with her own at his remark. “We can really soak in the moments before we make it big.”

Y/N had sat on the musty old couch, watching Luke talk with this passion in his eyes. His hoodie was drawn over most of his soft, brown hair. She could not recall just how many times she had run her fingers through the dark locks, and would mostly do it to see Luke slowly fall asleep in a matter of minutes.

“This is awesome you guys.” Luke gnawed at his bottom lip, shaking his head in disbelief, but anyone could see the happiness he felt as he really absorbed the atmosphere and situation. The boys were also following along, hotdogs forgotten as they listened to the boy who never failed to shine, spoke with so much pride about them finally making it.

“We’re playing the Orpheum!” He beamed, Y/N’s breath had caught in her throat at just how purely happy and carefree he was, how they all were in that moment. “I can’t even count how many bands have played here, and ended up being huge.”

Luke took a second to really glance at all his friends that were present. With Y/N smushed into his side, he could feel her pressed against him and she was almost sure he could feel heartbeat skip when she just watched him look around. He then made eye contact with the two boys on either of his sides and Y/N did not miss the look he shared, the one of true brotherhood and love. He was glad that if he was going to be doing this, that it would be with them.

“We’re gonna be legends.” He breathed out, suddenly catching Y/N’s eyes as he smiled brightly down at her. He pressed a quick kiss to her lips, causing her to giggle quietly. She could feel the gentle pressure of his lips against hers still and she loved it.

“Ew.” Alex winced, looking at them, but was clearly only saying this to tease the two lovebirds.

“Shut up.” Y/N rolled her eyes and elbowed him in the ribs, she didn’t use very much force behind it so he could just lean away and Alex had then poked her in the rib for payback. She hated being tickled so she was glad it was only a single poke to the side.

“Hotdogs up boys.” Luke intercepted, all of the group remembering that they had been in the middle of something. “After tonight… everything changes.”

The three boys all held their hotdogs up, and Y/N had to lean back a little to not be in Alex’s arm path. They tapped their hot dogs together in toast before each one took a huge bite. Y/N had not missed the confusion in each of their eyes, the chews slowing down for each of them as they glanced at the hotdogs in their hands.

“Uhm,” Alex spoke through a full mouth, causing Y/N to grimace a little from the sight of it. “That’s a new flavor?”

“Oh chill man, street dog’s haven't killed us yet.” Reggie had countered, taking another small bite. She knew he could be a little clueless sometimes so she glanced over at Luke to gauge his reaction, and he seemed to have an uncomfortable look on his face. Y/N frowned a little when she noticed and grabbed his wrist that held the hotdog.

“Hey babe,” She spoke up softly. “You don’t have to keep eating that if it tastes weird. We can always grab a slice of pizza instead?”

Luke had sat there for a second, letting her hold his wrist for probably thirty seconds, before brushing it off as just a new type of meat being grilled. He smiled down at her and pulled her hand off, pressing a kiss to the back of it before letting go.

“Already got this guy right here,”  He pointed out before taking another generous bite of it. Y/N snorted and shook her head before leaning her head on his shoulder. The boys all chatted between bites, and she would laugh at the jokes being made.

She distantly recalled her thoughts from earlier, and she was right, indeed.

It felt like she could live in this feeling forever.

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

Only...

It didn't last forever.

She didn’t know what happened, or why it was so fast, but it happened. It didn’t wait for her to be ready, didn’t even let her realize the situation. It was so sudden when Luke leaned forward in pain, groaning as he let the last bit of hot dog drop from his hand. Y/N watched in confusion before he slid off the couch and onto the floor, hunched over on his knees. The other boys were just as confused as Y/N and quickly went to move to his side before they too felt an ache. Something they were not used to at all. It felt so different than anything they had experienced in their lives. She would have asked what was wrong with them, but Luke crying out in pain stole her attention, voice breaking.

“Y/N, it hurts.”

“Oh my god.” Y/N gasped before beginning to panic, thus catching the attention of the patrons around her. Multiple people had turned their attention to the group, some even moving closer to see what was going on. There were concerned looks when people noticed a young boy on the floor and two others slowly hunching over.

“Luke!?’ She exclaimed with worry, falling to her knees beside the boy as he panted deeply, arms clutching his gut. He was sweating like crazy and his skin had gone pale, his hair was sticking to his forehead as he squeezed his eyes shut in pain. She sucked in a shaky breath at his appearance, never seeing him without his tanned glow and warm skin. Yet, as she cupped his face and tried to get him to look at her, he felt somewhat cold, his body shivering a little underneath her touch.

“Hey baby, what’s wrong? Hey…” She pushed, begging him to speak to her. She could fix this, she could figure out something if he could just answer her.

He let his eyes flutter open to look at her, but he couldn’t speak as he took shallow breaths.

“Someone call 911!” Y/N shouted desperately, pulling her gaze away from him and looking at the people around them.

There were two people around Alex, who had collapsed when he tried to stand. They were helping him  sit up and offered some water, but he was slowly starting to look just as bad as Luke was. He was able to talk but he had sounded nothing like he had moments ago.

“The…. food..” He breathed out heavily, pointing shakily at the discarded hotdogs along the floor.

“S-Something in them.”  He whispered weakly, head lolling to the side onto someone’s side. It was frantic after that, people running to try and get rags, water, and some even had gone to flag down the two ambulances when they came. She distinctly remembered singling out the one person yelling that there were two coming. Since all three boys would not fit in one.

Y/N was crying, hyperventilating, as she tried to stay on top of this and stay strong for them. She glanced back at Reggie and he was crying, eyes closed as his lips moved but she couldn’t make out what he was saying. There were people just everywhere, and she wished she could be everywhere.

With each of her friends.

There wasn’t enough of her to be able to hold all three as they worsened with each moment.

“I-I… wan-..” Luke coughed, Y/N then leaned down and touched her head to his, feeling his hand weakly rest on her thigh.

“What is it baby?” She whispered, tears cascading down her rosy cheeks as she ran her thumbs across his cheeks. She did it so softly, as if she would hurt him more if she touched him the wrong way.

“I… wanna go.. h-home.” He managed, sniffling as his breathing slowed, and Y/N would be lying if she said she couldn’t begin to feel it. To see it.

The way his life was slowly going away, the breaths becoming shallower as he fought to stay with her. With his friends and family. She sobbed as he said that, nodding her head as she pressed a kiss to his forehead. Mind wandering to Emily, his mother, who she wanted more than anything for her to be here right now with her son. He was scared. He just wanted to go home, pretend this was a dream. So did she.

“We can do that, let’s do that.” Y/N choked out. “Let’s go home ok?”

“Okay.” He had barely nodded before collapsing, head thankfully being held up by her hands.

Her eyes widened in disbelief at this sudden movement. She then started to lower his head onto her lap, and quickly brushed some of the strands of wet hair out of his face before gently tapping his cheek.

No response.

“Luke?” Another tap.

There was no movement from Luke. He laid eerily still in her lap.

She had felt herself holding her breath. She waited for what felt like minutes before letting her hand slowly rest on his chest, directly above where his heart was.

She waited. 

She waited for the familiar heart beat beneath her palm, but it never came.

His heart had stopped.

“No no no….NO!” She screamed, sobbing with quick breaths, wrapping her arms around his body and resting her head in his neck. Y/N would be damned if she let him go. She rocked him in her arms, not caring how heavy he was on her legs, she would take the pain if it meant he would just breathe.

“L-Luke, I love you so much, okay?” She whimpered out, before she had begun to sob again. “I-it’s... okay.” 

This time, the sobs came out so harshly, that after two minutes a couple sets of gentle hands were pulling her arms off of him, and she would try to fight, but she couldn’t anymore. She had no strength left. She felt every part of her body screaming and crying along with her, her chest aching with a pain she would come to be familiar with. The kind women who helped Y/N up began to back her away from Luke, both gently consoling her to the best of their ability and asking her questions about their parents. She unlocked her phone, wordlessly handing it to one of them, not bothering to stop the stream of hot tears running down her cheeks. They stung her cheeks as they touched the irritated skin on her face.

But, she didn’t care how she looked... she could only feel.

And it was consuming her whole.

“Alex? Reggie?” She cried, eyes wandering over the three boys’ bodies as paramedics checked them. She was suffocating as she watched and her nose was dripping. Her eyes would be puffy for days after this but it didn't matter in the moment as she watched them finish checking the vitals and eyes.

“This one has a heartbeat,” One of them announced, calling more helpers over to load Reggie into the ambulance. She felt some relief, but there was no real way to tell how this would turn out.

Y/N glanced at the other who was with Alex, and saw that he was doing chest compressions, hoping to bring some life back into the boy she had known for years. The boy who was just telling her that it would be okay.

She watched as another paramedic immediately called for Luke’s death. Y/N let out a loud cry when the man had waved over a gurney for Luke’s body. She fought against the people holding her, attempting to run over and bring him back into her arms. She couldn’t leave him.

She wouldn’t.

“No stop, where are you taking him!” She protested with concern, breaking free and falling to her knees beside her boyfriend. She held his hand in hers, lips quivering when she noticed he couldn’t squeeze her hand anymore.

“We’re taking him to the hospital.” The paramedic spoke with sympathy, eyes taking in her appearance. She knew she looked like a complete mess but that meant nothing right now.

“You can ride in the ambulance, do you wanna come with him?” He gestured with a nod of his head towards Luke, who she couldn’t bear to fully look at right now. Not if she needed to think clearly.

“Or with the other two?” Y/N glanced over at Alex still hanging on in between but now placed on a gurney being moved towards the ambulance, with which Reggie was already loaded up inside. 

They had a chance. Y/N knew she had to go, she couldn't leave her best friend alone. She had to be there for him. “We can come get you the minute you get there, if you want, and show you where he is.” The medic suggested quietly, seeing the wheels turning in Y/N’s mind. They were hoping to be some kind of voice in the midst of the fog of her mind right now, and she found herself hearing it.

“Okay.”

————————————-

Y/N glanced at the clock on her bedside table. She had a blurred recollection of the event, but it was still the worst night of her life. She knows no other event could top it. This was her trauma. Luke’s death had broken her, brought her down to her weakest and most grieved parts, but the ride in that ambulance was almost worse. If not tied.

They were six blocks away from the hospital when they stopped trying to resuscitate Alex.

If it weren’t for Reggie’s hand in hers, his pulse thudding weakly, she would have completely shut off. Y/N remembered how it felt like a complete joke, for one second, she thought this was some huge joke.

Then she remembered. 

Luke.

His body, his… heart not beating.

No breaths.  

No charming smile.

Just nothing left.

He was gone and she would never feel him, see him, or hear him again. Oh, how she wished she could hear him singing softly to her in bed, holding her close and brushing his fingertips across her arms. He would tell her these wild adventures that the boys went on together. All of them deserving the best and loving each other so much.

They were approximately one block away from the hospital when Reggie flatlined.

Y/N sat in the ambulance at the hospital, frozen in the seat with tears in her eyes.  She stayed until it was empty, the medic bringing her mom and dad inside the vehicle to help her out. They were carefully helping her up and out and guiding her, both having an arm, to the car. The boys had been taken inside, stripped of belongings, and waiting for their parents to be collected at their homes and brought in to see them or identify them. She doesn’t really know what happened after she left, and she was glad she didn’t.

Y/N doesn’t remember much from that night.

Just the main portions that took place, but never the specific details. She has tried to shut that night out, maybe only focus on the last good memories spent with each one of them. It was hard, she just couldn’t forget that night.

She had tried.

She went to therapy, homeschooled for a little, and tried to date but she couldn’t. She tried to live and move on, but you can never truly move on, is what she found.

They were her family. She loved them ... so much.

Luke was scared, and was gone so fast.

Alex had tried his best for as long as he could.

Reggie was so close to being saved.

And Y/N ... she considered herself a ghost, just like them, because that's how she felt everyday after.

[adenei]

Fake It Til You Make It - Ch. 5

AO3 || FFN

Ginny walked into the dining hall a few days after trials. She’d been doing her best to keep to herself and lay low to not attract any more attention. Harry seemed to be spending more and more time with the other boys on the team, and they never invited Ginny to join them, not that she cared. She spent her time getting to know the campus instead.

When she got bored, not to mention smelly enough, she’d catch a bus across town to visit the twins and shower at their place. The boy’s dorm showers were configured the same as the locker room, and Ginny couldn’t take any chances. Of course, now that classes had started, the time constraints wouldn’t allow her to take daily trips to the twins’ flat, so she needed to figure out how to shower at school. 

Ginny grabbed a sandwich and other various lunch items before searching for a table to sit at. She noticed Harry and the rest of the guys sitting across the room and decided to join them since there was an extra seat.

“Hey, my dudes, what’s up?” Ginny asked as she sat down.

They all stared at her for a moment before returning  to their conversation. Well, at least they didn’t get up and leave me here alone. She knew she sounded ridiculous, but part of her thought it was hilarious. It was worth all the flack she’d get from Ron once he returned. He needed some repercussions for taking off and leaving her to cover.

Ginny was drawn out of her thoughts when the boys grew quiet. She followed their stares to the food line where two girls in short skirts were swiping their meal cards. One of them looked like that girl Ginny ran into on her first day. Hermione, she remembered.

“Damn, they just keep getting finer with age, don’t they?” Seamus asked.

Ginny noticed that Harry had grown oddly quiet and slack-jawed. “Are you talking about Hermione? Oooh yeah, damn! That arse is fine, am I right?” Ginny said, thinking that’s what the guys wanted to hear.

“Hey! Don’t talk about her like that! She’s not a piece of meat,” Harry said defensively.

“Whoa, sorry,” Ginny backpedalled. “You into her or something?”

Nevile and Colin both snorted in laughter as Colin said, “Only for the last three and a half years.” 

Ginny looked at him. “And you haven’t made a move because…”

“She’s always had a boyfriend,” Harry sounded dejected.

“Yeah, but on the bright side, she and her college boyfriend are over now, so you’ll be able to swoop in and make a move when the time is right,” Neville reminded him.

“Why don’t you just go over and talk to her now?” Ginny was confused by their logic.

“Because she’s still upset over the break-up! Look how sad she is,” Dean sounded affronted.

“Yeah, you don’t just go over there and talk to the girl you’ve fancied forever. Especially if you don’t want to be the rebound,” Seamus agreed.

Ginny looked over at Hermione, who was now sitting at a table with her friend. Hermione happened to look up and lock  eyes with her. She flashed a smile, which Ginny returned.

“Whoa, did she just smile at you?” Colin asked.

“Uh, yeah?” Ginny said. 

“What the hell, man?!” Harry punched her in the shoulder.

“What? It’s common courtesy to smile back, isn’t it? I’m not trying to steal her away from you or anything.” She was surprised how defensive the guys were getting over one girl. 

“Aw, what the hell is he doing?” Harry said as he shook his head in defeat.

A guy with perfectly coiffed white-blonde hair and an impeccably starched uniform slid into the seat next to Hermione. Ginny saw her face immediately sour at his presence. Ginny commiserated with Hermione, who was doing her best to be polite, even though it was clear that she wanted nothing to do with him. Been there, Ginny thought.

“Who is he?” Ginny asked.

“Draco Malfoy. The most obnoxious goody-two-shoes in our year. He’ll literally do anything to get what he wants,” Neville explained.

“Ah,” something about the blonde bloke was rubbing Ginny the wrong way.

Draco must have said the wrong thing to Hermione. No sooner had he sat down and attempted to engage her in conversation, Hermione gave him a disgusted look, got up with her friend and walked away. All the guys at Ginny’s table laughed at his failed attempt as he shot them a nasty look.

“So, who’s looking forward to the Beauxbatons game?” Ginny changed the subject.

The group eyed her. “It’s just another game. We’re going to crush them like we always do,” Harry shrugged.

“Yeah, but it’s the season opener. Personally, I think it’s rubbish that I got put on second string. I really wanted a chance to kick their arses,” Ginny complained.

“Why do you care so much?” Harry asked.

“Oh, uh, my sister goes to Beauxbatons. Michael, her prat of an ex is on the team.”

“You have a sister?” Dean asked as Ginny nodded.

“Wait, which one’s her ex?” Seamus asked.

“The goalie and team captain.”

“Oh, that twat? He picked a fight with me last year,” Harry said. “He’s a joke, honestly. Thinks he’s God’s gift to football, yet he couldn’t stop any of my goals.” All the boys laughed in agreement.

“What’d your sister see in him anyway?” Dean asked.

“Not sure. He was a prick. She’s better off without him. So, what are you going to do about Hermione? Better get a move on. Otherwise, someone else is going to tap that before you get a chance. Am I right?” Ginny waggled her eyebrows. 

She thought she was reading them accurately, but all the boys just shook their heads and stood up to leave. Despite growing up with a household of brothers, Ginny was beginning to think she would never get the hang of ‘being a guy.’

It was almost midnight when Ginny decided to take a chance and head for the showers. The halls were quiet, and she hoped that since they had classes the next day, most of the guys were finally getting to sleep. Thankfully, the bathroom was blissfully empty, and Ginny sighed in relief. She started unwrapping the binder and set it on the counter as she spread her bag of toiletries and things about. Unfortunately, her solitude was short-lived.

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

Ginny jumped back in surprise and looked up to see the blonde-haired bloke staring incredulously at her. Thank goodness she’d kept her robe on and hadn’t taken the wig off yet.

“Excuse me?” She responded.

“Your stuff is everywhere!” he scoffed, picking up her towel between two fingers and tossing it at her.

“I...didn’t know that was a violation of anything?” Ginny retorted.

“Yes, it’s under code 31.7: Bathroom Etiquette,” he shot back.

Ginny lifted her hands in a gesture of mock defeat as she said, “Well, sorry, didn’t realize it’d be the end of the world if I spread my stuff out in a deserted bathroom.” She rolled her eyes.

“As you should be.”

She grabbed her things to go back to the room. Maybe four in the morning would be a better option. They’d all have to be asleep then, right? 

“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced yet. I’m Draco Malfoy, Dorm Director. It’d be best for you to stay on my good side if you know what I mean.”

Ginny could barely believe his nerve. She opened her mouth to tell him sod off when Harry walked in and overheard Draco’s warning to her. Draco didn’t hear him coming, and Harry lifted his towel and whipped Draco in the head with it. She couldn’t hide the chortle that escaped her lips.

“Leave him alone, Malferret,” Harry said. “No one cares about the rules in the dorm handbook.”

“You say that until you break one of them and get kicked out!” Malfoy defended.

Harry waved him off as Ginny said, “Well, this has been a riveting conversation, but I’ve got other places to be.”

She made a quick escape out the door as she longed for the day when she’d be able to shower when she wanted again. That night, Ginny fell into a fitful sleep filled with nightmares on the football field. Coach McGonagall called her onto the field, but she was dressed as her usual self. No, not just her normal self; she was wearing a poofy pink dress that she could barely run in, and Aunt Muriel was on the sidelines mocking her. She ultimately made a fool of herself, as everyone on both teams laughed  at her. 

When she woke up, she was ready to throw in the towel. None of this was worth it. She was stuck on second string, her teammates thought she was insane, and she couldn’t keep up with Ron’s coursework. Professor Flitwick could have been lecturing them in a completely different language for all she knew. She had no idea how to read music, and even after poring over the texts, she still had no idea what chords were.

Yeah, she was done. Having Ron fake an illness was the easier way to go. The twins would surely help her cover, right?

[floralfloyd]

Since I’ve Been Lovin’ You - Gwilym Lee

Hi! I’m finally getting round to posting my creation for @bluesfortheredj​ as part of the @queenandborhapevents​ writing event. I hope you love it as much as I love all your works. It was such an honour to be writing for someone I consider such an inspiration on here.

The tall welsh man sighed as he ran his hand through his hair, the frustration getting to him.  

An awkward silence fell over the two, the pale blue lounge clock ticking over the seconds that passed by. His girlfriend of three years, Khloe paced up and down, his words seeming foreign as she tried to process what he had said.  

“Please stop pacing...it’s not going to make anything any better or worse” he finally spoke up after a couple of minutes of silence.  

Exhaling a breath, the blonde turned to him, her eyes red from the tears she had cried before, now replaced with hurt and almost angry look. “Me stop? Me? You’re the one who has been acting weird for the past month and as soon as I ask you what’s wrong, you blow up in my face! Let me guess, you’re cheating, aren’t you?”

Gwil quickly stood from his seated position on the couch, his long legs carrying him to stand in front of the hysterical woman. “Cheat? Do you think so lowly of me that you think I’d cheat on you? I’ve already told you that work has been very stressful lately”

“I don’t think that lowly of you but the signs are all there. What else do you expect me to think, Gwilym!? You use work as an excuse all the time that now it just doesn’t cut it!”

“You knew exactly what you were getting into when we started dating, Khloe! I try my hardest to spend as much time as I can with you but all you do is make plans for other things and avoid me” he ran a hand through his hair again “I don’t know what’s going on and what the problem is but lately I feel like all we’ve done is get further apart. We fight over the stupidest of things and you no longer show any emotion when I say ‘I love you’. It’s no longer a relationship, more like we’re roommates”

“So, what are you saying?” she looked at him, tears beginning to collect in the corner of her eyes.  

Gwilym took a deep breath as he worked through what he was about to say in his head before deciding it was for the best. “What I am saying is that I think we should go our separate ways before one of us hurts the other more. The past couple of years have been amazing but with time it has begun to fade and I don’t think I love you like I did when we first met.”

Khloe hung her head in defeat, she always knew this day was coming but could never come to terms with admitting it. “I understand...it was nice while it lasted. I’ll have your belongings packed and sent to your apartment.”

He nodded gently as he grabbed his jacket and phone “thank you and please, if you ever need anything, don’t forget I’m here for you.” with that said he carried his slender frame out the door.

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

It was that argument that had made Gwilym go to the only place he knew he would be welcomed with open arms, especially at nine fifty-seven at night.  

His knuckles, pale from the cold of winter, thudded against the solid oak door as he pulled his coat tighter around his athletic frame.  

Y/N had just sat down with a hot cup of tea on the couch, getting ready to watch Y/F/S. The thuds on the door taking her by surprise.  

Placing her cup down on the table beside her, she moved to the hallway to open the door.  

“Gwil! What are you doing here? Have you been crying? Here come in” she stepped to the side, ushering him inside “Let me get your coat, can I get you a coffee or a tea?”

“A tea would be nice thank you” he sniffled as he shrugged the heavy jacket off his shoulders so she could hang it up before moving to sit on the couch in the lounge.  

Y/N returned with a steaming hot cup of tea and a plate of freshly cooked Welsh cakes, Gwil’s favorites, and one of the many things he loved about her, the way you went out of your way to learn how to bake his favorite sweet treats.  

He quietly thanked her as he cupped the steaming brew between his cold hands, the tip of his nose rosy from the changes in temperature. He had never been a conflicted man but that day Charity had introduced you both on set and all the times you spent time together, even with the company of other friends, Gwilym Lee found himself falling more and more for Y/N.  

“What’s happened that you’re here all teary-eyed and cold?” she asked as she moved to sit beside him, her pale blue mug in hand. A mug that had come to be more of an accessory as it was always in the makeup trailer and never close to empty.  

“I-me and Khloe broke it off” he sniffled as tears began to form, he didn’t even understand why he was getting emotional over the situation as he was the one who was in love with someone else. “I just feel like we’ve grown so far apart that it’s no longer salvageable”  

She gave him a sympathetic smile as she rubbed his back once the mug had been placed down. Months before Y/N had been in the same position but she didn’t want to admit that she had felt for the man before her at the time, especially as he was in a very happy relationship or so it had seemed. “I’m so sorry, Gwil. These things happen and I know it's hard to let go but you’ll eventually find that special someone and this will all be a small memory that will mean nothing”  

The Welshman leaned into her comforting touch as he listened to what she was saying. He desperately wanted to admit why he decided to completely break things off with his girlfriend but didn’t want to face rejection. “Thank you, I knew that I could count on you not to turn me away and to make the best Welsh cakes a man has ever tasted, you’re the best Y/N/N!”

Y/N pulled him in for a hug “in the words of John Deacon, you’re my best friend” she grinned softly as his face lit up at her words.  

After the two pulled away from their embrace, Y/N settled into the couch to watch Y/F/S, a comfortable silence falling over the two.  

Gwilym occasionally glanced over at his friend admiring the way her Y/H/C hair contrasted against her Y/E/C. His breath taken away, it was getting harder and harder for him not to admit his feelings. Clearing his throat, he turned to his best friend.  

“Y/N, I haven’t been fully honest with you on why me and Khloe broke up and you deserve to know the truth” he spoke softly although he messed with a loose thread that dangled from his sweater.  

The girl turned to look at him with concern and worry, her eyebrow raised. “What do you mean you weren’t fully honest? You know you can tell me anything right, I’ll never judge you.”  

Gwil took a deep breath as he took a hold of her delicate hand “Yes me and Khloe broke up because we were drifting further and further apart but it would’ve been fixable but...” he glanced over at her  

“but?” she squeezed his hand to let him know he could continue  

“I...I was in love with another girl and I didn’t want to lead Khloe on and hurt her more than I already have” his gaze then moved to the floor. “and that girl is you...”  

“Me? You love me?” she was surprised but her heart began to thump as she lifted his chin so his ocean blues eyes met her Y/E/C “Why have you never mentioned this before? Gwil, I’m crazy for you and I didn’t want to ruin things between you and your girlfriend.”  

A sigh of relief left his lips at her words, his eyes flicked between her eyes and her beautiful plump lips. Taking his chance, the brunette male swooped in, smashing his lips against the young girls.  

Y/N let her eyes flutter shut as her hand moved from his chin to caress his stubble covered cheeks, she couldn’t believe what was happening, her best friend and the ultimate crush was kissing her.  

It would be cliché to say that Gwilym could feel the sparks radiate between the two as soon as their lips met. He knew from that moment it was the right choice and that she was the one.  

Pulling away he placed his forehead against hers “I love you, Y/N”

“I love you too, Gwilym”

[zackcollins]

tasted like an apple pie || frederik gauthier

masterlist

Author’s Note: I looked at my own request list and came up with this idea because I wanted to write. It was originally going to be Kevin Hayes... then my utter dumbass remembered that Frederik Gauthier actually bakes. F in chat for my idiocy. GIF credit goes to vitosfangirl!!

Warnings: There’s one sentence that mentions the situation everyone is in right now. If that’s something you’re avoiding reading about, I understand and have a nice day. As per the last one, I think this is really sweet and might give you diabetes.

Translations: There is some French in this fic. The first instance translates to: “Why the hell did you do that?” The second instance translates to: “Disgusting!” The third instance translates to: “Will you marry me?”

Word Count: 1.1k+

Title: Apple Pie Moonshine by Jake Owen

Additional: Gender-neutral reader this time!! I just kinda wrote this one and let the gender of the reader come with whatever I decided to write; I didn’t set a certain gender limitation. Whatever happened happened.

Additional 2: This is for anyone that saw the post about this fic and my computer. My computer is still being stupid and barely let me post something that I was tagged to post. So. I’ve decided to post this from my phone because I’ve changed my mind: I’m not waiting 80 years for my computer to cooperate with me. This fic is done now so I’m posting it now. If there are any spelling/grammar mistakes, please be kind because I can’t check them as easily on my phone as I can on my computer. I’ll try to go back and edit this post for spelling/grammar once my computer starts behaving again. Alright. That being said: I hope you all enjoy this!!

You were known for tossing and turning in bed at night; you always had trouble getting comfortable. Your boyfriend, Frederik, never had a problem with that. He could sleep through the apocalypse and never felt you shifting around for the most part. It was one of the things that made your relationship work; he never complained when you tossed and turned constantly. You had boyfriends in the past that would get so fed up with your constant tossing and turning that they would sleep on the couch. That ultimately led to the downfall of those relationships.

Tonight was a particularly bad night for your tossing and turning. It was hot in the apartment and you were sticky from the sweat that had accumulated on your body. When you tossed the comforter off, you sighed from relief. The rush of cool air from the air conditioner felt nice on your tacky skin. After taking a moment to grow accustomed to the cool temperature, you shifted to Frederik’s side of the bed; you wanted to cuddle with him. When you found empty space, you frowned. You glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand--2:04 am. You frowned again; Frederik didn’t usually get up in the middle of the night.

Sitting up in the bed, you ran a hand down your face. You cringed when it came off covered in sweat. Wiping it off on the comforter, you coughed momentarily because your throat had gone dry because you were still overheating. Sighing, you swung your feet around the bed and decided to head to the kitchen for a glass of water.

When you walked into the kitchen, you blinked. Frederik was standing at the island, a mixing bowl in front of him. He had a recipe card and a bunch of bags and cartons of various ingredients strewn across the top of the island; there was even a bag of apples sitting beside the sink on the countertop to the left of the island. Stella was curled up on her dog bed in the living room, sleeping peacefully as if what was happening in your kitchen wasn’t completely bonkers for this time of night.

“What’s all this?” You asked, motioning to everything in front of Frederik.

“I couldn’t sleep so I decided to make an apple pie,” Frederik said, not looking up from the flour he had been measuring.

You blinked as you slid into one of the barstools across from him. “Since when do you bake in the middle of the night?”

Frederik shrugged as he poured the flour into the mixing bowl. He grabbed the stick of Cisco and the knife, cutting the correct portion as per the recipe. “When you’re in quarantine that seems like it’ll never end, you do weird things to keep you entertained.”

He dropped the Cisco into the bowl before opening the carton of eggs. He cracked two of them into the bowl and placed the shells back into the carton. The next thing to go into the bowl was baking soda; he made sure to measure the correct amount, levelling it correctly in the measuring spoon.

He passed the bowl to you and smiled. “Since you’re here; go wash your hands so you can mix that.”

Nodding, you stood and walked to the sink. You scrubbed your hands thoroughly before you went back over to Frederik. He had grabbed another bowl and had begun putting the ingredients for the apple garnish together.

Mixing the ingredients for the dough together gave you a brilliant idea. Once the dough was at the consistency you wanted, you took some of it and rolled it into a ball in your hands. Glancing over at Frederik to make sure that he wasn’t paying you any attention, you lobbed the dough ball at him when it was clear that he wasn’t.

“Mais pourquoi diable me fait ça?” Frederik asked, though his voice didn’t sound angry in the slightest. In fact, he actually chuckled and reached for the bowl himself. He grabbed a handful of dough and smeared it in your hair.

You giggled and took some more dough, leaned across the island, and smeared it in Frederik’s hair. Frederik smiled as he grabbed a small amount of flour, blowing it in your face. You sneezed before glaring at him with a fond smile.

Reaching for the bag of flour, you accidentally knocked it over. It spilled onto the counter and caused a small cloud to puff out from the pile. Frederik coughed as he waved a hand in front of his face in an attempt to disperse the cloud. You took that opportunity to grab a handful of the flour and blow it into his glasses. Frederik made a comical face as he took them off to examine how dirty they were.

“Cheater!” He took one of his hands, cupped your face, and gently pushed it backward. You giggled the entire time as you licked a stripe along his hand. Frederik withdrew his hand and made a mock face of disgust. “Répugnant!”

You shrugged, smiling cheekily. “You put your hand there; it’s fair game.”

Frederik rolled his eyes as he wiped the flour from his glasses. When he was satisfied that they were clean, he placed them back on his face. He made an ah-ha face and you chuckled; he did that every time he put his glasses on. He wanted to be dorky about the fact that he could see clearer every time he put them on.

“Since we made a mess of the dough,” Frederik said, motioning to his hair and then yours. “Do you just want to mix this garnish into whipped cream and have ice cream?” He tipped the mixing bowl toward you to show you the garnish that was finished being mixed.

Nodding, you walked to the freezer. You pulled out the ice cream before closing the freezer and grabbing the can of whipped cream from the fridge. When you walked back to Frederik, he had managed to grab a couple of bowls and spoons.

He dished out the ice cream, whipped cream, and garnish into both bowls. He handed you your bowl and spoon before coming around the island to sit beside you.

The two of you ate in comfortable silence for a few moments until Frederik took his finger, swooped it through his ice cream, and smeared it across your lips. You darted your tongue out and licked the ice cream off.

“Tastes like apple pie,” you said.

Frederik smiled before he leaned over and kissed you. You kissed back, humming softly when you tasted the mixture of flavours on his lips.

When you pulled back, Frederik’s eyes were softer than you had ever seen them. It made your heart swell as you sat there, swirling your ice cream with your spoon.

Frederik grabbed your hands, rubbing your wrists. You stared fondly at him as he inhaled and exhaled shakily. He brought one of his hands up and brushed a piece of dough out of your forehead.

Then, with a voice so soft you barely heard it, he said words that would change your life forever.

“Veux-tu m’épouser?”

[sheabutterskyes]

The Mask of White Waters

XXVII | When Danger Comes Knocking

–

“Good evening.”

Isla’s head snapped up. She hadn’t been sitting there for long – she’d only meant to sit on the boulder long enough to search through her pack and adjust her shoes. Just at the edge of town, and having just left Caia’s company, another masked warrior wasn’t what she was expecting or hoping to see.

It was Lueth; their mossy green hair and long limbs familiar, even if the atmosphere surrounding them had changed. There was no unsettling silence, but there also lacked the calm that she normally felt around Caia.

“Hello,” she said evenly. “What brings you here today?”

They slowed, though didn’t stop, cautiously moving closer.

“They know you’re here.”

“Who?”

“Who do you think?” They sneered, stopping and glancing around. “You’re target, you know? Caia hasn’t exactly been quiet going about their business. It’s put you at risk.”

She gave them a hard look, noticing the dirt smudges and scratches on their once shining white mask.

“That’s why you came? To warn me?”

“You should split from Caia and come with me. Wouldn’t it be foolish to risk everything this far along?”

Unlike Caia, who often remained silent when they didn’t wish to give a straightforward answer, Lueth simply continued on, unbothered. She’d once wished that this was something Caia did – and now she was glad they didn’t.

“But you’re a masked warrior too,” Isla replied, keeping control of her tone of voice, not wanting to sound accusatory in any way. But she did need to be firm with this masked warrior. It was still unclear what it was they really wanted.

“Yes, but I do not stir up trouble as Caia does. You-,” they laughed, a smooth, lyrical sound that gave her chills, “you have no idea what exactly it is you are dealing with.”

Isla stood, “You mean Caia, don’t you?”

Lueth nodded and took one step back.

“The same could be said for you, couldn’t it?”

They nodded again, “Yes, of course. I’m not saying you should trust me. But I am saying that trust isn’t necessary to make the best decision when danger comes knocking.”

She took a step towards them, prompting them to move away some more.

“Consider it. And call for me if needed.”

They began to turn away.

“Wait,” Isla kept herself from taking another step. “How would I do that?”

“Go to the water,” they replied simply.

She nodded, mostly to herself, and watched them go. She hoped she wouldn’t need to call for them.

It wasn’t until the chill of the air began to creep through her clothes that she moved again, swooping up her pack and walking towards the forest. The ground was wet, sticking to her shoes and creating loud, messy noises as she went, re-tracing her earlier steps.

Lueth was nowhere to be seen, effortlessly disappearing from sight as Caia often did. But right now, it was Caia she was hoping to find, and she knew they couldn’t have gone far. It didn’t take long before the warrior’s familiar voice stopped her.

“What are you doing?”

Isla turned, “Looking for you.”

Caia’s head tilted slightly. They were standing beneath a tree, stance relaxed as if they had been standing there for a while.

“I spoke to Lueth,” she began, her voice suddenly faltering.

“Yes, I’m aware.” Caia’s voice was smooth and serene, without even a hint of annoyance or concern. “They asked me if they could speak to you.”

“Oh.” She tapped her fingers together, “I guess that’s why they acted as though you were watching and waiting for them to make a wrong move.”

“I was.”

Isla swallowed; they were not joking around.

“Did you hear what they said?”

“No.”

The masked warrior didn’t say anything else, making it obvious that they didn’t plan to ask what Lueth had said to her. That alone was enough to cause Isla’s thoughts to scatter. So, perhaps it was best left alone.

Movement behind Caia caught her attention – somewhere further along the path a person was coming their direction.

“I just… wanted to be sure you knew.”

She glanced between the masked warrior and the stranger, anticipating an uncomfortable situation if they remained where they were.

It took her no longer than a few seconds to make the decision to move. But rather than go back towards town she went deeper into the forest, only realizing her mistake and turning around awkwardly within clear view of the approaching person.

“Hey!”

She stopped, risking a glance over her shoulder. It wasn’t exactly relief she felt upon seeing who had called out, but an unsettling curiosity that made her turn again to face them.

“Kyran,” she raised her hand in greeting.

He slowed as he neared, his dark eyes searching the vicinity. She had to do a quick search herself, ensuring that Caia was out of sight – and thankfully, they were.

“They aren’t here,” she reassured. “Though I can’t guarantee they’re far.”

Kyran visibly relaxed.

“Are you staying here tonight?” She made a small gesture towards town.

“No. That – that wouldn’t be wise. Being an Envisioner and all…”

“Even though you’re not-,” she stopped herself there, her stomach dropping a bit with self-disappointment at what she was prepared to say.

“Even though I’m not- not like many of the others?”

It was worse that he knew what she was going to say, and she opened her mouth to apologize. But he shrugged and gave her a warm smile, “It doesn’t matter how I act. My affiliation will make people uncomfortable.”

“I didn’t mean to insult,” she offered feebly.

“I know that. But it’s the truth. I won’t deny that our - that our group has become problematic.”

And perhaps that is what made him different from the others.

“Believe it or – or not I, uh, I wasn’t born an Envisioner. Maybe that is why I view things a bit differently.”

Or maybe that was why.

“I didn’t know you could join them?”

“You can’t. They raised me, in part.” He glanced around again, becoming quiet for a moment.

“Please be – be extra careful in your travels. I think word of you and your travel partner may have spread by now, and you’re getting very close to our territory.”

“Do you think it’s safe for me to be staying in these towns?”

Kyran hesitated at that, but his answer was clear on his face before he spoke.

“I wouldn’t.”

Isla hoped that her disappointment didn’t show.

“At least, not alone. Staying close to the masked warrior may be best from here on out.”

“They’re going to love that,” she said with a short laugh.

Kyran smiled, “I’m sure they will appreciate the company. Really.”

She didn’t exactly agree, ultimately making the decision to stay in town. Just for this one last time.

Those who lived in town were wary, but not unkind. Isla was able to get what she needed without trouble and was on her way to an inn just as the sun began to set. A soft smoke weaved through the streets, carrying the scent of burning incense and evergreen. People walked about, some carrying baskets from the market and others grasping the hands of children as they tried to splash in puddles.

“Tahlè?”

Isla’s head turned at the sound of her native tongue, having not heard it since leaving for the lake of White Waters.

A woman leaning against the wall of a building was watching her, her features all too familiar.

“I thought that was you, Isla. I could spot you from a mile away with your golden hair and nervous hands.”

Her nails dug into her palms as her feet dragged to a stop in the middle of the path. The woman’s gaze didn’t shy away even when Isla remained silent.

“What are you doing here?”

Isla shoved her hands into her pockets, “What are you doing here?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” Her dark hair shimmered a deep red in the last of the sun’s rays, her eyes closing calmly for a moment in consideration.

She wanted to run – to turn and run into the forest. But she was afraid to move, feeling rooted to the spot as passersby moved around her. How the horrors of the past had found her here and now was too much to comprehend.

“You look rough,” she laughed. “Was the luxurious life of a dancer too dull for you? Had to take off into the forest and stay in towns like this for a little excitement?”

The woman pushed off the wall and came towards Isla.

“Don’t,” she breathed.

She stopped at that, tilting her head, “Got something to say?”

Isla had a lot to say. But she wasn’t about to draw attention here, this near to Envisioner territory. And to trigger whatever hostility may be lurking beyond the surface of this encounter also wasn’t what she wanted.

“I-,” a passerby bumped into her shoulder, pushing her forward and sending her stumbling away from the woman.

“I’m – I’m so sor-,”

Isla blinked up at Kyran, who had stilled with his hands reaching out as if to keep her from falling, looking just as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

“Oh, there you are,” Isla straightened up and looked him in the eye. “I thought I was going to have to apologize for being late.”

Glancing at the woman, Kyran shrugged, “You’re still – still going to have to apologize. I came, um, I came looking for you because you’re late.”

The woman stepped back, “Oh, you have a travel companion?”

Isla looked up at Kyran with a small smile. But he was loosening his scarf, turning his head just enough to reveal the tattoo on his neck.

“Friend of yours, Isla?”

“No,” The woman shook her head stiffly, eyes widening as she noticed the mark. “Was only asking for directions.”

“We need to be on our way now,” Isla said evenly. “I hope you find where you need to go.”

Kyran needed not a hint more, gently taking Isla’s elbow and moving away. They didn’t speak or look at the other until they had walked far out of sight from where they’d come from.

“I thought you’d be long gone by now,” Isla said softly.

He adjusted the scarf around his neck, “I ran into some trouble… seems like you did as well.”

“I think the trouble came looking for me.”

They stopped in front of the inn she had been meaning to go to, lingering around the corner and out of the way of the main road.

“You staying in town tonight?”

She shrugged, “I’m not sure anymore.”

“Why don’t you go ahead and get a, uh, room here. I’ll place a sigil on the door that will keep trouble out… at least until morning.”

Isla stared at him, wishing she had a better idea. But she was going to have to take advantage of his generosity once more; Caia didn’t need to know about this.

“Somehow saying thank you doesn’t seem like enough,” she said quietly.

“It’s enough,” Kyran replied. “You have enough to deal with as it is.”

“Can I pass in and out of the door as I please once the sigil is placed?”

“That’s a good question, and - and yes, you can. The only thing you - you need to remember is this: do not open the door if someone knocks.”

______________________

--> @alwolfesblog​ ;)

[cheshiremadd]

Superfluous

Chapter 1

AO3

Idea from a discord conversation that I’m fairly positive was started by @alexseanchai

Adrien and Marinette think they're in a polyamorous relationship. They're wrong.

-

Hi, Adrien, I was wondering if

Do you think you could

Hey, purely hypothetical….How receptive would you be to going on a date with me?

I’ve tried to tell you this so many times and I know you deserve to be told in person but I’m just not sure I ca

Marinoodle: Can we have lunch today? I have something I need to talk to you about.

Marinoodle: Alone. Don’t tell Alya and Nino?

Marinoodle: Sorry. I just. I’ll explain at the cafe.

She texted Adrien in the early morning. It was the easiest way, and still put her on the hook. If she started this with those damn eyes of his looking at her, and the eyes of everyone else, no way would she get the words out. It’d be troisiéme all over again.

She reminded herself that Chat believed in her, and she can’t let him down. She can’t go to their next patrol and tell him that she chickened out. It’s entirely unlike when Alya would...encourage her. Alya pushed, and sometimes didn’t think of things like consequences, and generally didn’t have to deal with things like anxiety. For her, the best way to do things was just to do them. Like that old American Nike meme. Chat fed her a quiet strength. Cooled her buzzing nerves. Said that she was capable, but that it was okay if she wasn’t ready. And Ladybug hated to disappoint him.

Her phone buzzed.

Agreste My Case: Of course!

Agreste My Case: Is everything okay?

Marinoodle: Cool. Cool. Everything’s cool. Grand really.

“Marinette!” Her Maman called from below. “If you don’t hurry, you won’t have time for breakfast.”

She was still wearing pajamas. Shit!

Marinette shot out of bed, thanking her lucky stars and Past Marinette for leaving out clothes for today. It was...well, it was Chat’s favorite outfit of hers. Past Marinette thought she could do with the confidence boost. And the reminder. When she’d shown it to Tikki, the tiny kwami had heartily approved.

It was a prom dress she found on clearance at the local thrift. The original was strapless, floor-length, and had rainbow stripes. She’d removed all the layers of the skirt but the outside and the lining, shortened it to hit just above her knee, and added a fitted denim jacket. The overall effect was airy and fun, and great for a day in the sun, and Chat had said that the sky in her eyes reflected in her outfit. Marinette had blushed, but laughed, and said, “Okay, okay, that pun deserves a cookie.”

That memory carried her through her morning routine. Teeth brushed, hair brushed, hair down? Chat liked it down. Hair in messy bun? Adrien said he thought it was cute. Hm. She shook her head; she didn’t have time for this. She’d leave it up and could take it down later if she needed something to fiddle with. Grab breakfast (two croissants in a white paper sack). Out the door. Cross the street. Stare at the school building.

She can’t do this. Why did she think she could? Alya’s going to know something’s up. Alya always knew. They’re all going to know. The whole class is going to take one look at her and know and be ready to laugh at her bumbling attempts to confess to the man she loves and Lila would be there and she’d smirk and say, Oh Marinette. You know I’m dating Adrien; he confessed to me weeks ago--

“-ette. Marinette? Are you okay?” A hand across her shoulder blades jolted her out of her spiral and two full feet away. Adrien raised his hands in defense, and Marinette could feel the embarrassment across her face. Her eyes hid behind her hands. A small whine left her mouth. She stewed in her mortification for a moment.

Then Adrien chuckled. And she peeked through her fingers. The early morning sunlight glittered in his hair. His eyes as green as the thick turf at the park. His teeth pushed into his lower lip, a failed attempt to hide his grin.

“It is far too early for this.” She closed her eyes again.

“You say that every morning, Marinette.” Kwamis, she loved the way he said her name. Slowly, intentionally, as if each syllable were important. Mar~i~nette.

“Yeah? Well, I mean it this time.” She grumbled.

They stood in silence. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but Marinette could feel her nerves rising again. She was making this weird. She really thought she was over this.

“Marinette,” Adrien called to her, softly. “Is everything okay? Your texts sounded kind of...Is it Lila again?”

Her eyes snapped open and hands flew to her purse for her phone. Tikki dove deeper to avoid being spotted. “No, no!” She opened the text message app and grimaced. Her response sat unsent.

“Got caught up and didn’t send your reply?” His relief showed in his grin. That he picked up on what happened so quickly was both embarrassing and pleasing. Her face was going pink again. Time for a distraction.

She shoved the bakery bag at him. “C-croissant?”

He blinked at the abrupt change of subject, but went along with it. Thankfully. His delight was clear when he opened the bag.

“Croissants are my favorite,” he sighed.

“You say that about all of our pastries, Adrien,” she parroted.

“Yeah, well, I mean it this time.” He mocked her in kind as he dug one out. He looked at it, and then looked at her, and she could see the question brewing.

“I’m actually not all that hun-mmpff!” Marinette glared and growled through a mouthful of croissant. Adrien just smiled cheerfully and pulled out the second.

“We should really get to class, you know.”

-

They got to class. And the class after that. And the class after that. Marinette couldn’t say what the lessons had been. She remembered his gold-spun hair beside her. The fidgety edits she made to a design that just wouldn’t come together. Three other designs she flipped to when sudden, but ultimately brief, inspiration hit. His thigh pressing against hers. She always wondered if he did that on purpose. She supposed she was about to find out.

Suddenly, the lunch bell was upon them.

“Lunch at the bakery? Just wait ‘til you hear what the tweebs did last night! They’re on lockdown for the foreseeable future.” Alya looked at her expectantly until she went cross eyed. She pulled her glasses off and squinted at them.

“O-oh, uh-” No, no, no! Of all days for Alya to not attempt the matchmaking! On second thought, she was glad for the lack of expectations.

“I’d love to join,” Lila cut in, flicking her hair over her shoulder, “but Mom got reservations for that new five-star by the embassy.”

How nice of Lila to take herself out of the way so neatly.

“Nice! You’ll have to tell us all about how fancy it is.” Alya squinted at her while she cleaned the lenses with her shirt. Ugh. Marinette refrained from rolling her eyes, barely.

Lila’s smug smile dropped when Adrien popped up behind Marinette. “Actually, Alya, Marinette and I are going to find somewhere to study for that maths test that’s tomorrow.”

She could kiss him for that.

Alya squinted at her glasses again before putting them back on. “Oh! Nino and I’ll go with you, then.”

Lila looked like she wanted to jump in, too, Marinette could tell, but she couldn’t when she supposedly had a lunch date already.

“No offense, Al, but we want to actually study. Not that nauseating couple thing that you and Nino do when you’re only pretending to study.” He grinned and winked.

Marinette decided to help him out with some gagging noises, smile hidden behind a polite hand.

Alya huffed good-naturedly and flapped her hand at them. “Fine, fine, you two go be boring and study. But I’ll remember that comment when you get a girl, Agreste, because I know Mr. Heart Eyes is going to be ten times worse.”

Alya went off to find Nino and Lila went off to do...whatever Lila did. Marinette gave Adrien a half-smile as he shuffled her out of school, still mostly trapped in her own thoughts.

That squiggly feeling was back in the pit of her stomach. Like a tiny venomous snake writhing around, and she was just waiting for it to bite. Thanks, Alya! Why did she think she could do this? Adrien’s one of her best friends! Surely if he wanted more, he would have said so by now. He’s never shown interest in anyone outside of Kagami (briefly) and Ladybug and offhandedly mentioning that Luka’s cute (though no one else knew about that, he’d sworn her to secrecy).

Again, he broke through her cloud of doubts.

“That was awfully accommodating of Lila to remove herself from our plans like that.”

She looked up at him and found a strained smile. Argh! Get it together, Marinette! You know he’s picking up on your weirdness and thinking it’s his fault!

Ugh. Her inner voice sounded like Tikki. Right, as usual.

“I had that exact thought! It’s got to be the single nicest thing she’s ever done for me.” His nervousness faded into a real laugh, and then they were back to normal. She hardly noticed the walk to the cafe while they giggled and teased. He held the door open and she blushed pink as she ducked inside. The line to order wasn’t too long, but Marinette was nervous again by the time they reached the front. She managed to give her order, but stuttered her protest when Adrien swooped in to pay for her.

They were about to sit down when Marinette’s hands reached for her backpack and didn’t find it. She had her purse (and thus, Tikki), thank Kwamis, but everything else...

“I left my backpack at school!” Her hands went to her head and her whole face scrunched up. Adrien shuffled the strap of his bag when she looked up at him. “I have to go back to school and get it! Oh, but by the time I do and come back here, there’ll barely be time to eat, and, and, then we won’t be able to talk and I’ll have to sit on this for days because you don’t always get free time and it just be my luck to not see you for a week after this, and you can’t just say this kind of thing over text, well you can but that doesn’t mean you should, and -are you okay? You’re shuffling your bag around an awful lot; are your shoulders hurti…”

Marinette cut off and stared at the pink backpack strap that wrapped around Adrien’s shoulder. She huffed. “You could have said something. Instead of letting me panic.”

“It was cute.” He gave her a fond smile. “You’re cute.”

Her legs gave out. Good thing she was already in the process of sitting down; she landed in her chair instead of the floor. He didn’t seem to notice, and kept going. “I meant to tell you earlier: I like your dress! Is-is it one of yours?”

Her already pink cheeks were turning red, she just knew it. She’d be as red as her suit, soon. This boy was trying to kill her. “T-thanks! It’s a thrift buy; I, um just changed it up a bit.”

“Oh! An upcycle!” He set their backpacks down and took his seat much more gracefully than she had. But, then, he’s a model.

“Ah, well, technically an upcycle is where you take one thing and turn it into something totally different. What I did is considered an alteration.”

He chuckled. She was so lucky, to be someone he could laugh freely with. “I see. Regardless ...you make it beautiful.”

She stared into his eyes, caught by them. Bright and clear and honest. The way affection crinkled the corners of them. She knew those would be his wrinkles, when he gets them. Laugh lines and love crinkles, like her parents.

It was the perfect moment to speak, she knew. If only she could bring herself to do it. Why couldn’t she? He’d complimented her confidence outfit, carried her bag here, paid for her lunch, said she was cute. And it...he said she made it beautiful. But the way he said it. The way he said it, he sounded like he meant she was beautiful. She just needed to open her mouth, and say-

“I’m in love with you.”

Her eyes widened, and her face exploded in color. She could see his doing the same. Her usual reflex reaction rose up, take it back, take it back, she could still fix this rebutted with no, this was the whole point of lunch, to confess, see if he was interested to be countered by he hasn’t said anything yet, oh, what have I done.

“I-I didn’t- I mean I did- love is such a-”

He cut off her panicked babble. “You’re in love with me?”

His tone said he didn’t quite believe it, but the look on his face added that he dared to hope anyway. He was looking down at her (even sitting, their height difference was..much) and he had this softness to his eyes that she didn’t see him use with anyone else. It reminded her of Chat sitting with her, gently telling her that her feelings weren’t going to destroy hers and Adrien’s friendship, building her courage.

She couldn’t do anything other than give him the truth.

“Have been for awhile.” The effect her words had was immediate. All that hope and, dare she say it, longing turned into something much brighter, something beautiful and gentle.

“Me too.”

When Marinette looked back at this moment, far into the future, she’d recognize it for what it was: undeniable proof that she was going to marry this man someday. All she could think while in the moment, however, was she clearly spent way too much time with Chat Noir and she’s going to kill that cat bastard.

“You’re in love with yourself, too?”

The words came out of her mouth, and she was mortified. She’d done it. She’d confessed to her years old crush. He actually accepted her feelings. They did the sappy staring in the eyes thing. And then she ruined the moment. Chat’d done this to her so many times; she couldn’t believe she was picking up the worst aspects of his humor.

A muffled chuckle redirected her attention back to Adrien. Hand over his mouth, he tried to contain himself, but it was a battle already lost. A petulant pout from her, and that was all it took for him to give himself over to the laughter. He stopped trying to hide his smile. His eyes scrunched closed. He slowly leaned towards the chair next to him, curling in on himself, using the table as a crutch, and laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

His joy rang through her. It warmed her toes and eased her stomach, stopped her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her dress.

He was catching his breath when the server brought their food and took their number. Marinette set the plates on her side with a small “thank you”.

“I’m going to kill my boyfriend,” she grumbled. “That was all his fault.”

Adrien, back in a sitting position, tilted his head in curiosity. “You have a boyfriend?”

“Oh! Ah..I do. Um. Gosh, I’m doing this all wrong.” Marinette stared resolutely at her food. “It’s, um. It’s new. I haven’t even told Alya yet. I wasn’t planning on telling anyone for a while. Except you.”

She peeked at him through her fringe. Adrien didn’t seem upset. For all the world, it looked like he was patiently hearing her out. But it wasn’t always easy to read through his Model Face. She twisted her fingers together.

“We.. He.. Well, he’s in love with two people. And, and I’m in love with two people. So we decided to try polyamory.” And that was the rest of it. Everything that had her knots all day. She hoped he would understand.

A flutter of movement, his hands moved into her peripheral vision. “Can I have your hands before you start digging your nails in?”

She swallowed, and carefully looked no further than her hands as they moved to meet his. He started rubbing slow circles on contact.

“Let me make sure that I have this right. Are you asking me out?”

“Yes.”

“You have a boyfriend? And he’s okay with you dating another person?”

She glanced at his expression and was caught by it. It was warm, and encouraging. “Yes.”

His hands squeezed hers. “Ah, in the interest of full disclosure...I have a partner, too.”

“O-oh?”

“I met her online and, well, you can imagine what would happen if the public heard that Adrien Agreste had an online girlfriend.”

Marinette cringed sympathetically. “That’d be a nightmare. You have a lot of crazy fangirls.” She paused for a moment and then ventured, “I can’t imagine Gabriel would approve, either.”

“Ha. No. Which means it has to stay secret for awhile.” Adrien shook his head, as if it would get rid of the sour thoughts. “But! We, well, exactly like you two. We’re both in love with two people and I couldn’t make myself choose. I wanted both of you.”

She stared at him, pink painted across her cheeks and lips parted slightly. “Me?”

“You.” His smile was back. “I’ve been working to get the courage to ask you out. Tried half a dozen times or so.

“What I’m trying to say, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, is that I’d love to go on a date with you.”

[wild-battlebond]

Appmon Ep52 Liveblog

It’s the final episode! Our Singularity! There are several definitions of the word “singularity”, but the definition that best fits the episode (and entire series) is: “a hypothetical moment in time when artifical intelligence and other technologies become so advanced that humanity undergoes a dramatic and irreversible change.”

another fancy quote. this one is from Clyde Sinclair.

Haru was falling off a building but he’s fine now because Gaiamon came and grabbed him. I actually think that this shot is really cool, how the camera dips down as Haru should hit the ground but then raises back up when Gaiamon catches him.

and everyone else’s Appmon are back, too!

and now everyone else’s Appmon are getting beat up. good thing they don’t have to worry about protecting humans anymore, because this city is getting torn to pieces.

I still don’t really get why Haru holds up his hand at Leviathan (i guess it’s supposed to be like, he’s so heroic and fearless now? i think Haru has just been running off of adrenaline ever since the antenna fiasco and isn’t putting a whole lot of thought into what he does.) but everyone calling out to their Appmon, even from such a long distance, is cool.

Minerva’s dead now, but now everyone has a cool power-up! it’s basically like a reverse version of the power-up that Leviathan threw around during the Ultimate Four arc.

this fight is super cool, and really well choreographed with all of the swooping around and the solid impacts that the hits have. and they knew it was cool, too, cause the opening plays during it.

and now after all that big talk that Leviathan’s minions had about the irrelevance of feelings and what the heart wants and how logic will always prevail, Leviathan subccumbs to the raw emotion that is the fear of death. ultimately, no matter how emotionless and logical someone pretends to be, they will always be influenced by their emotions — we wouldn’t be living things without that.

aw man, I just thought of this... wouldn’t it have been cool if part of these power-ups had been fueled by an overdrive?

Leviathan’s body is destroyed now! this isn’t the end, though, but everyone thinks it is so they enjoy a nice moment of reunion and congratulations. So everyone hugs and hi-fives and stuff, Dokamon finally gets some affection, and Rei & Hackmon are just vibing!

i was gonna say something cheeky about how Yujin starts apologizing for what he’s done, but then I realized you can actually look at this as a parallel to Offmon’s profuse apologizing for some unknown deed from earlier on — the way Yujin repeats “sorry” even sounds like how Offmon would apologize.

but things are not over because Leviathan was scared of death so now Yujin is acting as a host for Leviathan’s remains.

besides the “no more fear of death” thing, I wonder why Leviathan is so enamored with the idea of a world without suffering or sadness? perhaps choosing to break away from the rules of humanity lead Leviathan to discover the depths of human suffering? maybe, like with the “no more fear” thing, Leviathan felt a bunch of negative emotions and was like “well this sucks” and decided to get rid of them?

yep, change is a really important theme in Appmon. change for the better, change for the worse — it’s what living things do

oh yeah lol then Leviathan turns that on its head and makes Haru choose between humanity and Yujin’s life.

but, in the end, to not have selected “yes” would have been extremely selfish, not to mention unprotagonist-y. looking at it as sheer numbers, there’s more value in saving lots of people instead of just one person... and, it would result in lots of people loosing those they care about. it’s one person’s valued relationship VS the valued relationships between billions of people, so of course “yes” is the best answer... really shitty of Leviathan to make Haru make that choice, though. it’s good writing.

and now Haru knows what he’s going to do in the future (and what kind of high school he’s going to apply for) — he’ll become a AI researcher so that he can try and revive Yujin after all this. it’s been only about a day since they had that conversation, after all, so it’s still fresh in his mind.

and Yujin knows that it would be horrible to make Haru willingly give up his best friend so he wakes his consciousness up and hits the button for him. so, despite Yujin not actually changing much through the series, he does finally make good on his App Drive question — he gave up his life to protect Haru. though the wording of the question made it seem like Yujin would wind up saving him from, like, physical harm, he actually winds up protecting Haru from emotional harm.

Haru’s request to Yujin to somehow come back and be his best friend again is pretty illogical (how would he do that if he’s dead), but again I think Haru is mostly just running on raw emotion rather than any actual thought throughout this episode. which is fitting, I suppose, given the themes of emotion VS logic. plus Yujin is going to be back in like five minutes so *shrugs*

also, I think this part is sweet, how the buddy pairs try to console each other... it’s especially cute how Musimon tries to wipe away Astora’s tears

and now it’s the near future and everything is getting rebuilt!

oh, the person watching the news is Unryuji Knight. i guess he doesn’t completely dissapear after the end of his arc.

oh, they actually go over the intended definition of singularity in the episode. I totally forgot since I was focused on everything else happening in the epilogue.

I can’t escape the feeling that Astora must get grounded or something sometimes after his videos. like there’s no way he gets off scot-free for breaking pots or filling ponds full of fish with slime

at this point, the first time I watched this episode I barely paid attention to the actual happenings of the epilogue because, once I realized that no Appmon were appearing, the only thing I could think was “and the Appmon? where are the Appmon?? they didn’t leave, did they???”. so this time, since I know the Appmon are still around, I’m going to pay better attention.

I’m really curious what the dissolving of L-Corp means — was everything owned by L-Corp just shut down, or did other companies get to buy up L-Corp’s subsidiaries? because it seems really coincidental that Eri would wind up working with Elena and Alice again under a completely different idol firm, so I wonder if they’re still working for Appliyama and it just got bought out by a new company?

and Grandpa Deneimon got put back in the real world. it’s never said whether everyone winds up telling their families about the Appmon or anything, so is Deneimon just living in Ai’s basement and Haru’s mom has no idea he’s still alive??

and the Appmon are still around, much to the relief of my past self! everyone’s still close friends, too — they still hang out together in the bookstore’s basement. and, they somehow managed to pull Offmon out of the wreckage of Leviathan’s body, and now Haru is careing for him. Gatchmon never really ever got over being annoyed-jealous at Offmon all the time, so I imagine that Haru’s home life must be real experience with those two around.

andddd Yujin is alive! somehow! it’s a little cheap that he magically comes back after Haru bases his future goals around losing him — generally, if you’re really going to use a death for character development, they should stay dead. But, this is a kids’ show, so I really can’t complain too much. and, soon after watching this for the first time, I did quickly cook up a theory to explain his return — since Yujin befriending Haru was so intrigal to Leviathan’s plans, it seems like there would have been a way to revive Yujin if something happened to him so that the plan could continue. so, based on the assumption that when Yujin returns home for the day and his doorway scans his memory and makes it so his mom knows what he wants to eat also makes a backup of his memory, it’s entirely possible that his mom was also saddened by his death and decided to just revive him from a backup (which would leave him without any memory of what happened the day they caught Bootmon or anything after that), using that last complete-but-unused Yujin body that was shown a few episodes ago. that’s my headcanon for what happened, anyways.

one last Haru’s birthday for the road :’)

And that’s the end of the show! I wound up really liking Appmon when I first watched it last August, to the point where I decided to rewatch it just a few months afterwards. And, lo-and-behold, I still really like it! It’s not only a really good mon-genre show, with a lot of focus on the friendships between humans and monsters, but it’s also a really interesting look at the potential bonds of people and technology. So, I’m really glad to have watched it again while doing liveblogs — and I’m proud of these liveblogs, too, since I wound up going way into depth on my thoughts and theories and headcanons for the show, so it was really fun! I’m also glad that other people have enjoyed reading these, too — ultimately, I do this just because I enjoy it, but it’s nice to know other people like it too. So, thanks for reading! And, also, if anyone wants to hear more of my thoughts on this stuff... I’m open to discuss the show at any time as well!

[skelffricat]

Good grief, Charlie Brown.

I’ve never owned an electric toothbrush. I’ve never had a dishwasher. I am the dishwasher. I like washing dishes. I never bought an iron. I don’t have a hairdryer. I find it strange that I get advertised these reusable alternatives for things that I never use anyway. Alternatives to cling film. I put another plate over the dish. Alternatives to cotton buds. I use my finger. (Ew, you may say, but surely a finger’s that size to fit in ears and nostrils? Or whatever orifice you please. Wash your hawnds.) Alternatives to cotton wool circles. What? I dont know why these thoughts have come into my head, when I want to write about my youngest child. Really, I’m meant to be working, but an annoying email from my dead daughter’s school sent me down a suicide rabbithole. Perhaps those other thoughts come about as my classic brain avoidance schemes. Like when you hoover instead of doing an essay. Positive procrastination, I used to call it. I wanted to visit some friends last night- a fun thing! but I was feeling all solitary and awkward. I cleaned the bathroom ceiling at first, instead! I had to really talk myself into going to see them. I was looking at my bed and it was saying, “Get into me! and read your book!”

Then I went, and I had a lovely time, of course. I still finished the book I was reading, when I got home at midnight, until three am, making myself ever so tired. I’ve stopped taking the tablets- beta blockers and mirtazapine (more by accident rather than design. They’re still up in the chemist waiting for me. I’m rather disorganised) and so sleep doesn’t come as readily. I have to take deep breaths for ages sometimes, to get over. And I awake in the night hearing things that aren’t there. I heard The Woodcarver calling me, one night, plain and loud as day. Another time, I heard my son knocking my door three times, sharply (or was it a burglar? I said that to someone and they laughed. Burglars don’t knock! Oh, hello there, wake up, I’m robbing you blind!) Bounced out of bed. Heart hammering. Called him. He was fast asleep. Was it her ghost? I don’t believe in ghosts, really. Kind of wish I did. She’d be a mischievous one, no doubt. Is it always 5:57am, when I awake? The same time. Time to find your dead child. 

I’m often in the house alone, now. They didn’t want to leave me alone, and there were so many people in the house, for ages. Then all of a sudden, it stopped. And I changed lovers... I changed to the one I’d been in love with for over a year, the one who seemed too young, the one who wasn’t interested. Suddenly he was interested. Well. It wasn’t sudden. It took a few weeks. Seven weeks? The seven week itch? It coincided with when the Scottish lover asked me to stop letting other people come to the house. He wanted me to himself. Which is kind of fair enough, though I knew it wouldn’t last anyway. (People coming to my house, I mean, not the relationship. I really enjoyed having a relationship with him. He is very sweet, funny, intelligent, and kind. The sex was great. He can cook wonderful food and play guitar well. I liked to sing with him. I am ashamed to say I was bothered by his being smaller than me, though. His face tended to itch me, too- he never quite grew a beard long enough to stop that. As he kept shaving it off, not because he couldn’t. That was the first time he kind of annoyed me, though.)

Lockdown doesn’t help, of course. We were all breaking rules in our grief. Covid is cancelled, my mother said. Masks off. Hugs all round. A friend told me you need extra oxytocin when you’re grieving. I was getting plenty of it. Good grief... 

Now I am frequently alone, and as my new lover is very busy studying (or perhaps less interested in me again now that he has my attention back? Though his reticence in getting with me stemmed from his concerns about the uneven nature of our interest in each other...) I haven’t seen him all week. I feel myself becoming depressed, and withdrawn, and paranoid, yet I still don't feel particularly sad about my daughter’s death. Which is strange. Isn’t it? Here is the email I received from her school this morning (it had her name and class at the top of the email): 

“Good morning

I hope this email finds you all well.

A number of years ago I signed the college up to the campaign against period poverty. I receive and distribute sanitary products to girls, primarily on free school meals, but any who are in need of the products and either can’t afford them or it is difficult to get them. The products are normally distributed by myself, during P.E and games, unfortunately this can’t happen at present.

These products are still available during the school closure. If you wish to avail of them, please contact our school info account (which is only read by one member of office staff) your request will be directed to me and I will contact you directly regarding collection.

These are difficult times for many at present and to quote my favourite supermarket, ‘every little helps’.

Kind regards...”

I was really with her until she quoted Tesco. And said they were her favourite!! Ugh! I mean, it really is a great idea. Though they really should check if the people they are writing about are still capable of bleeding. My heart bleeds....

I replied thus:

“Hello there.

Great idea, but as (my youngest daughter) has died, she won't be needing them any more. I hate Tesco- they ruin many little businesses.

Maybe take me off this mailing list?”

Then I attached one of her seven suicide notes: the one for school. Which I had previously not shown them. I only found it on Christmas Eve. Can I attach it, here? It has no names... 

There we are. Is it wrong of me to find her notes amusing? She is so angry, people say. I wonder how much of it is literal, and how much of it is using the school as a big nameless scapegoat. She was funny in the rest of them, too, and very loving. I found them comforting, like a fucked up Christmas present.

Then I started reading articles about suicide, and they were about how we shouldn’t call the people who do it selfish, about how depressed they are, how they need pity, not anger. I’m tired of the pity (though I’m not the suicidal one). I’m not producing enough sadness from myself when people pity me, either. Where is my sadness? Am I too acceptant of it all? We are all going to die. Is suicide like a C-section? Is it cheating death, like I thought my Caesareans cheated birth? Is suicide self euthanasia? Why do I not miss my daughter more? Is it because she had already left? Was she released, happy, free as a bird, swooping away on an Awfully Big Adventure? Trapezing her way into the æther? I googled to see if I could find any positive reactions to suicide. Is this my nature, to try and find the good in everything? To try and make light of the horrific? Is everything a joke to me? 

I found this blog post, from Andreas Moser.

I love it. Am I trying to take the blame away from myself? The NHS? The school? Should I be reeling and railing against the systems that let my daughter get into that state? Why am I instead trying to find ways to applaud her behaviour, accept it, even enjoy it?! When I read his words, “I admire their courage (because logical as it may be, it’s not easy) and the determination to make the ultimate decision in life oneself.” I felt a strange sensation of relief, that someone else could think those things. I had been thinking them, but trying not to, because it seemed like such an awful thing to think. But then I think, why does anyone else have to be to blame? It was her decision. 

The book I was rereading is called Life After Life, by Kate Atkinson. It’s my favourite book, I have decided, for now. Do favourites stay favourites? I was looking at my old Couchsurfing Profile today (because of Andreas’ blog- he, as a hippy hermit, is, of course, on Couchsurfing). One needs to update these every so often. Explain that you have watched another film in the last twenty years, that there is one less sofa in your living room, one less child on your earth. Even though no-one is allowed to move around, really. No visiting. No exploring. Perhaps she killed herself to escape the boredom. 

In Life After Life, the main character, Ursula, lives again and again. (I forgot that to live again and again, she had to die again and again. It's a very sad and graphic book, spanning two wars- read it. It is, ultimately, uplifting.) I wanted to read it again to make my daughter live again, and again. We need to write her alive. Show her drawings and paintings. Listen to her songs (they're hilarious). Read her poems. Admire her photographs. Tell the stories of her antics.

I know that really she was actually depressed and withdrawn. I know it isn’t a glorious escape. That her wee head was broken, and that sometimes it’s just easier to say, it was unfixable, she was determined, this is what she wanted, than to contemplate it as my (or anyone else’s) failure to help her. I know that she used to be confident and gregarious. She would have danced in front of people, inspiring others. She was always upside-down, tumbling, twirling, cartwheeling. She had a dry, cheeky wit, and rather an amusing obsession with poo and wee. She was kind, and wise. She liked to bake vegan treats. She could draw, and paint, and sing so beautifully. She played the ukelele, but by then she was hiding away. She had started to write poems- songs? She wouldn’t show us them. We had to beg her to perform on the trapeze for her Granny’s eightieth, in July. She did so, beautifully, but you could tell she hated the attention. Four months later, she hanged herself on it. 

Had we all withdrawn into ourselves, this 2020? Was there really nothing else to do? Yet I remember the start of Lockdown seeming idyllic. All that free time, all that sunshine. Was I just trying to convince myself, as usual? The only people we saw were the Woodcarver and the neighbours. She taught the wee boy next door to ride his unicycle. When she died, he brought in a picture he had drawn, of them on their unicycles, she as an angel above herself, a rainbow arcing over the three figures. His sadness affected me. I felt like I could only be sad through other people. Where is my sadness? Where is my grief? Good grief, bad grief, no grief? Alternatives to grief.

[cant-blink]

Acceptance

Summary: Takes place after Appreciated. Ni has returned and something is... different. Ichi attempts to talk to him again and progress seems to be better! But at what cost...?

-

It was sometime in the afternoon hours when they finally returned to the volcano.

Circling around, they could see their slave still there, next to the severed head of their brother, and the bird looked up at them as they swooped in for a landing. He seemed overjoyed to see them again and tried to make room for them by moving into the lava pit; unfortunately, that was where they were going to land and Ichi was undeterred from their trajectory as he allowed a slight smirk upon his snout. Ghidorah’s feet planted themselves right on top of the bird.

The squawk was drowned out quickly as Rodan was pushed into the magma as waves of it splashed thickly over the rim and they felt him scramble out from under them. He came up with a gasp beside them as he pulled himself back onto the rim. With his good wing and feet, he managed to drag himself out completely onto land; they tended to stay out of the lava, so this change took him off-guard and seemed to scare the hell out of him. San almost laughed as their wide-eyed slave coughed and shook the lava from his face. Almost. Because he knew what was coming next.

As they sat in the pool, the molten rock bubbling against their scaled hide and folded wings bracing themselves on the rim, the energy their body had to regenerate sky-rocketed. The two steeled themselves as the painful throb in their shoulder area increased. And then-

San and Ichi screamed at the same time as the organ began to contract, pushing its contents upward through the neck. Wave after wave of relentless pain plagues them and it took effort for the alpha head to stifle his voice. He had to focus and his eyes locked onto the remains of his brother. He can see the movement beneath the transparent membrane, and he followed the impulse to rip it off, the fluid splashing with a hiss into the magma beneath them.

They could feel their slave nestle against their left side in some show of support, nibbling San’s neck in a comforting groom for a few seconds before- 

“Push!” he was now saying with a grin, and they were in too much pain to try to figure out what he was meaning by that. No, it only earned a bite in return from the agonized left head. San doesn’t let go, and although the bird lets out a cry of pain, he must’ve realized it was an automatic response. His wing claws continue to pet their scales, muttering more genuine sounding reassurances to him.

San only responds with a pained whimper as he bit harder. It was very rare that he had to endure this kind of pain, and the fact that he had to go through this three times today did not make it any easier. If anything, it made it worse! He just wanted it to stop, but at least Ichi wasn’t ripping out the new growths this time. No, he was allowing the skull to push itself out and the muscle tendrils were free to writhe about before securing themselves in place.

Their right shoulder twitched as the pain coursed in deep like a spider-web through their chest and wing. Ichi continued to hold in his cries of pain, watching from the corner of an eye as the regeneration process completed itself, and their brother was ‘born’ once more.

The torture faded quickly now that the process was over, leaving only a dull ache, and San let go of their slave as Ichi pulled them from the magma pool, lava dripping from them onto the black ground beneath. Ichi let out a breath as he settled their body to rest comfortably, some lava still clinging to them. Although they were finally given relief from the pain for the first time since this morning, there was already tension in the air, as the alpha head was uncertain of how his healed brother would react.

He imagined the right head would not have taken the delay of his regeneration well. Much less, the torment he had no doubt gone through each time Ichi removed the regrowths. It brought a pang of guilt through the alpha head, but the process needed to be done, for his own sake.

But when he was expecting snarls and angry swear words hurled in his direction, there was only silence, and he turned his head to glance at him from the corner of an eye. Ni’s eyes were still closed; he would’ve been fully conscious during the whole process, but he didn’t seem to want to acknowledge them. Ichi would have loved to keep the peace, but there was another step in the process of Ni’s regeneration and given the circumstances, he wasn’t sure if it was the best idea right now. 

“Brother Ni?”

“Just do it,” came the muttering response.

“If you need tim-”

“Just...” Ni interrupts with a voice sharp with restrained impatience, but it was clear he was trying to keep monotone. “Get it done already.”

Ichi let out a breath, but doesn’t push the issue. He takes the second horn from Ni’s left side, the longest one, in his jaws before hesitating. He’s done this plenty of times before, marking his brother like this. Ever since their first fight, Ichi has insisted on doing this to his brother with every regeneration. To remind him of their dark times, mimicking one of the injuries he had sustained during their first fight. An injury that was not erased by simple healing like the rest. It was always an easy task for the eldest brother to perform before, but this time...

Just make it quick.

He closed his eyes and snapped the horn off. Ni stifled his roar, only a choked groan escaping his throat as blood dripped from the broken horn. It wasn’t long before the bleeding stopped and Ni gave a shake of his head as if to throw off the lingering pain before turning away silently. Ichi dropped the broken piece before taking a breath. But before he could say anything, San was upon his older brother. He always had a habit of greeting his siblings whenever they regenerated, an odd behavior given that they never left, and now was no exception.

Despite knowing better, he pressed his snout against his Ni’s neck in a nuzzle. At once, the right head’s lips curled in a snarl, but strangely no growl escaped him. He was clearly unhappy with being touched, but he endured the show of affection as San purred to him. 

“Welcome back, Brother Ni,” he cooed. He kept his face pressed into scales for a moment before he felt something was off. Usually by now, he would’ve been bitten and thrown off. Last time Ni allowed him to do this, it ultimately did not end well. He pulled away, watching his brother with both curiosity and worry. 

Ni was glaring at him, eyes still sharp with his usual disdain but he said nothing as he lowered his head beneath San’s level. His eyes shifted to look off to the side, as if trying to avoid looking at him. The left head blinked. Holding the head lower was a sign of submission, but that couldn’t be right! Ni never ever showed submission to anyone but Ichi. Perhaps, instead, this was a gesture of apology? That seemed almost as unlikely, but given the previous conversation he and Ichi held with Ni’s neurons, maybe he wanted to show that he heard and understood, and wanted forgiveness.

San’s heart soared. Was this the first step towards his brother loving him? Maybe it was a sign of acceptance to his affections and a willingness to bond! He beamed, purring louder and more enthusiastically before trying to show his brother that everything was alright between them by licking and nibbling the top of his head. He’s never groomed Ni before, or rather he never did without being harmed afterwards...

Ichi was silent, watching Ni flinch and bare his teeth again. But he still wasn’t snapping at the little one, as he always would whenever groomed by him. Something was very wrong here, and Ichi worried that Ni had reverted to his broken state. But he didn’t appear nearly as... dead as he was before, and indeed, he looked to be barely tolerating San’s efforts. The fact he was tolerating it at all, though...

Maybe something has gone wrong with the regeneration? Was that even a possibility? Or was it that Ni listened to what he told him, and was now making efforts to better his relationship to San as a result. His obvious discomfort was not too different than how it was when Ichi gently cleaned him. He didn’t know, as both seemed like very viable theories, given the timing.

“Brother San,” Ichi spoke up, catching the youngest’s attention and having him stop the grooming, although the tip of his tongue was still sticking out. Ichi nodded his head to the side, gesturing for him to give Ni room. San showed some reluctance, as he wanted to smother his brother with all the grooms and nuzzles and cuddles, make up for lost time. But he’ll have another opportunity, he’s sure and he followed what he was told nonetheless, much to Ni’s relief.

He still did not lift his head though, refusing to make eye-contact. Ichi let his eyes scan over his brother for any sign of physical imperfections but everything seemed in order. Just his behavior was off. He knew better than to ask if he were alright; it always got the same answer no matter the situation (“Fine.”). So instead, he decided to get it over with.

“I take you are now willing to listen.” 

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” Ni grumbled, much to Ichi’s surprise. He was expecting immediate resistance, but it seemed the right head has officially given up the fight. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it. On one wing, he won their conflict and can now reap the rewards. But was this really a victory worth celebrating?  

“I do not wish to force you to do something you do not want to do. But you must understand that ‘talking’ is inevitable, and your attempts to delay it is only causing unnecessary pain for everyone involved. Including yourself.”

Ni was saying nothing. Ichi can tell by the twitching of his lips that he was holding himself back from snarling. His unhappiness was clear, but he was nonetheless remaining submissive. The conflict within Ichi grew, but at the very least, he can confirm if one of his theories concerning Ni’s behavior was true...

“Did you understand what I told you about Brother San?”

“Yes.” Ni muttered an answer, still lacking in emotion and sounding almost robotic.

“And with the knowledge I gave you, do you still see him as ‘worthless’?”

Ni was silent for a while, either reluctant or uncertain of his answer, Ichi couldn’t tell. But it wasn’t an immediate ‘no’, so Ichi continued. “I am going to put into place some changes in my expectations of how you treat Brother San. I will not tolerate abusive behavior towards him any longer, Brother Ni. No more attacking him unprovoked, no more unwarranted displays of dominance over him. No longer will it be your job to punish him, unless I say so. Should it be necessary, you will stop when I demand. If you disobey any of these orders, then you will be punished accordingly. Understood?”

“Yes.” The mention of punishment had him flinch ever so slightly. A ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ kind of action, but Ichi caught it. He knew better than to bring it up though. This was going so smoothly, and he didn’t want to risk it all by pointing out a ‘weakness’ that’ll no doubt result in him shutting them out again.

Still, it was interesting to take note of, as Ichi watched him for a silent moment. Ni was still refusing to even look at him...

“I want you to be honest in your answers to me, Brother Ni,” Ichi told him. “Do not just tell me what you think I want to hear. Look at me and tell me you understand.”

Ni let out a breath that sounded dangerously close to growling. But he was still keeping himself in line as he looked up at Ichi. He can still see the anger in his eyes, the hatred. “I understand.”

Ichi watched him for another moment before nodding. “Good. Now, we will talk. Properly.”

The emphasis on that word was more than enough to tell Ni what kind of ‘talk’ they’re going to have. This time, the right head couldn’t keep in the growl but he averted his eyes again, staring at the ground beneath them. It began to bother Ichi how he kept avoiding eye-contact. Even in his previously loyal state, Ni would hold his gaze, proud but respectful. Seemed now though, he was employing every option available to avoid the risk of escalating the situation. Whatever made this easier for him; Ichi decided that he wasn’t going to force him to look at him again. Especially now that they were heading into dangerous territory.

“Let us start with a question I gave you earlier, about our time as children. Do you regret what you did?”

Ichi thought he knew the answer, but he wanted to test the waters with something simple. Something long in their past and thus, given time to heal as opposed to the more recent issues that Ni may fight him on more readily. Plus he wanted to hear Ni say it, confirm it. Rather than him having to make assumptions based on a spark that may or may not have been there. The response did not come quick and Ni bared his teeth again, although he still refused to look up at him. The alpha can tell he was struggling through millions of years of guarded habit but eventually...

“Yes.”

“Thank you,” Ichi said, wanting to encourage this behavior, especially with how reluctant his brother was. Hopefully, it can continue peacefully and Ichi just had to tread carefully. Don’t let it sound like he was demanding it; that’ll just have Ni react defensively as he had done before. Best to give him the illusion that he had a choice in the matter. “May you tell me why you persisted for so long, vying for my position? Surely power was not worth having us both suffer for as long as we have.”

“It wasn’t for power,” Ni muttered. “I didn’t care about the power.”

“Then why?”

It took longer for the right head to finally answer, closing his eyes as he got his voice to work. His words were quieter, as if hoping they won’t be heard although Ichi heard it loud and clear. “Because I felt worthless, being at the very lowest. The only way out was up, and so I fought. Not because I wanted to be alpha, but because it was the only other option.”

The eldest brother blinked at this, a bit taken aback. That wasn’t at all what he expected to hear. His proud, angry, vicious brother felt- “Worthless?” Of course, that very word had him glance at San and suddenly the pieces were falling together. “This is why you call Brother San ‘worthless’. Because he is now the ‘lowest’ of our chain, as you had once been...”

San lowered his eyes, not knowing what to think. He didn’t see anything wrong with being the third in a set of three, but apparently Ni disagreed. His mind returned to that previous night, where Ni told him he was worthless. The amount of hate and venom put into it. Was Ni seeing himself when he said that?

Ni doesn’t respond to Ichi’s deduction, so the eldest continued. “I will tell you what I told Brother San: You have never been worthless, Brother Ni. Your position does not determine your value, even back then. If you had told me-”

“What would you have done to fix it?” Ni interrupted with a glare, habit once more taking hold of him. But he caught himself and glanced away again, keeping in a growl as he did. But he nonetheless brought up a good point and Ichi fell silent as the right head continued. “How could talking have fixed any of it? Would you have given me your position?”

There was a moment of silence, as Ichi thought the question through. The idea of giving up his alpha position was terrible and if it had been any other situation, he would’ve immediately rejected the notion. But knowing what he does now...

“Yes,” Ichi told him in no uncertain terms. The answer clearly surprised Ni, who only really asked those questions to make his point. But it backfired in a way he didn’t see coming. Even San was looking at the eldest in utter disbelief, but he held firm. “If it meant your sense of self-worth, and an end to our pain, then I would have.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Ni grumbled. “We fought plenty, but each time you refused to surrender despite knowing it would only continue for longer.”

“Because you never talked to me, Brother Ni,” Ichi told him, feeling like real progress was being made with that sentence. Maybe with it, Ni would understand the value of communicating beyond the bare minimum. “And because you refused, I was not made aware of your motives. I was only left to assume you were merely being defiant, stubborn. A brat unable to accept defeat, and unfit to lead. So I fought back.”

Silence between them, and Ichi searched his brother’s face for some sign that he understood. But he was expressionless, keeping whatever thoughts he had to himself. Ichi watched him for a moment before letting out a breath. It felt so good to get this much out of him and for a moment, he wanted more. But he kept himself in check. This was rare, yes, but it was best not to overwhelm his brother. Small steps. Short sessions that can end on a good note. With luck, perhaps Ni will come to see that these conversations were doing no harm to him and he can open up more under his own free will.

Foolish expectations? Perhaps.

“I will leave you to think on that, Brother Ni, for I want you to truly understand on your own terms,” he started. “We will talk again tonight, but should you wish to continue, we may.”

Ni said nothing and he took that as him needing some time. Very well, it was a great spot to leave off on for now. He gave a nod, sharing his feelings of gratitude and approval through their neurons. “Thank you, Brother Ni.”

“Thank you, Brother Ni.” San repeated after his brother.

Ni still remained silent as the youngest nuzzled against him again. They seemed so happy, even the damn bird, and Ichi must have felt such smug victory over him...

He hated it, he hated all of it. He hated how he was forced to talk, and he hated the fact that the threat of torture was looming over him if he refused. Without a doubt, should he dare to fight back again, he would have to endure that terrible agony where Ichi kept him in a state of decapitation for no other reason than to make him suffer. 

He hated the knowledge that his brother was able to tear into his exposed and vulnerable flesh and bone, to do him such terrible harm, on top of the pain he already had to go through. He felt all of it, searing into his memory with excruciating detail. He felt his brother strip off the muscle tendrils, he felt the severing of his airway and blood vessels. He felt every crunch made to his vertebrae as they grew. He felt it all, twice, and all the while, Ni had no means of defending himself from the cruelty at all. But he had endured it, taken all of it with silent dignity. It was a principle that he had snarled at San for not having, and he would be the example of practicing what he preached.

Even if it means enduring this disgusting display of affection as San proceeded to groom him. He wanted to bite the little pest so badly, millions of years of habit was working against him, but he was strong and he held himself back. Even without the threat of torture over his head, it wasn’t as if he had a choice anyway. If there was a lesson to be learned here, it was that one simply does not fight against those that are of higher rank than yourself no matter what terrible things they do. And as much as he hated the notion, no matter how much it made him want to vomit... That was what San was now. Higher ranked than him.

No more was it his place to reject the unwanted affections. No more was it his place to refuse what was asked of him. Demanded of him. He could no longer refuse to talk as he otherwise would have. For he has accepted his punishment at its fullest extent, including the punishment Ichi had deemed most ‘fitting’. Ni, former second-in-command and proud warrior...

... was now nothing more than a slave.

[ecto-american]

October Nights C7 (END)

Ectober fanfiction || Day One | Day Two | Day Three | Day Four | Day Five | Day Six || On AO3

Summary: Danny may have died, but he is certainly not gone. And he refuses to be forgotten.

Day 7: Masquerade & Laboratory 

It had all begun in the lab, and it would end in the lab.

Sam's footsteps echoed as she stepped down the stairs into the basement of FentonWorks. The star attraction was closed, the large metallic doors hiding the swirling green of the Ghost Zone.

This had to be done quickly. Jack and Maddie typically weren't out of the house long. She could hear Tucker walking around upstairs, constantly checking to make sure that neither came home unexpectedly.

She kept the thermos clutched tightly in her hands. Of course, they were always welcomed to the Fenton household whenever. Sam and Tucker were basically family. Down to knowing where the spare key was hidden outside and that the Fentons had a small emergency cash stash in their bedroom closet. But it just felt so differently now that Danny died, and with the mission at hand, she couldn't fathom how they'd distract the adults so that she could release this ghost back into the Ghost Zone.

Wow...Was the ghost portal always this big?

She stared up at the size, and she reached out to touch the sides of it. Her fingers grazed over the smooth surface before pushing the button to open the doors. It sometimes felt like only yesterday and other times like a lifetime ago. The accident that changed everything. What an adventure it had all been...

All the ghost fights, the action, the heroic acts. So many good deeds, endless unique memories of her high school years. The Fenton adults were around, but it was the three of them that protected Amity Park. Valerie held her own weight, but it was that trio that struck true fear into the cores of ghosts. Their presence, primarily Danny's, kept them at bay, and it was them who swooped in to kick butt.

Few could ever say that they dated a literal superhero either. This secret between the three of them...it was a powerful bond. Of course they were best friends before this, and she would remain best friends with Tucker long after this. But this brought them so close, closer than she'd ever imagine being to others.

The accident changed her entire life, and with that adventure came such a circus of hell.

Watching the two boys she loved so much getting scraped up and burned. The late nights coaxing Danny on the phone after suffering yet another nightmare. He had such complex PTSD that he could never seek help from without exposing everything. At sleepovers, she'd hear him wake up in hysterics or staring aimlessly out her window. All the anxiety attacks from Tucker, the fool who would just never stop trying to take hits for her and Danny, as she had to hold his hand and cover his eyes to get him to finally go to the damn doctor. Even last year when a horrible attack nearly destroyed his right knee that required surgical screws and rods to fix. He still took pain medicine to manage it on bad days. Scarily, Sam had become almost too good at patching them, and herself, up. It made her more determined to become a vet.

Amity Park didn't always appreciate their efforts. They constantly dumped on Danny and all of his sacrifices. Tucker and Sam were somewhat known only vaguely as Phantom's helpers, but they had sacrificed a lot as well. All of their grades suffered. To some extent, they had figured out a system. They would have all graduated and been able to go to college. But it was doubtful that they'd really be rolling around in scholarships. The lack of sleep, the exhaustion both mentally and physically.

And of course...it all led to this.

Was it all worth it? Worth any of this?

Sam stared at the ghost portal, clutching the thermos tightly in her hands. She bit her lip, and she pushed her fist slowly against the closed button. The doors rumbled as they slid shut with a distinctive thud.

She couldn't do it.

There wasn't any way she could do it. Chuck the love of her life into this swirling portal to hell, this portal that ultimately lead to his death. This thing, deep down, it really was some hollowed shell of the Danny she knew. It was Phantom, not Fenton. But still, to abandon him here...To just toss him back in like discarded trash to be destroyed but his old enemies. She couldn't bear to do that to him.

This thing haunted her. It wasn't Danny. Danny would never treat her or Tucker like this, but she couldn't let this spectral stalker that looked and resembled him so much just be let loose.

She turned her back on the portal, and she walked up the stairs.

Tucker's footsteps hurried for the basement door, opening it when Sam had hit the halfway mark. Sam avoided eye contact.

"Did you do it?" he asked. Sam swallowed, and she shook her head no. She held out the thermos to him.

Tucker slowly came down a step, wincing. Sam jogged up the rest to hand it to him. He smiled a thanks, and he leaned against the wall, hand grasping the railing. They both stared at the thermos. It was silent.

"...Maybe it's best if we...don't…" Tucker said slowly. Sam blinked in surprise. He began to explain himself. "It'd just come back! The ghosts always come back. It'd just escalate, and." He paused, turning it over in his hand. "Not even just for our own sakes. I don't want Jazz to...you know. And it's just...I dunno."

She felt mild relief that they were on the same page. While he didn't say it, she could tell he was thinking the same as her: It wasn't Danny, but how can we still just do this to what used to be him?

"...We can always release him down the line," Sam finally spoke. Tucker only nodded.

123456789

They never released him. The thermos itself was locked, before it was locked again in a safe that only Tucker and Sam knew the combination to. Never once in her life did Sam ever seen the thermos move or shake, voices or anything come from it like she had seen ghosts before him do. It was silent and motionless. The years passed. Life moved on.

They went to the same college together there in Amity Park. Sam reprinted the tickets, and they followed Dumpty Humpty on tour as originally planned. After all...Danny wouldn't have wanted them to put their lives on hold because of his absence. On that trip, they ended up promising each other that it was time to retire from ghost hunting. Or retire as best as you could when you lived in Amity Park. But no more patrols, no more actively seeking out the danger. Losing one friend, they had both decided, was simply way too much already. Losing another would destroy them.

They both graduated, and then suffered together through graduate school as they worked towards their dreams: Forensic science and veterinary medicine. Jazz returned to Amity Park after finishing graduate school herself, freshly married to the love of her life. Before anybody knew it, Jack and Maddie were able to settle into a tear-jerkingly wonderful role: grandparents.

Tucker eventually met a girl and got married. Despite her claims that she could never love again after Danny, Sam did find somebody that she fell hard for, and she married too. Along with Jazz, they settled into their lives within America's most haunted city. Sure, ghosts were a common sighting. But it was home, and none of them could ever imagine a life anywhere else. They all remained close. Their children grew up with Jazz's, and they played together.

Over time, Jazz and her parents had all questioned, at least once a year, how they'd feel if they saw Danny's ghost. A natural curiosity and worry for the ghost hunting family. Jack and Maddie had continued their life's work with a surprisingly different attitude to it. More brutal, yet more sympathetic. But that was likely a natural reaction when you study ghosts and had to bury your child after their death at the hands of a ghost. Knowing that your baby boy died to a ghost, but also having that worry at the back of your mind of seeing them once more as a creature you openly hated.

Tucker and Sam always remained quiet during the Fentons' discussions on the matter, or they said minimal. They kept up their masquerade of being a bit curious, but overall disinterested. They did everything they could to even avoid the topic if possible. Of course they knew the truth, but they never spoke a word of it. Not even to Jazz.

Because after that final night, as they drove back to Sam's house, she and Tucker made a pact. They'd take that horror show they went through to their graves, forever leave the family clueless. There was no reason to ever utter a word about the experience anyway. Tucker and Sam knew Danny Fenton. He was their best friend for the entirety of their childhood and teenhood, the hero of Amity Park, like a brother to Tucker and Sam's first true love. And that thing that haunted them those October nights so many years ago just simply wasn't Danny Fenton anymore.

[rainbows-fanfics]

The Heart of the Spider

Summary: Jack goes off to to find Sally, reunite with her, and save the Town. Except things are different now, and they don't go according to plan.

Pairing: Jack Skellington/Sally

Warning: LOTS OF ANGST.

----

He was fast to get to his wanted destination, the words of the Hanging Tree and the Corpse Child repeating relentlessly in his skull. It was a fear he wouldn't wish to impose on anyone, not even his worst enemy - the encumbering feeling of knowing the person you loved was in danger. That they were taken beyond their will, forced into imprisonment, and possibly tortured or manipulated when you weren't there. And that was the fear Jack had to face as he raced across the Graveyard, refusing to imagine his beloved harmed in any way, or treated anymore as a slave than she already had been. That had been his fault from the start: forcing his people to succumb to the rule of a manipulative, sadistic murderer whose purpose was tormenting anyone he could get his hands on... When Ethan told him Oogie's baddies had kidnapped Sally, he didn't know what to think. It was an initial form of both shock and anger - their previous encounter on that fateful Christmas day rang true to his mind. Surely Boogie had learned nothing by taking someone so dear to him, the same person who ultimately determined his fate the moment he decided to keep her in his clutches...the woman whom he had taken now, except this time, Jack wasn't there to swoop in and save her. And that was the concern gnawing at his bones as he pressed his heels further into the dirt, kicking up the remnants of dead bugs and disturbed cobwebs as he arrived at the crypt.

He felt so confident when the plan of a rescue mission became clear to him. But the exhilaration that fueled him on the way somehow diminished, and was now replaced with wariness as he looked over the tall building. Not only was he dealing with the possibility that the love of his death may be harmed, or trapped, or captured, or possibly dismembered somewhere inside - but when all is well, he'd have to face her. After 2 months of leaving Sally alone, to fend for herself in these dangerous times...after a long time of being away from her; dealing with the consequences of his absence. It was him who put her in this position, who couldn't be there when she truly needed it. And if that didn't eat away at what was left of his confidence, he was sure it would eat away at hers.

He took all of this in a brief moment of pause, then resumed his way by walking through the empty corridors. He looked around in search of her red yarn hair, or anything that stuck out from the grayness of the walls and the dust collected in the air. But he didn't have to go very far before he found a figure standing across the large room, their gaze locked on the floor with their arms clutched to their side. He felt a hefty triumph in his chest as his eye sockets widened. He couldn't stop her name from slipping off of his tongue. The name of a woman whom he missed dearly, and craved again for a long time...a beautiful ragdoll that he worried so much about, to be in one-piece, and perfectly okay! "Sally!" She became aware of his presence instantly and jumped. She turned quickly to face him. Both of their gazes met for a solid minute. And in that time, Jack inched closer to her figure, strutting at a quicker pace to get to her and reunite with his love again. To have her scream his name, run into his arms, and hold her close in compensation of their lack of contact for the past 2 months...for everything to be left behind them, and to be fully reconciled. To finally hear her voice again and stroke her soft cheeks, to run his hands through her yarn hair again and know that, this time, he's truly home. But when he got a better look at her, he recognized that something was different. Something that was most likely resulted from his negligence. She was crying.

The moment he saw the tears stream down her face, he wanted nothing more than to console her. And that's what he did - stepping up and wrapping his arms around her smaller figure, bringing her as close as possible to him. She didn't fight or protest, but turned very weak in his arms as she clutched at his sleeves. He could feel her tears falling on his undershirt, and every time he heard her sniffle, his bones grew more numb. This moment lasted for several minutes, with Jack combing his hands through her hair and using the other to rub her back. She dug her head further in his chest and he felt her grip start to tighten. Her fingers began to wobble and so did her legs, and he had to keep an arm around her waist to stop her from falling.

"It's alright," He assured her. "Shhh. It's okay. I'm here now."

She shook her head gently. "Jack....you're finally back..."

Her sniffling started to cease, but the tears were still very prominent. He began to sway them a little to the side, trying to assure her that his presence was real and he was there now. "--Things will be okay now, my love. I'm here to fix everything."

He finally gets a better look at her eyes as she slowly brings her head up and gazes at him. She reached an arm to his skull to caress the side of her finger along his jaw. He took his bony hand to bring it to hers and give it a slight squeeze. Another noise emerged from her mouth, but it wasn't a sob. It was a sound of relief. His chest softened when he felt her squeeze back, but she withdrew her hand to remove herself from him. The moment their embrace was broken, Jack was enveloped in a cold feeling. He was dumbfounded when she turned away from him to clasp her hands down at her waistline, staring through the large window that illuminated the room.

"You've been gone for a...a very long time, now." "I know I have. It was...a lot longer than I intended. I meant to come back a lot sooner."

Her eyes drifted down to the floor again. She continues, very quietly, "The town has changed a lot. When Oogie took over - things took a turn for the worst. Everyone had to hide, and the few who were unfortunate had to serve Oogie. We've needed you more than we ever had before."

She finally turned to look him in the eye sockets. He recognized the dull look in her eyes, the presence of stoicism striking through his bones as if they were paper. Her next words make him ache even more, the reality impounded relentlessly into his skull. "-But you weren't there."

"I..."

He failed to get the right words out. She stared at him for a few moments before turning away again, crossing her arms over her chest and digging her hands deeply into her skin. He took a step towards her, to place his hand on her shoulder and remind her that he was there now, but then he saw her flinch. He didn't know what hurt worse at that moment - facing the cruel results of his mistakes, or knowing that he had broken one of his promises to Sally. "I'm so sorry. And I wouldn't say that if I didn't mean it. I wasn't thinking when I put Dr. Finklestein in charge of the town while I was gone. I should've let the Mayor handle everything. I could've stayed longer, to make sure you were okay. Or brought you with me. That's what I should've done. Not-"

"You shouldn't have left us."

Those words left her throat in sobs. He reached out to touch her again, but she stepped back before he could, which very well was the equivalence of a knife piercing his phantom heart several times. She was only telling him the honest truth - facts he needed to hear. And right now, he needed to hear what Sally had to say. "You're our leader, Jack. Everyone relies on you. They look to you for guidance, for your protection, and most of all, they trust you. What I just don't understand is..." She knitted her eyebrows together before drawing her eyes slowly up to him. "Why did you leave when everything you've ever wanted was right in front of you?" He pursed his lips. That hit him like a stone wall. And every part of it was true. That was something he realized far before he ever took that trip - on Christmas night, when he attempted to fill the emptiness in his soul by taking over someone else's holiday, where he learned that all he truly wanted was someone to understand and love him for who he is. And he got that. He had Sally in his death now. Someone so kind and understanding, who risked everything for him...she had been by his side ever since, and he left her. Why did he ever leave? Why had he felt so discomforted with his death again? When all he needed was to just take the further step...that would've prevented the town being taken over, and it certainly wouldn't have resulted to this.

At his silence, the tears returned to Sally's eyes, falling down even faster this time as she conceals her face with her hands. He went to hold her again, but stopped himself short. Even someone as clueless as him could take the hint...he couldn't pretend everything was fine. That he could magically make everything better just because he's back. He had to patch things up one at a time, slowly progress through them...and gaining Sally's trust again...dare say, her affection once more...that was something he had to naturally do. Not impose it on her in any way.

"Sally...I understand you're upset with me. You have every right to be. And I don't feel good about what I did. Not at all. I left just to realize that I should have stayed all along. I can't even begin to imagine everything I put you through. You and the town...it's my fault everyone is where they are, and it's my job to fix everything and set things right." She doesn't say anything, which adds to the weight on his shoulders. The guilt churned some more in his rib cage as the silence prolonged. He was always thankful for Sally being so understanding, but if he had screwed up so bad that she even she couldn't forgive him, then he knew he made the biggest mistake of his death. The last thing he ever wanted was to lose her, but it gave him unimaginable pain just to know that he had hurt her. He wasn't sure if he could live knowing he shattered her faith in him. "Do you know..." She wiped the tears from her eyes. "Do you know how much I worried about you? How much I looked at your house and wondered where you could be? Some even thought you were dead, and I..." She stopped to swallow. "I didn't know what to think. I didn't hear from you for so long, and I got so lonely. When Oogie took over, I didn't know if you'd ever come back. And what hurt the most, Jack, is that you never said goodbye." Her eyes, now very moist, met with his. Her words hit him like bullets. "You never told me why you wanted to leave. You didn't talk to me much and, before I knew it, you were just...gone." She rubbed the side of her arm slowly. "It hurt knowing you didn't open up to me. That you didn't trust me to know or, or that you didn't even bother telling me why. I thought I was your dearest friend, and we promised we'd listen to each other..."

She started to cry again. He couldn't take it anymore and threw himself on her, taking her hands and holding them tightly in his own. This brought her gaze to his, her eyes reddened and her cheeks completely covered in tears. He could feel her shaking under his grasp, but it wasn't out of fear. It was out of dejection and misery, and he was the cause of it. He couldn't bare that thought. He couldn't handle anymore of hearing how much he had hurt the only person he loved more than anything else in the world. He couldn't forgive himself for doing this to her.

"I love you. I love you with all my heart, my soul, my being, Sally...You're the one for me, and I'm the one for you." His grip softened when he realized he was hurting her. He rubbed her palm apologetically. "It was selfish of me, what I did. It was wrong, it was selfish, and it was...it was unforgivable. You mean everything to me, but these past 2 months, I made it feel like you didn't matter. Which is the last thing I ever wanted to do." He felt the tears threaten to leave his own eye sockets. He held them back, but they stung as he continued, "--The fact that you're doubting you were ever my dearest friend...well, that's the worst thing I've ever done to you. The truth is that you're the love of my death, Sal. You always have been. Even as careless and selfish as I can be, you were always there for me. But I wasn't there for you." He noticed her cheeks were starting to dry. "You don't ever have to forgive me, but I want you to know that leaving you was absolute torture, and being without you for so long hurt in ways I can't describe. You've always been my reason, and after everything is fixed, Sally, I promise...you won't ever have to go through something like this ever again. And that's a promise I'll keep, I swear to God." Her eyes tear up again, but he there's a different look in them now. They're sparkling, filled with relief and joy. He wiped the rest of the tears off for her. When he withdrew his hand, he noticed the small smile growing on her lips. Then he felt a wave of relief wash over him, and the weight finally lifted off his shoulders. But he knew there was going to be a very long time after this...a time where he had to prove to her that he'll be keeping his word on this. That he'll treat her so much better than what he put her through. To regain her trust and...and possibly-

"I love you too, Jack...I just-AH!"

In the midst of her sentence, a web circled around Sally repeatedly before taking her off to the ceiling. Jack jumped in surprise and naturally reached for her, but a ginormous spider jumped down in front of him before he could get to her. He had to take several steps back and shielded himself from its screech. When he looked above, he found the love of his death hanging precariously from the ceiling. Clenching his bony fists, he knew just what he had to do now.