#fingers crossed that it does with a weird schedule like mine lol

[saltymongoose]

OMG!!! So glad you're back! Any updates on the discord server? No pressure, but it would be cool to have a community to post fanart in and stuff!! ^^

Ayy, thanks Anon, and yes, I do have updates! :) The only things I have left to do with the server are:

Post the rules to an official chat (they're already written).

Test it to see if the verification form works properly, along with the roles.

(Less important) Design a better icon for it than the placeholder sketch I'm using right now.

I believe it should be opening next Saturday or Sunday, if everything goes as planned. 👍

[jothebakuho]

Hiii!! so first off,, how are you? hope ur doin good :)) do you have any little headcanons for yozora and baku that u just have in ur head? like how in the fic baku brushes her hair and has all these charts for her eating/sleeping schedule and stuff,, anything fluffy or whatever (not fluffy is cool too lol) it's cool if u don't of course! mainly just wanted to say hi cause i think ur cool and i just love ur fic so much

Omg hi! I'm doing not so Hot because studies + life is killing my back. But p good overall! How are you? :D hope everything is fine and dandy~

And, so many headcanons I have for these two gosh.

Where to start? Lemme just go with what you mentioned! (hint: they're ALL fluffy)

~ Bakugou has a Thing for the brat's hair and cheeks. I literally mention this somewhere but I do not know, I do not know where (it's 53k and ongoing ffs).

He likes ruffling her bangs and brushing through the softness and it reminds him of the first day, how mangled it was and the contrast is just Peace to him. it's so bright orange and sunny now! So ~ healthy

He uses his fingers like a comb or just tousles her bangs to be Annoying. Unfortunately, Yozora doesn't care much about appearances, but then Bakugou does so he straightens it out himself.

She Knows Bakugou's touch v well by now. Her hair smells like a mix of caramel and blueberry shampoo bc of How Much he plays with her hair.

Her cheeks- he tried avoiding. He always wanted to Poke and Squish and if you go to the first chapter, you'll see how weirded out he was. That was me showing you guys, he thinks the brat is Cute, and it. freaks. him. out.

He takes a deep breath and surveys the girl again. A few wisps of orange hair fall over her eyelids and Bakugou is suddenly struck by an odd urge to poke Yozora's exposed cheek.

He shakes it off with a bewildered stare and crosses his arms.

- Chapter 1

Now, that he's admitted it, he can't really stop. And p soon, we will see just how soft he is for her cute face ;-;

So, subtle reasoning for the cheeks love is: Yozora is a bit bony because of her life and current disorders, right? And kids are usually soft looking but Yozora is not. So, her cheeks are like the only parts that are somewhat plump- in Bakugou words that would be 'The only fat she's got in her.'

Once he gets into cheek kisses, it's over for us.

With his index, he pokes her bony cheek.

But it's softer than he'd expected.

- Chapter 3

~The charts, he updates before sleeping every night and during meals. He plans out her weekly meals in advance. He kind of has to, bc of how overloaded he is, he needs to seriously schedule his life. That's the only way he has been stringing on being a Pseudo mama bear and hero-in-training. He categorizes by food groups, and decides what vitamins/supplements he's gonna put in that way. For e. g., he plans to feed her X and Y, so she's gonna need Vitamin D more, let's say. So, he'll slip that into her drinks. He was originally aided by Dr. Akio but now he has a good handle on it. He is actually the one who understands it best at this point. The sleep ones are basically how long and how deep she sleeps each day, and if she's doing it longer/at night. You'll see in the next chapter how well Bakugou Knows. Those charts are viewable by Aizawa and Dr. Akio so, they stay updated about Yozora's progress as well.

And it's all super meticulous. Think pie charts, histograms, graphs and colour coding. The class was shook because it looks like he freaking data mined on Yozora.

Bonus hc:

~Bakugou is big on being Gentle with any injuries Yozora gets (for e.g. hair getting stuck on a knot) because he wants to show her it ain't normal to hold it in, but Yozora doesn't understand. She doesn't because pain like that is stuff she has learned to internalise a long time ago. So, it's confusing to her. And she doesn't get why her heart is always warm when he does that. :((((

And eeeee, thanks for loving it! Every time someone says that my heart goes POOF :v

OYEE! Man, I also think you are so Cool <3 You can say hi or come chat any time :D And, I think it's amaze that you do drawings, too :o

[lavendersoft]

Until I met you.

3/?

-Street Fighter! Jimin x Reader

Synopsis: While on a date for their 2nd anniversary, Jimin loses Yoongi while being attacked in an alleyway by a robber. Yoongi sacrificed himself for his lover and Jimin could never forgive himself for not being able to do the same. The survivor’s guilt ate away at him over the months and it definitely didn’t help that he saw Yoongi’s face everywhere. In mirrors, dreams, large crowds, on trains, and even when he closed his eyes. Although, Jimin found a way to cope. He began a rigorous training schedule. Boxing, self-defense classes, Tae Kwon Do, he even started street fighting and got caught up with bad people. Anything and everything. His hands would bleed, his muscles would ache, his bones would break. Jimin was offered multiple full scholarships to prestigious martial arts schools for his talent, all of which Jimin turned down. He didn’t want to make a career out of this, he just didn’t want to be haunted by his dead fiancé. The only time Yoongi wouldn’t haunt every moment of Jimin’s life was when he’s training as if Yoongi is saying “I won’t rest, nor will I let you rest until you’re stronger.” Jimin will never lose anyone that he loves again.

Everything felt like a downward spiral,

until he met you.

Warnings: (There’s a lot- and it’s kinda dark, be warned) PTSD, implied schizophrenia (sorta? take that with a grain of salt), PTSD induced delusions/hallucinations, depression, paranoia, night terrors, character death, major angst, unhealthy coping mechanisms, masochism(?), alcoholism, minor gore, mention of drug abuse, mention of blood, mention of sexual assault/ harassment, mention of asylums, profanity, Jimin goes through one hell of a mental breakdown.

Author’s notes: lil fluffy :)

Jimin doesn’t visit Yoongi’s grave.

He hasn’t in a while, at least. He has seen Yoongi far too often since his death, actually. And he decided long ago that visiting graves only bring him grief and sorrow, not solace like most people.

Something was different this morning; off. Yoongi wasn't lurking. He wasn't staring at Jimin in the shadows or murmuring in Jimin’s ear. He’s just... gone.

But that doesn't stop Jimin from drinking his guilt away like he usually does. If he's being honest with himself, Jimin probably wouldn't be able to cope without his daily dose of alcohol.

He could just picture Hoseok and Jin laughing at him if they were here. They were always the big drinkers of the group. Jimin hardly drank and when he did, he’d get drunk faster than the rest. The memory brings Jimin no joy, knowing what came of everyone. In fact, he’d rather not remember.

The useless alarm clock rings beside Jimin’s bed. The machine never gets the chance to actually wake him up since he’s awake before dawn every morning due to the nightmares.

Hm. Maybe I should call Dr. Bang?

As he reaches over to dial his therapist’s number, her name pops up instead.

Y/n: I had a lot of fun last night, minus the weird guy in the alley lol

Jimin wonders how she could dilute such a pig to just a “weird guy” but he decided not to bring it up.

Jimin: me too. 

Send.

What? That’s it? Come on.

Jimin: um so if you ever want to do-

Delete.

Jimin: cool. so do u wanna see a-

Delete.

Flirting is a lot harder than Jimin remembers. He sighs heavily and tosses his phone down, opting to shower away his self-frustration. Right when he starts rinsing and lathering, however, an idea lights up his mind.

Of course.

A few hours later he is standing outside of his old dance studio, the one he’d go frequently with Yoongi on their days off work.

He hasn’t been here in months. Nevertheless, this place hasn't changed a bit. This place was their own little private piece of paradise. It was a cozy, secluded building on the outskirts of the city, but it had the best view at any time of day. Jimin had the best memories here. Memories of his whole friend group coming and visiting him while he danced. Hoseok always had the best advice for him and they’d end up dancing together. 

Jimin stares at the oak door, then glances at the key in his hand. He contemplates if he is even ready to be back in there. But she’s going to be here soon. He’d asked her if she wanted to use his old studio to practice dancing and had given her the address. So, he bites his lip and turns the knob.

The angelic light that flows in from the window is the first thing he notices when he walks in. The room looks so much more spacious than he remembers, probably because he was never in here alone. The huge, wall-length mirror expands further than he remembered. You’d think that he’d still remember every detail of this room, being that he was here close to every day. But he doesn't. These last nine months have hurt more than his heart. I can’t remember worth a damn nowadays.

He closes his eyes and stands in the middle of the room, soaking in the sunlight, breathing in the familiar smell of the walls and floor. This building always had such a distinct smell. You’d probably call him crazy if he said he could just faintly hear the laughter that always filled this place. There was never a bad situation that happened here. It was untainted with the strife and stress of their daily lives. All of their struggles and grievances, they were dropped at the door.

They came here to forget. They came here because it was their haven. A pure haven. 

And now he’s sharing it with you.

Also, he thinks it could use a good dusting. So, he gets to work.

But he’s soon interrupted by one of those endlessly annoying, nagging thoughts that pop into his head as he sprays down the mirror with Windex.

I’m expecting too much. I don’t even know her. She doesn’t even know me. And I’m letting her into my most sacred place. It’s just too fast. It’s gonna scare her. 

He lifts his gaze and stares at himself in the foggy mirror for the first time in ages.

As if I could scare her any more than I have. I’ve practically beat the life out of a man on our first date. 

But she’s still coming. She’s still coming.

He tears his eyes away from the man lingering in front of him to get back to work.

After an hour of dusting, scrubbing, and polishing, the studio looked exactly how he left it the last time. Then, a knock at the door startles him. He’s not used to anyone knocking on the studio door, it was always open to his friends.

He jogs overhastily to let her in.

The moment the door reveals her, her eyes light up in awe.

“Wow! It’s huge!” She blushes when she realizes she hasn't even greeted him yet. 

��Uh, I mean good morning.” She scratches her head awkwardly. 

“Morning.” His reply seems bland compared to all the work he’d just put into cleaning the place up as to not embarrass himself... and possibly impress her. He’d never admit that, though.

“It’s so much bigger than the one I practice in! And it has natural light!” She saunters over the window, pulling open the curtain entirely. She freezes.

“Mine doesn't even have windows! And yours has-”

“Cool, huh?” He chuckles. She really is cute.

“A full view of the city? It’s more than cool, it’s like a dancers dream!”

It was. Once.

“So, do you like.. own it?” She asks the question as if it would offend him in some way.

“Sort of.”

It was Yoongi’s first gift to Jimin, before they’d even started dating. It was by far the greatest gift he’d ever received.

“I co-own it.”

“Ah.” She nods, dropping the subject entirely. “Oh, hey, a radio!”

She’s so enthusiastic about everything. Jimin smirks.

“Yeah. I’m not sure if it still work-” He cut off by a stream of soft music filling the room. He remembers this song well. It’s the last song he’d been listening to that night, before-

“Oh, I love this song.” She looks over her shoulder with a look that almost resembled mischief. “Wanna dance..?”

“Oh... uh.. I don’t know. I’m probably kind of rusty.”

“Please?” Oh, this could get dangerous. It’s really hard to say no to her.

“Okay, but don't laugh.”

“Promise.” She holds out her pinky finger, waiting for him to lock his with her own. He does so, gladly.

Take my hand.

She places her hand in his. He wraps his hand lightly around her waist.

Take my whole life, too.

They fumble a bit, awkwardly stepping on each other’s toes as if they weren't both trained professionals.

For I can't help falling in love with you.

She finds her balance, he finds his rhythm.

Like a river flows, surely to the sea. Darling, so it goes-

They glide over the dance floor like water.

Some things are meant to be.

The chorus repeats once more. He looks into her eyes now, instead of at his feet. She has a smile on her face that says she hasn't a care in the world at the moment.

I can't help falling in love with you...

The music fades and Jimin curses the song for starting in the middle instead of the beginning. He wants longer with her.

The next song starts and it’s a more upbeat one. One he made a choreography to. He’s almost tempted to show her before-

She already dancing. The exact same dance he created. He stands in shock. Every move, every step, everything is smooth and right on beat.  But how did she know?

He struggles to find the words to ask. Instead, he slowly starts to dance along with her. The look of confusion that crosses her face when she glances in the mirror and spots him following along with her perfectly is priceless. She falters for just a brief seconds before turning around and facing him, still hitting each beat. 

He smirks at her when the song finishes, she at a loss for words.

“How did you..? Where did you learn that?”

“Learn? I didn't learn it. I created it.” A stark silence enters the room.

“I’m sorry, what?” She’s obviously having a hard time processing.

“I made it.”

“But.. my dance teacher said it was made by some prodigy, like, years ago.”

He holds up his index finger, gesturing to himself. “That’d be me.”

“Stop playing with me. There’s no way... I mean-”

And so the afternoon went on. They discussed their dreams, their hopes, where they came from, favorite places to visit. 

Somewhere in between talking about her family home, she offered to order take out. He obliged and paid before she could oppose it. He felt terrible that they didn't have a proper place to eat- not even chairs. He’d pulled out an old blanket from the storage closet and made a makeshift picnic. He’d hoped to God that she didn't notice the faint musty odor from being in storage for so long. If she did, she didn't say anything.

 When they continued to talk, they even found out that they attended the same dance school when they were both beginners, not at the same time though. He has started dance much sooner in life than she.

He was called a prodigy, or so everyone told him. He was meant to be something. Something bigger than what he turned into.

“Hey. Wanna see something cool?” He asks when he notices the light in the room beginning to turn a deep gold, indicating the sun was setting. The really talked all day, huh?

“Always.”

He takes her hand and leads her into the hallway, all the way to end. They reach a door and he reaches up the top of the door frame to search for the key. After successfully unlocking it, the door opened to reveal an old, and he will admit, slightly sketching looking staircase. To his surprise, she enters without fear. She barely even waits for him.

Once they reach the top he opens the door and then stands out of her way, not wanting to block to the view. And he also wanted to make sure he could see her reaction.

There’s a silence that falls between them as she takes in the view of the city. Jimin inwardly praises himself for knowing all the best times of day to come to the roof, 6:22 pm sharp is one of those times. The world around them glows with golden, orange, and red light. The sun looks as if it’s searing the city, completely ablaze.

“Wow.” She takes in the sight of the tall shadows belonging to the buildings and trees as they grow even longer. 

Wise men say only fools rush in.

[sassaetcie]

Silver x Idia (The Molten Charcoal) chapter 6

I genuinely do not know how to schedule what’s going on in my brain, especially since that fic has been over for a while

-I'm sorry, I don't really understand what you said. Though... I know I don't find it awful to hear.

This was one of the numerous neutral ends to be expected for sure. He was too nice to tear my heart apart, and yet not in love. I was probably... lucky in a sense. How could this prince made of alabaster, no, dragging himself, no... climbing a mount of alabaster he had forged by himself... How could he even look at me without being shaken by disgust? I should have swooned for even being looked at and not mocked... No! No... I don't deserve something bad because of them... As long as I... I'm sorry Ortho... Why am I the one living? Why aren't you the one who has lived on... You always have been so lively and outgoing... I'm just... I've always have been like this but... your death made me understood that I wasn't just introvert as fuck... I just hurt everyone no matter what I do...

-That being said... I don't really understand feelings, especially stronger ones like the one you seemed to describe. You really made a line on each of my feature, didn't you? That's praise-worthy. I would like to understand them... with you by my side. We are both lost, this should be easier if one of us suddenly understand. Of course, this only works if you agree with my proposition... I hope I am not being harsh. I don't intend on hurting you.

-H-huh? Does t-t-t-t-t-hat mean you... w-w-want us to meet again? Later? Again?

-Yes, I want us to meet again. I hope I will not fall asleep before, though.

-Oo-o-oh, speaking of this... We may l-look for an... antidote? For your... huh... sleeping troubles... O-only if you want me to h-h-h-help, of course! I would understand if you feel like I'm pitiying you, but I s-s-swear I'm not, I really just want to help even if it's probably some means to only satisfy myself, I'm...

-...It is true that I never truly saw you help other people. That makes me even more curious. Hmm, I will just need some time when Old... Lilia Vanrouge and Sebek are available to watch over Mal... Draconia. I cannot let my guard down, after all. I know nothing happened yet but... It could, probably.

-O-o-o-okay, p-please tell me whenever you a-are ready to s-s-s-s-see me again, t-t-t-hen... You can tell Ortho for sure... I think?

I made sure one ending was pushed away by another strategy. Of course, I shoud stop thinking of this as a endings-crossroad but... My... love for Silver is different, without a doubt. Not especially better, or worse. It's just... not something I can explain with... love. Do I deserve to call this... love, anyway? I could just lack affection to this point or want to make a reality ouf ot fiction. But I need to dream too. If I don't, I'll be... like them, once again. Yet... if I... need to dream and don't dream on my own, I am lying too. But was this "love" invented by adults or non-adults, anyway?

-I see. Thanks for this... date. It was interesting, and I am... glad, I think. That you talked to me with such expressiveness. I wish I could thank my Old Man the way you told me all of these things.

-H-hm... I will n-n-n-n-n-need to first update Ortho's memory... But... we can... maybe? Meet again... Like... huh...

-Well, not during my timetable for sure. I cannot afford to ashame the family, all this stuff... even if I think I really should not. My Old Man is a kind man and I don't want to betray him.

-O-oo-okay... wh-hen do you t-t-think you'll be free... then?

He could have run away using this option. He was the one handling them between these perfect phalanx born from the sea. ...He wasn't the only one, of course. Luck... Luck? Did luck exist to this point... Azul certainly did beat up luck itself. I guess luck is some kind of laziness from myself, lol... Probably only for and from myself... Luck would be reflected differently in this water I see only blue and grey, I guess.

-Hmm... I'll tell you when I am sure my timetable will not change.

Or did he take another ending? Telling one lie to say the truth right after, or the other way round... He could tell two lies, or tell the truth forever. But... doubting him was already a stupid thing to do, actually. I mean, why should I have doubt him? If he didn't like me.. Fine by me... That was what I expected in most cases anyway. But if he didn't tell me he actually couldn't stand me? Then, it was... probably alright. I didn't need to doubt him that much, did I? Or that would mean betraying myself again. Yeah... boring af.

-O-okay! I... huh... hope you'll have a good day...

I can't remember if I really wished from all of my body, from top to toe... Or if it was some formal greeting I tried on him. I guess I wanted him to be happy nonetheless yet did I feel it this way? I can't remember. No feeling has shaken me neither my heart nor my brain. So, was it a kind lie of some kind, or some strange truth? I cannot recall. Or is there anything to be recalled, anyway? Perhaps I cannot reminisce because it never happened in the first place. His icy hair floated outside the shadow, and didn't melt, yeah. His hands of soft mid-water went away with him. His eyes of ocean, he brought them away as well. Or perhaps was he a sailor of some other world in the end? Surely most people were fusing along this ocean and stars, but he wasn't. So was I... somewhere else but some kind of... sailor as well? This sea of feelings was one my eyes I couldn't set on. Or was he... Sure, I wanted to ride over this space of water. See my reflection... my reflection. Maybe seeing this hair... wet. All of these flames, engulfed in some bubbles I couldn't touch... yet? I remembered trying to gather my limbs when Silver was nowhere to be seen. I guess I didn't collapse because no one was there as well... Or at least, my eyes didn't catch anyone as I was getting away from the tree restored to its original role. Apple trees only. No apple was on the ground, or yet at least. None of the red shining was separated from the green shining. They were together... Happy together, right? Somehow. Well, more like because apples were not ripe yet but. As soon at this apple was on its own, it would... live a few days. And rot away. They were... happy together. Unhappy separated. Would I...? Since I was unhappy of... this hair which never had been mine... Could I be... blessed with happiness, visited by happiness, granted happiness, if I were to cut off this blazing "blood"? I... just slept again, once I was back in the heat.

[Started Recording at : 1PM : Eighth ? Day]

-Big Bro! Big Bro! Please open the door, I have some really good news!

-Huuuh? What the... O-o-o-o—ortHO? Did something bad happen but you try to see it as good?!

-No, no, I really mean it! It's a... good piece of news!

-T-Then you can say... it t-t-through the door, right? I'm in the middle of something and I

-You're not! You usually let me open the door even if you're in the middle of a game, don't you? :(

-Ehhh?!

-I'm going in!

The door was not invaded by Hell, no matter what Hell was. No stains invaded the black and white limbs made of illusory obsidian. A superficial obsidian, yet made out of idealism. Five fingers touched the door, even if it could very likely open up by a presence. Nothing burned the prosthesis. Blue and purple lights crossed each other between figures and mangas piled up, whether by chronological order, graphic preferences and reflections, randomness or significance. Yet only these two lights, as full of shades as they are, shared no more shades. A ridiculous prairie-green, a small yellow-sun, a azure-sky, lights... were not used, yet, probably. The heatwave's spirit was sitting on a bed, chained up by his unfortunate owner. The Ignihyde bed was being sat on. The blanket was barely away between the ten asynchronous fingers.

-Were you sleeping, Big Bro?!

-... Y-yeah... I tried to... I was kind... of... exhausted... and my head felt dizzy as fuck so I-I just...

-So that makes two good news today!!!

-I... guess s-s-so... S-s-s-so what... why did... you come here?

The little brother closed the door anyway.

-Silver told me that he was free on tomorrow!

-Huh? W-w-w-w-wait, he's already free?! I-i-I don't mean t-t-t-t-t-t-hat I don't want to see h-h—him and all! Just that... I thought he would... have been longer?

-He told me he was very curious to see you again so he tried to be free as soon as possible! He also told me he was... ahem! "Sorry if I fail to understand your feelings by being too fast when it comes to see you again".

His fingers for sure made the blanket fly some centimeters, then go back to wrapping them. Two phalanx hid before going out again, then replaced by some others. Perhaps would it end when all hands were to be outside or inside. The friction definitely did not throng through his headphone, at least the thing he could handle for sure. Wasn't he choosing which sounds were going back and forth right now? Whether he was confused, happy or sad was hard to see. Or maybe both, actually? One hand disappeared while the other aired him. His hand ventilated him, then. A tight smile pierced the frozen yet burning blue lips, covering a range of shark teeth that didn't fit all of this. He... grabbed one of his other hand.

-Are you alright... big bro? You didn't answer and now you're acting... weird, if I may say so.

-I'm... Uuuuh...! I feel stupid but... This is my hand! And this one too! They're... mine!

-Well... this is your body, so yes.

-I mean... I know! But... m-m-my hands... My mouth feels weird, but not my hands...

-And yet you're smiling, Big Bro? O-o

-I AM?!

Idia raised his arms toward the smile going out of range. Why was it acting on its own, and not his hands? He spread himself in his own fingers, fiddling with the anomaly which was truly one, among the body getting rid of these things. He was made of these hundred anomalies before. So now... there were "these" ones left. But these were only "fixed". The others would probably keep on acting on their own... Or was it supposed to? Some water escaped through two symetrical curiosities, painted blue by some inheritance as well.

-Big Bro, should I tell you that you're crying as well? Are you sure everything's okay? I can tell Silver to postpone the date if necessary... :(

-N-n-n-no! I'm... I'm alright. This is just weird to explain. I'll try to explain to him first and then I'll tell you what the fuck happened... okay? I think. Is that okay? Am I being weird, right now?!

-...Okay so I'll tell him that you're available tomorrow on 6pm?

-Y-yes... t-thanks, Ortho. Where would be the date, though?

-Near the apple tree to "begin with", as he told me.

-"To begin with"?! I... I'm scared now... But I shouldn't, right, right? It's Silver we're talking about, he probably miscommunicated... Like I usually do... 6pm by the apple tree, the one where we met... He will be alone, right, right?

-...well, yes. Why should he be accompanied, big bro?

-I-i-i-I dunno! I just was worried about stuff and... I'm just huh... That's all? I asked everything I had to ask?

-I... guess so! So I'll be off, big bro! Please call me if something goes wrong!

-Y-yes... H-huh! Wait... Did you... have... had some troubles with your memory?

Shroud coerced his hands into forming one, to escape from anxiety or hide something else. The tears were already dried, but surely he would not mind crying again if needed. But maybe not now.

-I don't think so, Big Bro! Please don't worry about me for the moment, let's be sure you end up in a healthy relationship with Silver to ensure you two a beautiful ever-after!

-Are you s

The one who desired to acquire a different type of water, who did not see water as such, put away his feet walking on the ground, flying through the doors opening themselves in the magical technology they knew so well.

-...I guess Ortho didn't want to be updated today... He w-w-w-wouldn't be lying to me, right... right.

[Ended Recording at : 1h15 PM : Eighth? Day]

I didn't really know what to do. I mean, that's obvious I didn't, right... I have one day to gather myself and know what I should expect... But what should I even expect? Will we talk again, like nothing happened? No, right, right? He told me my... hair... comforted him... or did I get him wrong? He's also having troubles to communicate... So... What if he... made a mistake? He may have meant... that the warm flames comforted him, but that the blue hue made him uncomfortable... Or he didn't want to hurt me! He's as anxious as me, maybe...? Or at least he got troubles with expressing his feelings, like me for sure. But it can be in a different way... Maybe in a "normal" way? Perhaps...? He always stated what he wanted to tell me, tho. Or did he... really like it? Does he really like it? Is he fond of it? Does he love it? Does he think it's funny, like probably most of people? Or is he...?! Is he some kind of perverse who likes stuff people usually don't...! No, that wouldn't be some kind of perverse stuff. I mean... if being different is being perverse, I need to wash my fucking brain with bleach, lol. But then... what should I expect? We can't possibly sit again under the same tree and wait for an answer, can we? So... what should I do? No, what should I tell Ortho... Wait, should I tell Ortho first so that he can warn Silver about what I want to do?! Wouldn't I be impatient and selfish, though... I don't want to impose but he may also be waiting for me to suggest something for us to do... Or does he want to know more about myself, too?! Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm... Maybe I should go with something simple, but not too simple, too?! What if... I can't really bring one of my console, huuuh... He could think I just want to listen to him as a lo-fi playlist NONONONONONO?! So games are out of place... and I don't want to bring a board game... he could think the same, even if he plays along... Suff suff suff...! No. So... Maybe... drawing with him? No, no, no way. So many people think it's something we do on our own... and we don't talk much usually, nonononono... But I could also show it to him to prove him that it's a wrong way of thinking and... isn't that twisted? I'm sorry Ortho, I'm sorry... Ain't I going back to where I shouldn't?! SuffocationsuffocationsUFFOCATIONSUFFSUFFSUFFSUFFSUFFSUFF

no no no. That's alright. He may ask me something, or may chose something on his own. I just need to be sure it's something I want to do as well, right, right? No videogames, no games, no drawing... Just speaking won't solve the problem, especially if I don't know how to start a conversation and I can't watch tutorials on Youtube, I'll just sound so phony and all... I mean... the most obvious and... normal thing to do would be to invite him to a karaoke or a thing like this? He probably doesn't sing extremely well... so I shouldn't be too ashamed, right? Well, if he does, that would be dangerous because it could endanger my whole Prince Charming's balance stuff... But if he does? That would just be so cool... Yeah... I should go for a karaoke session... But where should I bring him? I can't possibly bring him to my room... right?

I played some games (mostly RPGs lol) to see if there could a good place for a date but... I don't really want it to turn out like an absolutely planned date? A beautiful woodland, a shore where seagulls are singing peacefully, a town above water and full of falling stars... That would really sound like I'm scheming something... So... maybe my room wouldn't be that weird, actually? As long as I don't lock the door it shouldn't sound weird... If Ortho is telling... No, he's obviously telling the truth. Nobody should try to go in as long as Ortho helps me... How long will he need to help me, though... I'm... already the reason why we were separated... and yet he keeps on helping me. Is it because I made him that way? My guilt will never be enough, I know that... I should at least... go with Silver. I'll be less of a burden for him. He'll be... able to walk on his two legs like he wanted to. So... my room would be the best choice. It won't be a fake fancy place... It won't be an expensive stuff I'll do to show off... It won't a place crowded with people where I will throw up or collapse or go insane or screech or become weird or... SuffSUFFSUFFSUFFSUFF No nononono. Let's not think about this one. I guess it would prove him how courageous and all I am but... I can't do this. My Eloquence skill is far too damaged when I'm among people. So... my room would definitely, absolutely be the best choice... And I should be able to play with the speakers so that he spends a good time... Yeah. We got the best wi-fi as well. I should be able to search for lost stuff if he needs me to... Let's... tell Ortho about this. For the last time, I will tell him something that only shows how selfish I am...

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

Chapter 3 - (totally uninterested.)

I had no clue what Harry expected in terms of him and I pretending to be together. I mean, not only was it a bad idea and a huge reach, but we had enough trouble just sitting beside each other in the library.

And, let’s be real. I wasn’t stupid. I didn’t live under a rock. I’d seen all the movies and read all the stupid books that had this storyline. Pretend to date. Get feelings. Things get messy. Make up. Live happily ever after.

This wasn’t that type of thing and Harry and I certainly weren’t those types of people. I mean, my trip to the dining hall with him and Ethan was the first time we’d really spent time together outside of work. We’d bump into each other at parties or around campus, but we couldn’t even call ourselves friends. We were coworkers. That was it.

So when I walked into the library on Sunday to find him already at the desk, I immediately felt awkward and weird and altogether just filled with regret that I’d agreed to something so stupid.

I’d avoided him for the remainder of the night on Friday--he tried to say goodbye to me and Kristen when we were at the door, but I escaped unscathed by making Kristen pretend she was more drunk than she was.

So now, on Sunday night at 7:56pm (right in time for our 8pm shift), I needed to tell Harry the deal was off.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to spend time with Ethan, it wasn’t that I didn’t want him to fall in love with me, but faking any sort of anything with Harry seemed forced and exaggerated and all around overwhelming.

“Hi,” I greeted him with a hesitant smile, dropping my bag over the counter to fall onto the desk. He looked up from his phone and smiled.

“Happy Sunday,” he greeted, his next words laced with sarcasm. “Ready for a quiet night?”

Sundays had a reputation in the library to be rather unpredictable. You had some people who wanted to bunker down, get some studying in, and start the week fresh. But you also had a high likelihood of having people lose their shit, get angry at the desk staff, and stir up trouble.

We also had a lot of responsibilities going into a new week. Make sure all the returns were stacked. Go over the study room reservations and confirm with students. Double check the schedule for computer classrooms that had been reserved by professors.

Sundays were busier than any other day--which was arguably both good and bad if I intended to have a conversation with Harry about the status of our “relationship.”

Good because if things got awkward or weird we’d have enough stuff to keep us busy. Bad because I needed to actually have a serious conversation with someone who maybe, possibly didn’t have a serious bone in his body.

“Can we talk, actually?”

“Mhm,” he said absentmindedly, he kept his eyes on his phone for a second but then looked up at me and waited--apparently--for me to dive right in.

“Oh, uhm, I just--I don’t think the whole fake dating thing is a good idea actually.”

He laughed. “What? Why not? It’s just for him, I mean, don’t you think it’ll work?”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged, finally now walking around the desk to take my spot beside him. “I just, I don’t want to like, get too deep into a lie that we can’t get out of it.”

He smiled a little, surprisingly more understanding and nice than I’d ever experienced. “Nora, it’s fine. It’ll be short-term. Let’s just hang out a few times and act like a couple around him and then we’ll ‘break up,’” he put air quotes around the term.

The idea of it being short term felt more promising. I felt kind of weird though--hesitant to let myself think that maybe there was a side of Harry that I actually liked--or at least, could pretend to like. “Yeah,” I said, letting the idea sink in fully. “Okay. Just, then, we have to figure out what it means.”

“What it means?” He asked, his eyebrows scrunching together.

“Yeah, like, some guidelines and some ideas of what we’ll do and not do and--just a plan.”

He nodded. “A plan. Okay.”

I stared at him, hoping he’d get us started, but he kept his eyes on mine, wide and with a smirk pulling at his lips. “You first.”

I let out a groan. “Harry, I don’t know. You’re the one who had this stupid idea to begin with.”

“It’s not stupid,” he rolled his eyes, turning back to the computer to click around on a few tabs he had open. “You get to hang out with Ethan. I’m doing something nice for you so you keep your mouth shut about my volunteer stuff. It’s a win-win.”

He was right, for the most part. I sighed, leaned back in my chair, and put my feet up on the desk, buckling in for a wild Sunday night.

“Okay,” I said. “Don’t tell anyone else that we’re doing this. Obviously--that’s rule number one.”

“Okay. Rule number two is that you only get to come over to my apartment twice a week.” He paused and waited for me to object. “I don’t think I can stand you anymore than that.”

I rolled my eyes and pushed past his insult. “Rule three is that you can’t tell your dumb friends that we’re having sex, cause, we’re not. At all.”

“Okay,” he laughed. “Rule four is that you need to actually act like you like me.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You first.”

“Nora,” he laughed, running a hand through his long hair. “You don’t have to act like it here, but don’t bicker with me so much in front of Ethan or Ryan and them. Channel your acting skills--or at least try.”

“You’re so dramatic, I can act just fine.”

“We’ll see,” he sighed. “Rule five--”

“I get to make rule five,” I reminded him. “You just made rule four.”

He stared at me with a blank expression, exceptionally bored by my protest.

“Rule five,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest, “is that you can’t--like--get in the way of me and Ethan. You need to let me dump you as soon as it seems like he’s interested and like something will happen.”

He made some kind of face as if he were dismissing what I was saying. “Okay, fine. Rule five A is that you can’t get in the way of me hooking up with other girls. And you can’t be weird if I do. I’ll keep it on the down-low.”

“Alright, yeah, sure, whatever. Anything else?”

He brought a finger up to his lip and pulled at it gently. “Hmmm.”

“Minimal touching,” I said.

“Minimal touching?

“Mhm. Minimal.”

He let out a laugh and fought the smirk that tugged at his expression. “Minimal, you got it.”

**

Ethan might end up here tonight if you want to come over.

Can’t, grocery shopping with Kristen! Sorry!

It’s all good.

**

You’re so late. You owe me like four extra Ethan sessions this week.

Ethan sessions? He’s not an animal. No extra. Rule two.

:(

You’re blocking! That’s rule five!

Not blocking. Ryan has been at his place this week, actually. I’ll tell you if I see him.

**

You know how when you sign into the desk computer it makes that noise? I heard it in my dream last night.

We spend way too much time there

I hate that noise.

I hate everything about the library.

Even me?

Especially you.

Lol.

**

Kristen absolutely, one hundred percent, totally thought this was a bad idea. I couldn’t really blame her. I might have broken rule one by telling her about it in the first place, but I also knew that a) she wouldn’t tell anyone, and b) she wouldn’t tell Harry that I’d broken rule one. She was also my best friend--she had the right to know all of the details about my fake love life.

Harry was also ridiculously stupid if he thought that I was going to let my best friend believe that I was dating my obnoxious coworker who I regularly complained about.

Now she was sat across from me in the dining hall, taking a pause from her sandwich to enlighten me.

“I just feel like you’re getting into something that’s gonna get messy. I mean--not that it will work--”

“You don’t know that,” I reminded her, trying to keep hold of the glimmer of hope I had. It was worth a shot, right? I certainly didn’t have a better chance with Ethan if I wasn’t hanging out with Harry.

“But if it does work,” she said, her cup of soda in her hand as she thought aloud. “How are you gonna explain things to Ethan that you fake dated someone to get his attention?”

“I’m not gonna tell him that,” I said simply. “He’ll never know. It’ll be fine. Our kids will just think we met in college and fell in love. Typical.”

She let out a noise of uncertainty, but I couldn’t respond--the chair beside me was suddenly occupied by Harry. Across from him Niall sat down, next to Niall was Ryan, and next to Harry was Ethan.

Kristen locked eyes with me and made an anxious face, which I simply ignored as Harry greeted me with a smile.

“Hey babe,” he said, his words casual as he set his glass down after taking a sip of water.

“Hi, hello, what’s up?” I forced words out, hoping to God that I didn’t sound as moronic and incompetent as I did in my head.

Babe? We hadn’t even talked about pet names. Babe seemed to be pretty straight forward and not very embarrassing. He could have called me Norie like my parents would, or, worse, sweet cheeks or pumpkin or something altogether gag-worthy.

“Beautiful day is what’s up,” Niall answered. “First day all week with no rain.”

“The rain is nice sometimes,” Harry argued, “makes us appreciate the sunshine.”

“Okay--that’s got t’be the dumbest thing you’ve ever said,” Niall laughed, causing Ryan and Ethan to chuckle as well.

“Speaking of sunshine,” Ryan said, leaning forward.

“Oh, right,” Harry said, almost as if he’d forgotten something. “Have either of you seen that mini golf place right on the Potomac?”

Kristin and I shook our heads. I bit into the french fry in my hand and waited for him to continue.

“We should all go, there’s a deal where groups of five or more get half off on Fridays.”

“Yeah,” I said, nodding as I scanned the table. They all seemed to be interested, even Ethan down at the end. “That sounds great.”

“We’ll bring Alex, too,” Niall explained. “This friday. We can go over to the river and play some mini golf and grab dinner or something beforehand. Drinks too, if we want.”

Kristen shot me another look across the table--wondering if I’d told Harry yet that I still wasn’t twenty-one. Now didn’t feel like a good time.

“Yeah,” Ethan said, leaning past Harry to smile at both Kristin and I. “It’ll be a lot of fun.”

**

Mini-golf struck me as something that I normally wouldn’t be caught dead doing. I mean--I wasn’t terrible, but I definitely wasn’t any good.

The course was right next to the Potomac river, meaning a breeze blew steadily as we picked out our putters and got through the first few holes. Planes landed overhead at Reagan airport, and the sun was getting lower in the sky--Kristen wasn’t nervous about her homework (she’d worked hard in advance knowing that we had plans) and Harry even seemed to be less cranky than usual.

The whole thing--the seven of us laughing and bickering and taking turns being idiots on the course--kind of struck me as something you’d see in a stupid movie. If only there’d been some cheesy pop song playing over a montage of Niall and Kristen laughing their heads off and high-fiving when I sent my ball flying into the small pond beside hole 3.

“Oh relax,” Harry said with a laugh as he fell into step beside me. “You’re fine--Niall’s really good at it, so he makes the lot of us look bad.”

I let out a sigh, watching as Alex teed up at hole 4. Harry had been fine so far--we hadn’t really interacted much one on one, he draped an arm over my shoulders for a split second to kind of sell the whole we’re dating thing, but other than that, it felt like a regular group of friends out for a fun (or not so fun) night of mini-golf.

“Easy for you to say when you’re in third place.”

Kristen walked beside Ethan behind us, they were talking about something school-related, but I couldn’t quite hear. I gave Kristen explicit rules before we met the guys for dinner. Talk about me with Ethan if it makes sense (don’t just bring me up and make it seem like you’re trying to talk about me), make me look good if possible (say that I’m funny, tell him good stories about the fun things we do), and maybe even sit next to Harry so I can sit next to Ethan.

So far, so good.

“You get too in your head about it. You’re probably busy trying to look good,” he lowered his voice so Ethan wouldn’t hear his comment.

I let out a laugh and shoved him my elbow. “So what if I am?”

He rolled his eyes at this and ran a hand over his head, keeping the strands of hair in place that had flown loose from his bun.

“Is it a crime?” I asked, my voice louder now and a bit more playful. “Is that so wrong?”

My penchant for being loud and boisterous was only exaggerated by the way it made Harry uncomfortable. The more he rolled his eyes at me, the more he acted like I was being so obnoxious, the more I wanted to do it. That’s just kind of how we were.

So here, in a public place with plenty of other people out enjoying a Friday night at mini-golf, my loud laughter and Harry’s eye rolls seemed to be just as fitting as they were behind the information desk.

“Get out of your own head,” he said again, turning to look over quickly to see his place line. Ryan was up, meaning soon I’d have to put on another show of my terrible golf skills, and then it’s be Harry’s turn.

“So Nora, you’re a journalism major with Niall, right?” Ethan’s voice sounded behind me, causing me to turn quickly to face him and Kristen.

Kristen smiled--which seemed to convey a message that they’d been talking about me somewhat, and I nodded. “Yeah--I really like it, actually. Hoping to get an internship next semester.”

“Oh, yeah! That’d be awesome. Is it a requirement for your degree?”

His blonde hair was hid beneath a backwards hat--a few wisps stuck out above his ears. I wondered what his hair felt like, but I shook the thought out of my mind in order to answer him.

I nodded again. “I have to do two. I did one last year and I was kind of hoping to just get this one over with. That way I can enjoy senior year without any big requirements like that.”

“Don’t forget our capstone, though!” Niall said from a few people over, apparently overhearing our conversation. He watched as Ryan finished his last put, sinking the ball into the hole in only three shots. “I get nightmares now just thinkin’ about it.”

“You’re up, babe,” Harry reminded, nodding his head in the direction of the green.

It was a warm night--the September air was cool enough that we’d all brought light jackets or sweatshirts, but Niall was in shorts as he fed me words of encouragement. “This is it, Nora. Your hole in one. I believe in you.”

“That makes one of us,” I said under my breath, laughing a little as I placed my ball on the small tee and shook out my shoulders.

Harry laughed at this--apparently my getting in the moment routine was comical to him--and I shot him a look through narrowed eyes before I gripped my hands around the putter.

“Straighten up,” he said from the sidelines. I looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed in an are you actually trying to tell me what to do? stare. Niall let out a laugh when he saw the look on my face and gave Harry a light smack in the gut. “I’m just trying to help!” He defended.

“She doesn’t look like she wants it,” Niall replied swiftly, placing a hand on his hip as he kept his eyes on me.

“Will the peanut gallery please shut the fuck up?” I asked with a sweet smile, my words eliciting another eye roll from Harry.

They were all quiet then, and I could tell that all of their eyes were on me as I shifted my footing, looked from the ball to my hands and back down again. Then, I looked up, and brought my eyes to meet Harry’s.

“What do you mean straighten up?”

He sighed a little and a smirk pulled onto his face. “Your posture,” he said simply. “Like this.”

He walked over to me and placed a hand on the small of my back and my shoulder, forcing me to move my hips forward and my shoulders back. Ryan and Alex seemed to get distracted by something on Ryan’s phone, and luckily, it was only Niall, Kristen, and Ethan Davis watching our awkward encounter.

I hoped--with everything in my being--that Ethan Davis watched the way Harry’s hands touched me, and that maybe, just maybe, he was a little jealous.

“And grip your hands like this,” he reached forward to adjust my hands, our hips bumping as he placed my left thumb against the ball of my right hand.

He took a step back when he was finished, and I looked over to him with wide eyes.

“Jesus, Harry, get a room next time,” Niall called out, causing the entire group (Ryan and Alex included) to erupt in laughter. Kristen laughed too, an apologetic look on her face as if she weren’t really associated with the rest of them.

“Oh please,” I rolled my eyes, keen on downplaying whatever had just happened. I mean, for Ethan���s sake, Niall’s comment was appropriate and funny and on brand. For my own sake, Niall’s comment was groan-worthy.

“You’re all children,” Harry looked around at our friends, an annoyed (yet playful) look on his face as he walked back to take his spot beside them. He crossed his arms and watched hopefully as I let out another sigh.

I looked down at the ball and swung quickly, hoping that the ruckus of the group would be a distraction if my shot was just as bad as it’d been before. The ball travelled down the green, under the small bridge, hit the wall on the other side, and stopped a few feet short of hole 4.

I looked with wide eyes at Harry, a smile creeping on my face as he mirrored my expression. “That’s a start!”

**

It was Ryan who heard the ice cream truck as we handed our putters through the window to the kid working the rental booth. His eyes lit up when Alex mentioned a choco-taco, and soon we found ourselves on the boardwalk along the river with ice cream in hand.

Harry offered to pay for mine when I didn’t have cash--and, if he were going to be playing the role of my boyfriend, I figured he could afford a three dollar spongebob ice cream with gumball eyes.

So now I was stood beside Kristen, looking over D.C. as the sun began to set behind some of the taller buildings. Harry sat next to Ethan on a bench a few feet down, and the rest of the boys were leaning over the edge, staring down at the water as they ate their ice cream.

“You definitely broke a rule back there,” she said quietly, licking at her red, white, and blue popsicle. I’d warned her as she ordered that it was incredibly phallic, but that didn’t stop her from enjoying the shit out of it as another plane flew overhead to land.

I let out a sigh. “Yeah--rule six. But I mean, we have to touch somewhat, right? We can’t just not ever touch each other. That would make it hard to believe.”

She shrugged her shoulders and took another lick. “Yeah--you’ve gotta find the balance.”

“I think that rule is more meant for when it’s just us, you know? Or at least when Ethan’s not around. We’re trying to convince him more than the rest of you.”

She was quiet for a second, we both turned to see what the rest of them were laughing at. Niall--who had a strawberry shortcake ice cream held in his mouth--seemed to be climbing up on the railing so Alex could be the Jack to his Rose.

“Ethan definitely asked about you earlier. He asked how we met and how you and Harry met.”

“Did you tell him something good?” I asked eagerly, my eyes hopeful as I waited for her response.

She let out a snort and shifted on her feet. “I mean, I told him the truth.”

I shot her an unimpressed look. “You mean to tell me that you told Ryan that you and I are just roommates and that me and Harry just met at the information desk? You couldn’t come up with something better, at least for me and Harry?”

Kristen brushed her hair behind her ears and adjusted her sunglasses on her nose. “What did you want me say? That you and Harry met on top of the Washington Monument and he asked to be your boyfriend under some cherry blossoms?”

“Sounds more romantic than the information desk.”

She laughed me off as Harry approached from my other side.

“Where do spaghetti and sauce go to dance?”

“What?” I asked, running a hand through my hair as the wind blew another gust. “What are you talking about?”

He held up his ice cream stick in front of my face, but he repeated the same question. “Where do spaghetti and sauce go to dance?”

“Oh wait, let me think,” Kristen held up a hand, requesting that Harry not give the answer away just yet.

“You can get it,” he encouraged her.

“Something about a bowl? Cheese? Something Italian? I don’t know,” she gave up finally, gaining a laugh from me.

“The meat ball,” Harry read it allowed, a proud look on his face as if he’d written the joke himself.

I stared up at him--eyebrows raised--and he let out another laugh. “You’re a tough critic.”

Kristen left us to throw out her popsicle stick, and for a second, I almost thought Harry was going to drape his arm around me once more. Instead, he leaned on the railing like I was--looking out over D.C.

“I’d say it’s been a successful night,” he said quietly, turning to look at me from behind his sunglasses.

“Yeah--Kristen said Ethan asked about me before,” I said, but Harry scrunched his nose suddenly.

“Oh,” he said, nodding. “Yeah, that’s good.”

I was quiet for a second--unsure of why he seemed awkward and weird--but maybe I was just reading into it.

“Are you seriously eating around the eyes?” He looked down at my ice cream--and the spot that had melted onto the railing next to my hand.

“They’re gumballs,” I told him. “I’m saving them for last.”

He laughed, keeping his eyes on my face for what felt like a second longer than usual. But again, maybe I was reading into it.

**

Tonight was fun. Thanks for the ice cream.

I’ll pay you back on Sunday.

No need. I can spare three dollars.

But you’re welcome.

Did you guys do anything after we all parted ways?

Nope, just headed back to the apartment and watched TV.

Ethan didn’t come, if that’s what you’re asking.

Good to know haha

**

AN: thanks for reading, y’all!!! I would love any and all feedback since this story is new!! 

[aworldoffandoms]

Runaway

A Royal Romance Story

Synopsis: Two years have passed since Queen Ariel vanished. Two years Liam has searched but ends up empty-handed. All that was left of her departure was a note. Could Ariel not handle being Queen or was there foul play at hand?

Will Liam find his beloved or is it a case of Ariel not wanting to be found?

Chapter 1: Gone With the Wind

Pairing: Liam x MC [Ariel]

Word Count: 2, 187 (give or take)

Rating: T 

Warnings: Language (swearing)

Summary: Drake reminisces on the moment that tore is friend’s heart apart.

A/N: This is my first try at TRR fanfic so please be gentle haha. 

This series will focus on these two (and the gang, of course, lol) and there might be some future NSFW and adult moments including sexual references, swearing (there might be a lot of swearing) and other violent situations (maybe). You have been warned and you consent that you are 18+ or at least mature enough to handle these themes that might be explored.

I’m not sure if this idea has been explored yet but it just popped in my head. I hope you enjoy!

If you want to be tagged please let me know :)

Thanks to @the-everlasting-dream, @pixieferry, @bobasheebaby and @lorirwrites for all your help, beta edits and/or advice! It means a lot! 

Special thanks to @ernestsinclairs for your wonderful help with getting this first chapter up and ready :) 

Disclaimer: All rights reserved to Pixelberry and all characters belong to them. The plot is all mine.

Present Day

There’s a knock on Liam’s study door and he calls for whoever it is to come in as he goes through the last of his documents after a long day of governance. It was a wonder he could get the right amount of sleep with the amount of sheer work he was dealing with on a daily basis.

He looks up as the door opens and his mouth pulls up in a small smile seeing his best friend stride in, a glass of whiskey already in his hand. Giving Liam a faint smile, Drake turns to glance down at the pile of documents on his desk.

“You still working this late? It’s past eleven. Do you ever stop?”

Liam chuckles, leaning back in his chair and steepling his fingers, giving Drake a shrug.

“You’d think that a King would get some time to relax but evidently that does not happen. Life of a royal.”

Drake drops himself down on the couch in the corner of Liam’s study, crossing his legs at the knee, obviously at ease.

He stares at his friend, already knowing why he was pushing himself so much. He knew Liam well. Every time a worry came up, a disruption in his life, he would throw himself into his work, drowning out the troubles with stacks of papers and the bright red wax of the royal seal. It was to get away from the memories, the thinking, the ‘what ifs’, the constant worry and the heartbreak.

He hated seeing his best friend like this but there wasn’t anything he could do. They’d been powerless for a little over two years. Every lead towards Ariel was a dead end. Every person even remotely close to her didn’t provide anything that could help them.  

Drake sighs, running his free hand through his hair as he took a sip of his whiskey with the other. “Don’t you think that you are pushing yourself too hard right now, Liam?”

Liam glances up and his eyes are duller than their normal sparkle. It hangs over him like a cloud over his eyes, no real light to ignite them, and the one person that could make them light up simply wasn’t there anymore. Drake would almost be angry at that fact alone but he knew that if he brought it up with Liam, he would shoo Drake out the door again. He almost always didn’t want to hear it.

Liam doesn’t answer his question but stands up and heads to his bar cart, pouring a glass of whiskey himself, the clang of ice against the glass almost deafening in the silence.

Liam turns around shrugging at his friend. He was staying silent because he knew that if he talked about it, it would rip through his heart like a thousand knives. It always did. The loss of her was always constant. The pain had never left him even after two years.

The glint of his wedding band catches his eye in the dim light of his study, and he sighs heavily. As he stares at the physical evidence of the happiest time of his life, pain lances through him again. All those memories running through his mind before he had to squeeze his eyes shut to dispel the amount of pain and hurt that was threatening to drown him.

After a while, not wanting to torture himself any longer, he glances up at his best friend and gives him a weak smile. “I have to busy myself, Drake. It’s the only way to not think about it.”

Drake sighs, but if it was out of either frustration or understanding, Liam didn’t know.

“I understand that Liam, but there is something as working too much.”

Liam moves over to the couch to sit next to Drake, running his hands through his hair and staring into the now empty whiskey glass.

Drake straightens up in the couch and leans forward, staring into the small fireplace set in the far wall next to a green fern that Ariel had placed there when she mentioned to Liam that he needed to have a colour and a little nature in his study. Liam relented because he always did. Anything to make her happy. Drake tried his best to make his words hurt less but they didn’t do the desired effect because Liam still looked like he’d been punched in the gut.

“You have to slow down and think about your health. Over-exerting yourself isn't good for you or Cordonia. It’s not good for the country if their King is teetering on the edge of exhaustion all the time. I think . . . ” Drake paused, thinking heavily before going on. He had loved Ariel - everyone had. But it had become all consuming. Drake knew why the king looked so exhausted. He always made time to find her. Everyday he’d take time out of his busy schedule to search. “ . . . I think you need to stop looking for her. She’s not coming back. She’s gone. You have to deal with that.”

Liam glances up at his best friend. For the first time in years, he can’t help but enjoy the spark of anger exploding inside his chest.

“How can I stop, Drake, when I have no fucking clue where she is in the first place? She’s my wife. And she just vanished.”

Drake sighs, already steeling himself for his angry retort. He only said this once before and that was after the first anniversary after her disappearance, the first time Liam had laid a hand on him ever since they were kids and it was all fun and games. Drake suffered two black eyes and a broken eye-socket and he vowed never to say it again.

He risked that damage now because he loved his best friend and he hated seeing him like this. He hadn’t been himself ever since he found that note that ripped his heart in two. His heart ached for Liam. He wouldn’t want to wish this on anyone.

The thought of the love of his life vanishing gave him pause and he felt a pang inside his chest. He thanked the heavens that he had a firecracker in Olivia and that he still had her with him.

They’d all seen the exact moment that Liam’s heart cracked and shattered into a million pieces, spilling onto the floor, festering into a puddle of anguish and pain.

Two Years Ago…

Liam stood with his hands clenched in a tight fist, the knuckles turning white as he sculled his whiskey, the lines of his jaw clenching.

Drake stood there with him, wanting to comfort him but knew that it would not do any good to his mental or emotional state right now.

“Liam? What’s wrong? Why did you call all of us in here?”

When Bastien had come downstairs to the palace dining room and asked him, Hana, Olivia and Maxwell to meet Liam in his master suite, they were all rightfully confused. The royal chambers belonged to the Royals. An unusual request like this couldn’t bode well.

Even so, with their hearts sinking, they complied with Bastien’s demand and all of them traipsed up the grand staircase to meet the King’s Guard.

When they all filed into the room they found Liam sitting on the bed, face still hidden, his arms resting limply on his knees as a single piece of paper hung between his fingers.

When Liam glanced up, there was a gasp from Olivia and Hana at the sight of him. To find the King of Cordonia with red-rimmed eyes and tears streaking down his face was more than a little weird and bewildering.

They were all accustomed to the stoic, reserved King to always be in place but Drake had to remind himself that just because Liam had Cordonia to look after and should always have a face of calm, passive decorum, he was also human too.

Drake stepped forward tentatively. “Liam? You called us?”

Liam didn’t say anything, just handed the note to Drake whose eyes got wider and wider until by the end his heart was breaking too, not because of what it said, but of what it was doing to Liam.

“Oh no,” Hanna said, her voice almost on the verge of tears.

“My little blossom…” Maxwell sighs as he runs a hand through his brunette hair.

Drake finally tears his gaze away from the note and meets his best friends pained eyes.

“Liam…where did you find this?”

The king remained silent as he walks to his bar cart and only filled his glass with more than a few fingers of whiskey.

“I found it on our bed. It was propped up against the pillows with this.”

Liam turns around and walks over to them and drops in Drake’s hand Ariel’s engagement ring.

Shit.

This would definitely destroy Liam if it wasn’t already.

Drake stared at the ring some more before glancing up at Liam. “But…how? I don’t understand...”  

Liam scoffs, running his hands over his face, wiping away the tear tracks like they were not there in the first place.

“Beats me. I thought she was happy.”

Drake glanced down at the letter again. He couldn’t help but read it again, the words making his heart ache for his best friend.

To my dear Liam,

I am sorry that I am writing this to you but I felt like this was the only way. Before I say anything I want you to know that I love you. I love you with everything in me. You are the best thing to happen in my life and I thank the stars every day that you walked into my bar that night.

Even writing this is breaking my heart because I know that after this letter, this will be the end. I know that this wasn’t what you expected and I understand if you are angry at me. I would be too but it is the only way for you to let me go. I knew that you wouldn’t otherwise.

I’ll be long gone after you get this. It’s not hard considering you are always working and that is not your fault. You’re the King of Cordonia. You have a duty to your country and the people that reside within it to do the best you can for them.

The last year has proven that and the changes and advances that you have done shine so brightly and I am so immensely proud of you, my love.

You have a determination and a drive to protect your country and to see it thrive and I admire that about you so much. It’s what made me fall in love with you in the first place. Your unquenchable desire to see it thrive and prosper and to see your people happy. You have succeeded with that. You are one incredible King but you are an even better man.

The last year as your wife and queen has been the best experience I could have ever dreamed of. You have made me so happy. So happy I could burst. The things that we have done together for this country is something that I will treasure forever. To work together as a team and brainstorm with the ideas that have come to fruition are some of our biggest accomplishments.

Being Queen was a responsibility that I understood perfectly. I knew what I was getting into when I married you. You had warned me plenty of times during the engagement tour and the Unity Tour what was to be expected. I just didn’t know how much pressure it would put on my shoulders. Maybe I’m a coward for doing this because I know I am. I want you to know that you should not blame yourself for this. This is my transgression to hold on to – not you.

There are only a few regrets that I’ll have after saying this goodbye.

The few things that I will regret is not seeing your face every day when we wake up together and marvelling at how a man such as you loves me. My regret is not kissing your lips a little longer or hugging you tight to me for just a few moments more or just drowning in your eyes that I love so much.

But there is one thing that I will never ever regret and that is you, Liam. You have been the greatest adventure of my life. You are the only thing that could break me and as I write this I almost don’t want to go but I have to. You have to understand that.

Please, please forgive me, my love.

Remember that I will always love you.

Yours forever and a day,

Ariel

The letter, the only clue to Ariel’s disappearance, remained the sole piece of her left. Clothes, shoes, jewellery, wallet, every remnant of evidence to know that she had once lived there was gone. It was a wonder she wasn’t caught.

The Queen of Cordonia had vanished, leaving a broken-hearted man in her wake and a country in mourning.

[lovemesomesurveys]

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? I always filled the milk a bit over the cereal. 2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintry day? Yeah. Way better than feeling the miserable heat. 3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? Paper, receipts...whatever is available that I can use. 4: how do you take your coffee/tea? I like my coffee with flavored creamers or half and half and sugar. I like my tea with sugar. 5: are you self-conscious of your smile? Very.

6: do you keep plants? No. 7: do you name your plants? 8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? Writing. I do that through these surveys. 9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? Sometimes.  10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? My side. 11: what’s an inside joke you have with your friends? No friends to have inside jokes with. 12: what’s your favorite planet? I’m cool with earth. 13: what’s something that made you smile today? My doggo. 14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like?  I don’t know, something nice and cute. 15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! Nah. 16: what’s your favorite pasta dish? Pesto spaghetti, regular spaghetti, tortellini and pesto, stuffed ravioli.  17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? I like dying it red. I really need to get it done again soon, ideally before my birthday next month.  18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. Meh. 19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw in it? This is it. 20: what’s your favorite eye color? Blue or green. 21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. I like my big Star Wars purse and my little Minnie Mouse cross body bag.  22: are you a morning person? I’ve become more of one this year, which is odd because I was always someone who slept past noon. It started when I got really sick back in January and my sleep schedule was especially messed up and I was getting up early all the time. It just became the norm after awhile. 23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have zero obligations?  So everyday? I like to Tumblr, do surveys, watch TV, watch YouTube, rest, read, color, check social media. 25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into? I’ve never broken into anywhere. 26: what are the shoes you’ve had forever and wear with every single outfit? My Allstar Adidas.  27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor? Spearmint. 28: sunrise or sunset? Sunset.  29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? Uhh. 30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? Absolutely. On several occasions. 31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? I like socks. I wear them all the time. I prefer to just wear black ankle socks, but I do have a few pairs of “fun” ones. 32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. Out driving on this levy in my friend’s pickup truck. It was actually kind of scary because he was driving fast and obviously at 3AM it was very dark. 33: what’s your fave pastry? Donuts, cupcakes, muffins. 34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? I had a lot of stuffed animals, but I wasn’t the kid who had one they carried around with them everywhere. 35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? I do, even though I’m not an artsy/crafty person. I just loved getting that stuff for school. 36: which band’s sound would fit your mood right now? *shrug* Something alternative. 37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? I like to keep it clean. 38: tell us about your pet peeves! Eating/chewing sounds lsjlsjfslk. Ice hitting against a glass. People pretending to poke/putting their finger in my face/poking me. People mocking me. Being told to just “calm down” or “chill.” 39: what color do you wear the most? Black. 40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s its story? does it have any meaning to you? I have a very pretty college class ring with my birthstones on it. 41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving? I’ve read a lot of good books. 42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! I just go to Starbucks. Yeah, I’m a basic bitch. 43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? No one. 44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything?  Anytime I’m at the beach. For those few hours nothing else matters and I actually feel calm and relaxed. I was last there this past Thursday and it was great. 

45: do you trust your instincts a lot? Yes. 46: tell us the worst pun you can think of. Hmm. I love puns, good and bad. We got my dad a Father’s Day card with a cartoony hot dog that says, “I have never sausage an awesome dad” or something along those lines and on the inside it said, “Frank you for all that you do.” lol so there’s some lame hot dog puns for you. My dad loves to grill up hot dogs a lot, so it was fitting for him. 47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? Just cause I don’t like it I’m not gonna ban it from the universe. 48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? Bugs and the dark. Bugs are definitely still a big fear of mine. I’m scared of the dark still, but not like I was as a kid.  49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? I haven’t bought a CD in years. 50: what’s an odd thing you collect? I used to collect rocks.

[itoldheraboutyou]

i feel different - chapter 4

you can read previous chapters here: ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ao3 link

notes:  oh my god. i am so sorry lol. i know i told you guys not to hold me to my schedule (thanks for doing that by the way) but i just feel so bad about saying you’d get a chapter weekly and then just leaving for 3 weeks. i really didn’t think i was gunna get burnt out as quick as i did, but here we are. from now on, there will be no schedule, i’m sorry! you’ll get content though, don’t worry. anyway, enjoy. ;)

chapter 4

“but then she-“

“got mad at you, i know.” amber mumbles as she clears the table behind me. “you told me.”

“amber i’m having a crisis-“

“when are you not having a crisis?!” she spits frustratingly, slamming the plates she’d taken from the other table onto mine.

“well sorry my problems are bothering you!” i retort, crossing my arms.

amber rolls her eyes. “god, you’re such a drama queen. jonah, your problems aren’t bothering me, but my break ended 15 minutes ago. as much as i’d love to play therapist for you, i have a job.” damn, that stung. i bite my lip and lift my arms to rest on the table, backing off for the time being. amber sighs, putting her hand on my shoulder. “thank you. call me later, alright? i charge $300 a phone call.”

i swat at her arm, a small, amused smile spreading on my face. one thing that would never change about amber as that she’s blunt, always has been always will. and she never sugarcoated anything even if it stings, like right now. amber gives me a final, thankful nod before heading off towards the kitchen. i might as well get out of here, amber hates when i hang around while she’s working for reasons i just witnessed. my bad. i’m about to stand up when in my peripheral vision when i see cyrus walk through the door. he spots me almost immediately, and i, without thinking, wave him over.

“hey.” he smiles, sliding into the booth across from me. i’ve always liked that smile, it always seems brighter around me.

“hey.”

“so, what’s up?” he asks, not even hesitating before delving into my basket of baby taters.

“literally nothing.”

“well,” cyrus says, standing up apruptly. “let’s go then.”

“what?”

“andi told me you wanted my job. the shop is empty and bowie is busy working at the music store, he left with a ton of stuff to do. we’re gunna go do it.” he says like i should’ve known. to be fair, what i should’ve known is that saying i wanted the job at judy bloom’s was going to come back to bite me in the ass. is this a bite though? i get to hang out with cyrus. “well, are you coming?”

i nod, getting up from my seat with a smile. cyrus smiles back, looking almost relieved. i don’t know why he would, i could never say no to him.

•••

“so what’re we doing?” i ask absentmindedly as we walk the streets of shadyside. cyrus glances at me fleetingly before shoving his hands into the pockets of his chinos.

“well, i’m gunna be filling arrangement orders and you are gunna be doing the dirty work... because you’re obviously much more equipped.”

“oh, is that right?” i tease him, a small smile forming on his lips. “i’d be flattered if it weren’t for the fact that i know you’re just afraid of nature.”

“it’s a healthy fear!” he persists.

“why did you get a job here then?” i ask as we approach the shop. cyrus pulls open the door, letting it swing closed after i’ve let myself in.

“i like putting arrangements together, or, the flower part. the other stuff i didn’t think i’d have to do.” he replies, grabbing a pair of gloves off the counter and handing them to me.

“and why do i need these?” i raise an eyebrow, cautiously taking them from him.

“i told you i’m making arrangements, i need you to dethorn some roses.”

“and how am i more equipped for this?” i chuckle, sliding my fingers through a glove.

“because my hands are fragile!” he says matter-a-factly. “you play frisbee, i figured yours would be tougher and like, calloused.”

i let out a full laugh at cyrus’ conclusion causing him to pout. “cyrus, i’m not playing volleyball, jesus. throwing a frisbee around won’t give you callouses.”

cyrus reaches out, snatching my other ungloved hand from my side. “it’s tougher than mine though, don’t you feel it? my skin is like tissue paper compared to yours.” the feeling of cyrus’ hand in mine is surprisingly familiar, or it should be. i let out a breath, my shoulders loosening up. cyrus pulls my hand towards him, turning it over palm up, as if showing me. “see?”

i nod, and he lets go, walking behind the counter. “so where are the roses?” i ask, looking around.

cyrus points to a huge pile sat in front of him and i grumble sheepishly, saying some kind of excuse for my unintelligence. i grab a rose and start picking at it, thorn by thorn, as cyrus rolls out some paper and starts arranging.

“you never answered my question from last time. before we, ya know, got trapped.” i say, shaking off a particular thorn that had gotten caught in my glove into the trash cyrus had kicked out from under the counter.

“what question?” he asks, the same focused look on his face that was there that night. it takes a lot for me not to get distracted by it.

“why you’re into all this.” i wave a gloved hand over his current project.

“i believe you asked me when and not why,” he corrects me, and i make a face back. “and i answered you, just kind of always.”

“well okay, why then? what’s the tea?”

cyrus’ hands stop abruptly, and i realize that he’s gaping at me.

“did you just say what’s the tea?!”

“ya, amber taught it to me.” i let slip, hoping he doesn’t get angry over the fact that that insinuates i hang out with her. instead, he bursts out laughing, literally doubling over he gets so worked up.

after a minute or so, he straightens ups and says through heavy breaths; “tell her i love her, oh my god,” calmed down for the most part.

“better than docious?” he turns back to his flowers, still giggling. “way better.”

“alright, i get it, you didn’t need to say way.” i joke, picking off another thorn and letting it fall into the trash can.

“so the tea is,” he emphasizes tea, and i catch him smiling to himself. “flowers have their own language.”

“language?”

“ya so, i’m making this bouquet for austin knight-“

“knight? are you talking about cece’s neighbors?” i ask, cyrus nods.

“mhm. according to austin, him and lilian had a fight, and purple hyacinth means “i’m sorry.” he places one last branch of foliage into his bouquet of purple, and then wraps it.

“what do these mean?” i wonder, resorting to scraping the stem, causing multiple thorns to pop off.

“love.” he answers simply, finishing off the white bow he’d tied around the hyacinths and then set them down gently into a large vase. “but only the red ones. yellow ones mean friendship, white means sympathy, and pink ones mean gratitude.”

“well shit,” i exclaim with a lopsided grin, it’s intriguing to say the least. i like that, i don’t know. i like that a simple gesture that i never gave any thought to before now has meaning. maybe that’s why cyrus likes them so much, maybe he relates.

“those ones?” i point to a a certain bucket on the bottom shelf.

“jonah, i’m not where you are i can’t see them.” he chides with an eye roll. “what color are they?”

“orange.” i answer him, straining my neck to examine it further.

“well you’re probably looking at orange lilies, those mean hatred.”

“damn, so you can be like, totally fake to someone?” i ask, letting out a whimper when my sliding technique backfires and gets me stabbed. “fuck, these gloves don’t even work!” cyrus chuckles, glancing over at me.

“do i need to get the first aid kit again?”

“cyrus, i’m dethorning a rose, what do you want from me?” i whine, shaking my hand around wildly knowing that it’s probably not doing anything. cyrus just chuckles, shaking his head fondly at me as i struggle.

“hey, what did the flowers i gave bex and bowie mean?” i ask, ripping the glove off my hand.

cyrus bites his lip, bring his eyes back to what’s in front of him. “uh, good luck and kindness.” i nod, too distracted with my finger to really think about it. “speaking of,” he clears his throat. “how was dinner?”

i groan, shoving my hand back in the glove despite the dull ache. “didn’t andi tell you?”

“she did, but i wanna know your side of the story... if you wanna tell me.”

i pick up another rose, going back to removing the thorns individually. i almost smile at cyrus caring about what i have to say. “what if you have other motives?” i joke, though i am worried about that.

“like what? telling andi? this is your stuff to figure out, i don’t want to be involved. besides, she may be one of my best friends but you’re important to me too.” he says nonchalantly, walking out from behind the counter and bending down to grab what i think are tulips. i lick my dry lips, his last sentence ringing in my ear.

“well, i did space out. like i wasn’t mentally there. just thinking of some- some stuff.” which is the truth. “stuffs been like, weird, i guess.”

“is everything okay? are you okay?” cyrus asks, setting down the flower in his hand and looking me dead in the eyes. i could say yes, but i’m tired. i’m really tired.

“not... really?”

cyrus rests his elbows on the counter, smiling sympathetically at me. “okay,” i give him a questioning look, biting my tongue. maybe i shouldn’t of said anything, god i really shouldn’t of. did i totally just fuck up? “well what’s wrong?”

i let out a breath i didn’t know i was holding. “i just get like, overwhelmed sometimes ya know?” is that too much? does he even care? of course he cares, why would he have asked then? i realize i’m arguing with my anxiety and i try and drown it out.

“i do, and it sucks. like it just hits you out of nowhere and you’re like “okay, gotta deal with this now, it’s not like i was doing anything important!” we laugh, and i smile down at the rose in my hands. it’s the last one.

“that’s exactly what it feels like.” cyrus opens his mouth to say something else, but then my phone goes off in my pocket. i fish it out, skimming over the texts from andi.

- can you come over? we need to talk about friday

i look up at cyrus who’s started to work again, messing with various foliage branches. “its andi, she wants to talk. you don’t mind if i-“

“no,” he interrupts, his eyes never leaving the foliage. “go ahead, i get it. thanks for helping me.”

i take off the gloves and set them down next to the new dethorned pile of roses and head to the door. the doors open and i have a foot out before i stop dead in my tracks. “i’ll text you.”

he still doesn’t look at me, but i can see his lips turn up. “okay.”

•••

should i be nervous? i don’t know, she didn’t give me any indication that i should be. then why does it feel like the anxiety is slowly creeping up my throat? i bite down hard on my lip and attempt to swallow any fear i have as i walk up the steps to andi’s apartment building. god, my heart rate is way too high for a simple talk. i start going over my apology in my head, making sure it’s absolutely perfect. i can’t take any chances. it takes me a second, but before i know it i’m knocking on her door. the next fifteen seconds are absolute grueling, what does she need to say to me? i can’t even try and reassure myself before andi opens the door, looking less than pleased. there’s no smile, or happy kiss hello, but it’s not like i was expecting that.

“hey, come in.” she offers, opening the door up wider for me to step in. as soon as she closes the door, an uncomfortable aura washes over the room. i can practically feel the awkward as we just stand there, staring at each other. finally, andi sighs, going to sit on the couch. i follow, hoping that’s what she wants to me to do. it’s still just as awkward, but now we’re sitting down.

“can i go first?” i blurt out, the silence becoming too much. “please?” i give her a pleading look, but she’s not looking at me.

andi doesn’t look surprised, relieved maybe. she nods, and i take a deep breath. “i am so sorry about dinner. i did space out, that wasn’t a lie, but being tired was not an excuse for how rude i came off-“

“you’re right, it wasn’t.” she interrupts, her voice icy.

“and i will apologize to bex and bowie also. but andi, i want you to know that i did know how important that dinner was for you- for us. and i wanted it to be a turning point too.”

andi’s breath hitches and she slowly runs her hands down her legs, her eyes trained on the carpet. “did you?” her anger seems to have dissipated into genuine curiosity. she turns towards me, her eyes still attached to the carpet. “did you want it to be a turning point?” i open my mouth to answer, but she holds up a hand. “and don’t even think about lying to me like you have been. i deserve the truth,” our eyes lock at the last word. “jonah.

“i...” it takes everything in me to keep my breathing fairly level. i’m too focused on calming myself down than her words, but one phrase in particular does resonate. she does deserve the truth, she deserves more than i’m willing to give her. and does that make me a bad person? or does it make me confused? “it depends on what you mean by turning point.”

she throws her hands up, practically jumping off the couch. “okay, see, this is what you do, jonah. you make it so you’re not technically lying but it’s never a straight answer. god, who even are you? this is not the jonah beck i know.”

i stand up too, turning on her. “and who’s that? who’s the jonah you know because i sure as hell don’t know who i am!” it’s more of a whine than anything as there’s no venom in my voice, but it’s the most truthful thing i’ve said to her in weeks. i look down at my hands, a little stunned at my own confession, letting myself slowly sit back onto the couch. andi is just as surprised, if not more. she sits down beside me again, seemingly mellowed out a bit.

“what do you mean?” she asks cautiously after i’ve regained some sobriety.

“what do you mean what do i mean? we’re teenagers right?” i try and play it off as if i’ve already come to terms with this and i’ve known for a long time, but this is really the first time i’ve admitted it to myself. “aren’t we all still figuring out who we are?”

“ya, no, you’re totally right. i just... you have to know what i mean when i say you’ve been acting different though.” she responds, trying her hand at a more gentle approach.

“i know.” i say with a shaky breath, losing more and more of the reigns as time passes.

“so, i think we need to take a break-“

“what?!” i practically yelp, panicked. “i- i thought we just came to an understanding?”

“we did,” she shrugs. “and i appreciate the honesty. but that still doesn’t change the fact that you weren’t thinking of this dinner the way i was thinking of it.”

“no, andi,” i chuckle, trying to cover up how quick and sporadic my breathing’s gotten. “i was.” the words die on my tongue, and i realize what a blatant lie that is. though i knew she was thinking of it like that, i had never felt the same way. though i knew she wanted this to be the next step, i never did.

“you weren’t though.” she says bitterly. “and we both know it. and honestly, it’s my fault. we’ve been doing this since the 7th grade, jonah. you say one thing and mean another.” she gets up, making her way towards the door. she opens it, and gives me an expectant look. “we’re taking a break.”

i start violently shaking my head, tripping over words left and right. “andi please, andi, i wanted- i want it, please!” she just shakes her head, looking away from me. i take the opportunity and walk out, pretending as if i’m not on the brink of an anxiety attack.

•••

“amber? amber, andi, she, i can’t breath, i can’t move, please come- come get me,” i heave into my phone which i’ve managed to put on speaker. i’m currently sat on the sidewalk a block away from andi’s place, absolutely frozen with fear. i’ve done the breathing exercises and now i’ve just absolutely given up, allowing myself to panic and my insides to scream and cry and not stop.

“i’m on my way, where are jonah? do you know?” despite the fact that i’m practically incoherent, she sounds pretty calm.

“a block- a block from andi’s. center street.”

it takes amber approximately 3 minutes to get here. and those 3 minutes were even more grueling than the 15 seconds i spent waiting for andi to open the door. this was a different kind of grueling though, and it was on top of agonizing fear. her car pulls up in front of me, and she’s by my side in seconds.

“jonah, hey, hey, breathe.” she coos, grabbing my hand for some stability.

the breathing doesn’t work, but i knew it wouldn’t. it wasn’t working 10 minutes ago why would it now? amber’s at a dead end, opting to just hold my hand as i ride out the attack. i’ve never been more afraid in my entire life. the attack lasts for 23 minutes in total from the time i stepped out of andi’s apartment to where i am now, cradled in amber’s arms on the sidewalk of center street. once my breathing evens out, amber helps me up and into her car.

“what the hell just happened?” she asks once we’ve both into the car.

i stare straight ahead, my hand tightening around the handle of the door. “i have no idea.” i reply honestly. i tell amber the whole story as she drives me back to my dads place, from talking to cyrus to andi telling me we’re going on a break. she just listens, one hand on the steering wheel and one resting on the side of her cheek. “jonah, i love you, and i’m saying this out of love...” she starts, glancing over at me.

“what?”

amber bites her lip, then lets out a frustrated sigh, slamming the hand that was holding her head of down on the car door. “look, if you’re not gunna tell your parents about this, then i will-“

“you wouldn’t.” i cut her off, gritting my teeth.

“jonah, we are in way over our heads with this,” she spits. “you just collapsed on the fucking SIDEWALK, like, you need help-“

“i don’t need help!” i yell, squeezing my eyes shut. there’s nothing wrong with me, i want to argue.

“you do though," she argues, her voice raising as well as mine. “you need help, and i’m enabling you in ignoring that. admit it jonah, because you have an anxiety problem, okay?! this is real, this is happening, you can’t keep-“

“i’ll do whatever i want! i’m not fucking crazy, alright?” i take in a staggered breath.

“i’m not saying you’re crazy, jonah.” she rolls her eyes. “i’m saying you have a serious mental health issue. you can’t keep treating me like i’m a goddamn licensed psychologist, alright? it’s time you grow the fuck up and realize that hiding this is just hurting you.”

i frown, looking down at my shoes. “i thought you understood.”

“jonah, this IS me understanding, understanding that this has been going on for way too long.” she glances at me, and i know exactly what that look says.

“i’ll tell my brother, okay?” i blurt. “will that shut you up?”

“for awhile, maybe. but my ultimatum still stands.” she says, roughly hitting the breaks in front of my apartment building. “get out of my car. and seriously jonah, fuck you.”

“ya, fuck you too.” i grumble, getting out and slamming the door for good measure. i watch as she drives off, and i can’t help but feel incredibly guilty for what just happened. she’s the person who’s kept me stable since everything went down, and i just punished her for it. i turn towards my apartment building and start walking in, hoping to give into the urge of curling up in a ball and not getting out of bed for a few days. i stick my key into the lock twisting it and shoving the door open. daniel’s on the couch, and i’m just praying to god that he ignores my existence. but of course, i’m not that lucky, and daniel turns around.

“hey, where’ve you been all day?”

“breaking up with my girlfriend.” i deadpan, hoping he’ll take the hint and leave me be.

“what? oh my god, jo, i’m so sorry. do you wanna talk about-“

“what i want if for you to leave me alone.” i growl. daniel stiffens, obviously taken aback by my attitude.

“fine, be an asshole then.” he shrugs, resuming his position on the couch. i will be an asshole, thanks for that. i think, storming into the bedroom. this was gunna be a long night.

[airagorncharda]

I had top surgery yesterday! 

update below the cut!

I seem to be fine every time I’m awake, although I’m napping a LOT (a good thing).

They had to intubate me for the surgery, so my throat’s a little sore, and my sides are sore, especially where the drains are in, but I’m already off the oxi (it was making me nauseous) and onto Tylenol and Advil, taking as prescribed. 

My post from a few days ago had a bunch of concerns and excitements, so here’s an update:

Issue #1 - my parents being at the hospital WAS stressful but also good. They asked a lot of questions but they also got a lot of answers that seemed to ease their minds, and they were able to be helpful when I was coming out of it. 

Issue #2 - I had to be very very clear with the Dr (Dr Pranay Parikh) that retaining nipple sensation was such a priority for me. He indicated right before the surgery that in order to do that I might end up with a B cup, aka it would be more of a reduction than a removal, which I was pretty stressed and sad about. But I communicated what my priorities were (nipple sensation, passing WHILE CLOTHED, not having breasts anymore) and he really listened. 

And then the surgery went absolutely perfectly apparently, and as far as I can tell my chest LOOKS how I wanted AND I kept sensitivity, so I’m just over the moon about how this has gone. Literally everything I wanted. 

Issue #3 - I still can’t cuddle my cats but my fiance has been holding the up for me to pet them and give them kisses a couple times, and the one that usually spends most of her time in our room is hanging out in here on a leash so she can’t get too close but also isn’t being exiled or feeling unloved It’s good.

Issue #4 - The Dr was really good about not assuming pronouns or anything, which was a relief. I do USE he/him pronouns, but the repetition of “No assumptions!” from him made me feel like I COULD have told him I’m nonbinary without it being an issue.

My fiance’s mom did say something like “Now you’re a man!!” which was a little frustrating, but she’s a lady who’s very supportive and was trying to say the right thing so... her heart’s in the right place at least. I think out of anyone saying it, I’m least bothered by it being her, because I know what she was trying to say. Other people saying the same thing would have felt like they were saying that transition makes gender, or that I must be binary, but from her it was just her fumbling over how to say “this is what you wanted!! :)” so it’s whatever.

Issue #5 - Too early to have any opinions or updates about this one yet.

Issue #6 - Still true, but only a mild annoyance. I’m not sure I COULD draw like this anyway.

Issue #7 - I was NOT given laughing gas, so this was not an issue! I remember them telling me that they gave me stuff to knock me out, and I gave a thumbs up, and then I woke up a few hours later with no breasts!

Issue #8 - I decided not to wear anything, and I’ve just been sitting on a red towel, and it’s way less stress and has not been a problem. 

Excitement #1 - No fucking breasts, holy shit! I don’t have a lot to say about this yet other than that it already feels better not to have them, even while I have drains in, and a weird compression binder on, and gauze pads all over my chest, etc. I can already fit better into this button up shirt (IF YOU HAVE TOP SURGERY: WEAR A LOOSE BUTTON UP SHIRT, IT WILL SAVE YOUR LIFE), and I already feel so much relief just from not seeing them when I look down.

Excitement #2 - I mean I’ve been napping constantly, but I have to sleep on my back for now, so I don’t have an update on the dysphoria sleep yet. I’m pretty certain it’s not going to be a thing anymore though. 

Excitement #3 - No updates yet on passing publicly, obviously.

Excitement #4 - Same with this, although they haven’t misgendered me once in the past couple days so maybe the surgery being a reality has already had the desired effect from my parents.

Excitement #5 - No spooning yet, I gotta sleep on my back for now.

Excitement #6 - No swimming yet, lol

Excitement #7 - I haven’t yet, but I’m honestly excited to get photos of myself in this state the next time I get my binder off to get checked. Y’all might get to see what I look like post surgery, which is admittedly A Wreck, but I’m excited about it.

Excitement #8 - I love blue jello and my parents are bringing over mashed potatoes. Also, I never realized that stop-and-shop brand ginger ale actually tastes different from other brands? I think it’s got less ginger in it. And maybe, like, a little vanilla? Anyway, my parents bought the stop and shop brand, and it’s weird.

Excitement #9 - Mostly so far I’ve been playing animal crossing on my phone between naps, but I’m looking forward to games and movies.

Thing #1 - Originally I had to be there for 10:30 for a noon appointment. Then they called and informed me I had to be there at 8:15 for a 9:45 appointment. Then when my fiance and I were IN THE CAR on the WAY TO THE HOSPITAL they called me and asked where I was?? Apparently there was a clerical error so they thought my surgery was scheduled for 8:45 instead of 9:45? Anyway it didn’t end up being a problem but it was stressful.

Thing #2 - This plan has worked out very well so far, with my parents doing grocery shopping while my fiance takes care of me. A++ plan, going great.

Thing #3 - I’m UP AND AWAKE AND GONNA PLAY DnD YEAHHHHH!!! I’m very pleased about this. 

Thing #4 - Not relevant yet, though I suspect I will be able to spend at least some time downstairs. 

Other things:

I threw up a few times the first day, but it was weirdly not uncomfortable? It looked sort of clear black (possibly from medicine from the intubation, or stomach acid, or a trick of my eyes, idk, but it was just ginger ale going down, and then ginger ale coming back up. I HATE throwing up but this wasn’t really a stomach heaving or bile tasting experience. It was just... liquid down? Liquid back up. So even though vomiting is horrible, it wasn’t that bad.

The first time I was supposed to pee in the hospital after the surgery, I sat on the toilet for like ten minutes or something before I was able to pee. I have no idea what causes that, because I FELT like I had to and was just about to for the whole time, and finally I pressed a little gently on my belly and it happened? It was weird, but also I know that’s common.

I had a Health Care Proxy form, labeling my parents as my health care proxy’s (if I were unfit to make medical decisions, they would do it for me), but I needed it to be witnessed, and I was stressing a little about it. Apparently that’s super common because they were ready to have the nurses witness it for me, and there was no need for stress.

Taking the binder off makes everything sore and makes me feel totally woozy every time. Less so after a day, but still true. Every time it comes off it’s an Experience. 

When I first started feeling woozy, I told the nurse, and she broke open a little pad with rubbing alcohol on it (like a tiny wet wipe) and held it under my nose, and it COMPLETELY FIXED the woozy feeling. She said it doesn’t help for everybody, but it often does, and it’s a neat trick. And I’ve been using it ever since and BOY HOWDY it sure is a neat fucking trick. Sniff The Rubbing Alcohol = woozy be gone!

I keep forgetting not to reach up and adjust my pillow or scratch my head, and it pulls at stuff and gives me Regrets, but other than THAT I’m surprisingly fine?? I expected to be way more out of it, because I think that’s more common.

Wedge pillows are a godsend, even though I keep slipping down them.

Different doctors have different rules about this, but mine said I can shower tomorrow even though I’ll have the drains in for a full week-- I just have to be careful of the drains. 

I’m gonna tape my hospital bracelet into my notebook.

Honestly the worst part of this whole thing has been that the novacane they put in my sides made my fingers feel like they’d been asleep and were waking up. You know that feeling when a body part falls asleep and is waking up and if somebody touches it it’s Tingly Agony? Both of my thumbs, index fingers, and middle fingers were that. Constantly. For 24 hours. Tingly Fingers is apparently The Worst.

I’ve been lying in bed on two wedge pillows with my regular pillow behind my head (and adding two big pillows as needed when I want to sit up straighter), wearing the binder they gave me and a pajama top, on a towel. No underwear because fuck it. And right now my fiance has set up the lap table with my laptop on it for me in bed so I don’t have to do or lift anything in order to be able to write this.

Sounds like my parents just dropped off the mashed potatoes. 

All is going well!

[mclennunf]

In My Life - Part Three

A/N: im so sorry it took so long for me to post this new part - but please enjoy

Dr. McCartney

"Mr. Kite has stomach cancer, Dr. Lennon."

Dr. Lennon's face was beat red. My heart was racing and I wanted to walk away, but I knew I had to stay put and stand my ground. I had just completely shown up my attending doctor, and I needed him to know that I was strong and wasn't going to take any of his shit. We stared intensely in each other's eyes for what seemed like an eternity. As I stood there, frozen with fear and hoping it was coming off as courage, I noticed his eyes. They were a beautiful light brown, and his eyelashes framed the beautiful shape of his eyes perfectly. I realized how long we had been staring at each other and I quickly cleared my throat and looked back down at the chart. "I suggest we start chemotherapy as soon as possible." I broke the silence and looked back up at Dr. Lennon smugly.

Dr. Lennon cleared his throat, obviously feeling some sort of tension. Apart of me hoped he had felt the same odd tension that I had felt. "You seem to be smug about the fact that one of my favourite patients could be dying of stomach cancer. All because you got a win. I suggest you march your smug little ass in there and explain this illness to Mr. Kite and give him his options. This is on you now, McCartney." Dr. Lennon said in a deep growl of a tone. I now doubted he felt the odd tension. I hadn't had to tell anybody they might be dying before. "We won't know if the cancer is terminal until the tumour is removed, so you'll need to convince him that surgery is his only hope of survival." Dr. Lennon added, crossing his arms and leaning in quite close to me.

"Yes, sir." My stomach tingled as I spoke the words. I told myself it was from my nerves, but I believed it had something to do with those beautiful light brown eyes. He rolled his eyes and walked away from me and into another patients room. I took a few deep breaths before reaching into my pocket and grabbing my phone.

Paul: Hell. Went behind Lennon's back to do a procedure he told me not to do, turns out the patient has cancer. One McCartney, zero Lennon.

Jane: Come over tonight, I wanna hear all about it.

Paul: See you tonight.

I put my phone away and held back a smile. I didn't want people thinking I was some soft resident craving approval from my attending. I had to mentally prepare myself to talk to Mr. Kite.  People his age had a higher risk of complications or death during a serious surgery. This definitely was a serious surgery. Surgery or not, he's risking his life. This was all part of the job, though. I knew this wouldn't be the most difficult thing I'd have to tell someone as a doctor, but that didn't mean it wasn't going to be difficult. I walked into Mr. Kites room and closed the door. "Hi, Mr. Kite," I began, trying to hide the shakiness of my voice. "What's going on, doctor? Cut to the chase." Mr. Kite said trying to sound tough. I could tell he was nervous. Hell, after a procedure like that I would've been nervous about the results too. "Well, Mr. Kite, we found a tumour in your stomach. Unfortunately, there's no way for us to tell if it's terminal until it's removed. That means we'll have to schedule you for surgery. But I want you to know that someone your age does have a higher risk of complication during surgery." I said softly, choosing every word that came out of my mouth with the utmost care and respect. "So, basically what you're saying is, I might die without the surgery and I might die with the surgery?" Mr. Kite asked, his eyes brimming with tears.

I felt my heart begin to beat fast as I nodded, confirming his question in regards to his likelihood to live. "That's correct, sir. But if you'd like my professional opinion, I'd suggest you go with the surgery. Our surgical team here is top notch, and we will take such good care of you... I'm so sorry Mr. Kite. If you need anything at all, please let me know." I said as calmly and collectively as I could. "Please just....just give me a few minutes." Mr. Kite requested. "Take all of the time you need, sir." I said as I stood up and exited the room slowly and silently. I sighed and leaned against the nurses station, rubbing my face. "First death sentence?" I heard Sadie's voice. I looked up and saw her sympathetic face. I half smiled and nodded. "Aw, love." She added and patted my shoulder. "That poor man." I mumbled and rubbed my eyes. "How long have you been here?" Sadie asked me as she began pouring a cup of coffee. "Since 5am yesterday." I yawned. Sadie slid the cup of black coffee into my hand. "Thank you." I said as I blew on it and took a sip. "Jesus, McCartney. Go home." She said as she took the empty cup of coffee I had sucked down away. I nodded. "I suppose I should. Thanks, Sadie." I smiled at her and headed for the doctors lounge.

I changed into my street clothes and threw my scrubs in the large hamper. I carefully put my stethoscope into my locker and locked it up. I leaned on my locker briefly and thought about Mr. Kite. I shook my head. The poor man had to decide which way he may or may not die. "You did a good thing." I heard a low growl. I turned to see Dr. Lennon standing in the door way. I straightened my back and flashed a fake smile. He shut the door and sat down on the bench facing me. He held his hands together and looked up at me with those beautiful light brown eyes. They looked tired. "I know it's difficult, McCartney. But you stood up and did what you thought was best for your patient. Even if it meant disobeying your attendings orders." I was surprised at how calm he had been speaking to me. "Look, about that, I'm sorry." I said, mustering up the courage to sit down beside him. I brushed his shoulder against mine as I sat down, sending a weird feeling shooting throughout my body. We looked at each other for a few moments. "Dr. Lennon, I won't go behind your back again." I said, breaking our eye contact and looking down at my feet. "Call me John." He said softly.

His voice sounded completely different. "You're a good doctor, Paul. You trusted your gut instinct." John observed. I nodded, the fact that he was being kind to me was astonishing. "You're lightyears ahead of the other residents in this hospital. Just don't let it get to your head, okay?" John told me, locking eyes with me again. "Thank you, John." I said quietly, not breaking our eye contact. His eyes were so intense and so soft at the same time. "Ye best not be tellin' the other residents I'm being nice to you. I have a reputation to uphold, y'know." John said. He was blushing. Dr. John Lennon was blushing. Was he? No. He couldn't be. Oh God, I had been staring at him. I laughed to hide my nervousness. "I'll take it to my grave." I joked. He stood up and opened his locker. He shimmied off his white coat and stripped his shirt, grabbing one out of his locker. I found myself staring at his broad shoulders, the strong protruding muscles in his back. I shook my head to snap myself out of it and jumped up, grabbing my bag. "I should go, thanks again John." I said confused and nervously. "D'ye wanna get a pint? There's a pub just across the way." John spun around, still shirtless and fumbling with the black long sleeve shirt in his hands. My eyes and his collar bones were like magnets. I couldn't take my eyes off of them until he slipped the shirt on. "Sure, a pint sounds good." I managed to spit out. I pulled out my phone as he finished gathering his things.

Paul: Gotta cancel.. Going for a pint with Lennon. Just invited me.

Jane: Ouu, sounds like someone has a crush. That's okay though, I had to pick up a shift.

Paul: Don't get me started lol.

"Ready?" John was in front of me, smiling now. I smiled out the side of my mouth and nodded. We exited the hospital into the late afternoon grey sky. John wasn't lying when he said the pub was just across the way, it took us less than 30 steps from the door of the hospital to the two stools in front of the bar. John was obviously a regular, because the man behind the bar flashed him a smile and John held up two fingers. The man nodded and brought us two pints. "So," John began as he took a long swig from his pint. "Where did you go to med school?" He asked. "Quarrybank. Not the nicest of schools, but me Dad never had a lot of money. Rode through school on as many scholarships as I could get." I told him, taking a swig from my own. It felt so nice to taste that pint after all of the shit I had dealt with in the last 24 hours. "Ah, Quarrybank. I went there meself. Not bad at all." John smiled, obviously reminiscing on the memory. "You can't be much older than me, how come I never saw you?" I asked. "I started when I was 18, graduated when I was 21.I'm 26 now,  I'm a bit older than ye, Macca." John said, making me smile at the nickname. "I'm 23 now. So I suppose you would've graduated the year before I started." I observed. John seemed like a completely different person when he didn't have his white coat on.

"23 eh? You seem older." John said, ordering two more pints. "Eh! What's that suppose to mean?" I laughed and touched my face, jokingly checking for wrinkles. John chuckled. "Bugger off, Macca. I just mean that yer very mature and extremely smart." John complimented me. "Ah, you are soft." I laughed and elbowed his arm, feeling that same weird feeling shoot through my body as I touched him. "I said bugger off!" John was literally giggling now. "I'm just observant. I can make pretty good judgement. I had a good idea about you when I met you. You're one of the only residents who isn't struggling. Bloody hell mate," John chucked, "Wait until you have to deal with interns. I swear to God they get stupider every year." He told me. I thought of George. "One of me mates is one of your interns. Harrison." I told him, hoping for a positive response. "Ah Harrison. He's the small one? I think he'll do fine. He's a nervous bugger, though. He'll have to get over that. Gave him a good scare, I did." John chuckled again. I was relieved that he didn't say anything too negative. "I'm not surprised. What's with the tough guy act, anyhow?" I asked, sipping on my third pint. "It's not an act, really. I don't get along with many people, and I want to make sure my interns and residents turn out to be good doctors. Figure the arsehole attending should be able to scare it into them." John told me as he shrugged.

I shrugged as well and finished my pint. "Another?" John asked, waving at the bartender before I could even answer. "I suppose so." I laughed and flashed him a smile, he paused and looked at me. He smiled as I watched his eyes linger on my lips for a few moments before we were interrupted by the bartender replacing our empty glasses with full pints. John held up his pint.

"To you, McCartney. Welcome to Sgt. Peppers." John said, flashing the smile that would soon be imprinted in my mind.