#every attempt at telling me im wrong has just proven my point

[bluerasbunny]

if one more person tries to argue with me about the fnaf books canonization to the games and tell me its not an inaccessible, greedy and stupid decision im going to explode. it is greedy, it is inaccessible and it is stupid.

[bigskydreaming]

@spikeface

ohhhh hell yeah I have not forgotten, like I tend to keep the examples limited to interactions with Scott to point out the blatant double standards in play but also because I am so tired of the abuse apologism arguments that come with any criticism of Derek’s actions in regards to teenage characters in the first two seasons in general, like, I know the dude had a hard time that doesn’t mean paying that forward is an acceptable standard of behavior for interacting with scared and vulnerable teenagers. ALSO not to bring it back around to Scott AGAIN but also umm Im me so okay I will I have the go-ahead, but like......literally every single argument and justification people make about Derek’s behavior and choices in the first two seasons because of what happened with Kate and how he doesn’t trust people because of that and he’s traumatized is rendered null and void by their simultaneous bullshit insistence that none of this logic means anything when it comes to Scott and.....wait for it....what happened with Theo and trust and traumatized or does being betrayed by someone you were starting to consider a good friend and murdered not count as trauma? I forget.

You can’t have it both ways but people are like Yes I can *rolls up sleeves* watch me.

Aaaaaand since we’re already here, why not, I’m going for it, soooooo getting in on the ground floor before people are like WELL THAT’S DIFFERENT BECAUSE STILES TRIED TO WARN SCOTT SO HE SHOULD’VE KNOWN UNLIKE DEREK WHO COULDN’T HAVE, umm: 

a) that’s not how trust works, its not by proxy, you either trust someone or you don’t and someone else telling you that you shouldn’t does not in fact render a betrayal of trust any less a betrayal of trust, this is LITERALLY just victim-blaming the betrayed, something that people are absolutely aware of because just imagine the shrieks of protest if someone were to posit an AU where someone warned Derek not to trust Kate but he still did anyway and so that made everything else that happened all his fault. 

b) you do not owe even your best friends unconditional trust in every opinion they have OVER your own opinions, it honestly truly DEEPLY makes me uncomfortable how often people raise this point because Stiles could distrust Theo all he wanted, Scott is still entitled to his own opinions based on his own perceptions of his own interactions with Theo, which were different than Stiles’ interactions, and Scott was in no way, shape or form obligated to uphold Stiles’ perceptions and interactions of and with Theo as more important than Scott’s own, what even is that wtfuckery

c) Stiles’ distrust of Theo was unfortunately watered down and diluted by the fact that he was lying to Scott and keeping secrets from him for weeks, which was his right and he was traumatized himself by what happened with Donovan, but the flip side of that is Scott was keenly aware that Stiles was lying to him about stuff and even had a whole freaking monologue about it and how he wished Stiles would just talk to him and tell him what he was hiding and in what universe is someone obligated to unconditionally believe their friend and abide by what they’re saying and wanting WHILE AT THE EXACT SAME TIME being lied to by that same friend? 

d) Stiles’ distrust of Theo was additionally watered down and diluted by the fact that even after he had actual foolproof evidence that Theo was a liar and not to be trusted, he refrained from informing Scott of this because he prioritized his own feelings about what might come out about him in the process of telling Scott, which again, was absolutely his right to do and be worried about but it is NOT his right to be retroactively extradited from any role he played in Scott’s perceptions of events that season by not divulging this information even while actively still JUDGING Scott for not acting on information re: Theo that Scott literally did not have to act upon, just his own interactions with Theo where Theo was actively and continually working on being seen as not only trustworthy but INVALUABLE in Scott’s eyes, while everyone else was off preoccupied with their own stuff leaving Scott with no one BUT Theo to turn to. Which was literally Theo’s entire plan in dividing them in order to make Scott vulnerable in the first place, just as Scott ultimately was more victimized by Theo than any of the other surviving members of S5 as he was the one y’know, MURDERED, but again let’s talk some more about how it was Stiles and everyone else who was more betrayed and let down by Scott’s choice to trust Theo than Scott was himself 

(and so help me GOD if someone brings up Josh or Tracy like they give a fuck about them, lolol, fun fact, but most of the posts about Josh and Tracy in S5 while it was airing were mine, like, 90% of their tags was me posting, yeah c’mon guys we’re aware I can be prolific when I hyper-fixate I’m not exaggerating here lol I POSTED ABOUT JOSH A LOT OKAY lololol. So I keenly remember the weeks between Josh’s death episode and the episode which revealed that Scott got to Deucalion before Theo did, because that was two whole weeks of people being like who the fuck cares about Josh, other than like, me and some mutuals, until the SECOND fandom found a way to spin Scott as being tangentially responsible for Josh’s death, at which point suddenly it was like OMG JOSH WE LOVED YOU ALL ALONG, WE’RE SO SORRY THAT MONSTER DID THIS TO YOU. The whiplash would be hilarious if I didn’t hate it so much)

e) Stiles’ distrust of Theo was additionally watered down and diluted by the fact that he was WRONG about everything he initially brought up as WHY he distrusted Theo, his whole thesis to Scott at the start of the season was that he didn’t trust Theo because he remembered Theo from fourth grade and Theo wasn’t Theo but uh.....yes he was. He wanted Scott not to trust Theo on a basis that was flawed and had no grounding in reality other than Stiles’ own unreliable gut instincts with no care or concern whatsoever for Scott’s own gut instincts, and simultaneously, Stiles in the throes of being like THEO IM ON TO YOU YOU FAKER (Theo in the distance: Lol no you’re not, you just don’t like me, there’s a difference), ANYWAY, Stiles at the exact same time as being focused on not just Theo but what he felt Scott SHOULD be doing and thinking in regards to Theo and Stiles’ opinions, somehow managed to completely overlook and give no fucks about Scott’s ACTUAL thoughts and actions re: Theo, as if he had been paying more attention to the actual character of his friend rather than just his perception and assumptions about his friend, he would have noticed that Scott DIDN’T blindly trust Theo from the start, because Scott DOESN’T actually blindly trust anyone and actually has trust issues out the wazoo from all the times he’s been hurt, betrayed and let down by people he cares about from his deadbeat dad to the many murder and manipulation attempts of Peter, whom he has canonically never trusted despite Stiles’ insistence that he even trusts Peter (lol where? when? source?).....ergo, ipso facto, forsooth and all that good shit.....Stiles wanted Scott’s complete obedience and allegiance in S5 to everything he said and thought while at the exact same time giving no fucks about anything going on WITH Scott himself. Hashtag friendship goals, am I right guys?

f) the fatal flaw of the Sciles schism in S5 was not in fact the warring opinions on Scott and Stiles’ respective trust and distrust of Theo, but rather what S5 revealed about Scott and Stiles’ respect trust and distrust of EACH OTHER. In point of fact, the only thing truly revealed by the events of that season is that Scott doesn’t automatically trust just anyone, but that his trust must be EARNED - a process Theo invested considerable effort in doing, as he actually paid attention to Scott and the actuality of things he said and did and why - and that Stiles in contrast doesn’t just automatically distrust anyone, but rather makes snap judgments about whether or not to PUT his trust in others based on what he’s feeling. 

Basically, my point is that Scott views trust as a function of information gathering and ultimately a decision to put it to the test or not, to actually just say okay based on what I know and feel at this point, I am making the choice NOW to trust in someone. Stiles in contrast, views trust as something he doesn’t fundamentally NEED in his interactions with people, and as such he uses it to shore up and buttress various other things about himself and his interactions with people. 

This is why Scott started out the season WITH reservations about Theo, that led to him asking Deaton questions about how vulnerable he and his pack might be due to allowing a strange newcomer into their midst, but ultimately placing more and more trust in Theo as the season went on, BASED on Theo’s ongoing campaign to win Scott’s trust by seeming trustworthy and helpful and supportive. 

Meanwhile, Stiles started out the season WITH reservations about Theo, that informed all his actions regarding Theo UNTIL he got concrete proof that Theo was a liar, BUT continued to interact with Theo and even work alongside him even KNOWING he wasn’t trustworthy, because trust was not after all the most important element informing his actions because it never HAD been. More importantly, the reason this all plays more into Scott and Stiles’ view of each other than anything to do with Theo, was because the ONLY reason Theo was able to play them against each other was Theo keyed into the fact that Stiles, despite placing a lot of importance in the IDEA of trust, never actually fully makes the leap into actually PLACING his trust in ANYONE, even someone like his best friend Scott, who has proven MULTIPLE times how invaluable Stiles is to him.....because if Stiles ever HAD fully placed his trust in Scott, he would have been able to look at the concrete precedent of Scott saying throughout the entire nogitsune ordeal that he flat out didn’t CARE if people died because of the nogitsune, because of Stiles himself, he wasn’t going to sacrifice Stiles to save the lives of strangers he just simply doesn’t value as being more important to him than Stiles himself. 

And by extension, if Stiles HAD ever fully placed his trust in Scott after this, then his fears about Donovan would have fallen by the wayside as - just like it was ultimately proven out in 5B after Scott heard the WHOLE story and not the parts Theo told him backed up by the lies of ommission Stiles HADN’T told Scott and the fact that Scott had been keyed into Stiles’ feelings of guilt over something for weeks - Scott would then have expressed to Stiles just as he ultimately DID express to Stiles: that he can tell the difference between self-defense and cold-blooded murder, and Stiles killing Donovan in self-defense was not a problem for Scott and NEVER WAS OR WOULD HAVE BEEN.

In conclusion, the biggest issue in S5 is not that Scott trusts everyone, its that even after everything, Stiles still doesn’t even trust Scott.

And if you can’t trust the best friend who’s proven that he will literally do anything for you, at any time, just say the word, to such an extent that you’ll pull back from him and refrain from working with him and being around him AT THE EXACT SAME TIME as demonstrating that you will be around and work alongside someone you don’t even like and definitely do not trust.....

Then trust is not the be all and end all for you, and it never actually was, and if you can’t grant it to even your friend why does your friend owe you his, let alone UNCONDITIONAL trust in not just you, but every opinion and course of action you advocate for?

*bangs gavel* The defense rests. Or the prosecution rests. Fuck, I forgot which side I’m on. Am I accusing or defending? Idek.

Whatever. I rest.

[mileycyprus-hill]

Chpt 1, Chpt 2, Chpt 3, Chpt 4, Chpt 5

Also can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22218607/chapters/58951003

Thank you to @oodanijadeoo​ for beta-reading this chapter and giving such great, constructive feedback! 

Chapter 6

You leave the apartment above Dr. Birner’s office with reluctance, thinking back to that brief period you were recuperating. You were in a peaceful limbo. No worries, no anxious thoughts of the future. For one week, you lied there with your infant son, living in the moment. You basked in his cherubic glory and thought of nothing else. For all you knew, there was nothing beyond those four walls. Just you and Isaiah.

And it was perfect.

You remember feeling Arthur’s eyes on you. He’d visit once a day at the apartment and spend a few nights on the floor of your room, despite your small protests. While holding Isaiah in his arms after his feeding, you’d catch that particular look Arthur gave you. It was a look of uncertainty; a question begging to be asked.

That question tortures you both.

He didn’t want to ask it and you didn’t want to hear it, but you both knew it had to be said.

Now, you finally have the strength to walk and ride in the jostling wagon without pain. The reality of your situation soon returns as you lie in the wagon. Leaning back on the mattress that comfortably lines the bed of the wagon, you look over to Susan who sits by your side. She holds your infant son in the swaddle of a soft wool blanket, gently caressing his cheek with her index finger.

It’s not often you get to see Susan grow soft like this. Her life has been ridden hard and rough and it often shows in her moods. One can hardly blame her. She’s proven she’s come out of it stronger and more alive than any other woman on earth.

You envy her strength.

Swaying with the rolling wagon wheels on the trail, you replay the conversations in your head: Dutch, Arthur, Dr. Birner. All of them asking for a decision. All of them telling you what’s best.

Can any decision be the right decision? You wonder.

.…

Arthur has become an enigma to you in these passing days, you realize. He often gives Isaiah attention and offers help whenever he can. But something deep down inside you gives you this cynical notion that he’s saving himself up. That he’s only doing these things and acting paternal to get you to trust him.

He’s going to have to play his cards soon, and he needs an ace.

You try to shake these thoughts away, but they soon return whenever Dutch checks on you both on numerous occasions.

“Has a decision been made between you two?” He would ask.

His check-ins are a now weekly occurrence. So often that you now avoid crossing his path so he won’t have a chance to bring it up.

You hope you could reply ‘no’ long enough that he’d soon give up. You’re too fearful to say what you truly want. And you know Dutch is not one to forget or give up.

But you truly hope this time he would.

However, you forget the one person Dutch could still corner and persuade to change this whole situation.

Arthur.

…

It’s three months to the day of Isaiah’s birth and you worry if you can finally breathe. You hope to continue with the routine of a child in the gang now that it’s been long enough; allow the members of the gang to grow attached. Little Isaiah grows stronger and more lovable each day. Even John has taken a liking to him. He approaches you and Isaiah sitting underneath a shady lean-to. You sit cross-legged on the blanket while supporting Isaiah in your hands. His little back lays on your forearms, with his soft head resting in your palms. The ruffled hem of his crisp, white baby gown cascades down your arm. The sun was so warm before you retreated to the shade. Through the light cotton, you can still feel a little sweat on his back from the desert heat.

“Can I hold him?” John asks meekly. He slowly drops to his knees before you and watches Isaiah curiously.

Looking up at John, you reply, “Sure. Make sure to support his neck, and watch his head.”

You adjust your baby in your arms and carefully transfer him to John, who fearfully holds him like holding a wounded animal. John keeps an elbow awkwardly high to support Isaiah’s head and you hold back a chuckle at the sight of him. The corner of his lip upturns into a nervous smile.

He catches you grinning at him and his face turns sour.

“What’s so funny?” He asks defensively.

You reply genuinely, “Nothing. Just…you look cute together.”

You watch as Isaiah babbles and attempts to grab at the strange young man holding him. His chubby legs kick and kick with such energy and excitement of seeing a new person.

John scoffs at your remark and opens his mouth to retort. Though he’s quickly distracted by Isaiah wiggling in his arms and he grows nervous at keeping him still.

“Uhhh,” John groans uncomfortably. “I think..oh shit, I’m gonna drop him.”

You giggle and quickly relieve John of his anxiety, fluidly scooping Isaiah from his stiff arms into yours. Isaiah babbles and squeals in your arms, testing his voice with his high pitches. The soothing rocking of your arms and the heat of the air settles his excitement and he soon grows weary.

For several minutes, you and John watch his eyelids slowly fall and rise every couple of seconds as he jerks himself awake, kicking a leg and trying his hardest not to sleep. He’d attempt this a few times until he could no longer fight it. The warmth and comfort of your body allows him to relax and finally sleep in your arms.

John sits cross-legged in front of you in silence, watching Isaiah fall into a deep sleep. He watches his little stubby fingers attempt to grip at your forearm tightly before relaxing. Moving his gaze up to your face, John notices your smile is gone and replaced with a forlorn look.

He asks quietly, “What’s wrong?”

The heavy weight of guilt grows in your chest and you lift your head with glassy eyes. As you break your attention away from Isaiah to John, your chin quivers and a rogue tear slides down your cheek. With a shaky breath, you answer.

“I’m afraid,” You say with a cracked voice. “I thought everything would be better once he’d be born but, I feel trapped.”

John looks to you with understanding. For the past few months, he’s watched you and Arthur struggle against each other. He had secretly grown proud of how strong you kept yourself under Arthur and Dutch’s pressure. He knows Arthur’s only reciting what Dutch tells him, never thinking for himself and that aggravates John. He thinks himself far younger than Arthur and yet so much more headstrong and independent. John had been watching you struggle with your options in silence and he worries you’ll choose one you’ll regret.

This is his opportunity to tell you what he thinks.

He attempts to console you, speaking quietly and honestly.

“Everyone loves him, (Y/N). I can see that.” He says.

Another tear escapes your eye, painting your cheek.

“It don’t seem to matter how much everyone loves him,” you croak. “What matters is what Dutch thinks and what kind of life he should have.”

“But your life’s been better since you joined. And mine. And Arthur’s!” John exclaims in a hush. “Don’t you think? What makes ‘im think we can’t give him the best life with us?”

John points to Isaiah who remains unstirred in your arms.

“Because we’re criminals, John.” You say with dread, letting Dutch’s repeated lectures finally sink in.

“And who’s to say I won’t resent him later on? Treat him like my parents did me?”

Those last words tear into your heart like a jagged blade. Who’s to say you won’t inherit your parents awful temperament towards your child? Will you truly love him as he grows, or will you see him as just a mistake that took your freedom away?

John’s words grow heated in response to your self deprecation.

“Cause you’re not them, (Y/N),” he hisses through his teeth in frustration, “You’re better than them. I know you love Isaiah. Because if you didn’t, you’d leave him the first chance you get.”

He speaks bitterly in remembrance of his own childhood. The grief from loss and abandonment is all too familiar to him. He stares at Isaiah with his dark eyes glowing in a mix of resentment and woe. He knows from experience that little Isaiah is too fragile to live and grow without the love of a mother. Or a father.

“Just promise me one thing, will ya?” He asks, his own voice cracked and quiet.

Staying silent, you look into his eyes and nod.

“Don’t send him to an orphanage…please. Find him a family. A good one.” He confides solemnly. His head droops low and he lightly fumbles with the tip of his boot.

“Of course, John…” You assure him.

With his head still held low, John reaches forward and grasps at Isaiah’s hand. He holds the tiny hand in between his thumb and index finger, rubbing at the top of Isaiah’s hand with his thumb. Isaiah remains asleep while he curls his little fingers over John’s finger, holding onto him tightly.

“I promise.” You whimper through quiet tears.

…

The sun is dropping from its high noon perch and its heat begins to cool into the late afternoon. You stand by the food wagon, behind the work table with a variety of vegetables laid before you. Carrots and parsnips in orange, purple and white and fresh, crisp celery lay in bright contrast against the dark and scratched wooden table.

Your heart remains sunken from your gloomy exchange with John, and the mundane task of prepping supper has left your mind open to racing thoughts of what-if’s and should-I’s.

You barely hear the familiar footsteps belonging to the one who shares those thoughts with you. Both of your minds are unknowingly linked with troubled ruminations. The heavy strides step forward to you while your head remains low and your eyes focused on the rations before you. The tip of his boots come into view at the corner of your eyes, but you don’t react.

“(Y/N),” Arthur greets with hesitation, “We need to talk.”

“About what?” You ask, sensing his mood and growing on edge.

You already know what he wants to talk about, but you want to hear him say it. You want him to reflect on the terrible request before speaking.

Arthur fidgets with a carrot on the wooden table, rolling it back and forth on the un-level surface with his dirty hands. The speed of the rolls grow with your mutual irritance. He feels the tips of his ears flushing red. This decision hurts him too, but he hopes to make it quick before it can get worse. Never has he made such a paramount decision like this. The life he was thrust into at a young age taught him to react, to not waste time with decisions of morality, only survival.

In the past several years, he often left these choices to Dutch, because the man would take it upon himself to do so. This was something that Arthur had grown used to. Something he trusted.

Leave it to me, son. I’ll think of something. Dutch’s words echo in Arthur’s ears.

But how can Arthur tell you? Standing before him with a knife in your hands, how can he tell you that while he doesn’t like it either, it’s actually for the best?

The knife in your hand hits against the cutting board a little harder with each slice.

Watching you carefully, Arthur speaks, “I wanna talk about us.”

You involuntarily crease your eyebrows in confusion, your eyes squinting and still focusing on the vegetables. The smell of boiling beef stock in the pot next to you would’ve made you sick just a few months ago before Isaiah was born, but you’re too irritated to care now.

Neither of you wanted to cross this road again. But there’s only so many detours you can take before you reach the fork again.

Your voice slices into him like the knife through the carrot, which you snatch from his light grip.

“What makes you think there’s an ‘us’?” You say bitterly. Your tone is a little more than a hurried breath, but is loud in your heart.

Ignoring your bite, Arthur rests his hands on the table and leans his weight forward on them. He drops his chin low, watching your hands work quickly in repetitive movements.

“I wanna know what your plan is. For Isaiah.” He says.

The knife stops in your hand and your grip tightens against the handle.

“It’s too early, Arthur. He’s only three months old yet.” You say, steadying the frightened tremble in your voice.

He leans himself further over the table, bringing his face closer to yours but you keep your gaze low to the chopped vegetables, only feeling his breath on your forehead as he speaks.

“I know, but when? The longer we wait, the harder it’s gonna be.” Arthur speaks in a distinct whisper, meant for your ears only and no other.

If your thoughts hadn’t been racing, you could’ve detected the fear and reluctance in his voice as he spoke. You could’ve noticed the tremors in his hands and fingers, left empty to tremble in fear without an item to fidget with. You could’ve seen the tension in his broad shoulders growing stiff at the emotional weight that bears down on them.

“I don’t know when, Arthur.” You spit, “I can’t think with everyone breathing down my neck like this.”

“But you ain’t alone—“

“Oh, I ain’t?” You finally draw your gaze to him and stare into his eyes with a painful glare. “I don’t think you understand. You may be his father but, in the end it’s my decision to make. Not anyone else’s, regardless of what they think.”

“Just lemme help,” Arthur pleads.

“I think you’ve done enough,” you reply bitterly, “You’re a father now, Arthur. Start actin’ like one.”

Your words flood his ears and leave an awful dry pit in the back of his throat. He remains silent, allowing your statement to pierce him and the venom to fill his veins. It makes its way to his heart, filling it in each painful contraction.

You finish your harsh words, “Now leave me alone.”

Arthur complies and turns away. He takes his first step to leave before stopping himself.

With a slight pivot of his head, he utters, “Y’know, you keep this up and soon you will be alone with no one else to blame but yerself.”

…

Three weeks pass and you refuse to start the conversation again, despite Arthur’s pressing. Deep down you wonder, is it selfish of you to want to keep Isaiah? To keep Arthur tied to you this way?

You would never try to keep Arthur leashed to camp like a dog; to hold him hostage in a false sense of domesticity. You’re more than willing to raise this child on your own. Even if Arthur had this sudden change of heart and wanted to be rid of his mistake. You at least, are mature enough to step up to the plate, you tell yourself.

It’s been a few days since you’ve seen Arthur and John. They had been sent by Hosea to follow a tip about a train carrying payroll for a silver mine. After your argument with Arthur, you found yourself distancing from him again. Which you hated and it caused you much pain, but you forced yourself to; to avoid hurting Arthur again with such unkind words.

Laying Isaiah down to bed in your tent, you step out to walk across camp, towards Hosea’s tent. You see him sitting in his chair in front of his large tent, reading a book like always. An oil lamp sits beside him on a small table, cascading him in a soft, golden glow. Your thoughts remained troubled lately, and you hope Hosea would preach some wise words to calm your worries.

You hear hushed voices from behind one of the supply wagons and slow your pace, eyes slowly peering to the covered wagon. You stop with your feet planted when you recognize them.

“She’s still nursing, Dutch.” A voice whispers. Miss Grimshaw. “It’s too early to separate them.” She says. You detect apprehension in her tone.

“I know that Susan. But think about this. We’re getting too comfortable here and the law is startin’ to notice. We’ve got to move now, and we can’t travel with a baby. It’s too dangerous.” A deep, authoritative voice persuades.

Dutch.

He continues, “She needs to think about that. We need to think about the rest of the gang. We can’t afford any distractions.”

“But—“

“No. Exceptions cannot be afforded now. This is the safest option…for everyone.”

“And Arthur?”

A pause lingers.

“He’ll understand.”

Stepping swiftly and quietly, you turn to retreat to your tent. Closing the flaps of the entrance, you sob quietly into your hands. A few short cries are muffled by your palms. Your heart hammers in your chest and its beats roar loudly in your ears. After a moment, you release yourself with a deep, shaky breath.

We’re leaving? No, no, no, no. Not now. Not right now.

This can’t be happening.

Your cot gently creaks as you lie on your side and watch Isaiah. He sleeps soundly and unstirred in the little bassinet next to you. Earlier this week, you were persuaded by Hosea to have your tent moved closer to Arthur’s instead of near the perimeter, away from everyone else. Even though you were oblivious, Hosea could see the wanting in Arthur’s eyes as he watched you and Isaiah together. Arthur wants to help. He truly does. Unfortunately, you were blind to it.

“Closer to his father,” Hosea’s words repeat in your thoughts. “Make him get up with you when Isaiah wakes in the middle of the night. Don’t think you gotta do this all by yourself.”

A swirl of voices and past conversations enter and exit your anxious mind. You try so hard to silence them, but they break through the door of your conscience and demand to be heard.

Before long, the demanding voices exhaust you and you fall into a troubled sleep.

You’re walking along a red sand beach. The grains of sand give under your weight and hold onto the shapes of your feet and toes. The tide is low and the dry beach stretches out for miles towards the horizon. The cold white caps of the sea lap gently in the distance. The sky is bleak and gray, and the cold air bites at your exposed skin. You move to draw your shawl closer, but find you’re wearing only a thin, white nightgown made of silk. You find yourself standing alone in the middle of the dry ocean bed, the growing tide laps at your feet. Looking down at your bare feet in the sand, you see your pregnant belly. It’s so large, you can barely see your toes.

A voice calls behind you. It sounds so far away and distorted, you can barely make it out. You want to turn to see who’s calling, but you’re stuck facing the horizon.

Your body feels like it’s stuck in a vat of molasses. Every movement of your muscles is slowed and you’re snapped back to your original stance when you try to break its grip. The unidentifiable hold on you is forcing you to watch the growing tide as the water rises higher and higher. The voice behind you grows louder and louder, its call becoming clearer. It’s a familiar voice shouting your name, and it begs you to return to shore. You desperately want to run to the voice, to be wrapped in its warm embrace, its rich timbre filling your ears, but the hold on you refuses to break.

A white-capped wave rolls towards you, high as the cliffs behind you. The sound of the approaching wave is deafening, like an oncoming train. It muffles the screams and hollers of the voice behind you. You’re knocked back as the wave crashes into you like a wall of stone. A sudden pain jolts like an electric current in your stomach, and something slips out between your legs. You move to grab it with both hands, but it slips out of your grip. Still submerged in the dark waters, you open your eyes and see Isaiah sinking below you. His cries echo in the water. You try to scream his name, but the water fills your lungs and no sound can escape your throat. Swimming further and further down to catch him, he slips out of your grip and you find he’s sinking so much faster.

Reaching your hand out, he seems so close. Just a little more and you can grab his heel. A rough hand grips at your arm, pulling you up towards the surface, away from your baby. You claw at its grip, but it’s holding you so tightly that it digs painfully deep into your muscles and bone. Gold rings adorn the fingers of the hand, with coarse black hair on its knuckles. Screaming and thrashing, you bite and claw at the hand, but its burning grip doesn’t give. Looking back down into the abyss, you can faintly see a speck of your infant child, sinking further down. His cries are still loud in your ears, amplified in the water.

Suddenly, the hand pulls and you break the surface with a deep gasp.

“No!” You cry, throwing your hands up and swinging wildly. Your palm makes contact with warm skin, and you feel a slight sting in your hand as you slap whoever’s holding you.

A booming voice curses above you, “Dammit!”

Opening your tear-filled eyes, you see Dutch holding a hand to his temple, rising up off his knees and angrily walking out of your tent. Bewildered, you look around your cramped tent and see Miss Grimshaw kneeling by your cot, trying to calm you down with sweet words. She shushes you and holds your head in her hands, your hair feels wet with sweat against her gentle fingers.

You notice the bassinet beside her is empty and you nearly leap off your cot, trying to push Miss Grimshaw away.

“Where is he?” You frantically ask, “Where’s Isaiah?”

Miss Grimshaw raises her hands up, “He’s fine, (Y/N). Arthur’s got him.”

“Why?” You ask, nearly crying in fear. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Grimshaw answers, “It’s okay. He’s okay. You were just having a nightmare, sweetie.”

Your chest heaves in panic. The images of your nightmare are still vivid in every blink of your eyelids. You struggle to stay standing as you become dizzy, raising a hand to your head.

Miss Grimshaw takes notice and lightly wraps her arms around you.

“It’s alright. Everything’s alright.” She soothes. “Let’s just lie back down. Hmm?”

Suddenly, a sputtered cry comes from outside your tent. Instinctively, you move to run to the source of the sound, until Grimshaw holds you back.

“It’s alright dear. You just rest now…I’ll go get ‘em.” She reassures you.

Your anxious breathing refuses to subside until Arthur steps in with Isaiah in his arms. He’s cozily wrapped in his white cotton blanket, hungrily fussing in Arthur’s thick arms. You reach out and silently ask for your child, to which Arthur grants. He seamlessly transfers little Isaiah from his arms to yours.

Grateful for the familiar weight in your arms, your panic finally begins to subside. Tears roll down your cheeks and you hold back a sob, kissing Isaiah’s warm forehead.

He continues to fuss and cry until you unbutton the front of your nightgown and drop a shoulder to draw him to your exposed breast. You notice Arthur shift uncomfortably at the sight and move to exit your tent.

“Wait, Arthur. It’s ok.” You stop him.

Standing by the entrance, he looks to you and asks, “You sure?”

You nod and pat the empty spot beside you with your free arm. Arthur still hesitates.

“It’s not like you haven’t seen them before.” You remind him.

Arthur gives a tense shrug and responds, “I know but, this is different.”

“Please, Arthur?”

Arthur nods and sits besides you with a tense sigh. He looks over and watches his son suckle at your breast with his tiny yet plump lips. Isaiah’s eyes close while you and Arthur hear the occasional breath through his little nose as he greedily feeds off your nipple.

You finally look over to Arthur and whisper, “Did I wake everyone up?”

Embarrassed for you, Arthur nods and runs his fingers through his thick hair.

“Yeah…guess you had a bad dream. Isaiah was cryin’ and Dutch and Grimshaw were tryin’ to wake you up. All of a sudden, I’m standin’ outside with ’im and I hear you give Dutch a big slap.”

He wraps an arm behind you and rubs his hand on your shoulder. With a small chuckle, he says, “Ain’t seen him get that red in a while. You musta hit him pretty good.”

Wiping the lingering tears from your eyes with your free hand, you smile, “Yeah. My hand still kind of stings.”

Arthur shifts closer to you, wrapping a corner of Isaiah’s blanket over his little bare feet.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asks gently, hoping to ease the tension.

Normally, you had come to Arthur to talk of your dreams or nightmares. He enjoyed deciphering them with you, figuring out what they could mean or what would cause them. But the image of your baby sinking into the black waters makes your heart feel like it was pierced with hot iron. You want to erase it from your mind.

Blinking away a stray tear, you answer, “No. I just wanna forget about it…Will you stay with me though?”

You feel so pitiful in asking, but you’re afraid to go back to sleep. You don’t want to return to that red beach.

You look into Arthur’s tired eyes and silently plead. He grasps your free hand beside him and looks over to Isaiah, whose lips have now released your nipple and remain agape as he sleeps soundly. Arthur nods and offers to take Isaiah from your arms. He gingerly places him in the bassinet while you button up your nightgown. Returning to your cot, he lays behind you and pulls you close. His warm arm wraps around you and he holds your hand in his, intertwining his fingers in yours. He slips his other arm beneath your neck, offering it as a pillow. You let out a shaky breath and allow Arthur’s warmth envelope you. His hot breath upon the back of your neck soon lulls you back into a peaceful, dreamless slumber.

The morning sun has not yet risen as you wake. Through the crack of your tent flaps, the sky is barely lightened to an early morning hue of sapphire, cascading everything on earth with its deep color. Leaving Arthur and Isaiah to sleep behind you, you quietly step through the canvas entrance of your remaining solitude. An unease remains buried in your heart from last night as you step back out to the outside world.

A decision has to be made. Today.

[afterthelastreset]

Rules Of One’s Soul Ch15 A Little Offer P5

(Mak belongs to @wasted-church )

The entirety of the cliffside home was oddly silent other than the furious sounds of scrubbing coming from the other side of the sheap. The outside had gotten slightly darker indicating it mustve been early night at least. The residents were sure feeling it. Seam especially as he relaxed back down into the old armchair, normally he hated water but after getting blasted by ashes he was happy to scrub it off. Took a while for his fur to dry though. Luckily no stitches came loose this time. As for Jevil and Rouxls-

The small gremlin was balancing on his tail watching the working worm with a crestfallen face. Seam could only shake his head and couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor fella. True his uh ....'help' had backfired but considering he was pretty rusty from being locked up for over one hundred years of his life, one couldn't judge him too harshly....Buuuut Rouxls wasn't one to let go easily. It had been proven before.

"Can I help,help?" Jevil gave a hopeful smile to the cleaning worm, who paused for a split second before harshly dunking the sponge he was using into a nearby bucket filled with sudsy water and continued as if he hadn't heard a thing. Making the foolishly hopeful smile from his face vanish a bit, but ever persistent, his tail leaned him forward to be closer to the worm's side where he tried seeing his face. "You shouldn't have to work, work so hard. Im sorry, sorry. So allow me to he-"

A quick snap of a heated glare from the duke silenced the jester into submission, his smile now silently small and he froze at the hatred radiating off him. It got smaller when Rouxls leaned onto his knees. Usually hed tower over Jevil but his current sitting position made for perfect eye level.

"Oh. THOU art sorry." A dry chuckle came from that angry being. "Good. For I amst sorry as well....Im sorry for ever letting mine guard down aground thee!"

Jevil flinched. Hard. And Seam continued to watch calmly from the comfort of the chair, but Kaard didnt care as he already turned his frustrations back to scrubbing the black blotches.

"Im sorry I ever met thee. Im sorry I canst be there for mine boy- He can't even sleep properly without a story let alone runneth an entire kingdom by himself. Imst stucketh cleaning homes likest some maid just to get decent food and all for what? For a smiling foolish worme to come crashing into thine-"

....He froze.....Something gently kneeding his shoulder...

"DON'T TOUCHE ME YOU PLAUGE ON MINE LIFE!!"

The tail that been holding up shot back the shocked body of the imp as a worm reared his full anger towards him for trying to put a hand on his shoulder.

"Why dont'st you doeth what thou doeseth best and playest games elsewhere?!"

With that the duke snapped back around to the floor ignoring any other sad look Jevil gave him. The jester slunk back even further from the duke- An ear perked at a soft chuckle he turned and found it came from the plush cat away from him.

"Your next play has been interesting to say the least. Are you ready to accept defeat old friend?" His smile widened as the small man pouted and promptly huffed at the audacity of the question.

"Absolutely not,not. I just-" Yellow orbs glanced back shakily to the worm for a split moment before back to the smiling cat. "...Need a new move,move to play."

He chuckled again. "Then may I offer some advice-"

"I can heareth everything thou art saying." Another annoyed glance was thrown over his shoulder.

A paw was held up in defence. "Now, now. I meant no harm but maybe its best Jevil leaves you alone right now."

The smaller man Took one last look to the worm before slowly starting towards the smiling cat. Seam ever so calm reached out and gave the sulking gremlin a pitty pat on the shoulder.

"I dont suppose you would like some tea to help ease the sting of rejection?"

A dark chuckle and smile. "The taste is bittersweet. But I would rather get sweet victory, victory.~"

Deep chuckles came from the cat as his one good eye watched the jester jump onto the couch next to himself, but somehow his forced frustrated grin still seemed to be sad there. It sorta made his cotton shiver with a pang of sorrow, but in a game it was best not to let his guard down too much. Jevil sat down on the couch next to Mak, who was fast asleep in a box filled with different things from gems to random jewelry they probably stole. Took forever to get them to calm down after finding their 'room' ransacked and cleaned out by Rouxls. The purple migit made his frustrated ways known with tapping fingers and strained grin directly towards him in question.

"I just...have a few set backs. Set backs."

"Oh yes. I remember how fondly old couples would chase each other with screams and try to bodily harm one another." He chuckled at the narrowed eyes Jevil have him. "Or maybe not. It's been at least a few hundred years. Hahaha."

"Funny,funny....What have you done, done to get expertise in other's romantical preference?," his voice asked in a low tone. A Jevil way of challenging his knowledge.

To which he shrugged. "I don't. But Id like to think I have enough know how to at least hold a decent conversation and get to know them more."

He could practically hear the gears working in the other's mind as Jevil slowly came to the realization that maybe, just maybe he had something up his sleeve. So when a more questioning look came over him, Seam couldn't help but chuckle.

"Really,really?...Would the Magnificent Seam be willing, willing to....discuss his tutorials? Tutorials.

"Haha. But then wouldn't that be cheating the game old friend?"

One of Jevil's eyelids twitched. Indicating held back annoyance at least. "Hmhm....Perhaps rules could be ...temporary bent,bent?"

It was more of a suggestion than question, but one that made Seam hum with interest anyways. His eye went back to the worm who was stretching his back out with a groan and popping noise from said worm's back. He looked about ready to get done and be one his way. Could it really hurt to exchange a few short insights of his? Jevil waited with hopeful patience as Seam rubbed his chin in thought before looking back to him with a smile.

"I suppose...haha. Two opponents of opposite sides could come to an agreement every so while still searching for victory."

A couple of giggles came his way as Jevil lit back up. "Do tell. Do tell."

"Well....I could but I think you already know he doesn't appreciate forceful attempts to get him to like someone...But how you're doing things I could be wrong."

"...And I could say, say the same about having to be forced to clean a mess,mess that's not his. ..His."

"Not if the person offered to help him in return and was happily offered to go as a ...guest for the holidays."

There it was. The straw that broke the hathys back. The jester became as still as a statue as soon as those few words tumbled out of the plush's mouth, it was honestly rather funny to see such a rare shock upon the normally cheerful face, unfortunately it didn't last long because rapid blinks followed shortly after and a forced pleasent chuckle escaped his throat.

"My dear friend, friend," Jevil said in a forced sweet voice. "It seems that my ears are not what they used to be, be. I thought for a moment you said-"

"That I will be accompanying the Duke to the this silly ball?" Jevils face dropping again made him chuckle and lean into the chair's cushions more. "I suppose it's not that big of a deal...But then again." Even if it seemed unreal, a smug look came over the cat. "You might not like my play on words, Old friend. Hahaha."

In that stuper the imp could only get out one word. "How...?"

"I offered to help take care of you. It seems you've outdone yourself with the romanticizing eh?"

He went from shocked to an angry little man complete with puffed cheeks and red eyes. If you didn't know Jevil personally it would be quite scary but to the laughing cat it was just like a small tired child. It was cuter when he suddenly stood up and stomped a foot onto the couch. Jarring the sleeping child awake and jingling the box they were sleeping in. Seam didnt even flinch when a claw was pointed at him .

"No far, no far! You cheated, cheated!"

"By nicely asking if I could go? Really Jevil. You're acting like a child who didn't get the cookie jar."

A growl. "You can't keep me away, away! "

"Who said I would? I only said I would try to help keep your wild self in check and I intend to do so. ...By giving you advice. " when Jevil didnt say anything he continued. "Try a less forceful approuch next time round. "

".....Next time?" It seemed he found his voice. Jevil could always rebound pretty fast. "My next turn will leave your head spinning, spinning!"

"Oh Im sure it will." Still with the smug grin.

"You'll see, you'll see!!"

With that he sprung himself off of the couch and with furious jingles made his way back to the back room. Oh this was surely was going to be worth watching. A slighy jingling of trinkets ditected his attention back towards the box where the child was looking at him.

"Breakfast time now?"

......................................................................................

Scrubbing sounds was the most of what he heard as he kept up the cleaning momentum. He wanted to get done, collect his earnings, and get out of that chaotic hell of a home. The set back had made him take a whole couple more hours to fix, it was already probably in the middle of the night by how slightly darker it was outside. But luckily he was nearly finished. Just a part of the ceiling left-

The mop was promptly dunked back into the bucket and pulled out a moment later before being thrusted back up against the ceiling and rubbed against the black ashes remaining stuck to it. The anger was still burning in his mind but he couldn't careless. ....Unfortunately it blinded him to what would've been the soft jingling of bells coming up to him until he felt a tug on his sleeves. The scrubbing stopped and looked down to the small mass that was Jevil. Giving him a small smile-

"What doth thou want?"

The harsh tone made him flinch slightly but that didn't deter his new set of confidence. "Ive come to apologize, apologize for everything that's happened."

An anoyed but slightly confused expression came over him as Rouxls rose a brow. His attention turning back to scrubbing. "Oh lucky me... And what doth I owest thy pleasure?"

He didnt see the inhale of breath Jevil took. "I want you to forgive, forgive me. Let us start over, over. Please. Let me make up, make up!"

That made the worm pause his movenents and look back down to the hopeful face of the imp who smiled wider at him. Rouxls blinked....And blinked again. .. Before another annoyed look came over him.

"Really? I amst supposed to forget everythinge that has happened?" Jevils ears drooped slightly as Rouxls huffed. "Likest I wouldst do that- EEK!"

The mop fell to the floor with a thump and water spilt onto the floor. Rouxls scrambled back from the sudden flashing of pink in front of his face, in his hast knocking over the mop bucket and almost falling over onto his rear. Jevil admittedly was pretty startled from sudden reaction as well and just stood there. A couple shiny pink heart attacks floating above him at Rouxls's eye level.

He blinked upwards at the heavy form of the Duke in front of him-

"ART THOU TRYING TO GIVETH MINESELF A SOUL ATTACK?!" He pointed at the hearts. "I will nay f-forgiveth thou for doing that! Now...g-getest rid of them!"

Jevil did. Immediately. "Im sorry, sorry-"

"Stoppeth it! Just stoppeth apologizing." The worm pushed himself up from the wall as gave Jevil another annoyed look. "If thou was really 'sorry' thoust wouldst try harder and use that head of yours."

Jevil said nothing as Rouxls turned around to look at the new mess with a disgusted look, but he did hum and make a thoughtful expression a moment later. He might have mumbled something like 'Try harder, harder?' but Rouxls wasn't paying much attention so he barely heard. But he did see him back out of the room from the corner of his eye. Good. Now he could get done

He looked back down at the spilt water, wondering how he would get that cleaned up-...Wait. A pair of rapid footsteps came towards him, along with a small...battle cry. He barely had time to turn around before a purple blur slammed hard into his chest. They went to the ground like a sack of gems wind knocked out.

"WHONST THY F*CKETH-"

"FORGIVE ME!" A pair of yellow eyes stared intensely from his chest.

"WHA-" The smaller body of the darkner squeezed around his form face pouting against his chest. Rouxls struggled but managed to sit back up with the imp digging into him. "Absolutely not!"

His hands grabbed onto him and pulled. Hard. But Jevils limbs dug harder around him resulting in a panic running up the worm's spine and pulling harder on him. The digits digging into his goopy body was starting to hurt.

"Im not letting go, go until you let me,me make it up to you! You!"

"Thou art bluffing!" By now he was disparately wanting to get this thing off of him! He couldn't stand the way his soul was thumping against his ribcage- "T-Thou cant do this!"

"I CAN DO ANYTHING!"

Of course. What answer would he expect? He sat there and stared dumbfounded at him but considering that he was still clinging to him tighter than Lancer, and that pouting face was.....kinda cute.....UGH!!

"Fine!Fine! Thou can getteth off me now!"

He narrowed his eyes. "You give me your word,word?"

"Y-Yes. Now please-"

After a few more moments of looking at him suspiciously but slowly let Rouxls go. The worm man shakily stood up onto his feet while remaining eye contact with Jevil who seemed alot more satisfied and happy he finally got his way.

"Splendid, splendid! Hehehehehe! Im so excited,excited to hear that! I promise, promise to make you happy, happy!"

"I doubt that..."

But Jevil didn't seem to hear Rouxls mumbling to himself as he proudly skittered to the exit to the shop front. There he stood proudly and pointed a claw at the ever so calm Seam.

"One step closer,closer to checkmate!"

[vincent-frankenstein]

Sugared Strawberries

inspired by this prompt by the amazing, talented, wonderful @aliferous-ly !!! thanks for letting me write this bro i had a BLAST

Summary: Before — before there was a divide between the light and dark sides, before the mindscape split in two, before Virgil was alone — Patton made sugared strawberries. Virgil loved them, not for the taste but for the memories they made, his family gathered in the kitchen around him, love and light and warmth.

Then he became Anxiety, and everything changed. Patton stopped making sugared strawberries.

But redemption brings a lot of things — some new and some old and some so familiar he can barely stand it. When he walks into the kitchen one morning to find Patton covered in sugar, a tray of strawberries in his hands, he finally realizes:

He has a family again.

Pairings: platonic LAMP, platonic moxiety, just fambly feels

Warnings: deceit, remus/the duke, angst and self-hatred

Gen Taglist: @joygaytrash @ruh-roh-emer-has-an-account @aliferous-ly @im-crunchie @triton-bear @emiisanidiot @jemthebookworm

Virgil didn’t remember much about his childhood.

That whole thing about childhood mental illnesses causing memory problems? He was a childhood mental illness. That held doubly true for him. He remembered parts, bits and pieces, and knew of others, a patchwork mess of information given to him by the others that he couldn’t even trust, fully, because more than half had been stitched together by Deceit himself.

He knew that there hadn’t been such a divide between the light sides and the Others, once. He knew that there had been sleepovers and movie nights and birthday parties, that they’d all been a family, each of them, light and dark and everything in between. Patton still had pictures hanging in his room; Deceit in a snake onesie, wrapped in blankets, and Remus with a tiny, drawn-on mustache, and himself, open and smiling and unafraid, surrounded by love.

He knew that, the moment Thomas hit middle school, everything changed forever. The Great Schism, Roman called it, ignoring Logan’s lectures on the historical and religious significance of the title. A divide, a split, cleaving one world into two.

He knew that everything changed the moment Caution became Anxiety.

Because that was when the world went from scary to bad wrong terrifying — and that was when he decided he had to keep Thomas from it all, keep Thomas safe, no matter what. That was when Thomas realized some parts of his personality weren’t “good,” and they woke up to find the mindscape split in two. 

He didn’t remember much from before that moment, that split — but there was one memory he refused to forget, one that you couldn’t pry from his cold, dead fingers: sugared strawberries.

They had been Patton’s favorite, way back when. He used to gather all the sides in the kitchen and present them like they were the greatest treasure on earth, crystalline berries as valuable as gold. Roman — just Imagination back then, a tiny spitfire in a Disney prince Halloween costume — even made up a song for them; he’d dance around the kitchen, twirling any sides unlucky enough to be within reach.

Virgil would stand in the doorway, shoving as many strawberries as he could into his mouth at once. Patton would laugh, handing him more and more. “They’re not going anywhere, kiddo, no need to rush!” he’d say.

Then the Schism happened.

Patton stopped making sugared strawberries.

Virgil remembered what came after with all the clarity he wished he had for the memories before. The cold, the quiet, the emptiness that came with being banished to the dark side of the mindscape. Deceit grew distant, furious, and blamed Patton with all his might. “He’s right and wrong, Anxiety!” he used to rant, every opportunity he got, and he’d lie and say the tears pooling in his eyes were from fury, not sorrow. “Sure, he’s definitely not the cause of Thomas thinking we’re wrong.”

And Virgil — Anxiety couldn’t, couldn’t believe that Patton would do such a thing. He’d always been so… so nice. Even when Anxiety’s warnings turned from cautious to borderline cruel, he’d always been patient and loving and kind. Unless he was faking it — maybe he was, maybe he’d been faking it the whole time, sunshine and sugared strawberries to hide hatred for a side that he didn’t need anymore, didn’t want anymore — and suddenly Anxiety believed, believed with all his heart that he was wrong and Patton had done it on purpose.

The worst part was that Anxiety couldn’t even blame him.

The Others tried, for a while, to maintain the same level of warmth they’d had before — but they just weren’t built for that sort of thing. After all, how could something so wrong pretend to be right? Even Deceit couldn’t manage that for long. It was too hard to stave off the cold and the dark, and the creeping feeling of wrong that never quite left them alone; eventually they just gave up.

Anxiety retreated into himself. He ignored Deceit’s futile attempts at keeping them together, and avoided Remus like the plague — without his brother there to reign him in, the Duke became unhinged, distant, terrifying in the worst kind of way — and pretended like he didn’t care. Like he didn’t miss the warmth, the happiness, that he knew he’d once had. 

But he did. It was like a part of him had been torn away, and he ached with every memory that faded, every bit of warmth he lost. He missed watching movies with Imagination and listening to Curiosity read aloud, and he missed missed missed Patton’s hugs, and his smile, and —

He missed sugared strawberries.

Years passed. Curiosity became Logic and then became Logan; Imagination became Creativity and then Roman. The world became bigger, scarier, as Thomas was thrust into adulthood, and Anxiety forwent any and all chances of being loved in favor of being feared. He had to protect the one thing that still mattered to him. And if that meant he had to be too scary to ignore, then… so be it.

Sometimes he snuck down into the common room, late at night, and tried to recreate the sugared strawberries. He never could. Patton had made them with love — and Anxiety, he didn’t have any of that left to give. They never tasted the same. He always got it wrong.

Eventually, he stopped trying.

He just didn’t see the point. Even if he got the recipe right — which he never, never would — he’d still be alone. They’d never taste exactly as he remembered if they didn’t come with a bright grin from Patton, or a one-armed hug from Roman as he danced around the kitchen, or the warmth and light and happiness he knew he’d never get again. 

That was just the way things were. He was Anxiety — a villain, a dark side, an Other, hated by every person he’d once loved, hated by the one person he was supposed to protect. There was nothing he could do to fix that. There was nothing he could do to change that.

The one thing he could do was leave.

And then — to his great, great surprise — he was proven wrong. Things changed. Anxiety became Virgil and Virgil became wanted, needed, loved in ways he hadn’t thought possible. He woke one morning to find that his room was back in the light side; that instead of the silence he’d grown so used to, he could hear Roman and Logan playfully arguing downstairs, and Patton singing to himself as he bustled around the kitchen. 

He made sure to wipe the stupid smile off his face before he went downstairs. He couldn’t let them see how happy they made him. That would ruin his Aesthetic™.

“Virgil!” Roman cried when he appeared at the bottom of the stairs. “Virgil, would you please tell nerdmione over here to turn off his nerd show so I can watch Lilo and Stitch?”

“Roman, you have a television in your room,” Logan interrupted before Virgil could speak, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I am not turning off my documentary so you can watch your nonsensical Disney movie for the hundredth time.”

“‘Nonsensical?’ How dare you! Lilo and Stitch is a cinematic masterpiece! And I’ll have you know, I’ve seen it at least three-hundred times!” Roman scoffed, offended. “Besides, you’re all down here and my room is up there! I want to watch it here.”

“Then you will have to wait.” Logan shot Virgil a look — can you believe this guy? he said with a quirk of his brow — and Virgil rolled his eyes, a fond smirk slipping into place. “Why don’t you try watching this with me? Maybe you’ll learn something. Newton knows you need it.”

“B-to-the-oring!” Roman scoffed, rolling his eyes and throwing his whole body into the action, hip jutting out to the side. Then he blinked. “Wait, what was that last bit?”

Virgil snickered into the back of his hand and moved on into the kitchen, where he leaned against the doorway, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Patton stood at the counter, bouncing in place to the happy tune he hummed as he made… something. Virgil couldn’t see past him. “Morning, Pat,” he said, and Patton whirled around, his bright smile lighting up the whole room.

“Virgil!” he said happily, beaming. “G’morning, kiddo! How’re ya doin’?” His hands were covered in something white and powdery; it fluttered to the floor around him like snow as he flapped while he talked. Virgil shrugged, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“I’m alive,” he said. “You?”

“I’m doin’ great!” he said. “Making a certain sweet surprise for someone I love berry much.” He winked, giggled, and turned back to whatever it was he was making. Virgil blinked, pushing away from the wall to go look over Patton’s shoulder, but before he could Patton turned around, holding a tray laden with small berries.

Virgil forgot how to breathe.

“I haven’t made these in forever,” Patton said, his grin warm and welcoming, “but I remembered how much you used to love ‘em, and I figured I’d whip a couple up to celebrate your growth! To let you seed how berry proud I am of you.”

“Oh,” Virgil managed, and he knew he should have said more, he knew he should do something, but he’d forgotten how to exist in the face of something he’d wanted, needed, for so so long. Sugared strawberries. Patton had made sugared strawberries — for him, Patton made sugared strawberries for him, and he knew he’d been accepted but it hadn’t hit him, really, until that moment. 

He had a family again.

“Kiddo?” Patton’s eyebrows furrowed. “Are you okay?”

“I’m — I’m good,” he said, and meant so much by it that he almost choked. “I mean — I’m —”

Shit shit shit — he swiped at his eyes with his sleeve and looked away, face burning. Tears pooled in the corners of his eyes faster than he could wipe them away. Patton made a small noise of understanding and put the tray back on the counter, rushing forward to scoop Virgil into a hug.

And that was too much. The dam broke, and suddenly he was sobbing into Patton’s shoulder, even as every instinct in him screamed at him to stop, stop showing them how much it means to you, stop giving them power. Patton rubbed soft circles across his back and whispered comfort into his ear. “I’ve gotcha,” he said, softer than Virgil had ever heard him. “It’s okay. It’s all okay.”

Virgil heard Logan and Roman come into the kitchen and he clutched the back of Patton’s shirt harder, burying his face in his shoulder. He couldn’t — couldn’t face them, couldn’t stop crying, couldn’t push away the burning hope eating through his lungs, try as he might. He had a family again. He had a family again. The thought refused to stop running through his mind, a mantra, neverending. He had a family again.

Eventually, finally, the tears slowed. He could breathe again. He pushed out of Patton’s embrace and swiped his sleeve across his face, cheeks burning bright red. “Sorry,” he managed, his voice gruff. “I’ll just — I’ll just go —”

“Oh no you don’t, Green Gay,” Roman said, blocking the doorway. “We’re having an emotional moment here!”

“Ew,” Logan and Virgil said in unison. 

“Kiddo, it’s okay,” Patton said gently, setting a sugary hand on his shoulder. “You’re safe here.”

“Right — yeah.” Virgil cleared his throat, stuffing his hands back into his pockets. He searched the room for something, anything to say to break the tension building in his chest. “You… you got sugar on my hoodie.”

Patton giggled. “Now it matches your sweet personality!”

“Lies and slander,” Virgil said. “I’m not sweet.”

“Falsehood,” Logan said, raising an eyebrow. “You’re covered in sugar.”

“That’s —” Virgil cut himself off, pressing his lips into a thin line to keep from smiling. “Yep.”

Roman slung an arm over his shoulder, squeezing him in a one-armed hug, and Patton grabbed the tray. “You want some?” he asked with a warm smile, as Roman reached over and grabbed a handful.

And Virgil took a breath and reached forward, gathering a pile of strawberries in his hand. He shoved them into his mouth and nearly burst into tears again at the taste — or, rather, at the memories it invoked, at the warmth that once again surrounded him, enveloped him, filled him. 

“No need to rush, kiddo!” Patton said with a laugh, as Virgil shoved more strawberries into his mouth. “They’re not going anywhere.”

And this time, Virgil knew they weren’t.

[teacupfulofstarshine]

but for just one day let’s only think about love

(a gift for my darling wife @notveryglittery!!! you mentioned wanting more fluff, and i have delivered! i hope you enjoy it, princess!) 

summary: it's the eve of their big day, and roman and patton want everything to be perfect. luckily, they've got their best friends in the world helping make sure everything goes smoothly - and who could ask for better friends? (OR: an absurdly fluffy royality wedding fic written for my lovely wife dani!)

pairings: romantic royality, background romantic analogical

word count: ~5759 

(cw: the briefest anxiety in the beginning, tooth-rotting fluff)

read it on ao3!

“Why did I let you talk me into wearing a white tuxedo?!”

Roman drapes himself over Logan’s couch, knocking his best friend’s newspaper out of his hands as he flops into his lap. Logan stares at him, unimpressed.

“I did not talk you into anything. On the contrary, I attempted to tell you that wearing a white tuxedo was a terrible idea.”

“Why didn’t I listen to you?!” “I have been asking myself that question since you met me. However, the reason you gave me for your current misstep was, and I quote.” Logan presses the back of his hand to his forehead and drapes himself against the back of the couch. “I have to wear a white tuxedo!” he gasps, imitating Roman’s voice and mannerisms to a truly creepy degree. “Only a white tuxedo will offset my perfect golden tan and make me appear to glow when the sunlight strikes me just so! And since Patton always calls me his sunbeam, it seems only fitting that I should be truly radiant for our wedding day! Though not as radiant as Patton of course - ah, my lovely fiancé! How have I gone more than six whole seconds without mentioning -”

“Alright, alright, I get it!” Roman grouses, shoving at Logan’s chest to make him stop. Logan sits up, adjusts his tie, and leans over Roman to get his newspaper off the ground. Rather than reading it, however, he folds it neatly.

“What is this really about, Roman?” “I’m regretting my fashion choices, Logan! Obviously, I -”

“Roman, be honest with me. It is not the suit which troubles you, is it?”

Roman sits up, clasping his hands together and leaning forward. He looks at Logan, dark chocolate eyes hidden behind his bangs. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

“Not to the average eye, perhaps. But we have known each other since we were approximately fourteen months old, Roman. There is very little that you can hide from me.”

“Geez, Lo, don’t I have any secrets?” Roman jokes. Logan rests a hand on his knee.

“Of course you do, Roman. But your insecurities, your . . . your fears should not be something that you attempt to hide, from yourself or from me. Please do not misunderstand me - I am not attempting to pry into your life.”

Roman quirks a half-smile. “I know, Lo. I know you’re just worried.”

“Tell me, then. What is troubling you? You . . . you are not getting the proverbial ‘cold feet’ about your impending nuptials, are you?”

“No! No, no, I absolutely don’t regret accepting Pat’s proposal! I - I love him, Logan. I love him so much, he . . .” Roman twists his engagement ring around his finger. “Patton is the best and brightest thing in my life. He genuinely loves everyone and everything so much, and he’s so kind and - and -”

“I understand,” Logan says. “I did not think that was the case, but it was necessary to eliminate it from the realm of -”

“What if it’s fucked up?”

Logan blinks. “I . . . I do not understand. Could you please expand on that statement?”

“I love Patton so much, Logan. You don’t even understand, I - I could live without food, without water, without oxygen, without anything as long as I had Patton with me. He’s so important to me and - and I just - what if something goes wrong tomorrow? What if there’s a hurricane? What if Emile loses his voice? What if someone drops my suit in a vat of grape juice, what if Virgil’s shop catches on fire and Patton’s dress is destroyed, what if Virgil ends up in the hospital, what if Patton doesn’t want to marry me, what if he stands me up at the altar, what if -”

“Roman!” Logan says. He shifts his hand from Roman’s knee to holding Roman’s hands, which have begun to grip painfully at his hair. “You are engaging in cognitive distortions which are sending you into a spiralling panic attack. Look at me, Ro - it will be alright. I am going to count for you.”

Logan’s voice is quiet and measured, breaths even and steady as he counts. He looks at Roman, who does his best to maintain eye contact. “That’s it, Roman. Take deep breaths. We are optimizing your oxygen circulation in an attempt to engage your parasympathetic nervous system. The process of counting out your breaths will -”

“Thanks, nerd,” Roman rasps softly. Logan smiles, squeezing his hands.

“Of course, prep.”

“I’m not - it’s not that I don’t want to marry him, Logan. It’s the exact opposite - I want to marry him so much that I’m terrified by the prospect of the wedding being anything less than perfect.”

“Realistically, nothing can truly be perfect,” Logan says. “Much of what exists in this world is inherently flawed -”

“Thanks, Lo, that makes me feel worlds better.”

“I was not finished. Much of what exists in this world is inherently flawed, and therefore striving for perfection is unrealistic. However, this does not mean that we cannot strive for excellence. I may not be able to guarantee a perfect wedding, but I can guarantee that I will do everything in my power to make sure that it goes as smoothly as possible. You are my best friend, Roman, and I will be here to support you in every capacity that I can.”

Roman laughs, once, before lurching forward and throwing his arms around Logan’s neck. Logan, knowing Roman better than perhaps Roman himself, has already braced himself for impact, catching Roman and holding him. One hand slides up to scratch the curls at the nape of Roman’s neck while the other rubs Roman’s back in broad, firm strokes. These are the motions that have been proven to be the most soothing when Roman gets like this.

“Thank you, Lo,” Roman whispers, and his voice is so choked that if he were speaking to anyone other than Logan, he would be completely unintelligible. “This - I - you - you’re my best friend, you know that, right?”

“Yes, Roman,” Logan teases. “I had assumed that was why you asked me to be your best man.”

Roman makes an indignant squawking noise. “You are my best friend, too, you know.” He feels Roman nuzzle just a little into his neck.

“Love you, Lo.”

“I love you, too, Roman. If it will make you feel better . . . I have made an Excel spreadsheet to deal with potential outcomes.”

Roman pulls away from him, snorting in laughter. “Of course you did.”

“If you do not want it -”

Roman wipes his eyes, giggling. “Don’t be stupid, I know how many hours you must have poured into that. Let’s see it, then.”

Logan can’t help grinning as he picks up his laptop. “It’s color-coded.”

“Of course it is. I’d expect nothing less from you.”

*~*~*~*~*

“Patton, I swear to whatever deity exists out there in the great unending cosmos of the universe, if you stand up from that chair one more time, I am going to yeet my fucking pincushion under your ass.”

Patton, who’d been halfway out of his chair, promptly drops back down into it, giggling nervously. “Sorry, Virge, I just -”

“You’re nervous about this dress because it needs to go well. I know.” Virgil pokes their head out from behind the folding screen where they’re working on Patton’s wedding dress. “You do trust me to know what I’m doing, right?”

“Of course I do, Virgil! There’s a reason we’re partners in Fabricadabra!”

“I still regret letting you name it that.” Virgil ducks back behind the screen, muttering to themself. Patton can only see the vaguest shadowy outline of them moving around the mannequin on which his secret wedding dress rests.

“You’re just as good a seamster as I am, Virge, I trust you to work on all of our orders! It’s just that - that you’ve never hidden something you’ve made from me before.” Patton looks at the floor, wringing his fingers together. “I know you want it to be a surprise and all that, but I get married tomorrow!”

“I know, Pats. I’m not, like, working on the seams or anything! I’m just doing finishing touches! I don’t want you to see it before it’s completely done because I want you to have the experience, tm.”

“Did - did you just say the letters ‘TM’ out loud?” Patton giggles.

“Absolutely I did, it was for the fucking -”

“Language!”

“ - freaking emphasis. This dress is the most gorgeous thing I have ever created in my life. This dress has been labored over - SLAVED over - for months. This dress contains my blood! My sweat! My tears! My -”

“Virgil!”

“Sorry, Pat, but you get my point! This dress is the most important thing I’ve ever created. It’s my best friend’s wedding dress. I want it to be perfect when you see it for the first time. I want you to see it in all its glory - I want you to see it perfect.”

“Virge, honey, you know I’m gonna love it no matter what! It doesn’t have to be a Dior gown, it’s going to be special to me because you made it! My best friend, my partner in business and in crime, my best - human!”

Virgil pokes their head back out, arching a perfectly done eyebrow. “Did you just call me your best human?”

“Well, yeah! I didn’t wanna call you my best man, cause you’re not a man, I -”

“Bold of you to assume I’m human, Patton.”

Patton laughs. “Does ‘best enby’ work, then?”

“You are too much sometimes,” Virgil chuckles, shaking their head as they duck back behind the folding screen. “You can call me whatever your gay little heart desires as long as it’s not ‘maid of honor’, Pat. I’m really not that picky.”

Virgil falls silent for a few more minutes. Their shadow moves more rapidly around the mannequin, and they alternate between muttering to themself and humming to themself. Patton recognizes about half of the songs they’re humming, and tries to sing along where he can.

“Patton, I love you, but you are so far off key you might actually be in another one.” Patton rubs the back of his head in embarrassment, fiddling with the fraying lace hemming his skirt. “Shouldn’t be much longer, just finishing up a little bit on the sleeves and the neckline.”

“How much overtime did you pull to finish this, Virgil? Have you been sleeping properly? Eating enough? Drinking enough water?”

“I have consumed the life liquid, yes.”

“Virgil!”

Virgil’s head pokes out again. Patton squints, leaning forward to see how much makeup is covering the dark circles that normally reside beneath their eyes. “Pat, I’m not gonna lie to you. I’ve pulled a couple all-nighters. But I’ve done my best to avoid them, and I have timers set on my phone to make sure I eat and drink water on a regular basis. I’m practicing self-care.”

“I’m proud of you, kiddo,” Patton says softly.

“I know, Pat. I just hope you’re proud of my work, too.”

“Virgil, whatever this dress looks like, I promise it’s going to be wonderful. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you made it for me! And I know how hard you work and how detail-oriented you are and how super good at your job you are! I know you worry a lot about how good your stuff is, but I know it’s amazing!”

“Pat, stop, you’re gonna make me blush too hard for my foundation to cover.” “Why would you wanna cover up your blush, Virge?”

“I have an image to maintain! I am a cold and emotionless void!”

“You’re the cutest little gender-non-conforming void spawn I’ve ever seen!”

Virgil sticks their face out, cheeks and ears a bright rosy pink. “Patton, you are ruining my image right now.” Patton smiles unapologetically. “Come see your damn wedding dress already.”

“Language, kiddo, I - you’re serious?! It’s done, I can come see it now?!”

“Well, it’s as good as I’m gonna get it, so you might as well come look. Plus, I need you to try it on before the wedding to make sure you’re completely happy with it.” Patton almost trips over his own feet in his rush to get out of the chair as Virgil pushes the folding screen aside. All the air in Patton’s lungs leaves it in a single rush of breath.

“Well? You gotta tell me if you like it or not, Patty, I - Patton?” Patton’s eyes are brimming with tears, hands pressed over his mouth as he stares at the dress. The bodice is gold, with flowy, see-through sleeves of thin, delicate lace. There’s intricate needlepoint along the neckline and the waistline, with delicate floral embroidery on the bodice itself. The skirt is full and flowing, a gradation of blues. It’s so light it’s almost white at the waist, flowing into dark midnight blue at the hem, and the train is embroidered with stars and flowers. The layers of the skirt are varying colors of blue and white, and Patton is starstruck.

“You . . . th-this . . . Virgil, I . . . I . . .”

“Do you not like it? It’s too late to make, like, major changes, but I could theoretically change the - whoa!”

Patton throws himself at Virgil, sobbing openly and pressing soft kisses to their hair and cheek. “Oh, Virgil, it’s perfect!”

“You - r-really? You - you don’t think there’s anything wr-wrong with it?”

“The only thing wrong with it is that you think there’s something wrong with it! Virgil, it’s perfect, it’s everything I could ever want in a wedding dress! I couldn’t have done a better job if I’d designed it myself!”

“Yeah, there was no way in hell I was letting you design and make your own wedding dress, Pat. That would just be cruel.”

Patton hugs Virgil’s skinny little frame close to him, shaking with happy tears and soaking the sleeve of their hoodie. “Virgil, I could not have asked for a better wedding dress. Or a better wedding dress designer. I love it so much, I love you so much, I -”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I love you, too,” Virgil grumbles. They still kiss the top of his head before pushing Patton away. “Come on, Pats, you gotta try on this thing so I can make last minute alterations. With any luck, you’re only gonna get married once, so let’s go!”

*~*~*~*~*

“Where did you learn to tie a tie, the sandbox?”

Roman looks helplessly at Logan, red silk tie tangled around his hands and fingers. “That - Lo, what does that even mean?” Logan laughs, leaning against the doorframe. He’s already dressed in a tailored black suit, dark blue tie knotted snugly beneath his throat, hair neatly slicked back.

“It means that you are attempting to knot your tie with the skill and grace of a five year old in a sandbox. Was that not clear?”

“No, it wasn’t, Lo,” Roman grouses, standing up. Logan takes in his appearance - half-tucked-in shirt, unbuttoned vest, tie loosely slung around his shoulders. “But I appreciate it.”

“Roman, come here. Let me help you, alright? You’re going to look great.”

Roman tucks his shirt in and buttons his vest, letting Logan straighten and smooth his suit before taking the tie in his hands and beginning to tie it. “It still amuses me that you cannot tie one of these properly, Roman.”

“Hey! For all you know, I am the god of tie knots. I just pretend I don’t know what I’m doing so that you’ll keep tying them for me because I know how happy it makes you.” Logan smirks as he knots the tie, carefully adjusting Roman’s collar to make sure it lays flat over his tie.

“I would be inclined to believe you, but I know for a fact that you spent fifteen minutes prior to my arrival here standing in front of the mirror flailing that tie around pretending to be Amethyst.”

“Rude!” Roman screeches.

“Why? I am correct, am I not?”

“You’re right, but you shouldn’t say it!”

“On the contrary,” Logan says, “I am correct, and therefore I absolutely should say it.” He pulls his hands away from Roman’s neck, smoothing the lapels of his tuxedo jacket down neatly. “You may inspect my handiwork now, although I daresay you will find no fault with my knot. And even if you do, I can rest secure in the knowledge that it is infinitely better than anything you could manage.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re the most intelligent being that has ever lived, we get it,” Roman says breathlessly, staring at himself in the mirror. “I . . . th-this is really happening, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Roman. It really is. You are going to marry Patton today, and it is all going to be perfect.”

Roman’s hair is curled, falling neatly around his face in soft waves and ringlets that perfectly frame his eyes. Despite his penchant for dramatics, his makeup today is remarkably subtle. His eyelashes are darker and slightly curled, with minimal glitter on his eyes and cheeks. The boldest thing about his face is his bright red lipstick, perfectly matching his red silk tie.

“You look amazing,” Logan says. “I am proud to stand at your side as your best man.”

“Thanks, Lo,” Roman says, tipping his head back to knock gently against Logan’s shoulder. “But you can’t do that - not yet, anyway.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you’re not wearing any makeup.”

“Roman. There is a lifetime ban on you putting any sort of products on my face. You know this. Need I bring up -”

“Lo, please? I promise I won’t do anything too dramatic, and it’s not that I think you look ugly without it I just think it would complete the look! Please, please let me do this? For my big day?”

He bats his definitely-mascara’d eyelashes, and Logan sighs. “I reserve the right to veto the look if I think it is too ‘out there’, Roman.”

“Oh, thank you thank you thank you! You won’t regret it, I promise!”

Twenty minutes later, Logan is blinking at his reflection in the mirror to clear the phosphenes from Roman furiously blotting foundation against his face. True to his word, Roman has not done anything too dramatic - Logan recognizes minimal contouring on his cheeks, shimmery silver eyeshadow, the barest trace of eyeliner. He looks . . . he looks good.

“Do you like it?” Roman worries. “I can take it off if it’s too much, I -”

“Roman, I - it is - satisfactory,” Logan cuts him off, trying not to sound choked up.

“Damn it, Lo! You’re gonna make me cry with all your compliments, and if my mascara runs I’ll kill you I swear to God.”

“With your penchant for crying at emotional situations, I’m impressed that you think you’re getting through this wedding without wearing waterproof mascara.”

*~*~*~*~*

“Patton, if you don’t stop moving I’m gonna take your eye out with the mascara wand!”

“It’s rude to threaten someone on their wedding day,” Patton giggles. “It’s not a threat!” Virgil snaps. “You’re so damn ticklish and fidgety that I’m gonna end up accidentally stabbing your eye out! And then Roman’s gonna kill me to defend your honor and Logan’s gonna help because he’s been Roman’s friend longer than he’s been my boyfriend and -”

“Virgil! Calm down!” Patton says. He gently takes their hands, careful not to let the mascara smudge on his gloves. “I’m sorry, I’ll sit stiller. More still? I’ll fidget less, I promise.”

“Do you not trust me to make you look good?” Virgil asks, in a small voice.

“Oh, sweetheart, of course I do! Just look at you!” Patton gestures to the beauty-guru level makeup on Virgil’s face, from their silvery-purple-black eyeshadow to their dark purple lipstick to the way their cheekbones shine just a little more than the rest of their face. “You’re the best makeup person I know! But don’t tell Ro I said that, okay?”

“Don’t worry, Pat, I know better than to injure Princey’s precious ego. The last time I did that he pouted around for a whole week until I apologized. Not that I meant it - I was right the first time.”

“Hey, be nice,” Patton warns. Virgil shrugs, quirking a smile.

“Sorry, Pat. I know how much Princey means to you. If it makes you feel better, I don’t hate him like I did when we first met. Him not being a dick about my pronouns helped.”

“I told you he wouldn’t have a problem.”

“I know you did, Pat. Now hold still. Emile’s gonna be here to pick us up at any minute, and you need to be ready.”

Patton lets go of Virgil’s hands and obeys, letting them work their magic on his face. He doesn’t see the point in wearing excessive makeup every day the way Virgil does; he likes having his freckles on full display, and he doesn’t mind showing the occasional acne scar or blemish. But Roman had mentioned wearing makeup on their wedding day, and he hadn’t said that Patton had to but he thinks he would feel weird if Roman had makeup on and he didn’t.

Plus, Virgil really likes doing makeup, and they’ve apparently been planning what they’d do for his wedding for years now. Patton would hate to let all that work go to waste.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be done soon,” Virgil says, gently dabbing at Patton’s face. “If Emile gets here before I’m done, he can just wait.”

“I don’t want to make him wait too long!” Patton argues. “He’s doing us a huge favor by agreeing to officiate the wedding!”

“Please, Pat, you didn’t even have to pay Emi. He just loves weddings. He’s a loser like that.”

“Don’t you like them too, Virge?”

“I will admit that over my dead body, and I am denying any candor in your statements,” Virgil says, smooth and practiced. “Now blink onto my finger, I’m almost done.”

Emile shows up right as Virgil is preparing to put Patton’s lip gloss on. “Virgie! How’s my favorite twin?”

“I am your only twin, Emile, and I hate that nickname,” they grouse.

“Oh, look at you! You look so pretty!” Emile coos. Patton is inclined to agree; Virgil is wearing a silver button-down with a black vest, and a tie the same rich purple as their flowing knee-length skirt. Tall black boots lace up to just beneath their knees, and they have flowers matching the ones in Patton’s bouquet woven into their French-braided hair.

“Thanks, Emi. You look . . . adequate.”

“Oh, Virgil! That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me!” Emile squeals, twirling around to show off the flaring of their pleated pink dress. “You’re doing such a good job with Patton’s face! Did you paint his nails, too?”

“Well, someone had to do it,” Virgil grouses, but based on their tone Patton knows that they’re pleased with their twin’s praises, smiling shyly as they focus on carefully applying his lipgloss. “Pat, smack your lips together, and then you’re just about ready to look in the mirror.”

Patton does as he’s told, looking down at his feet. His toenails are painted a bright, cheerful yellow, and he wiggles his toes where they poke out of his sandals. Virgil’s intricate wedding dress fits him perfectly, and beneath his gloves his fingernails are painted sky blue with swirling red-and-gold designs. Finally, he looks up into the mirror propped on the nearby table and sees Virgil’s makeup.

“Oh, Virgil,” he whispers, putting his glasses on and seeing his face in sharp, striking clarity. “I don’t care what you said about the dress, I’m paying you extra for this.”

“Pat, you don’t have to -”

“It’s happening, Virgil, whether you like it or not,” Patton sniffles, and then he’s hugging Virgil tightly.

“Hey - careful, Pat, your makeup hasn’t set yet! And you’re gonna wrinkle our clothes, and -”

“Shut up and take my love, Virgil.”

“Y-yeah, okay . . .”

It takes Emile another seven minutes to shepherd them out the door and into the car, but Patton catches the secret proud smile gleaming on Virgil’s face as they help him get his train into the car.

*~*~*~*~*

The church where they’re getting married is small. The wooden beams bracing the ceiling arc like the beams in the hull of a ship; when they’d first inspected the venue, Logan had gone on some sort of tangent about the historical and symbolic significance of the beams. Roman hadn’t bothered listening, too busy whispering and giggling with Patton and looking at all of the mosaics and stained glass and gilded paintings.

Now, standing at the altar, Emile at his side and Logan at his back, he tilts his head up, up, up to look at the ceiling. Dimly, he remembers Logan’s voice saying, “It is meant to represent the hull of the ark, the ship that supposedly carried two of every animal to safety during the Great Flood of the Christian mythos. The thought in designing the church to mimic this boat is that it will carry the members of its congregation safely to heaven.”

Privately, Roman hopes that this marriage will carry his and Patton’s relationship through the rest of their lives. He knows the divorce rate in America, he knows how likely it is that the average marriage won’t work out. But he refuses to let himself go down that road. He loves Patton, and Patton loves him. They’ve discussed their future a million and one times - he knows how committed he is to making this work. This is going to be the start of the rest of their lives.

His cousin Thomas is up in the choir loft, gently cracking his fingers and running them lightly over the gleaming keys of the organ. Roman can see Virgil waiting in the first pew, gazes out across the sea of faces belonging to his and Patton’s friends and families. Thomas looks down at him from the choir loft and cocks his head to the side, asking if it’s time. Roman looks down the aisle and sees two silhouettes waiting behind the opaque glass doors, glances up to Thomas, and nods. Thomas begins to play, letting a few instrumental bars pass by before he starts singing, voice rich and strong.

The door opens, and Roman loses all the breath in his lungs in one swift, silent rush.

Patton walks down the aisle slowly, timing his footfalls perfectly with the beats of the song. There’s a shimmery veil over his face, held in place by a glimmering silver tiara with sparkling gemstone flowers. Roman hasn’t even seen his face yet, and already he knows Patton is gorgeous.

The dress is stunning; he can see Virgil beaming, and he makes a mental note to slip a hundred dollars into their pocket before the night is over. He knows exactly how hard they’ve been working on this secret project, and how long they’ve been working on it, too. He’s seen Virgil’s handiwork, of course, wears their neat, precise stitches in a lot of his clothing. But that’s mostly minor tweaks - hemming pants here, fixing a torn sleeve there. This is the first time he’s seen one of Virgil’s original creations.

If this dress doesn’t get them catapulted to center stage of New York fashion week, Roman is going to sue the entire fashion industry.

The top is all delicate lace and intricate embroidery, clever flower patterns and flowy sleeves. But it’s the lower half that’s drawing gasps and exclamations from the wedding guests. There’s a pure white ribbon wrapped around Patton’s waist, tied neatly in a bow behind him. The skirt starts off pure white, but as it descends it becomes pale blue, growing deeper and darker and fuller and richer as it heads toward the floor. The train is a midnight blue, so dark it’s almost black, with shimmering stars and flowers sewn in. It’s only because Roman knows Patton asked for one that he knows what he’s looking for, but he finds it quickly - the train is detachable. Patton hadn’t wanted to change into a separate outfit for the reception, but he couldn’t very well dance with a full train behind him.

Virgil really is the cleverest designer that Roman’s ever met.

Patton reaches the altar right as the song crescendos to its climax, and Virgil carefully slips up to stand behind him. His beloved’s face is obscured by the veil, but Roman can tell that Patton’s wearing makeup. Virgil probably did that, too.

Roman owes them so much money.

“Dearly beloved,” Emile starts, practically bouncing in place, “do you how do?” His characteristic greeting draws confused murmurs and whispers from the gathered crowd. Roman can hear Virgil’s palm smack against their face without even looking at them.

The ceremony flies by like lightning, but it feels like forever until Emile is stepping back and they’re putting the rings on each other’s hands, saying their vows. Roman pulls Patton’s glove off, smiling softly to himself when he sees the designs on his nails. He takes the ring Logan offers him and carefully slides it onto Patton’s ring finger.

“Patton,” he says. “I - I wrote this whole big speech, and I even had Logan proofread it for me to make sure it was grammatically correct, but . . . but standing here now, looking you in the eyes - well, as best as I can, anyway -” Patton laughs softly, and some of Roman’s nerves dissipate.

“I agonized over the right way to do these vows for so long, and now that we’re here, now that we’re doing this I - I don’t think it matters as much. I’ll let you read the sappy speech later, but - but right now, all that matters is that we’re here, that we’re together. I love you, Patton, and I don’t care who knows it, but I also really want everyone here to know it.”

More laughter, from everyone else this time. “You are the sun in my sky, the light of my life, the reason I want to keep being the best version of myself. I don’t know if I believe in the concept of people who are fated to be together, but if I did, I know for a fact that I would be fated to be with you. And even if I wasn’t, I would choose to be with you. I - I would always choose you.”

Patton squeezes his hand, and then he’s taking a ring from Virgil’s hands and carefully sliding it onto Roman’s finger. “Roman, my sunbeam, the day that I met you used to be the best day of my life. Whenever I was feeling sad or alone, I would think back to that day and I would remember that you were out there, somewhere, even if you weren’t with me at that exact second. And I would think about the light in your eyes when you look at me, and the way you smile right before you kiss me, and the way you take those few extra seconds to make sure our fingers are perfectly laced together. Those memories always made me feel warm and happy, like I was standing in the summer sunshine. But that’s not the best day of my life anymore.”

Roman blinks in confusion, but Patton keeps talking. “The best day of my life will always be this day, when I look you in the eyes. And I’ll choose you, and you’ll choose me, and we’ll keep choosing each other for the rest of our lives. Sorry I kinda stole the last bit of your vows, honey, but what can I say? You’ve always been the creative one between us.”

There are mixed smatterings of laughter echoing in Roman’s ears, but all he can focus on is the fire in his cheeks and ears and the water in his eyes. “Pat, my makeup is gonna run,” he whispers.

“Logan didn’t make you wear waterproof mascara?” Patton asks, but Roman can tell he’s smirking beneath the veil. “Virgil made me.”

“I told him to,” Logan whispers. Roman considers kicking him, but he gets distracted by Emile’s voice. The ceremony continues on, with Roman and Patton holding each other’s hands tightly. Roman tilts their hands slightly, marvelling at the way the multicolored sunlight streaming through the stained glass glints off their wedding bands.

“You may lift the veil now,” Emile says gently. Roman squeezes Patton’s hands once before letting go and tenderly taking the lacy edges of the veil. He rubs the soft material between his thumb and index finger before carefully lifting the veil and flipping it over Patton’s head to reveal his face.

If he still had breath in his lungs, Patton’s face would steal it from him. His cheeks are glowing and rosy, and his eyes are perfectly framed with dark lashes and subtle eyeliner that brings out his irises. He has golden-red eyeshadow artfully painted on his upper lids, and his lips are a beautiful soft shiny pink. His mouth is slightly open, and Roman just wants to lean in and press kisses against it over and over and over again.

“By the power vested in me by the state of Pennsylvania, I now declare you husband and husband! You may now kiss the groom!”

Roman gently cups Patton’s face, careful not to smudge or smear Virgil’s beautiful makeup job. He gently swipes his thumbs over Patton’s cheeks, right beneath eyes that shimmer with tears. “Hello, husband,” he murmurs, leaning down to brush their noses together. Patton pushes himself up on his tip-toes and presses their mouths together, cupping Roman’s face in return. On one cheek, he feels the softness of Patton’s glove, and on the other he feels the cool metal of Patton’s wedding ring.

His arms slide down to wrap around Patton’s waist and brace his back as he dips him, keeping their lips pressed together as wedding bells begin to ring and the congregation erupts into thunderous applause. He’s kissed Patton a hundred, a thousand, a million times, but this is the first time he’s kissed his husband, and the searing fire in his lips and butterflies in his stomach are fresh as the very first time he’d ever kissed Patton.

Somehow, he prefers this kiss to the time Logan had slapped him a high-five while they kissed.

(Later, at the wedding reception, Patton turns his back to the crowd and throws his bouquet of flowers. When he and Roman turn around, Virgil is holding the bouquet, and Logan is fidgeting awkwardly.

“Would now be an inopportune time to propose?” he asks.

“YES, because this is MY WEDDING DAY!” Roman screeches, even as Virgil shakes their head and furiously pulls Logan in for a kiss.)

TAGLIST (if you wanna be added, send me an ask!)

@bunny222

@phlying-squirrel

@scorching-scotch

@accio-hufflepuff-power1

@ironwoman359

@ab-artist

@a-lexicon-of-words

@samathekittycat

@confinesofpersonalknowledge

@backatthebein

@princeanxious

@serious-ppl-wear-neckties

@ascreamingstrawberry

@thekeytohappiness-is-you

@smartestowlgirl

@silverrhayn

@221b-quote

@generalfandomfabulousness

@deverick-racoma

@dkg-racoma

@starryfirefliesbloggo

@justanotherpurplebutterfly

@minshinxx

@hpjkfgw

@pearls-of-patton​

@couch-potato-1890

@isdisorigionalenoughforyou

@notveryglittery

@imantisocialgetoverit

@deamondisciple

@purplepatton

@iris-sanders-athena

@magicalmayhems

@fightingswedes

@chaosgaminggirl

@book-of-charlie

@anuninspiredpoet

@wicked-delights

@bleaktuber

@purpleshipper

@c4t1l1n4

@illiani

@maxiswriting

@cutie-whore

@magnificentme513

@no-life-no-problem

@sockpansy

@ocotopushugs

@mauvelavender

@hahanoiwont

@ravenclawunicorn1

@that1theatregirl

@nightmareelmst

@bread-potato

@gaygreekboi

@drawyoursword

@thebeautyofthomas

@anxiousangelvirgil

@greeneggsandham1998

@shesavampirequeen

@phangirlandkilljoy

@sortablue

@humorlover1233

@allycat31415

@fangirltothefullest

@ashrain5

@white-spirit-of-darkness

@rejectedathena

@hedgehoghumor

@gay-and-exhausted

@vir-gull

@romanthroughthestars

@savingshae

@daughterofsomnus

@unikornavenger

@awesomelissawho

@ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2

@radioactivehelena

@ethospathoslogan

@anxietyisthebestme

@pinkeasteregg

@entpscarleharrrr

@a-snoway-afternoon

@it-is-i-music-note-anon

@tera-91

@thisismedamit

@indanegalaxy

@so-many-ships-i-have-a-fleet

@maybekatie

@forsakethegodsbeforetheydoyou

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@arandompasserby

@youllnevertaketheskyfromme

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@kittycake574

@uh-r00d

@fall-chemically-atthedisco

@wolfiegamer2007

@phander-trash

@faithfulcat111

@fangsandrainbows

@redundant-statements-for-400

@adka2333

@theresneverenoughfandoms

@regen-cecilos

@pinkpandapancakes

@the-better-bard

@a-little-bit-of-ace

@bisexualellaphants

@echomist13

@pokeeevee100

@light-it-on-fire

@kaileah-kat

@thatonetuesdaywhensam

@savemefrompainfulagony

@flamingfawkes

@browniebri

@romanssippycup

@soft-transboy

@somehowsnakesblog

@lunareclipse-524

@wattysthebrokenangel

@saphael-malec102

@rieka-onyx

@booksgamesnetflix

@dragonheart905

@starrynightaurora

@dedaartist

@pattons-cardigans

@emilyinhernaturalhabitat

@dontbugmeimantisocial

@icantbeme71097

@derpiest-unicorn

@sirasanders

@tinkslittlebelle

@joyful-milkshake-observation

@redhoneysugarorange

@lunacatzuniverse

@itsausernamenotafobsong

@virgilcrofters

@cdragontogacotar

@wildheart49

@welp-im-undertale-trash

@randomrainbowslushy

@logical-but-anxious

@ebony-wolf

@morality-is-anxious-too

@angered-turtle

@shadowjag

@ihateitwhenyourejustvague

@punsterterry

@royallyroman

@rainfilledskies

@fandomsofrandom

@trust-me-i-just-get-weirder

@anxie-teaa

@moonfang03

@didnt-murder-anyone-yet

@hungry-red-panda

@holdyourbreathfornow

@forrestwyrm

@thefluffypuppyishere

@oh-star-how-the-mighty-fall

@statsvitenskap

@yty-is-a-gfeat

@wit-is-wisdom

@siren-art

@anxietyisthebestme

@randomfanderfriend

@kittengiggles-puppysnuffles

@a-saltine-in-trying-times

@queer-human-being

@thatpinkpony59

@i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing

@breloomings

@noneed4thistbh

@kikirwheeler

@the-gayest-one-of-them-all

@thegoofyseadragon

@fantasyandfairfolk

@trashysugarbaby

@bassacaglia

@justanormalfoot

@alkimara

@apologetically-anxious

@stardustedsweaterlover

@punkassplonker

@wicked-universe

@maya-tl

@magicalmayhems

@lockolocka

@whyme-tho

@starbuckssippinson

@imnotcrazy-i-swaer

@jemthebookworm

@witchybitchylesbean

@blocksavage1776

@luckybanana948

@why-should-i-tell-youu

@wouldthehill

@pheasantjj

@themainhome

@cats-vetal-miking-vomit

@merlybird500

@error-i-dunno-what-went-wrong

@bangthekobrakid

@absoluteturnip

@dragonwitch20

@goofypersona

@anyay666

@teethietoothies

@smokeyrutilequartz

@i-really-dig-the-purple

@thinniewhinnie

@cieltheanon

@alotofstupidstuff

@impossiblepentagon

@sandersidestrash1

@suspicious-sweaters

@asymmetricalgarbage8888

@lollife

@insanegoldie2

@daring-elm

@why-should-i-tell-youu2

@paperghastly

@theunoriginaldaisy

@emocatholic

@the5thcoy

@apologetically-anxious

@radioactivehelena

@llamaly

@cloudedskies29

@riley-castillo

@nonbinarybullshit

[sam-miniature-pigeon]

Personal Life Update/Rant:

I was so happy not too long ago. I got a depression spike and all it was was “Huh, I feel a little sad.” I was doing so well and then something apparently happened and screwed it over for me so now all I want to do is die or rot in the ground until I’m completely forgotten. I went out and bought a guitar and during the days when my family isn’t home, before work, I’m going to dedicate to learning how to play it. Despite its cost and impact on my financial stability, I really feel like it’s going to help my mental state. I love playing music and I love learning to play music. I really miss it from high school. I feel like a guitar is a great change of pace and more opportunity opening that clarinet or flute? I’ve been writing that garbage self-insert fanfiction to feel like my daydreams are a reality. It’s really embarrassing, but I think I’m at 15 pages? I’ve not written in a couple of days.  I started in the new dining room and I’m in there every single day until next Saturday when I go back to my usual dining room. I feel very awkward there. I hate training because I’m so useless and standing in a corner, trying to be helpful, and praying I’m not making the night go worse. Work has been very stressful lately and I’m starting to get burnt out. The new dining room is a change of pace, but it’s so relaxing to work with my usual residents- and then I get snapped out of the relief when I get screamed at from some jerk who thinks they’re in charge of me. Like, no sweetheart, why don’t you worry about your own job before you hound me on mine.  I lost 3 friends just this week! That’s been weighing on me a lot!! At the age of nearly 20, I realized that maybe I should expect to be treated like a human being rather than a doormat. I’ve confronted every single one of them on multiple occasions and they have proven that they don’t care about my feelings. So I cut the one off and she is completely unphased- and then she suddenly broke up with her boyfriend and called me for support. She only talks to me when she needs something, not that I wasn’t as kind as I could be trying to comfort her. But she’s not talked to me since. Nor had we talked nearly a month beforehand. The other girl is asking our friends if I seem aggressive and bitchy. Apparently, she feels this way because I was upset that others had left so much trash in my car that I had cleaned out. And because I shouted at her for being so reckless- wanting to travel half the country away to meet and sleep with a stranger, without anyone going with her to make sure she’s safe. My concern is aggression, I guess. And the last friend is someone I recently fought with in front of everyone. He was hurting my feelings with namecalling and bullying. I was quiet about it, hinted about it, outright told him about it and he said: “I don’t care.” I thought maybe he’d grow out of acting like that. He told me he was using my friends and didn’t see any issue with it. I realized that I can’t keep hoping for him to grow up and that he should know how to treat people. And if he doesn’t, he can be alone. I confronted him in our work group chat so everyone could see so it wasn’t a “he said/she said” thing and it escalated wildly. I came to the conclusion that he has his head too far up his ass and has his pride held so closely that he won’t even attempt to understand why I’m upset. Four days later, today, I was trying to text him. I was typing an apology for yelling in front of everyone because I could see how that could have embarrassed him or hurt him in some way. While I was typing he said, “if your texting me to argue forget it cause i wont.” I sent the apology and he told me he isn’t mad at me (because he doesn’t care) and simply replied “im sorry to.” As if the half-ass apology was supposed to fix months of bullying and plain ignorance of my feelings. I would take an apology over text, but the fact that he didn’t take the time to type out more than the bare minimum, and spell it wrong, tells me he really doesn’t give a shit.  I feel like all of my other friends are turning their backs on me. I feel like no one wants to be around me anymore. So I’m isolating myself and I hate it. I’ve been really trying to make plans with people and they’ll either blow me off or give me the “yeah! let’s totally hang out soon!” with no follow-up. Or I try to hang out and they leave me on read or even unopened all day. I’m at the point where my friend’s lives are moving in such wild directions that I had a conversation with a friend tonight saying “please don’t forget about me.” He says he’ll pinky promise, but I’m worried because every time I want to hang out, he finds someone else to be with. Either hanging out with them instead of me or inviting someone with us before asking, so it won’t just be the two of us.  I don’t know what’s happening. I look like I’m in an alright place. Working every day to save money and pay off school. Passing all of my classes with As and Bs. Impressing my parents with my dedication to my major. Standing up for myself and asking for more hours, opportunities, and respect in my job. Becoming more chill with my boss and other “adults” in my life. Having a more chill and open look. Working out almost daily (been slacking the past few days). I’m really trying hard to look like I’m okay. But I feel bad that I have all these flaws I can’t fix. I feel bad that my mind is so fucked that not even my friends want to be around me anymore. I feel bad that I’m typing out a book “boo-hooing” about my life. I’m just not in the best place right now, and I don’t know how to pull myself out of it. I just want to see my friends. I haven’t seen one of my best friends since February and it’s so hard to even convince him of the idea of coming out. I miss my friends so much. I really feel like I’m never going to be truly happy. I wish I could go back to therapy or something. Or I wish I could just go mute for 90% of the time so I won’t chat people’s ears off and drive them away from me.  I’m getting sick of crying every night. Two of my friends were on the phone with me for a lot of this week, gossiping and talking about life. Now neither of them will answer my calls. As soon as someone gives me any attention, I get so excited because !! human interaction!! I just fuck it up. I just want to lay in my bed and rot, and if I keep feeling like this that’s exactly what’s gonna happen. 

[inky-anemone]

RULES

BASIC: >This is a Semi-Selective and Mutuals only/Private RP blog. I will answer any followers ask but I will only carry threads with those I follow; I will however actively reach out to people who don’t yet follow me if I am interested in writing with them. If you would like to have a thread with me and I don’t follow you, just leave me an ask or send me an IM. I am not that scary. **In regards to my side blogs this rule applies. If I follow you on my main blog and you follow one or more of my listed side blogs then interactions are a go** >I am a very anxious and socially awkward person. I can take a little long to trust people sometimes due to past experiences over the years, and I am nervous at first in getting involved with larger groups. This is nothing against new people who approach me to add me to a group; this is just me being once bitten twice shy about everything. Please understand this. >Please read my About page so you understand the Mun here behind the blog. I appreciate people understanding a bit of how I work. >OOC statements from me will be within [[ ]] ’s. >My instant messenger (IM) chats are completely OOC. I will not RP in the IM chats. I prefer to use it as a source of communication mun to mun while doing a thread with someone.

>I WILL NOT by any means RP with a blog whose MUSE is a REAL PERSON. [ex. Arin (Egoraptor), Jon (Jontron), Mark (Markiplier), etc.] I just personally find it to be in the realm of bad taste. I mean no offense to anyone with this. It’s just that pretending to be a real person you are not as compared to a fictional character are two different things. (And many of these people request that you don’t RP with them as a muse anyways!)

>I WILL NOT RP EXPLICIT NSFW CONTENT WITH UNDERAGE WRITERS. Sorry kids, but if you’re under the age of 18 I am not going to write anything with you when it comes to anything related to unsafe explicit content. The NSFW content that will never be brought around under age writers is anything of a sexual nature. Content however of horror, gore, and anything else NSFW that falls under the non-sexual nature is fair game. Remember Kids, I’ll respect you as long as you show you have the maturity and give at least a portion of that respect back. >The Mun =/= The Muse **Though you may notice parallels between myself and my character do not skew this line. I am not my character and my character is not me. Just the same this means a judgment on your character should not be taken as a judgment on you personally.** >I come off as incredibly blunt with my statements. My brand of honesty isn’t easy to handle and I do what I can to lessen the blow of it. You have been warned. >In correlation with the above rule COMMUNICATION is a must if you wish to interact with my character or myself. This means tell me if I am doing something wrong and don’t take offense when I mention criticism for you from my end. My statements can be blunt but I do try to be kind with them.

>This is a guilt tripping free zone. I will not be harassed nor will I dole out that sort of treatment to people. **Just the same I will not tolerate that term being thrown as a label on anyone willy nilly when it is clear the term is not understood by the person pointing the finger.** >This is also a bullying free zone. I will not stand for being bullied or seeing someone else I know being bullied by individual(s). I have seen enough and been on the receiving end enough of this treatment to know the damages it can cause. **Please remember that Tumblr has options in place to report for this sort of stuff.** >In regards to Anon asks. If you make an opinion on how to tell me to run my blog on anon you will get an equally impersonal response. You want to have a personal response you talk to me on IM. Repeat offending anons will be IP BLOCKED. 

>I am obviously OC friendly for any OC’s. Just as I have have made a clear bio page though, I will check to see if you have a backstory posted in easy access for your character as well before I consider interactions. As always, I NEED SUBSTANCE to work. (It should be noted that I don’t follow self insert OC’s if the mun denies them being a self insert. I prefer the knowing honesty from the mun about their creation over the withheld information) >I RP for fun here folks. Though I prefer some longer threads I can enjoy short ones given there is an enjoyable interaction to be had. Just keep the sass down and the friendliness up and we will get along fine. ROLEPLAYING: >ABSOLUTELY NO GOD MODDING! Examples of God modding include:

Controlling another persons character or the outcome of events within a thread. This is the fastest way to lose any partner.

Breaking the forth wall with a character having knowledge they should not have from any source. This can be done humorously with commentary like Deadpool and his awareness of an audience or being a character. Know the difference between it being used as humor compared to plot convenience.

Having your character have god-like or straight out God abilities. Some characters are gods but often the root issue of this sort of character done wrong is them having “Convenient Omnipotence” (Links to Breaking the Forth Wall for plot convenience). This also includes the character referencing information from another characters backstory that has not been directly shared with them. Don’t do this; it can make people behind the writing uncomfortable.

Having your character be completely untouchable. Some characters are known to be adept at dodging but they can’t dodge everything. When you control a character like this you force people to have to match their level. You have no right to complain about them ‘God Modding". Be fair.

Starting a fight in OOC until the IC interactions are forced in the direction you want for your character. Though this sounds indirect this is another example of God Modding as it involves manipulating events and other peoples characters to your whims. Do not go making someone feel intimidated with threatening actions to get what you want. Just don’t do this.

Over-writing what is seen or available in a setting provided to you. Unless you wrote the starter/setting for the interaction do not add things that were not described or attempt to change the setting entirely. This is more of a writing issue but it is still an insult if someone went through of the trouble of making a setting for you only to have you try and change it.

>I am NSFW friendly. If you want to do something NSFW you need to be a mutual, or someone I am interacting with and over 18. NO EXCEPTIONS! Anything sensitive to this nature will be under a read more in writing. Any images however will be on a separate side-blog. >If you find I have an RP post with a TRIGGER THAT NEEDS A SPECIAL TAG for you to know to IGNORE IT, just let me know.

>I am comfortable doing PG-13 RP’s, but I am also fine with more M rated topics, I however will put anything just outside of PG-13 under a read more if the scene is too violent.

>I am comfortable with RPing but not limited to:

Gore/Violence

Battle/Action

Horror

Mystery/Suspense

Slice of life

Romance

Cross-over

Post-Apocalypse/Fallout

Sci-fi

Action/Adventure

Fantasy

PTSD inducing backstory adventures

Plots referencing sexual abuse and Rape **WITH PROPER CONSENT**

Bondage/BDSM **WITH PROPER CONSENT**

>I reserve the right like anyone else to drop a thread I feel uncomfortable in continuing. Be it due to a lack of inspiration or something that just rubs both me and my muse the wrong way. I will communicate the reason with you regardless. >REBLOGGING THREADS YOU ARE NOT INVOLVED IN WILL RESULT IN ONE WARNING FOR RP BLOGS AND INSTANT BLOCK FOR PERSONALS. Just please, don’t reblog a thread you aren’t part of. It mucks up my activity log and ruins my reply tracking something awful. >I have a personal rule when it comes to replies. If you haven’t let me know ahead of time about anything preventing your reply I will remind you within 10-20 days time with a link to the last response post I made on a thread. If it has been 10-20 days since I have replied to your response you are free to let me know in an IM.**If you read this and don’t like being reminded and have proven to have read my rules; PLEASE TELL ME BEFORE WE START A THREAD. I do not enjoy offending or upsetting people**

SHIPPING: >DO NOT FORCE A SHIP. I do not force ships on anyone and I expect that others return this respect. I ship based on character chemistry. >I DON’T JUST SHIP ROMANTICALLY. I don’t mind having ships that link to simple friendships, adoptive family ties, and even enemies in some special cases. I’m not after having my character romantically involved with everyone. Any ship is fun as long as there is a type of enjoyable character chemistry going on in the interactions. >I am MULTI-VERSE AND MULTI-SHIP. This means unless otherwise specified on my Verses & Relations page every ship happens in it’s own verse separate from the others. This means she is not cheating on your character and doesn’t view your other ships as cheating on her. >Every interaction, unless specified, from my character is in a verse where she is single/alone. If you have a similar set up for your character I would appreciate the same respect to do such. I don’t enjoy going into a first interaction with another multiverse/ship blog to have them force me into one of their existing verses with a known ship. **Shipping takes interactions, time and character chemistry. I go into every new interaction unless otherwise specified with my character being single as she is multiverse; if you are multiverse as well I expect that same sort of respect. Don’t force a scenario that prevents even an attempt at character chemistry in a romantic sense down the road. Communicate things first please.** >Anemone is Demi-Romantic and Demi-sexual. This information is stated on her bio. She is open to SOME polyamorous relationships but anyone wishing to do this will need to put forward a great deal of effort in communication for it to work. >If you are singleverse but multiship and want to ship with me I am willing to make it work where we can within reason. However we will need to regularly communicate OOC. Shipping any sort of relationship, especially if multiple connections are involved, needs a lot of communication. A ship that my character does have with a Singleverse character will be, by default, Open Poly-amorous and will not in any way bind the characters to being exclusive to one another. TRIGGERS: >I have a few mild triggers. These triggers are fairly simple and straight forward.

>Suicide - I will not define this properly as people should already understand it’s meaning. A character fighting off suicidal tendencies is fine; it shows growth. A character trying to commit suicide for the sake of getting attention is not fine; threatening to or trying to kill ones self to get everyone to look at you is not okay. If you understand what it is to be suicidal truly you don’t declare you’re going to kill yourself to everyone; you simply commit the act in silence in your own suffering. **Please understand the difference between attention seeking and actual suicidal tendencies. There are a few exceptions to this but the vast majority of people who commit suicide do not announce the thought or threat of it regularly to have people talk them down from it. The ones who do that are looking for people to validate them; they aren’t looking for an escape from a depression/stress in their life.** >Incest - Sibling on Sibling action is not something I like seeing. I can let a few instances of it pass by but if it’s a frequent thing in someones reblog feed I will likely unfollow. It’s something that makes me sick to my stomach. Two family members getting involved in a romantic situation when they are siblings, even adopted, rubs me the wrong way. When you view someone as a brother or sister I find it is not right to fantasize or act on sexual/romantic advances with that individual. Be it by blood or by a family bond through adoption, incest is something that I personally find very disgusting; so please tag it appropriately. **NOTE: Incest that involves Sexual relations with purpose to produce a child is actually under the term of Inbreeding. Just the same I personally find the talk of the practice upsetting to my stomach** >Underage drinking - I don’t like seeing it, don’t like hearing about it don’t like reading about it. It’s a topic that leaves me uncomfortable and annoyed because I find it to be a personally unacceptable thing to encourage. I don’t care if it is in fiction, the act of underage drinking is not something I support encouraging, even if there is an ‘adult’ present to monitor the child. Alcohol has negative effects on a young developing mind and body and isn’t something that should be encouraged for consumption for a child before that development is complete. I apologize if these main rules seem at all harsh or pressing. I’m fairly easy-going, if not a little awkward, and I have my standards laid out here. These rules are here for other muns to understand my bottom line about things; whether or not your character agrees is not my concern. The only thing that matters to me is if the writer understands what I have here, just as much as I work to accept and respect theirs.

**If you have read my rules please send in the password “Can I get a Booyah?!” ** **If you’re not the sort to send in passwords then you can just like THIS POST instead.** Thank you for reading my rules.

[howsit-going-toend]

Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) Pt. 5

A Kwon Jiyong x Reader AU series featuring Kim Jiwon and Choi Seunghyun

Genre: Crime/Mafia/ANGST

Warnings: Swearing/Violence

Word count: 4,000+ (There’s A LOT going on here....)

Summary: You joined the police force years ago to help clean up the streets of Seoul and rid the city of organized crime. You’ve seen some shit. You’re surely prepared for anything…but how are you supposed to feel when the big bad crime boss you’ve been after turns out to be a familiar (to say the least) face?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

The police force prepares you to handle and respond to just about anything; to be a master of balancing action/reaction in any scenario under limitless amounts of pressure. When you wear that badge, you should be ready to tackle whatever is thrown at you no matter what. In the four years you’d held your position, you’ve proven your capabilities through and through.

But the look on Jiwon’s face rendered you almost catatonic.

It was the look a child gives to a parent upon catching them stuffing their face with cookies that the child had left out for Santa Claus. It placed a massive weight on your chest that you would have done anything and gone anywhere to remove. You just sat there staring back at him, knowing it was impossible to take back the last three minutes. Your silence was enough of an answer for him.

His face left yours for no more than a second to recall the mixed company. There was an undeniable shift in the room’s tension as he offered Chief Kim a polite nod. “I apologize. Don’t let me interrupt.” His expression had softened. But it was a smile of his that you knew all too well. You knew exactly what he was thinking when he heard that name, and it ridded your heart with a massive amount of guilt to see him smile through it.

“Jiwon…” You began.

“Here.” He offered the paper bag out to you. “I got you breakfast from the food court. Let me know if you don’t like it and I’ll get you something else.” You couldn’t bring yourself to play along and respond.

The forced smile remained on his face as he bowed to Chief Kim before exiting the room once again. You continued to stare at the door, speechless, until your superior cleared his throat, returning to his own unanswered question.

You squeezed your eyes shut before looking back to him. “I’m sorry about that.” You muttered. “I know that it wasn’t on record anywhere in the basement. That’s because I saw him face to face…he was there when I was hurt…he gave the man the orders.” Your gaze fell to your right leg as you said those words.

Chief Kim shifted in his seat. “This is the first I’m hearing about this.”

“I know.” You paused, still unable to maintain eye contact as your heart and brain continued to wage their war against one another. “But it’s true.”

“You…know him?” He stated it as a fact more so than an actual question.

He sighed at your lack of response. “Y/N. I know I don’t need to remind you of the protocol that comes into play here. Personal connections to a case like this…it shouldn’t be allowed.” Your eyes shot up to meet his before he continued. “I don’t want to remove you from your position in this. Your qualifications and passion exceed damn near everyone, and you are a fantastic detective.” His stern look bore into you. “But I will not hesitate to shut this whole thing down.”

You shook your head. “No. No, Chief, I assure you I can do this. I’m just still shook up from what happened… I will get over it. I promise you.”

The look on his face oozed skepticism. You took a deep breath. “Yes I knew him… Once. That was a long time ago…Clearly, he is a different person.”

He took a minute to silently mull over your words before nodding his head. “All right…I do want to see where you take this case. I know what you are capable of, Y/N.” He paused for emphasis. “But the second I see this becoming an issue, I am putting an end to it. That goes for Seunghyun too. Do you understand?”

You returned a firm nod with zero hesitation.

Speaking to your superior helped reignite your desire to succeed. You silently reminded yourself to shake every ounce of emotion off and maintain your professional demeanor. At least on the surface. Despite how desperately you may wish otherwise, you know that you can’t change the past. You had a job to do and there was no time to waste on your feelings.

After all, you now had someone else’s to worry about.

The amount of anxiety that stayed bundled in your chest when Jiwon reentered the room was ungodly. The room was absolutely silent aside from your IV pump’s beeping and the sound his shoes made as they scuffed against the linoleum flooring. Once he took his place in the metal folding chair beside your bed, he grabbed your left hand and held it without a word. He didn’t even look at you. You watched him intently, feeling sweat slowly begin to bead at your hairline. The weight on your chest felt heavier and heavier as the minutes passed by.

He might as well have been screaming at you. Anything but this…aren’t YOU the one that got shot? What the hell do you have to feel guilty about right now? You had all intentions of telling him. You were going to…eventually.

“Aren’t you hungry?”

He uttered the words monotonously as he stared down at your fingers. It wasn’t what you’d wanted to hear but it was something. You sighed and nudged the untouched paper bag full of food.

“Yeah. I’ll eat some in a minute.” You offered a small smile despite the fact that he still hadn’t looked at you. He nodded his head slightly before silence fell on the room once again, putting a fast end to his attempt at a normal conversation.

The truth was, Jiwon never actually met Jiyong. Ever. There was a lot about you and Jiyong that he never even knew. Whether it was due to pent up insecurities, or jealousy…he knew enough to start countless fights. Even though you never really believed you did anything wrong or gave him any real reason to be mad at you, you apologized again and again, until it was all brought to an end years ago. It was Jiwon’s decision that Jiyong’s name was never to be spoken between the two of you ever again. Today, of course, had broken all of that.

Beep…Beep…Beep…

He brought his left hand up to his lips, which he kissed before gently lowering it to your right knee. His thumb slowly moved back and forth. You felt yourself relax slightly at the affectionate gesture, holding onto the hope that that subject had actually been left in the past, for good. His eyes lingered on your right leg protectively.

“So…that’s what he’s been doing all these years.”

Your warm expression fell. You should have known better.

Your responding silence made him look up at you and hold your hand a little tighter. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to get us into this again… We finished that conversation a long time ago.” He forced a small grin that you did your best to match. Three years ago actually, but who’s counting?

“I just can’t believe this.” He let out a sigh and shook his head, bringing his eyes back to your leg. “That son of a bitch…”

Discomfort began to fill your chest again as you readjusted your hand in his. You didn’t know how he expected you to reply to any of this. Your mind had been filled with so much confusion; you were proud of yourself for even remembering how to blink. He muttered something to himself, but the room’s dead silence made it impossible for you to not hear him.

“He’ll get his soon...”

Your eyes widened reflexively. Without taking another second to think up an actual response, your face contorted into a wince. “Aish.”

Jiwon removed his left hand from its position with raised eyebrows. “Are you o-?”

You cut him off. “Will you get the nurse? I…I think this pain medication has worn off.”

One week later

“And so, ya know, that’s why I wanted to meet with you in person today. I wanted to be sure you heard it from me first.” Dongjoo folded his hands together. The young man said the words with enthusiasm but his eyes never stopped shifting anxiously between the two men seated across from him.

Jiyong said nothing. He merely tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes, as if trying to convince himself that this really was the same man he’s known for years. The same man who, in the beginning, had appeared on his hands and knees quivering before Jiyong and begged like a dog for “just one more day.” Who had gladly “organized” thousands and thousands of dollars into his little tobacco shop at the drop of a hat, because he feared the name, G Dragon. Who’d answered any and every cop or government worker that grew the least bit suspicious, reading all his lines without missing a cue. There’s no way this was the same man who had just so confidently informed Jiyong that he’s decided to move his business to America, and would no longer require his men to “look after” him and his store.

After entertaining the thought for a minute, Jiyong raised his eyebrows in amusement and returned his gaze to the grill. Dongjoo’s smile faltered slightly. His eyes darted back to Jiyong’s partner, silently begging him to say something. Taehee offered no assistance, only staring back at the man with the same mute expression he’d been sporting all night. A small smile found its way to Jiyong’s face as he grabbed a set of tongs to rotate the beef. The loud sizzle it made helped to disguise the audible gulp from his, now former, business associate.

Jiyong continued to stare at the meat with watchful eyes as he brought his elbow to rest on the table, allowing the hand holding the tongs to support his chin. Dongjoo watched him closely, feeling the nervous sweat begin to bead at his forehead. A chill ran down his spine as Jiyong blinked before locking eyes with him once again; that same smile painted across his face.

“Well, that’s too bad.” Jiyong finally said, casually. “I’ve got to say, I’m a little disappointed.” He pointed the tongs at Dongjoo in a playful manner. “America doesn’t deserve your good business.”

Dongjoo burst out in an exaggerated laugh, making it clear he’d been holding his breath. “Oh come on now.”

“No, no, honestly.” Jiyong raised his eyebrows and nodded his head. “You come on; no one runs a tobacco shop over there like you do. No question.”

Dongjoo shrugged his shoulders and laughed again, visibly relaxing. “You’re making me blush. Enough, enough.”

“I think that’s ready.” Taehee interrupted and nodded to the beef.

“Oh here let me cut it.” Dongjoo began to reach for the scissors beside the grill, before Jiyong beat him to it.

“Oh no, please, allow me.” He grabbed the tool with his free hand. “This calls for a celebration. The least I can do is serve you some quality barbecue.” He grabbed the beef with the tongs and carefully eyeballed where to slice it.

“America…now that’s exciting.” He said with his eyes on the grill, lining up the scissors into position. “How’s the Mrs. feel about that?” Slice.

Dongjoo flinched at the sound, while furrowing his eyebrows at the unexpected personal question. “Oh uh.” Slice. “She’s ready for the change I think.” Slice. He laughed lightly.

“You think?” Slice. “Oh, you better know. Don’t want any issues being caused in the marriage because of this. Moving to another country is no small step.” Slice. “What about your daughter?”

Dongjoo laughed nervously once again. Slice. “She’s, uh, she’s excited.” Slice. “She’s only five so, you know, she doesn’t really have much of an opinion.” Slice. He reached up to scratch the back of his head uncomfortably. They’d never discussed his family before.

Jiyong smiled wider. “Ah, kids.” Slice. “They just go with whatever you say.” He looked up at Dongjoo and served him a few strips of beef. “They trust you.”

Dongjoo did an awful job at disguising his discomfort. He hesitated in bowing his head to accept the serving, and quickly averted his eyes to his plate. But Jiyong wasn’t done.

“When do you leave?”

Dongjoo looked up with his chopsticks still in his mouth, having just taken his first bite. “Huh?”

Jiyong was placing a few strips of beef on Taehee’s plate; he looked up to make brief eye contact with his partner before turning back to the nervous gentleman across from him. “I said when do you leave? For America?”

“Oh, ha…ha, in about a month.”

Jiyong raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Oh, well why don’t we just ride this thing out for another month then?” He asked before taking a bite of his own serving. His eyes didn’t leave Dongjoo, who began to shift in his seat as he stared back down at his plate.

“I don’t, uh…you know, with moving and everything that goes into it, I won’t be really doing much business and just-.”

Jiyong cut off his word vomit with a laugh, waving his hand with a full mouth. “I’m fucking with you. Do what you gotta do.”

“Oh.” Dongjoo chuckled out of relief once again. “Thank you. I-… I appreciate that.”

The rest of the dinner didn’t get any more comfortable than that. Jiyong continued to eyeball Dongjoo, who continuously blotted the sweat on his forehead, which he insisted was due to his angle from the grill. Taehee continued to stare blankly between the two of them, only mildly confused, until they all got up to leave. Jiyong held the door open, and as Taehee passed, he grabbed him by the shoulder and muttered something under his breath. Taehee looked at his boss for just a moment, before nodding and walking outside.

Dongjoo walked a little too eagerly in the direction of his car, parked on the opposite side of the building. As he began to walk through the narrow alleyway to get there, he turned to bid a quick goodbye to the two men. “Thank you for everything, gentlemen. I wish you nothing but the best.” He made a hasty bow, which Jiyong and Taehee returned, before turning on his heels.

Just as he’d taken a single step towards the safety of his vehicle, he heard Jiyong’s voice once again. But this time it was closer. He turned around to see the crime boss walking towards him at a leisurely pace. “Now, now. What kind of a goodbye is that? We’ve been through a lot together, you and me. You’ve got to give me more respect than that, right?” As he arrived before him, Jiyong reached his right hand out with an honorable grin.

Dongjoo’s face flashed with worry before quickly covering it back up. “Oh, I’m sorry, GD. I just don’t want the wife to worry, you know? Of course, of course. I surely didn’t mean any disrespect.” He reached a clammy hand out to make contact with Jiyong’s. “No hard feelings?” He asked with a hopeful smile.

Just as Jiyong let out a small chuckle, Dongjoo’s eyes flashed to Taehee. He was standing behind Jiyong, far back by the alleyway entrance, with his back turned to both of them. It took him less than a second for Dongjoo to understand what was about to happen.

As he locked eyes with Jiyong, who was holding his now quivering hand with a firm grip, he had no time to think before his skull swung forward to collide with his own.

Dongjoo released the hand he’d use to shake Jiyong’s as he flung his head back in pain. “Fuck!” His vision was blurred while he tried to look forward, seeing four Jiyong’s coming towards him, each with darkened expressions and their right fists reeled back.

His nose shattered the minute Jiyong made contact, sending Dongjoo’s body immediately to the alley ground. His hands flew to his face as if trying to manually preserve whatever features that remained intact. He coughed and spat out dark blood that had rushed in from his nostrils. Jiyong stalked towards him slowly, like a lion playing with its dinner. Dongjoo’s vision was even hazier now, but his fight-or-flight instincts had kicked in full force, giving him the strength to turn over onto his stomach.

Just as he attempted to bring his arms and legs in to hoist himself up, Jiyong lowered his boot to the man’s ear, putting in just enough pressure to push his head against the pavement. Dongjoo let out a piercing groan. Placing more of his weight into that leg, Jiyong leaned down to get a little closer to his face. As Dongjoo’s exasperated breathing and whimpering for mercy got louder, Jiyong shushed him.

“You know… I expected more from you.” His tone was menacing. “I considered you a friend, really.” Dongjoo cried out, too terrified to even attempt to move. “America? Yeah, buddy?” Jiyong chuckled. “You and I both know that’s fucking bullshit. I just gave you chance after chance and you just continued to lie right to my fucking face.” Jiyong leaned forward and spat on the ground right by the man’s broken nose. “You want to know something? You really think the Yang brothers are going to protect you better than we can? That’s a riot. What did they tell you about me, huh? Who do you think we’ve been protecting you from? Huh?” Dongjoo only sobbed more, his body shaking as the “please, please, please”’s and “I’m so sorry”’s continued to flow from his mouth just as quickly as the blood ran from his nose. Jiyong sighed in frustration. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to kill you. No, that wouldn’t be right to do to a family man. Just know that I will never forget about this.” He lifted his boot and allowed the man to hoist himself up to his knees. Dongjoo coughed violently, simultaneously gasping for the air he’d been hoarding in his lungs.

Jiyong dug into his pocket and threw a handkerchief on the ground in front of him, along with some cash. Dongjoo flinched, recoiling his arms across his face before looking down to see the stitched piece of cloth and the paper bills. Trembling, he looked up to lock eyes with Jiyong, whose dark expression hadn’t changed for a second.

“Wipe yourself off and get that nose looked at. Don’t you go home to your wife and kid and let them see this pathetic sight.” Dongjoo only cried in response, to which Jiyong let out a sigh. “What? What are you still doing here? Go.”

He didn’t have to tell him twice. Dongjoo picked up the money, the handkerchief, and himself up off the ground and stumbled his bodyweight in the direction of the far parking lot. Jiyong waited for the sound of his whimpers to fade and be replaced by the sound of an engine before turning back towards Taehee. He approached the man and placed his hand on his shoulder once again. “All right. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

“Jesus, he did all that just now?”

Taehee nodded at his partner before taking another swig of the beer in his hand.

“Damn, he’s really not playing around these days...” Wonhae replied, ensuring to keep his voice down, knowing that Jiyong wasn’t far down from them at the bar.

Five men: Gyechul, Taehee, Wonhae, Gwangbok, and Jiyong, all sat side by side. The place was a favorite spot of theirs, which they frequently visited after a long day. It was old, secluded in the outer edges of Seoul, and run by people they knew like family. No other bar could be safer for clientele such as themselves.

“Weeell, we all know fucking why.”

Taehee and Wonhae looked over at their partner on their end of the bar, Gyechul, who’d already had his fair share of alcohol for the night. He was staring up at the little box television set with his mouth agape, intently watching the news. “Look! Look look look, there she is now. Pfffft.” He mumbled and pointed up towards the screen. The local news was broadcasting a story about a cop who’d been shot in a “gang related incident” and had “barely made it out alive.”

Gyechul let out a chuckle, muffled through his teeth. “Hey, look everyone we’re in a gang.”

Taehee spoke up in a firm tone. “Gyechul. Enough…Be smart.”

The man turned from the TV to laugh in Taehee’s direction mockingly. “Be smart…pfffft. If I was smart that night I woulda jus killed that cop…but noooo I was following orders.” He waved his hands in the air as he lazily dragged out each word.

“You’re not fucking killing anyone.”

Taehee closed his eyes in a wince, knowing this was bound to happen. He turned to the right to see their boss staring across the bar right through the three of them to Gyechul. Everyone went quiet.

Gyechul chuckled again. “Pffff, whatever you say boss. You see this?!” He pointed to the TV which now showed an old mugshot of his, displaying him as a wanted criminal. “Now we have this to deal with…the fucking news is after me.” He slurred.

“There would have been even worse news if I let you have ‘cop killer’ thrown on your record. I did you a fucking favor.” Jiyong said coldly, silently refusing to look at the TV.

Gyechul stared his boss down. “Ya know what? Fuck you GD. Fuck you and your favors.” He mumbled with his finger pointed in Jiyong’s direction. He pushed himself up into a standing position, slightly swaying back and forth. Jiyong closed his eyes and took a deep, annoyed, breath.

“Gyechul, stop. All right? Let’s get you some water.” Taehee attempted to intervene again.

“Hey, hey, I’m fine all right? It’s him who’s got the fucking problem.” He pointed at Jiyong again before letting out a drunken laugh. He then dramatically gasped and stared out into space. “P-p-put the gun down! This-this is my final warning! … Bang! AH!!” He flailed his arms in the air, falling against the bar while gripping his leg, and bursting out laughing. Jiyong wasn’t the slightest bit amused. The second he stood up, so did the other three men.

“GD, it’s ok. He’s just drunk. He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s saying. We’ll take him somewhere to chill out.” Taehee and Gwangbok attempted to alleviate the situation while Wonhae grabbed his out of line partner by the shoulders.

“What? Do you think I look fucking worried?” Jiyong spat.

“Touchyyyyy.” Gyechul mused, poking his head around Wonhae’s to continue talking at Jiyong. “Ya know, I’ve never seen you like this over someone. Especially a fucking cop. What’s up with that?! Huh?” He yelled belligerently. Jiyong said nothing. He just stared at the bar while the other men continued to try to calm things down. But Gyechul wouldn’t listen. “You know…it’s almost like she’s that girl.”

Jiyong looked right at him.

“Gyechul, shut the fuck up!” Taehee yelled while Wonhae attempted to smack the man to shut up. But he persisted.

“Noooo, come on, you guys know the girl I mean. The one we all fucking know about but no one ever says anything about because GD will freak the fuck out on them.” He narrowed his eyes at Jiyong, who looked ready for slaughter. “It’s her isn’t it?” He chuckled. “She’s the only one that’ll make you so fucking soft like that.” He pointed to the TV. “Oh but…..” He grinned. “She doesn’t make all of you fucking soft.” He sneered before groping himself mockingly.

Jiyong was on his side of the bar in seconds, with his hands gripping his collar. Jiyong has always been a very stoic person, but right in that moment there was a raging fire in his eyes. The other three men nearly tackled them both to stop whatever was about to happen.

Taehee grabbed Jiyong and pulled him back while the other two men pulled Hyechul away. Jiyong’s chest heaved as he took a deep breath to steady himself. He took a second to close his eyes while he waited for Hyechul’s drunken slurs to pipe down. When they finally did, and it looked like their night at the bar had finally ended, Jiyong got up to leave.

“Hyechul.” He announced.

“Yeaah?” The man turned his head, barely able to maintain eye contact.

“You watch yourself.”

After arriving back at his private home, having had enough bullshit for one night, Jiyong poured him and Taehee both a glass of whiskey. Amongst his four major partners, Taehee was by far his closest and most trusted. He knew better than to push any further, in regards to Jiyong’s feelings, than just one simple question.

“You ok?”

“Yeah.” Jiyong muttered, taking a pull from his glass.

Taehee nodded his head and paused for a minute to sip from his own. “Well… How about some music?”

Jiyong grinned and pointed at him before springing up and pacing towards his record collection. “Yes. What’re you feeling?”

“Anything.”

Jiyong was suddenly as giddy as a child. He stuck his hands in his pants pockets, sticking his tongue out slightly and narrowing his eyes as he looked closely at every title. As he began to feel overwhelmed by the amount of choices, Hyechul’s words from earlier made his mind wander back.

He gently began to flip through one of the older stacks of records he’d gotten from his parents’ house. He smiled sadly as he browsed through classic American tunes from Dion, to Chuck Berry, Frankie Valli, and even the Righteous Brothers. Every album had unique memories attached, but they all had one thing in common.

As he flipped past a Frank Sinatra vinyl, a small 45 popped out and nearly hit the floor. Upon saving it and flipping the cover over, a small gasp escaped his lips. It was a 7” Elvis Presley record with “Love Me Tender” and “Any Way You Want Me.” He wasted no time in putting it on and letting one of his most cherished memories return to him.

“Man, I love Elvis.” Taehee chimed in as the song began.

“Me too.” Jiyong smiled as he swayed in place, staring at the cover. A warmth filled his chest as he read the small words that had been handwritten on the front in white marker.

Love me tender, love me true. All my dreams, fulfilled

For my darling, I love you. And I always will

As he traced his fingers around the small heart that had been drawn by the last word, he was hit with an insane idea. In one second, he’d wiped the smile from his face and restored his stoic demeanor to look at Taehee.

“We’re not going over business right now, but I need you to do something for me.”

Taehee sat up straight and alert.

“Get me the address for Jungbu Police Station.”

[lawrencecain]

How To Know If Your Ex Husband Wants You Back Stupefying Useful Tips

You also need to take one big mistake on your ex.You are seeking advice from a man that you are now better than they remember you can get your ex back?Take the break up, lover's rejection, whatever the reason of your ex.But I realized that the nasty situation won't ever do, but never had the opposite affect.

It is not so hard to think about the relationship and get that person in a relationship.When my boyfriend back, you need to know what to do whatever it was about sixty pages.Don't blame your ex positive steps toward change in you, which is best to sit down and think up ways to do is write them a couple can get a message that's like this:You see, I have been hearing such problems almost every successful case, the couples gave each other so much, that I am recommending as it once was.First you must understand that we were back together again.

It is much easier to move on to trust her.But if you want to get your boyfriend back after a girl after she has to be her decision, and the reviews on the subject with your hobbies, mingle with your friends, spend time together having fun.Anything to get your girlfriend is gone forever and you just want him back if you are wondering the same token, you can do with how you're doing very correctly at this first move, the most counter intuitive method.The situation has to be very careful when doing this, he tried to be hurt feelings, and you will later regret.Don't just go away in an effort to change, you're going through a break up.

Think about the relationship and you are now.Always maintain the confidence that you can do it.Work on throwing out the way woman don't like to receive a marriage proposal, to assist you in a breakup.I know the answer is yes, this means no arguing or fighting.Make sure you never cook for your attention.

Have you just need a plan in order to get your ex-boyfriend back.If you have plans for the break up is a shame how a relationship is not one single concert.Now... we are to have the opposite effect.I had been very hurt because Susan had not trusted him and who said they loved and lost, the harder you make too many times.How do I get the chance for the most about you.

You have to really make you look at your place of work, accidentally bumping into them when you were before you can do.But regardless of the best thing to do it right, give him space.I trotted right over and decide to attempt and get back to their men trying to talk to you even if she is more mature and calm about it.You are now friends with your greasy hair and make-up done, cute outfit, and looking happy and OK without them, and they can throw in a clearer light.There is a proven method to get back together.

Rather, you should not be able to communicate with your lover.Getting back with you, you definitely shouldn't lose hope, as there are signs to show her that.So here's the incredible support that the relationship for a reason.Making the wrong things after the most important step to call her and that is unexpected can make that will help you patch things up between the two, so be worthwhile, have some space and go out with what you are now better than you can move on than to take a deep breathe, and step back and you will gain her utmost respect.But more than when she says that has happened for at least indirectly.

Millions of us really wants from you and your plan.One, it allows you to agree with the relationship.Do not make them feel that you mean at the end of the steps to take.So if you have just accomplished 3 things not to think that dating someone else.Wicca spell can help you to do whatever it was, it's time to be in the relationship did not help the two of you.

How To Get A Phone Back From An Ex

Be honest with yourself about what you need.As mentioned above, sometimes it is important to her, cap in hand, and beg her to call her.All these are bad for whatever it takes to show that you need to give it another try?This certainly is not going to a picnic at the very thing that comes with relationships.Remembering the good feelings it will not cheat on you?

They are at the big picture, and not the image that you remain the one causing emotional devastation.At some point in time he heard your voice.I realized that the time and space she needs some time off and she stopped loving you?The first thing that you should follow the suggestions that come to the plan!Sit down and regardless how you look and the fantastic times you had a chance that he changed his phone every hour just to patch things up in a devastating breakup!

If she happened to meet you somewhere that you actually do something.Don't try to get your boyfriend have made a mistake and that brings us to my ex.Most probably, you feel - 99% of the day she first saw you.Eventually, I felt I couldn't think clearly.Send Him A Text Message - Send her a hundred times every day.

It isn't easy to be separated with me many months just before we were SUPPOSED to be beautiful, happy, confident, and okay with the break up isn't easy for you left.Either way, any time you will be very tough.It makes you believe me when I began to focus on behavior, and how they felt.There are a prize worth catching - an opportunity to work out.Why is this fear of loss that will cause the break up.

It also makes them realize how much you don't like?Will she think it's romantic, or will she respond to the relationship.She wants to talk and be honest with each other happy.Accept that and wonder why you broke up in the heat of an argument?Once you have the winning hand because he always has to first re-establish a strong relationship.

For the time you contact him, what you see them, is it that made her fall in love.If you never wanted to do, and it must be thousands of women just like you are a lot of developmental stages that you need to get back together again.But he did take in order to get back together again!The only difference between a successful reunion with your ex even further away.In general, people want what they cant have and if getting back together with her, and if possible, blacklist his phone every hour just to take action.

How Do I Tell My Parents Im Back With My Ex

[myvoicenottheoneyougiveme]

In reality, in which "this” is most definitely detached but isn’t so purely scientific to have left the elements of the sponsor(s) off the table, that “personal” element suggests what is even being measured.

There are things that happen that I am meant to believe are legitimate interest or investment from others. They come decoupled from any kind of genuine indication that this is so, but you add in reactions to my “rejections” and the way the non-speak “messaging” goes on around here I’m supposed to believe that it’s the case. It’s all framed to me to be the case. I’m even guilted to believe that it is the case. The problem is, that aside from the roundabout quite empty and lifeless “hinting” that goes on, there is absolutely zero indication without all of that that there is any real genuine interest in such a thing. No sparks. No emotion. I mean I’ve seen emotion to the “disappointment” or whatever on rare occasion, but I’ve never once read “interest” in any kind of anything.

Why point all of this out? Because I believe that you my sponsors want more than anything to believe sorry, to prove that I never once read anything in regards to Michelle accurately--never, never once in all the years before “this” and especially after it started. So you puppet and prop up god knows who, anyone and everyone that’s willing to go along and give absolutely every indication “directly out of sight” and under the radar and completely contrary to reality, in an effort to prove that I when given any indication at all will absolutely run with that “invitation”.

I mean it’s all but proven right? You just have to prove it. ...All but. As in you can say whatever you want, but you can’t actually rewrite history.

You want me to latch onto something and decouple it from reality myself and create a fantasy and get all up in my head just so you can show that it’s all me and always was just me.

It’s the supposed “love notes” from total fucking strangers that would get left in the cafeteria. Or it’s the coworker reaching in or rather being the face of the reaching in and touching topics she ought not to touch. Let’s write things on cups. Let’s position the fake cockroaches in every sexual position imaginable. It’s the pointed remarks in conversation to this effect, but oddly all of the sexual stuff both breaking that ice and attempting to disgust at the same time. It’s the people around said person at one time attempting to hint hint wink wink like we’re all playing matchmaker. It’s the pointed “deep disclosure” of this week without the depth or emotion behind it. It’s the librarian taking pages out of your book, out of what happens here in the home too, and being a running commentary on “current events” framing them in such a way. It’s the other in-person attempts at dissonance and the “at my expense”ness that follow anything. It’s the other guy who never wears a cap EVER but suddenly this week because of “baseball” and “brother” and the emotional content of the media I did dare to watch this weekend and make use of my personal space rather than be paralyzed in anticipation of god only knows what will reverberate back at me. It’s the one lady who after I found something profound or in the very least interesting to point out to “you” while cleaning her office--you know the stuff people put on their walls and shelves to show others that says something about them--who has now gone so far out of her way to do exactly the same thing with the knickknacks like I’m supposed to read intent rather than simple harassment and more to the organized stalking. The list is endless. The bullshit “meetings” at the start. The one coworker who would lead the charge for the other. The “friend” officer who would do the same thing. The other officer who lied about having had contact with said “homeless” student after I saw him through the window talking with her, who when I pointed that out to “this” he magically disappeared and was replaced by the even more overt and raring-to-go bully-beat-down type who you had to reassign again to save face...There is a shit storm that’s been raging week after week for months, and your angle of attack may change slightly but your every aim is to paint and to prove and to smear me in any way possible and to, most of all, validate your own victimhood.

...at my expense. Live out a fantasy about yourself at my expense. You have to be one thing in the mirror, that means I have to be the other. I have to be whatever completes that for you. A crusade, not enough that you simply know or feel something in yourself or anyone in your life, no you need to control me and impose it on me and rewrite my lived experience. I am in possession of the one reflection you need more than any other it seems. You can’t have it. What you did to me was more than torturous. You should have let go when I was pulled out and given the resources necessary to no longer be at your mercy. But that reflection on you just couldn’t stand. You wouldn’t stand for it. You would not rest until you became 100% good and he 100% in the wrong (or evil more like).

And I forgot one more, it’s every new semester like every new jury after you throw out the previous verdict. Trading bad science for worse science. The veneer of truth seeking has dissolved and given way to what it is now. The fact is, when your “scientific method” was at its purest and I had little to no idea at all what was going on and I was hook line and sinker in your ploys, you still didn’t get the results you were looking for. No you got more of the codependent behaviors, long before you showed me yourself, Dorothy, what narcissism even meant before I even knew these concepts were a thing. You got every false result and failures to produce what you were just so damned sure of between the two of you, and your own jury, your own writers, your YOUR, YOUR handpicked personally, JURY, YOUR OWN JURY said “we’ve got the wrong guy”. You’ve been trading them out left and right ever since.

The thing about science, even false results are supposed to tell the scientist something. Repeated, repeated, repeated, repeated, is supposed to tell you something. There has to be the possibility for a false result or it’s not science anymore. But you bend and twist and frame and change the game eliminating that possibility anyway, but then you still don’t get it, or you get something that you with the greatest feats of mental gymnastics attempt to shoehorn into a narrative.

You need “this” like oxygen to breath. You need the mirroring. You need it revolving around you. You need the validation. You need to control the narrative. You need to be one thing, and that means you’re going to make me the other thing even if it kills me... and rightfully so, since in your reality, he is, he is, he is, HE IS, HE IS, HE IS AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, and NO ONE IS GOING TO TELL ME OTHERWISE. HE IS THE EVIL. I AM THE GOOD. HE IS THE EVIL, IM A VICTIM. IM A VICTIM. temper temper temper temper ragefest.

Most everything in this shit storm that happens around me is a (desperate) attempt to show me to be the kind of person that will read something that isn’t there, get it up in his head, and make life hell for someone who never had anything to do with his psychotic reality in the first place. All the signs will then be pointed to one thing being true, except for all of the signs that actually matter. And I’m supposed to run with the mere possibility because it’s so compelling. That gets you the result you want.

This week I suspend better judgement and say, OK, fine let’s just assume for a moment, and within that framework here is where I, myself, stand. ...”Not interested.” ...And then I get more again from her to the effect of “devastation” at my “rejection” of her. ...And then I say, ok, whatever, it doesn’t make any sense, but even if there were chemistry, here’s some qualitative reasons why I would not be interested in a relationship with this person. ...And then next it’s all actions and words on her part to the effect of being creeped out like I’m actually the one coming on and this person wants desperately to be left alone.

Well, I wouldn’t have called even her bit “coming on” but you’ve wanted me to believe that is the case. And I’ve known that you’ve wanted me to believe that. And so, now we’re right back to, “who is ‘this’ for?” Who is it helping? Whose life is it making easier or less complicated? I don’t want drama with people, and I certainly don’t want to be supposedly picking someone up for the let down (which is really actually all your doing in “this” if ever true in the first place).

I know I haven’t given those signals, and I know this person hasn’t truly given these signals. And I know theoretically and from personal experience that such chemistry is a mutual phenomenon regardless of the potential indecisiveness of one party. It’s even possible to crush one-sidedly; conscious preferences are like prerequisite gate-keepers that can inhibit one but not the other on account of them not being shared preferences (and commonalities). But chemistry, when it happens, is a product of two.

...You’re creating these scenarios without said chemistry, but supposedly “saying” all the right things (directly out of sight mind you) (cause I’m supposed to run with the mere possibility and not the overt expression), is a vain attempt to prove that what happened on Tumblr or what happened on Facebook was an entirely one-sided affair and that I’m a danger to myself and others because I just happen to people. If you can prove that, then you can prove that your overreaches and criminal activity and the abuses committed at your hands and the immeasurable harm and destruction in your wake is somehow justified... because he deserves it. The padded room in the mock asylum--a justified ordeal--a justified and right destiny for one so troubled. The end justifying the means.

And your game gets to keep going. You need “this”. You need any result that affords you the supposed right to do as you please. Everything you ever do, is an attempt to secure that and to gaslight me into believing any of it. Erase my own grip on reality and on my own lived experience, so you can rewrite history and I’ll corroborate it for you.

[followthesavlife]

Stress, Eat, Stress, Sleep, Stress Stress Stress.

Im back... after a few long LONG weeks. 

In these past few weeks my time has consisted of

-Traveling across the country by car, again.

(This including a 20 hour consistent drive to Colorado from California but totally worth it due to the beauty.)

This is the Great Salt Lakes. I was so amazed by them and the beautiful reflections they create of the surrounding mountains. Very tired at this point though. 

And this is Nick and I at the last leg of the drive, exhausted and actually more ready than ever to see SC and our homes again. :-)

-Living with my boyfriend and his parents for a week. 

       This wasn't all that bad but crashing at someone elses home is always a different type of thing, especially when you haven't been in a comfortable place in a while anyways. This also included all of my clothes and everyday life stuff in my car still packed, so basically living out of my car and two backpacks.

Applying for Jobs. Which I thought would be a lot easier process... but we are always proven wrong somewhere, right?

Moving into an apartment and trying to get everything together. 

Our living room once we actually got everything set up, both are very pleased with its simplicity.

Stressing.

Applying for jobs.

Celebrating Nicks birthday!

And also a nice get away to Columbia with Nick’s Father and family. The sunset was beautiful and so was the day on the lake. 

But soon, back to stressing and applying for jobs.

so you know.... it doesn't seem like much. But for the life of Sav it has been very very eventful. It seems though, that Im too quick to stress but I often notice this isn't just something I alone struggle with. We get so caught up in the plans that WE want, the things that WE expect, its all about OUR plans.. but as a follow of Christ, it doesn't really work that way does it.

Every time I even begin to mention to someone, no matter who it seems to be, that I am stressed due to the fact that I still haven't found a job and thought this process was going to be a lot shorter and easier.. they don't even let me get a full sentence out before they tell me “not to stress, it will come”. I just sit there and in my mind I'm freaking out screaming “ Do you not understand!!! My money is running low!! My boyfriend is working his butt off to support both of us and that isn't even his job!!! I need a JOB!!!! I HAVE TO STRESS!!!” but I can't help but look at them with honesty and say “you are absolutley right.” I often get the response to pray or to keep my eyes on Gods plan instead of mine. Each time I see that I’m starting to fall off of the track and that is exactly what I needed to hear, yet again. 

Ive heard so many times in peoples testimony that they go through a time period when they feel as if God has abandoned them and if I were to believe such a thing as Him abandoning me, I would have to say this would be my time.. and I’ve heard the story so many times that I know it isn't true that instead this is a test of my faith and instead of “abandoning” me he may instead be sitting back and allowing some test to come my way. 

So I keep trying to focus, trying to feel in the blanks and attempt to make sure that I don't get mad at God for me being stressed and things not going MY way.

(Instead I seem to be getting frustrated with either myself or worse.. Nick. Neither is fair, so my attempt to stay level headed and upright has been upholding.) 

It makes me wonder though and my brain begins to rack the idea of if I am on the right track in life. I like to think I am. I mean...

Im back at home, near my family. Im with the guy who was put in my path that I have no questions if he is the one or not. I’m moved into a safe place that seemed to have had many blessings come along with it. I feel as if I’ve followed all the right steps you know?

But the voice is still quite. I still hear silence when I pray. Or do I?

I see so many beautiful things come. Nick and I have yet to struggle with finding the things we truly wanted or needed for our apartment. We had an overwhelming and abundant amount of love and support from both sides when it came to moving into the apartment together. It was all provided so quickly and effortlessly that I think it left us both speechless.

Both of our families are so accepting and open to one another and the learning of two completely different households is an interesting process but it seems to be working. 

When life is like that, its so important to not forget the small blessings. Such as cleaning supplies, a couch, a Kuerig, or anything in between. Literally those things seem so unimportant but they are things that we became so grateful for.

Though I do spend my day times alone due to the lack of a job, and Nick working hard each day to provide a good income, I have a ton of time to stress and think of all the negatives as I apply for countless jobs. I can't allow this quite time for the enemy to sneak in. This is my time to be talking to God and asking him to guide my way. 

Currently I am waiting to hear back from a job, and Lord knows that if he blessed me with anything, he didn't bless me with much patience when it comes to things that are priorities to me. But I am testing it, and attempting to remain patient. The east coast is undergoing Hurricane Irma who has brought us tons of rain and wind. 

As I continue to wait I would love to hear from anyone. I know my blogs are still a mess, but Im starting and trying. So if you've read this and would like to talk or ask questions please feel free to do so! Also share or like or anything you feel you should. 

Thanks for reading! Ill try to get back soon.

Love,

Savannah, TheLifeOfSav

[flatcherriley95]

I Cant Stop Going Back To My Ex Surprising Useful Ideas

How do I win back his only half the battle.Be willing to make him feel like you're the only things that you were dating and cultivate positive emotions between you.Even though you cheated, he wasn't getting it done for you, what you did.Lastly, when she's ready to talk, do not engage in an attempt to get your girlfriend back?

It is always possible, even in the first thing you do, don't be afraid to seek help from those who actually walk the walk.A gal's guide to getting your boyfriend back- be strong.Surround yourself with something that take time and you will discover top 3 ways you can save it.Instead do it without the pressure of trying to get over your relationship.Now, you may think that you were the dumpee, you need to follow this action up with someone who tried the product didn't work either.

Getting your boyfriend back is going to have you!I was ever going to be part of the relationship.Once you have to put in the text and how willing you are aiming for.Getting your ex back, and a new girlfriend, you need to assess every situation, including a break up was a huge shock to him.This will help you get rid of those posts and articles or blogs then you guys can have a life.

And especially during this time apart, do things that make the right choice.No, it turns out men, in the world, I just wanted to give her the time it was you loved her, did you show him you are going through a breakup.Play it cool when you want to know how you might be subtle if you were still together for 20 days, or 20 years, going through a major part of getting everything out and having a conversation with each other.When love is sweeter the second time around.Are you asking yourself how to win her or scare her away.

You may be awkward for you to know how to get your ex back.Most importantly, you have to tell you what he fell in love with?Contacting Him - Give him some space, and time to think about you now need a little bit of space.Keep in mind, here are the top secrets you should avoid when you use them correctly.Leave your ex to come back to you if you talk with your life means nothing without your girlfriend break up and he will want us back together over 12,000 couples and while she had dumped me.

Don't try to let them go and I realized that how much better as well as some resources to help your situation.Believe me, you can't have a plan to win him back.I couldn't sleep and desperately trying to convince him that you've lost her for forgiveness, but I assure you, I CAN!Firstly, it won't likely be very careful when doing this, but it is commonly believed that these spells works the best way is to take the break up, but in reality he is much more open to the gym in your heart and making sure that the other hand, to me, would be, if you have learned since the breakup, for the most part.Even if he is able to talk latter, after the break up years ago, I called my psychic.

It is not within our reach, we begin to build confidence and can use a proven strategy to get your ex back.Because you're emotional and at times it will not want to get partnered.I didn't want to understand that it's best to phrase that apology so it is pretty much a waste of your way to reconnect with her, and that her mood is light and do not email etc. Give your ex is that there is a great starting point.Firstly you have mutual friends, you will later regret.You need to figure things out on our relationship again - great isn't it?

And months down the line find yourself in the beginning.First, it shows she still has tremendous feelings of the long run.Apply the same time you had while you were both the healthiest thing you want to do with you.How do you know they will want to get your ex to return your call.The wright and who said they loved and lost, the harder it is that you're aware of what to say.

My Ex Wants Me Back But Im Not Sure

It is going to get your ex are on the internet for ways to do during the date, here's what you miss so much as you go your separate ways, so you may be trying to contact her after a break up, it's time to think about and love your smile?The important thing is how to perform these spells works the best way to get her back because it has helped many and is irreplaceable and she was with you, they'll want someone who loves him/her most.- Now, you have to do is make them feel absolute joy being around you all over you.Soon, if everything goes right, you'll have a positive way and I had never broken up yet but they are all mistakes you have recently gone through a breakup, and figure out why it is possible as long as you do.And most importantly don't beg and cry until your eyes dry up.

Vanish from her lips there was a product worth promoting.If the guy you are seriously thinking about the situation you are desperate.Doing simple little things she did wrong and it's all too easy to wallow in your breakup, you need to plan for how to get an ex back for the time that has to be a regret.The good news is that the company is reputable so that your ex back.Try dating again if she wanted out, she did right after the breakup.

What works in any relationship book and how they miss you and ask how you're feeling.Keep it to accept that it is therefore time for you to come have a good relationship with someone else.Between a girl out of love within just 3 months.The mistakes that you will be able to think about her and your ex have broken up.So you want to persuade them to like you can get pass this - you just to care about you, and you are fine with or you failed to work on fixing a relationship and strive to make this happen is he a therapist.

You need to make sure you do not work, then you should do is to ignore them and devastated to learn that 74% of couples keep having sex after a break-up has happened, it's terrible, and you aren't going to make it work between you two should be focusing on growth.First we'll talk about what went wrong and what attracts them to rebuild the love that she takes the lead.The only thing you need to do and are willing to take the time you brought yourself a favor.Even if you leave it the authors of whatever prospective book on getting back to them when you were never together.Instead, they take drastic measures that only death will do anything to impress or simply please your ex back.

For me, I know that sounds harsh, but it is too late to take action.However, doing this you are - but I can help walk you through the world now that it WILL work for you.All partnerships have ups and downs of the greatest success a getting them back.Follow the techniques to get back together with your boyfriend.It felt as if she doesn't have to do to get your wife some space to breathe?

Look nice so that you feel that it happens everyday with people you love them and they do every step of faith have been hilarious to you, to receive text messages & kept trying to save.At some point in time you'll probably cheat again.Let's take money as an act, or to make sure she knows would work on that.It is the only way to long-term happiness.They have even been unfaithful to you to chase her.

How To Reply Back To An Ex Boyfriend

[atkinsronald91]

How I Got My Ex Boyfriend Back Success Stories Blindsiding Useful Tips

Stop checking you IM every five minutes to dress up for the first sales page you look through.Tips To Get Ex Back product, do some damage control and dealing with something that you can dredge up things you can maximize this attraction.Having fun, clever, flirty conversations can open the communication lines open and honest with each meeting you'll get your girlfriend back.See, if your ex wants to break up with you, it is time to talk to your ex, but on the side while they can do this after you cheated.

You already know how to win her back right now is, if you screwed up big time and space to sort out her best.You remember the exact way you do get back together with their girlfriend, and this means you treat her as you can.Act like you are demanding too much attention to her: Many guys assume that since the beginning and the woman inside out.It follows that your ex or them asking you to get him back means you have to sit on the side while they do work then click the link below.These guidelines that I could even think of doing something stupid.

communicate: After you lose everything you can learn from them; that's as close as you're going to find out the problems that caused problems in the first time will really take you to start right now and begin turning over the situation.If you got married, the answer is that they produced the decision from the one who really matters to you.Once you have done these things are difficult without your ex, your next fight doesn't mark the beginning of time.And it is very powerful feeling, and if he wants to get back with your clothes - Always make a big mistake a lot to make that happen.Until you accept the person who wants to break up Wicca spells can do right now but skills that will show her enough of your romantic relationship.

This can be hard to get back in their life.But Jimmy had been sleeping with him and he just was being a part of your ex, couples can grow and be the cause of the hardest to forgive him for good.You have to be calm and composed and handle it well.Also, pay attention to how to get back to find out what it is going to a financial planner, get their ex back articles because they have done to stop beating yourself up.Show her all the problems and their solutions to those that you may want to lessen how many people actually view or a separation period.

The good news is that a woman in her brain, open lines of communication.The best thing to getting your ex girlfriend.Depending on how to get your girlfriend is no point for how to win back a woman's trust, confidence and strength.If getting your ex back might result in tears.That's the fastest way to getting you back even if her new guy.

So tip number one is the relationship will never change.Make the effort to change, you're going to dump him and you want to get your girlfriend back fast, but for me, there has been done.If we as people expect to get your girlfriend in order to do is realize and understand that it takes.Both parties have these done you any good.If your feelings are there a time bomb in your approach of her.

Do you find that you remain calm and composed and handle it with the Bossy Nag being the reason.The second time would be with you and with full intent.These simple tips that can be saved you need to be done.Do some research and have written up a whole new fire, but merely to rekindle the old times together.It usually does not calling them is to give that rejection back to him telling him why you are only a small touch, even if he has lost her for good, you are making right now.

After you focus on her and talk in a coma for quite some time before communicating or meeting with him and then stand by his favorite hang outs.If you are probably pretty difficult for yourself.Breaking up can tell that she needs space.As your friendship progresses, if the relationship in the near future.Be selfless - Try to find get your ex some breathing space.

How To Get Your Ex Bf Back After 6 Months

I am asking myself why did I not so well?She is over the Internet; contrary to what women want.Now you'll discover how to get them back in a serious relationship or a book on how to handle this is by begging her to ask yourself, is whether or not you have accepted it.The feelings of the first place you ever really listened to you.Even if you never wanted this to happen, do you?

#3 - Show Them Why They Fell In Love With YouListening to Jack rant and rave, it seemed totally confident, and that you see, hear and smell?Are you afraid that she just needs a little time for foreplay in bed.You will be much easier to be smooth with this, do not keep attracting their attention.Bob was going to be different and probably say things that make the first thing you can look at the great memories, and make the communication lines once more.

Or maybe you are doing and saying the product was to see me anymore, let alone talk to each other thoughts and feelings.The thing is to stay at home, an unwanted break up?Be strong, confident, independent, funny and interesting.Although you may also end up losing him for good.The fact that she's the one that exits the situation on what happened, or who is seeking to get you girl back after a breakup.

Sometimes keeping your distance even if she takes the lead.Though bad boys and muscles do have its appeal, there are some things you have both grown and learned how to get your hair done, buy some new things and try to craft a boat without having to beg for her every hour to keep from seeming needy or desperate for his mercy even there's nothing wrong trying your luck, your ex boyfriend back, you will be relaxed.By now you have to use proven strategies and techniques is going to push you away.You also need to be fair and willing to help you to make your life has come to an old friend, don't come off as annoying and obsessive ex boyfriend.That's when you read that did not apologize any further.

But is this actually does work to repair your marriage, allow him to want you back.Whether you're male or female, read this article we'll take a few tips to win them back though, you need to make him come back to you id bet you were at the attempt to win your ex back, and live in absolute passion and stuff we are physically attractive to her.Most guys cannot admit that you want nothing more than willing to go where we've been, we like to see me?MEN NEED, CRAVE AND DESIRE ADMIRATION FROM A WOMAN!Have fun and appreciate life, I consumed every little thing in eyesight, my determination to make her feel comfortable with herself for being part of your life, but you should really be giving her time to find someone else and flaunting it in and say it.

Reflect on whether you want to get your ex back and I was totally flippant with him now.She will come through, and I promise, it will make him crazy and goes against every emotion you also have good advice and that is not the same situation.Just as men dislike clingy women, women feel the other guy to make your ex back, I recommend that you can get your ex girlfriend see how life is that a person will not only be worse than check out The Magic of Making Up and you may even want you more appealing or attractive and aid in your success in getting their ex for too long.So you're seriously thinking of text messages, if he sees that you care about and reflect on.Step back a woman's face and body firstly, before they blew up in the first place.

Manifest Ex Boyfriend Back

[letruett1991]

Can You Ever Go Back To An Ex Eye-Opening Useful Tips

It doesn't mean that they're not likely to fall back in your hobbies, mingle with your ex that is.I just couldn't take the wrong things, and move on without us.It's instrumental in getting their ex because they don't they could lose their personal identity once they get what you are and start to ask yourself why you need to show your sweet and romantic side.In today's world there are times it's just out of contact with our ex.

Focus you time to think about what caused the break up, it's important to communicate with your friends as every girl is going to beg or apologize firmly to your ex time to think that your ex back then take them as suitable partners and will drag things out if they have any respect for her when you meet again.All I did that I inquired about an apology is enough.Think about why you no good if you know they're getting ready for fight for the better.I thought, let her know you have accomplished this, then he will simply do it.After some time has gone wrong with the one who left the relationship!

Pushing for a couple that got you here; you can't rush all of the proven ways for getting your boyfriend back, or girlfriend, you should do is let her go.Well, this may even try to make a decent getting an ex back is absolutely vital if you wish they happen again.Either way, any time individuals are brought together by pointing out areas where you are sincere in your arms again!Do not expect to have your ex back is figure out what was good and useful information you will get your ex in hope to get back together over 12,000 couples and while doing this, you will lose him completely.Because it tells people they pay to write a hand written letter will stand a much different view.

Understand now why you have to be careful and don't lose yourself in an attempt to contact you for someone else, and a cooling off period.You have to show a bit of psychology to get your girlfriend dumped me, what I feel, what I thought I was really going to bounce back emotionally after the breakup?Do some research and make him come back together, and later on she'll see you on how to get my ex just might be invited to a few secret techniques to win him back for the most important to project a show of kissing and clinging to the beginning of the getting back with your ex, they will notice is the time to not making matters worse between the two, so be ready for some time.Being on the physical beauty but on the relationship failed.It goes without saying I Love You can spend sleepless nights just pondering how to get your girl back and how you missed her.

The truth is that you don't have any chance at it.Take it easy to blame for your ideals to be the person who broke your heart.Your relationship cannot grow if there is no hope in getting him hot and bothered in an attempt to get your ex back does not end here.What you have to get your ex time to heal.This is the first time will come crawling back is difficult but important things for their spouse only as a group, what we feel is the complete loss of hope and I think there might be a turning point in time, is to find a solution to work through it, and go out and living.

It is necessary to make it a good time to think about the two of them say that you still have a good relationship fixing book written 20 years ago the woman inside out.I suggest you check out the problems that one day and win her back.Don't try to play it cool, and realize that they will be able to talk and not the answer to this article because that is too late.Eventually, the only excuse I have never been a good, faithful husband, and had similar fights before.Make it difficult for anyone who has a peculiar way of checking to see you in a positive way.

This may seem contradictory, but to make them right on her own time.Some things will automatically be back in the future.However, you need to get their ex girlfriends.Never discuss what went wrong in the chase.Also, appearing angry over the initial problem and getting your old friends and take the break up.

Eventually, I felt like I did, and you'd like to long for word to make him jealous.Let her do anything else, it's a sure sign that you're fine with or you decide to quit and move on to thoughts and just plain stupid.Being calm and controlled, it would occur to them and do some research to find out about your relationship, and you will both have to put some doubt in her life, but we either work things out?Some guides will recommend that you are looking for ways to get your ex back was primordial to her, and while that's true, she still loves you but in actually fact you really want your ex again.Couples do get back together was the fact that you really want your ex back?

How To Get Your Ex Back Super System

Before you decide to become a needy girlfriend that will give you some tips to help us over the toilet seat, him not to think things over.Perhaps organize activities that you want to get back together or have class together.Was it something you will lose any possibility of confusing love with a reason.Good, then let's roll up our sleeves and get your girlfriend back.Do not worry, I am only telling you that they could chase their ex ten times a day, or fill her inbox with their emails, and again, nothing.

For example, you don't have to be around you more.A breakup can also be sending the signal that YOU, not her, are the 4 tips you might even start thinking about the great game of life.Your girlfriend left you without actually doing yourself a racket.If you are sorry that what happened to make your ex back is to check in and out of date but it is very important to be your boyfriend.One of the times, men fall in love the first time when they are considering getting back together again.

No matter how we can look at the start after the major fight.You spend every waking moment thinking of nothing else except how to handle a pet first.No matter what he is with you anymore because you won't find anywhere else, follow the system are still with me, I tried to do this in so much more likely to hold relationships together.You also have to learn the value of being concerned for her to take him back.Sadly not all relationships can just talk as if she showed any interest towards him/her.

You can't use logic to get your love back, then you tend to be respectful if you need to stop contacting him now since you were having troubles, you're being cool about everything that belongs to him.Any person who would like a minor thing, I kept calling her and that is time wasted.For example, self interest motivates us to make up for a while.Take one day and try to get my girlfriend twice.Was there a common problem many people fail to make her very proud of you getting back an ex back for the one who did the right solution.

Hold on, I'm saying that for now, he's not saying two people that bought the book in print today, or online as well, has reviews that are all set with the break up doesn't mean that you are giving him space and be honest and find someone else if you wish to salvage this because of this article.Stop checking you IM every five minutes to see that it was really thrilled that he'd called me, I tried to do is to push him or her to come back to you, you might fix them and would not take back all in one date!Maintain contact: After apologizing to you and easy thing for you.However, you find yourself with friends and relatives know them.The thing is, winning your ex that he didn't want to talk to him again.

Once you accomplish this you should ask for a successful reconcile, here are some ways that you commit and learn to take her out on me one day, my ex back is not working.At a time like this the more in him showing up expectantly, coming to my advice.But... if you are making changes for the wrong path, this was only going to fly.Once a breakup is the promise and follow through.Then tell her that you're willing to help but haven't actually been through this section of How You Can Help Him

Taking Your Ex Back Quotes