#forever so I never have to confront any difficult situations ever again . Joke .

[nomairuins]

loveee when a character is crushed under the weight of someone elses expectations for them love when a character dedicates their entire life to something they never even wanted for themself love when the only reason a character keeps going is because theyre Supposed to and bc theyre supposed to make another person happy/proud. YES !!! CLAPPING !!! YES !!!!!!!!

[noneofusaresimping]

^Forever and Always

pairing! Min Eunji x f! reader x abusive brother Yoon Gwinam

— Eunji helps Y/n take care of her older brother

warnings! Comfort, no zombies, mentions abuse, fighting, blood, bad writing, mabe death, etc

note! I don't know how Eunji or Gwinam would react in this situation and this is purely for entertainment so LETS GOOOOOOOO

Being Gwinam's younger sister is difficult, especially when you're not blood-related. His parents adopted me when I was four years old, and Gwinam was five when he first met me.

Ever since I was young, I have always been his punching bag, the one to endure his rude jokes and rage. So it was definitely no different for me when we both went to the same high school together.

Although he did become a little nicer to me, I still had to endure the same kind of treatment as the kids he bullied, or so I thought.

I had an okay reputation at school; a lot of kids knew me or didn't know me. Thanks to my brother, I gained most of the negative responses from the students and some of the teachers at the school.

The day my name was changed to Yoon Y/n, I wanted to die. I didn't want to be associated with Gwinam or any of his actions.

I really didn't have many friends, and I was rarely asked to hang out with anyone and their friends. I did talk to some of the students in Ms. Parks's class, like Hyoryung, and some pregnant girl whose name I didn't know, but we weren't close enough for me to call them my friends.

The only people I could call my friends were Hyeonju and Eunji. Hyeonju cared about me even if she seemed like a cold, ruthless bitch who also happened to be a bully, and Eunji still wanted to be near me even after the things my brother had done to her.

Min Eunji was pretty, funny, romantic, and smart, but no one saw that side of her but me. The rest of them were too busy laughing at her being bullied by my asshole of a brother.

Eunji knows I really can't do much about my brother, and she knows how much I try to make him stop without revealing our relationship. 

The last time I confronted Gwinam was two weeks ago. I had talked the plan over with Eunji, and she told me how it would be a bad idea and she didn't want him to hurt me even more.

She was so used to him hurting her that she didn't even care what he did to her, and that's why I'm walking down the street in the rain with her now. I want him to stop. I am going to do everything in my power to make him stop, even if that means he has to die.

"Y/n, what will you do if he hurts you again? I don't want you to have to lie to the police and hospital again. " Eunji asked, wanting me to stop walking and think for a sec.

I stopped walking, turning around. I raised my hand, making her flinch, but she eased, knowing I would never hurt her. I lowered my hand back down, grabbing her hand. 

Her hair was soaked and she just looked at me worriedly, "I don't want you to hurt anymore. I would do anything to make sure you are okay. I love you too much to see you cry anymore. She smiled slightly, kissing me softly. 

"You're so beautiful." She turned red at the compliment and nodded, not wanting to say anything to ruin this moment.

Let's end this. She says, squeezing my hand tightly, as if she let go, she would never see me again. "I will never leave you, no matter what," I said, walking into the small home where I stayed with my adoptive parents and older brother, Gwinam.

It seemed more scary than usual to walk through the door. I grabbed the first thing I saw, which was a glass vase that sat on the counter. I walked around the house on tiptoes, not even removing my filthy shoes, which was so disrespectful even for me.

Eunji stayed close behind me, clinging tightly to my hand. It was dark, the only light coming from Gwinam's room. I peered over, seeing him sitting on his bed, playing around with a blade.

When I turned for only a second to check on Eunji, I was pushed down, my skin pierced with a sharp object. The object was pulled out of me and pushed back into me a few times before the light flickered pontoon Gwinam over me.

This was too evil even for him. "You were going to kill me, huh?" He spat out his eyes, which were dark and filled with a hint of sadness.

I weakly tried to pick up the vase. I dropped it. It was rolling even farther away from me. Then I was blacking out.

I blinked open my eyes and saw Gwinam on top of Eunji. I tried to tell him, but I blacked out again. My eyes blinked open again, seeing Gwinam laying on the ground now and Eunji grabbing the glass vase. She looked at me, wanting to hit him across the face, but didn't want to kill my brother in front of me.

The vase broke across the wall, at which point she threw it while her figure came over trying to lift me up, but my body was too weak and I was dead weight at this point. She groaned loudly, eventually slinging her arm around my waist and pulling us both outside.

The rain hit my body once again, and I sighed with relief. "Will I die?" I laughed sadly, trying to walk at the pace of Eunji's half-run. "Of course not. You'll be fine, I promise. " She lied, not knowing whether I would die or not, given how much blood I'd lost.

She stopped walking, sliding down on a brick wall, me still in her arms. She shook with fear of losing me and from how cold it was.

"I'm sorry, my love." She sobbed, calling me by the pet name she gave me the first time I saw her cry. It meant so much to me during a moment like this, since she only called me it at her worst points in life.

I laughed at her crying face, ignoring the pain in my side. I did this because I love you. Do you love me? " I asked, watching her take off her jacket and my belt, starting to wrap it around my side so I wouldn't bleed out and die.

"Yes, forever and always." She sobbed, holding me tightly. While I tried not to give in to the deep slumber that wanted to fall upon me.

[honeyxchoso]

Promise (fuckboy!Satoru Gojo x reader) (college AU)

warnings: Gojo being a fuckboy who knows his effect on women all too well, MC's declining mental health implied

genre: angst? (sfw)

word count: 1.9k

“Please, just hear me out!” Gojo begged, face contorting into a desperate expression you knew all too well by now.

The scene is just like the numerous ones you’ve experienced in the past few months, all consequential to Satoru Gojo asking you out earlier that year. You should have known better. After all, you’ve been a witness of all of his intimate endeavours throughout high school. It was naive to assume that you would be spared of his promiscuous behaviour and that, somehow, this would be different.

“I promise you it won’t happen again!”

The exclamation just fell on deaf ears. That very promise, which he never fails to make in moments like these, has lost all meaning long ago. The sincerity fading more and more each time it was broken. These conversations, which once used to reduce you to tears, have now lost all meaning they once might have possessed.

All you know is the emptiness you feel resulting from your heart being shattered over and over again, your soul reduced to nothingness. You can no longer cry. You can no longer get mad. You are no longer surprised. Just a shell of the person you once were.

No longer are you even aware of your surroundings, lost in your own mind as Gojo spouted endless dubious apologies and false promises, all of which you’ve heard dozens of times before. How many times have you turned a blind eye so far? How many second chances have you given? How much longer will this go on? You do not know.

How did it come to this?

You and Satoru are first years in an honours programme at Jujutsu college, with you majoring in Biology and him in Physical engineering. Although you had known him since your first year of high school, you two have only gotten close in the summer leading up to your first year at college. During that summer, he’s managed to get closer to you than anyone ever has before. It really isn’t that difficult to imagine considering his flamboyant personality and stunning appearance.

Right now, you were at a cafe, waiting for Mr Perfect to show up for your weekly Math and Chem study session. You chuckle looking at a meme he just texted you. The lovely bastard is fashionably late per usual, but you are somehow never annoyed at that nasty habit of his. Five minutes of texting later, you feel a tap on your shoulder alerting you of Satoru’s arrival. Soon after the tap, you can feel his presence on the left side of your head.

“I think you can kiss heaven goodbye, as it must be a sin to look that good,” he proudly stated right next to you. You gazed to the side with widened eyes and your mouth slightly agape. It was just quick enough for you to catch a glimpse of those gorgeous sky blue eyes of his, mischievously peeking up at you from the pitch-black sunglasses the man always adorned. It truly was a sight to behold. To your great misfortune, however, it was gone as soon as it came, with him rising up to ruffle your hair a bit with his enormous hand before going to sit at the other end of your small table.

You focused on regaining your usual composure, as you’ve grown accustomed to his flirty persona during the summer while observing him picking up girls wherever you went. His sense of humour is just atrocious, but it eventually grew on you also. Despite his provocative behaviour and dirty humour implying he’s still very much immature for anything of the sort, you’ve started harbouring hope that one day, just maybe, he’ll give it a shot for you. Yes, as naive as it was, you couldn’t help but fall for the marvellous man sitting across from you.

You sighed at your inner turmoil and slightly irritably ran a hand through your hair. Satoru, of course, interpreted your reaction as you being annoyed at his borderline foul compliment and the thought elicited a deep, alluring chuckle from him. Slightly shaken from the beautiful sound, you plastered on a smile and looked at him, asking to begin your study session already since he was late again.

Two hours of studying later, you two were walking back to the student dorms on the other end of the campus site making small talk on your way.

“Argh! I hate this unit so much. Why do we have to memorise all the functional groups when it would be so much easier to just look them up in the data booklet during exams? It is so unnecessary!” you cried out, pouting while clenching your fists in exasperation. When Satoru didn’t respond, you relaxed your posture and turned to address him, only to blank out upon seeing the way he was staring at you.

He had a tender look on his face the likes of which you’ve never seen before. His lips formed into a small but genuine smile with his eyes relaxed as he just looked at you. You felt as though he was staring right into your soul. At this point, you both stopped walking instinctively and held your eyes locked wishing for the tender moment to last forever. Satoru was the first to speak up.

He called your name, not breaking eye contact. You just barely took notice of his voice, getting lost in his gorgeous blue eyes during your little moment just now. God, does your name sound good coming from his mouth. You barely had the common sense at this point to utter out a small “Hm?” and no notion whatsoever of what was yet to come.

“Would you like to go out with me sometime?”

You were baffled. The person you’ve been crushing on for months now just asked you out. You. Little old insignificant you. Too startled to form a coherent response, you replied with the only concern you had. “Me?”

After all, you were a nobody. You’ve seen the women who talk to him on a daily basis. The perfect height, athletic, well-adorned in all sorts of jewellery and fancy clothes, makeup perfectly done and never a single strand of hair out of place - those were the type of women surrounding Satoru Gojo. Compared to them, you were the lowest of the low. Your face contorted into one of confusion before your eyes started tearing up. This must be a joke...

That was only in the few seconds leading up to Satoru bursting out in a tear-inducing laugh. This did well to break you out of your small trance, sobering up a little before becoming even more confused. He asked you out, and now he’s laughing about it? Is this man in his right senses? You don’t recall him having any alcoholic beverages at the cafe so it can’t be. He stopped laughing soon after and used the tip of his right-hand sleeve to wipe away his tears.

“Of course it’s you, silly! It’s 10pm. We’re the only ones here right now!” he exclaimed, giggling a bit throughout forming his sentence still. This only served to confuse you even more. It must be a joke, then.

“You’re joking,” you voiced your thoughts. At this, his formerly happy expression fell and formed into one of concern.

“How could I be?” he asked. Seeming genuinely concerned as to why you’d think that. His eyebrows furrowed and his lips formed an unusual frown. “How could I ever joke about something like that? You have no clue what you mean to me, Y/N.” You could tell from his expression that he was being sincere, making you falter. Your face seemed to be enough of a response for him to continue speaking.

“You are honestly the best person I have ever met. You are strong and independent despite everything life has thrown at you. You are smarter than anyone I know. You have an amazing sense of humour and are a great listener. You’ve always been there for me when I needed you most. Along with being a good person, you also make me a better person myself. You fulfil me. Without you, I feel my very existence would be meaningless.” All the while saying this, he hasn’t broken eye contact once. “So I will ask you once again, Y/N, will you go out with me?

Following that evening, the two of you were in a happy relationship.

So how did it turn into this?

You first noticed something was wrong when you saw him dancing really close with a girl at a college party. He had his left hand low on her waist and his other hand entangled in her hair, bringing her closer so he could lean into her neck. It was just an embrace, right? Perhaps she was his friend who needed comfort of some sort? These are the excuses you made for yourself at the time to console the slight pang of concern and betrayal felt upon witnessing that scene. You never confronted him about that. At the time, you told yourself that was because there was no issue to address but reflecting on that moment now, you know it was the fear of your suspicion being proven right that discouraged you from bringing it up.

This happened about an additional five or six times before you started acting a bit more adverse to Satoru’s usual affection. You would no longer initiate kisses and would become stiff in his embrace. It was mortifying to know he was behaving so naturally around you when you know he’s off with other women when he thinks you aren’t looking. Despite this, the relationship was maintained as your love for him didn’t falter.

After a while, his endeavours would cause arguments. He would argue the women were coming onto him, that he was drunk or anything of the sort, just to get out of the situation, and you would argue he was fully aware of his promiscuous behaviour. These arguments would always end in forgiveness and the movie would rewind yet again. That is what led you where you are now. Your forgiving nature backfired and your feelings for the man were constantly extorted.

Sometimes, enough is enough.

It is time to put a stop to this neverending loop your relationship has turned into.

“Stop,” Satoru was still pleading for forgiveness when you interrupted him mid-sentence. Your simple exclamation seemingly pausing time, as it was the first word you have uttered in this conversation so far. Gojo looked at you anxiously, hope evident in his eyes that you would forgive him. Oh, how you loved those eyes of his, full of deceit.

“I’ve had enough. I’ve given you far too many chances and have been disappointed every time without fail. It is time for both of us to admit to ourselves that this won’t work. Not the way it is now.”

Despite your calm exterior, your previously empty inside now felt a sharp, anxious pain. No one said it was going to be easy. While the fear of change is strong, you know this is the right thing to do. Fear can bring no actual harm, but this relationship has and will continue to do so if you don’t put a stop to it. It is time.

“Goodbye, Satoru Gojo.”

[itjazzbicch]

Bulletproof Love

Pairing:  Santana x Fem Reader

Summary: With Blood and Guts on the horizon, The Inner Circle and The Pinnacle are at each others throats. The Pinnacle loves playing mind games, getting to Santana the most whenever they mention his girl, the reader, which makes him angry and more. Those same reactions paass on to the reader and not only does she stand up to the Pinnacle, she makes sure Santana knows that she's not going anywhere...

Warnings:  N/A

Requested by:  Anon (whoever you are, I hope you enjoy!)

Word Count:  1954

Tag List: @demonqueen29 @jessiebean00 @new-zealand-chic @crowleysqueenofhell @justamess44 @thatpanpal @hungmanhorsecarriage @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch​  @linziland13 @yungbludjazz360

I DO NOT OWN THIS GIF

"You're stepping into my world!" Dax yelled into the microphone, "And I ain't afraid to die!"

In my opinion, this whole rivalry with MJF and the Pinnacle has gotten out of hand. It was horrible and this Blood and Guts match coming up wasn't a joke or something to be taken lightly

I have been a part of the Inner Circle since AEW started. As Santana's girl, I was always by his side and the rest of the Inner Circle, but this time, I was beyond worried for all of them, especially Santana.

He asked me to stay backstage during their confrontation. That's when all of the nerves came at me hard. I always went out there with them. We wrestled matches together. I was a daredevil too so there were times when I got some spotlight. They all agreed that I would have no parts in this match. I understand that they were just trying to protect me, but at the same time, it worried me.

''You boys, you have a lot in your life. This match, it's going to change that. Hell, it's changing now. For example, where's your girl, Santana?" Dax sighed, smiling because he knew it would get under Santana's skin.

Watching backstage, I immediately got pissed off and worried. Santana tossed his sunglasses off and there was a crazed look in his eyes. Thankfully, Ortiz was able to hold him back, that becoming a more difficult task whenever Dax continued:

"You had a pretty amazing woman, man! She was even fighting with you guys, but do you realize a particular part of what I said? You HAD. You don't realize it, but she's going to be moving on to bigger and better things when my boy, Cash finally seals the deal and steals your girl. Not only that, but whenever Blood and Guts is over, she won't have a man to come home to."

It took Ortiz and Jake to hold Santana back. He didn't want to wait and they made sure no one could hear what he was saying. It was not safe for television, but I didn't blame him one bit. If I was out there, I would have slapped both of them silly. The only reason he even mentioned me was that Santana and Ortiz beat them. They tried to use me to get the advantage and failed.

Right after I heard what Dax said, I went straight to the guerrilla. By the time I got there, Chris and MJF were having their little standoff. Thankfully, it didn't take long for them to finish up and Inner Circle exited first.

The moment I saw Santana come backstage, I ran to him, hugging him. I gave him the best hug I could and he did return it, but something felt off. His body was limp almost and I tried to make him feel better whenever I whispered to him:

"Baby, please don't let what he said get to your head."

Santana was in a different state of mind, just patting my back and walking away. The fact that he did that almost made me cry.

"Y/N, you know it's not you," Ortiz said to me, trying to calm me down, "Just give him some time to cool down. You know how he is sometimes."

There were tears in my eyes. The Pinnacle was pissing me off to no end and I couldn't do a damn thing about it. At that moment, I threw all of that out of the window. I noticed they haven't exited yet.

I pushed my way past Ortiz, taking a microphone on the table right by the stairs to the stage. They didn't even bother to stop me, cameras still rolling whenever I got to the stage. MJF was the first to spot me, adding to my anger when he said:

"Aww, you came to join us already?"

"At work, I try to keep my composure, but you all have been testing me!" I groaned, getting right in all of their faces, "You all want to push me out of this situation because I'm a woman, but don't get it twisted. I've been in the Inner Circle since day one and have accomplished more than any woman here!"

For once, everyone was silent, listening to what I had to say and I didn't stop there, making sure I got in Dax and Cash's faces, saying:

"Woman or not, I ain't afraid to get into that Blood and Guts match. I will get my ass in there and beat every one of you like the bitches that you are! And you want to get to my man by mentioning me? Cash, you're going to steal me?"

Dax and Cash started laughing with MJF and Shawn, thinking it was a joke, but I quickly put the seriousness back into the situation whenever I slapped Cash right across the face.

"You look at me when I'm talking to you," I growled, getting straight to the point, "Dax was right. I am an amazing woman, but I can't move onto bigger and better things when I have the most amazing man on this earth by my side!"

Everyone loved what I was saying, supporting Santana, finishing with, "When Blood and Guts is over with, nothing is going to change. I am still going to go back to the man I love, the Inner Circle will always be on top and you all are still going to be some jobber bitches! Don't forget, I am a part of the Inner Circle too and next time you want to say something about me, say it to my damn face."

The microphone dropped hard whenever I walked away, Ortiz and the guys still waiting for me.

"Holy shit," I heard Sammy whisper, they were honestly a little scared from how pissed off I was.

"Where's Santana?" I snapped, all of them jumping when they heard the sound of my voice.

"He went towards the football field," Jake quickly answered and I left them at that, storming off to the football field.

As Jake said, that's where Santana was, sitting in the stands, his elbows propped up on his knees and his legs were shaking like hell. My anger was still up high and I didn't mean to sound mean whenever I said to Santana:

"So, you're not going to talk to me?"

"You know I am pissed off right now," Santana murmured, but I hit him with:

"And you think I'm not!? You didn't even see what I just did!"

Quickly, his head shot up, looking directly into my eyes, saying, "What did you do?"

"I put them little boys in their place. That's what I did!" I informed him, "I am sick of being left out of this shit. I will not let anyone get away with saying something about me and my man. You know I don't roll that way, Santana."

Santana covered his head with his hands, even more, frustrated and it made me frustrated too. He had every right to be angry, but he wasn't just frustrated. It was like he was scared of something, extremely insecure.

"Why are you being like this?" I asked, finally calming down with a deep breath, "I know you're angry. You have every right to be, but it's like you're scared or something. You know how much I love you. I wouldn't trade you for the world, baby. What he said is getting to you and it shouldn't be."

"Because," Santana groaned, standing up, "How would you feel if a girl tried stealing me?"

"Don't get me wrong, I'd probably try to beat her up," I chuckled, "But at the same time, I really wouldn't worry because you're loyal. You have always been loyal to me; I trust you and I know you would never just leave me."

Santana just got quiet, nothing to say after that, turning around so that he was facing the football field.

"Are you questioning my loyalty or something?" I asked, getting emotional again and he turned back to me, noticing how this was making me feel, near tears when I barely got out, "After everything you been through and you think that I would just leave you?"

"No!" Santana exclaimed, "You know-"

"I don't think I know," I cried, cutting him off, "I have never got such mixed feelings from you. Any time we hit a roadblock, we plow through it and keep on being happy. Why is this different?"

Finally, I was able to get him to tell me his true feelings, Santana looking at the ground, whispering, "Sometimes, I can't help but feel like you're too good for me and that someone may take you away, just because I'm not good enough."

"Are you crazy?" I chuckled, smiling through some tears, "Since you didn't hear what I said out there, I'll gladly say it again."

For me, it felt like forever, but I was able to get all of the bad and crazy emotions to go away. I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding his head, telling him:

"They were right. I am an amazing woman, but I can't move onto 'bigger and better things when I have the most amazing man walking this earth by my side."

My words put a big smile on Santana's face, growing whenever my thumb stroked his cheek, bringing his head to mine when I whispered, "When Blood and Guts is over, I am still going to have the man I love. I'm not going anywhere and never will. By your side is where I will always be. I love you with all my heart and soul, Santana."

A tear rolled down my cheek, but I was so happy whenever he wrapped one arm around my neck, the other around my waist, my face on his chest whenever he hugged me, keeping me close and not letting me go. It was just so comforting, so full of love and I never wanted to leave his arms, just stay in his sweet embrace.

"I love you too, baby," Santana whispered in my ear, "I'm sorry I reacted that way."

"Trust me, I wanted you to beat him up," I whispered, making the both of us laugh, "But don't worry. I have you, you have me and no one or nothing will ever change that. I promise you that."

"I won't ever doubt it," Santana smirked, picking his head up, mine following his, smiles on both of our faces.

"You know I don't break promises," I cooed, kissing his cheek, but I got a lot more in return.

Thank goodness he was holding me or I would have stumbled, his lips smacking into mine. That's not what he intended and I was perfectly fine with it because his kiss was like nothing I have ever experienced.

He kissed me hard at first, but it ended up being so soft and heartfelt, savoring every single element, from the touch of our lips, our bodies against one another, his scent filling my brain, all of the love he had for me, I could feel every drop of it and it sure was a lot. I made sure I gave all of that back to him, double confirming everything that I told him; another happy tear falling down my cheek when he kissed me softly one more time, keeping his head against mine.

"Don't cry, baby," He cooed, stroking my cheek, thumb poking at my smile when I said:

"I just love you so damn much."

"Like you said," He smirked, looking deeply into my eyes, planting a kiss on my lips, "We have each other and that will never change."              

[osomagine-san]

Matsu bro’s dealing with the death of their S/O? How would they cope?

Well, we already know that Osomatsu has some mild problems with dissociation. 

They probably skyrocket after his S/O dies-- they made him feel like he was a real person, not the “default” sextuplet. They helped him realize so many things about himself and grow, and he couldn’t picture himself without them. He jumps back and forth between going back to how he was before you-- nosing in on his brothers’ lives and trying to insert himself as much as possible-- and shutting himself alone in a room for days on end without contacting anyone.

It’s primarily Choromatsu and Todomatsu that help him snap out of it the most. Todomatsu has a no-nonsense and cutthroat approach, which forces Osomatsu to be honest while he talks about how alone he feels even in a room with his brothers, and how he hates that he’s gone back to who he was before without you, but he just doesn’t know how to act anymore, and he’s so tired. Choromatsu provides a surprising amount of emotional support, and lets his oldest brother cry a bit on his shoulder. He suggests that Osomatsu maybe see a therapist about this, and Todomatsu has the connections to set that up. 

He’d hurt a lot at first, but he’d eventually be okay. He probably wouldn’t seek out another proper S/O for at least a long time, but he has needs. He knows that you wouldn’t want it to hold him back forever, so he does his best not to let that happen.

Karamatsu is rather lost, but he’s quick to realize that he’s better for having known his S/O. He’s a bit more self-confident in a real way, embracing his dorkier side and using English half as a joke and half because he just likes it.

It’s hard at first, because he keeps reaching out for their hand only to find that they’re not there. He checks his voicemails, hoping that they’ll have called to explain why they aren’t around, but there’s nothing there. His brothers tread a little too lightly around him, and that upsets him, too. He just wants things to go back to normal, but “normal” is different. The change is hard, too.

He ends up mumbling to you under his breath every so often. When his brothers are rude to him, a small, “[S/O’s name], are you hearing this?” before he sticks up for himself. It’s really hard at first, but he can look back on the time they spent together and tell people (mainly Chibita, while drunk and rambling) how great his S/O was before they were taken from him.

It’s not very noticeable, at first, how Choromatsu grieves, but it soon becomes apparent that he’s a lot more particular. He keeps the house immaculate, cleaning over and over and over and never letting his mind rest for even a second. He somehow, finally, manages to land a job-- he isn’t coming off as over-eager because he’s trying not to let his mind wander.

It isn’t any particular moment that triggers the sudden breakdown in front of his brothers. They were just talking, and Choromatsu didn’t have enough to do with his hands while they did, but his face was suddenly wrinkled up with tears liberally pouring. He tries to apologize to his brothers, because of course he would only break down when all of them were present. Of course something like this couldn’t happen when he was alone, again, in bed, waiting to fall asleep.

“I feel like it’s my fault,” he cries. For not being there with them. For not knowing sooner. For making it to the hospital too late. Not saying goodbye; not being good enough, yet, for God to decide that he deserved someone like them, and taking them away to punish him. He can’t articulate this, because he knows it doesn’t make any logical sense-- but feelings don’t very often, do they?

A lot of the brothers breathe a sigh of relief when he starts to cry-- they were worried about him. They could all tell that he was bottling up his feelings, but they’re glad that he’s letting them out, now. They’re there for him. They’ll make fun of him a little bit, but when they do, he smiles a bit. That’s just how his brothers are.

It takes a while for Ichimatsu to be found after his S/O dies. He ran away from home, and lived on the streets with the alley cats for almost a month. He was bone-thin when he came home, with the darkest bags anyone had seen on him.

It was actually, surprisingly, Iyami that convinced him to go back home. There were a lot of motivations behind it, such as, as soon as Ichimatsu started living on the streets, a lot of the garbage food became much more scarce; and Ichimatsu was always so depressing-looking, it really brought down the already-sad vibe of underneath the bridge. Either way, the surprising wisdom that Iyami held came in the form of laughter.

“It’s my fault...” Ichimatsu had been saying, to finish up his story. “I should have been there... they were my S/O, and I couldn’t even...”

It was then that Iyami burst out laughing.

“Why are you laughing?!” Ichimatsu drew more into himself. He needed some sympathy, but he should have known better than to confide his truest feelings in someone like him...

“How could you possibly think that?!” Iyami responded. Tears poured from his eyes-- this was so funny to him. “How could you think that [S/O’s name]’s death was because you didn’t do something?!” He calmed himself down, wiping tears from his eyes, but couldn’t stop the occasional snicker. “How would you have known that would even have stopped it from happening? Karamatsu, you’re stupider than I thought.”

“I’m Ichimatsu.”

What a horrible way to phrase something like that, he thought. But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Somehow, it was exactly what he needed to hear to face his family, again.

The next morning, the few things he’d had with him were packed away and gone.

It wasn’t the first time Jyushimatsu had lost a S/O, but by god, was it the worst. The sunshine boy had little sun left in him-- it had turned into a raging fire. His high school self would be envious.

Despite the newfound and juvenile anger he now held, he found that he no longer had an outlet for it. Everything reminded him of his S/O, and unfortunately, that included baseball. He spent his pent-up energy breaking things. It started small with glasses, plates, vases; Matsuyo chastised him for this, which only made him feel worse and angrier. He knocked them over onto the ground, like a cat, but sometimes when he just needed to feel something, he would use a little more force. Nothing particularly scary-- it became an annoyance after a while.

Of course, he would never hurt anybody. It came close, though, when he came into a confrontation with Choromatsu (who was sick and tired of checking the floor for glass shards before walking anywhere). Todomatsu stuck up for Choromatsu, saying that they wouldn’t take being bullied anymore. They all got it, he was upset, but the way he’d been handling it was totally unhealthy. He needed to get help or get out. A vase flew right past Todomatsu’s head, not because it had been thrown at him, but because it had been thrown at all. Todomatsu’s front came crumbling down, and he started crying.

“Get your shit together.” Choromatsu glowered, and the glare shot through Jyushimatsu.

That was when Jyushimatsu also started crying. He almost hurt someone-- he’d almost hurt his little brother! How could he do that? It was absolutely the first time he had ever come close to hurting someone, and he never, ever, ever, wanted it to happen again.

Totty muttered something snide about how crying wouldn’t get him out of this situation, but Matsuyo came running. She watched her baby boy, her happy Jyushimatsu, turn angry and act out. Hearing him cry triggered all of her motherly instincts and she held him tightly. She wouldn’t take his breaking things sitting down, but she knew why he was upset and didn’t know how to help him get better.

As a family, the eight of them sat down and talked about how they could better support Jyushimatsu during this difficult time. And slowly, Jyushimatsu got back to smiling and swinging his bat in the park again-- starting and ending with a few small words to honour you before getting to it.

[TW: Mentions of suicidal thoughts. Also I’m so sorry that this one is so much longer than the others-- my Todomatsu Boy is showing ;;]

Two-faced Todomatsu, on the outside, seemed like he refused to accept your death. When his brothers, or anyone, asked about his S/O, he pretended like he had no idea who they were talking about. Sometimes he’d let small things slip like, “They sound really cute... Maybe you’d set me up?”, but otherwise, radio silence from him about it. Even his sleep didn’t seem to be too disturbed.

The first hint to getting through to him about the incident was the fact that Choromatsu noticed that he was no longer being woken up at night to help Todomatsu to the bathroom. When Choromatsu brought it up, the other four said that they hadn’t been asked, either.

The second was that suddenly, Todomatsu was always on his phone, and never let his brothers peer over his shoulder. Him and Osomatsu used to often watch videos online, and that was a habit that Todomatsu not only cut out, but pretended as though it never happened in the first place.

The third was that he started leaving the house less and less. He stopped going to mixers with Atsushi (to the point he even came over to their house to see if he was alright), and gradually started doing less and less until he pretty much never left the house.

It went on for months like this. Soon, most dropped the idea that there was something wrong with Todomatsu. Other than those behaviours, he was acting totally normal, if not a little bit stir-crazy.

Osomatsu caught him one night, though. Todomatsu had tossed and turned a while in their futon, and eventually gave up sleeping and got up and went to the bathroom. Osomatsu hadn’t gotten any sleep at all, and suddenly remembered that Todomatsu used to always ask for help with that. He kind of assumed that he’d started holding it overnight, but clearly that wasn’t the case.

Osomatsu followed Todomatsu quietly, and leaned his ear up against the closed bathroom door.

“...[S/O’s name]?” A sniffle. “I hope your day was good. I didn’t leave the house, again. I... I know I should, I know you want me to, but I can’t, yet. I don’t know when I’ll be able to. I’m sorry.” His voice broke as he continued. “I miss you so much. I hope I get to see you again, soon. I’ve been thinking about it again... I don’t think I’ll do it, but who can tell the future?” A sob. “I miss you so much. I wish you were here. I wish we were together.” He cried for a while, to himself. Even Osomatsu felt like he was intruding. With a sniffle, Todomatsu finished. “...Okay, well... I won’t keep you any longer, tonight. Have a good sleep, wherever you are, okay? Goodnight. I love you.” Aishiteru.

Osomatsu should have left. He felt intensely like he should never have heard that, and he was aware that if even he knew that, then maybe all the more so. Todomatsu remained in the bathroom for a few more minutes-- Osomatsu heard the sink running a bit-- before he stepped out.

The eldest sextuplet had been frozen in place, so he was right up close to the door. The pair stared at each other for a long time.

“O-Osomatsu-niisan...” Todomatsu said quietly. His tone was indecipherable.

“Todomatsu.”

The pair of them didn’t speak, but moved silently together. Neither of them really knew what the other wanted, but they found themselves sitting on the roof, together.

Osomatsu didn’t quite know what to say. He wasn’t any good at this kind of thing... Literally any of their other brothers would be better off in this position, or would be able to say something helpful right then.

“Did you... How much did you hear?” Todomatsu finally asked. His voice was barely louder than a whisper.

“All of it,” Osomatsu replied. Totty flinched back at that. “Or, um, none of it. I just had to take a dump.” 

Another silence passed between them. It was like the pair of them were sharing a mind, because they both were thinking, That was a stupid-ass thing to say.

The silence went on for so long, that eventually Todomatsu stood.

“We should get back inside before they notice,” he said. He grinned at his oldest brother the way he always does.

“Is that why we don’t watch together, anymore?” Osomatsu asked. This was probably his only shot at seeing Todomatsu so real, right now.

Todomatsu’s face fell, and he sat back down.

“You don’t... want me to see... the voicemails?” His voice comes and goes as he tries to puzzle it out.

“No, I just... I mean, yes, that’s part of it.” The wind blows through their hair. The night is completely quiet, as if it, too, was waiting for Todomatsu’s heart to pour. “I don’t want... to be seen. I don’t want you to see what I’m doing, or what I’m watching, or who I’m following or who’s following me. I just want something all to myself. I want me all to myself. Not that you could ever understand that.”

They talked for a while. Though his voice wavered, Todomatsu didn’t cry. The topic of conversation started at that night and ranged through the skies and the heavens before making its way back down to Earth. Todomatsu didn’t really say how he was feeling, but Osomatsu offered his ear if he ever needed to talk.

“And I mean it,” he said, “say the word and I’m there. I’ll lose one hundred thousand dollars at pachinko if you need me.”

“No, don’t do that!” Todomatsu shoved him playfully. “If you’ve got that much money in pachinko, I can wait!”

“Nope, if you need me, I can be drowning in the middle of the ocean, but if you need me, I’ll cut that shit right out and I will be there.”

“You’re so mushy tonight, Osomatsu-niisan!” Todomatsu laughed, something real that he hadn’t heard in a while.

“So are you!”

They laughed a bit, together.

“But seriously. If you need me, I’m there. This is not a request. Got it?”

Todomatsu laughed a bit. “Got it.”

[heyyyharry]

Drunk Harry calls Y/N up to tell her he loves her, but he accidentally calls the wrong number

(from the Flatmate Series)

This happened after the iconic moment in the chapter "Does He Know" in book 1, and before the chapter "Be Here" (in which Y/N finally got to hear Harry say he loved her, and ironically, he also said it on the phone when he was drunk haha 😂)

.

.

.

“The party sucks, let’s go to the club, bitches!”

“To the club!”

“No, Harry, stay!” Niall caught his best friend’s arm and pulled him back down on the sofa. 

Layla raised an eyebrow as the boys burst out laughing. “Why is he already wasted? We just got here,” she asked, pointing to Harry.

“He’s going through a phase,” Liam said.

“A phase?” Layla scoffed, putting her hands on her hips. “Lemme guess. It’s that girl again?”

“She has a name!”

“Okay, drunk Romeo. Calm the fuck down.” Layla raised her hands as she sat down next to him.

Before she could ask, Trix quickly got her updated on what she’d just missed, “Y/N went out with a guy and Harry got upset.”

“So your potential girlfriend is someone else’s girlfriend now?”

“Layla.”

“What? I’m just trying to catch up.” Layla flipped her hair over her shoulder, glaring at Louis. 

It was only then that Harry spoke, “she didn’t like the guy. And...and I think...she might have told me that she liked me...”

“You should be happy then. It’s good.”

“No, it’s not!” Harry grumbled at Niall, his eyelids fluttered as he tried to keep both eyes open. “I don’t think I’m ready...I don’t...don’t want to hurt her, because I will...But when the next guy comes, she might like him back! And then...and then I’ll...I’ll lose her forever.”

“That’s a little dramatic.”

“It’s easier for you to say, Layla. You’ve never been in love!” Harry grumbled, making Layla turn to look at Niall, who was too concerned with Harry to notice that. 

Thinking for a second, she heaved a sigh and tugged at Harry’s sleeve so he would look at her.  “Listen, dumbass,” she said. “Alcohol is not gonna solve your problem. You’re gonna lose her anyway.”

“Layla--”

“Shut up, Louis! I’m speaking!” 

Louis’ mouth clamped shut and Layla continued, “if I were you, I’d finally grow some balls and--”

“And tell her how you feel!” 

“No!” She shot Trix a death glare. “I was gonna say, move out of the flat.”

“What?!” Niall pushed Layla’s hand off Harry, his face scrunched up. “Why are telling him to move out? What’s wrong with you?”

“I never like that girl.”

“Who the fuck cares if you like her or not?!”

“Stop it!” Harry shouted and grabbed their hands, squeezing them tightly. “I’m gonna tell her how I feel!”

“Yay!” Trix excitedly applauded, but everyone else was frozen in their seat.

“That’s great, right?” Liam was the first to react. “You should totally do that, mate!”

“Y-Yeah. I’m with you,” Louis reluctantly punched the air, faking a grin as he gave Layla a nudge to remind her not to say something mean. But before she could even come up with a response, Harry pulled out his phone and immediately made a call.

“Oh my god, someone stop him!” Layla cried out. 

“Harry, give me the phone.” Niall stood up when Harry jumped away from the sofa. “You don’t want to do this when you’re drunk. Trust me.”

“Hello, Y/N?”

“Shit!” 

Ignoring his friends’ reactions, Harry rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm and chuckling happily when he heard the female voice. “Hey, it’s H...I-I’m sorry if I woke you up...”

“I can’t watch this,” Layla breathed, burying her face into her palms. 

Niall, Liam, and Louis were on the edge of their seats while Trix was smiling as big as she would every time she was watching a Disney movie’s happy ending. Harry, however, didn’t even remember they were there. 

“I just want to say that...I-I love you and we should be together...” he whispered into the phone, but was loud enough for his friends to hear every word. “I’m sorry I waited too long to say this...but...but I don’t...don’t want to lose you...I-I want to take care of you...”

“I’m feeling major secondhand embarrassment right now,” Layla said, and everyone but Trix nodded their head to agree.

“You don’t have to answer me right away. Just...just think about it, okay? Okay. Goodnight and...and I love you,” he slurred, laughing drunkenly and putting his phone away with a huge grin on his face. Then, he flopped back down on the couch and snuggled into Niall’s arms, drifting off right on the spot. 

Everyone was still processing what they had just heard and witnessed. It took them almost a minute to break the silence.

“He’s not gonna remember this, is he?”

“Nope.” Niall blew out his cheeks as he agreed with Layla. “I can’t bring him back to his flat like this. He needs to be sober when he talks to Y/N in the morning.”

“Do you think she’ll reject him?” Liam asked.

“Of course not!” Trix said quickly. “I don’t know if any of you noticed, but every time Harry looked away, Y/N would look at him and vice versa. Trust me, I know love when I see it. Just like how Layla looked at Niall earlier.”

Everyone turned to Layla, who widened her eyes in shock. “What?! I looked at Niall because he pissed me off, alright?”

“What did I do?!”

“Whatever.” She waved him off and got up, pointing to Harry. “Just take him back to your place or something. He might need emotional support in the morning.”

.

.

.

“I did WHAT?!” 

Harry held his head and collapsed onto Niall’s bed. The hangover was already killing him, but it was nothing compared to what his best friend had just told him. His head hurt so bad, and he couldn’t remember anything at the party last night. He wished Niall was joking, but he knew for certain that his best friend wouldn’t joke about something like this.

“Do you want me to repeat what you told her.”

“Oh no, please don’t!” 

Niall took a deep breath and began anyway, “I just want to say that I love you and we should be together...”

“Fuck!” 

“I’m sorry I waited too long to say this, but I don’t want to lose you.”

“Shoot me now!” He covered his face with a pillow as Niall went on.

“I want to take care of you. You can answer me in the morning. Good night and I love you. And, scene!”

Harry immediately sat up and grabbed Niall’s shoulders. “You have got to help me! Tell her it was a prank, a dare, whatever. Just make something up!”

“I wouldn’t lie if I were you.”

“Why not?!”

Niall calmly took Harry’s hands and put them back on his knees. “If you told the truth and then said it was a lie, then when you're ready, you won’t be able to tell her the truth anymore.”

“But I won’t ever be ready...”

“You don’t know that.” Niall gave a shrug, pursing his lips. 

Harry sighed into his palm, but after a moment of thinking, he nodded his head. “You’re right though. Maybe I should own up to it.”

“That’s my boy!” Niall burst out laughing and stood up, pulling Harry with him but Harry didn’t budge. “What now, H?”

“Can I...um...stay here one more night? I’m not--”

“No, Harold! Get up!”

“No, wait! Give me an hour then!”

“Fuck no!”

Harry tossed his head back, shouting and kicking like a little boy as Niall dragged him on the floor out of the flat.

.

.

.

Harry felt as if he and Niall had just teleported to his flat. One minute he was forced into Niall’s car, and the next one, they had arrived at his place. He would give anything to delay this confrontation, but now he was already standing outside his flat and Niall was guarding the lift so he wouldn’t run away.

Giving his best friend one last look, Harry pulled out his key to open the door. His heart was pounding so hard it was difficult to breathe. But before he could unlock it, the door was pulled open and Y/N appeared, looking surprised to see him.

“H-Hi.” He smiled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hi,” was all she said. But why was she so relaxed? If he was her, he would have been either angry or shy after that phone call. She was too chilled about this. And Y/N could never keep her composure in this kind of situations.

“Oh, hey, Niall! What are you doing over there?” Y/N said, but Niall stayed right where he was, awkwardly waving back at her. 

“What’s up with the two of you?” She breathed out a laugh, looking even more confused now.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and sucked in a breath as he told himself, here goes nothing. He finally gathered his courage to take her hands and press them against his chest. Her eyes were wide with shock, but she was too stiff to move.

“About last night, I...um...I just want to say that--” he stuttered, struggling to find the right words but his mind was completely empty. 

Lucky for him, she could see that and decided to interrupt. “It’s okay.” She pressed her lips into a smile. “I know, H.”

As she said those words and her fingers slipped out of his, Harry’s heart nearly stopped for he thought she was going to turn him down. He’d had one chance and he’d blown up and she’d probably changed her mind by now. 

But then, Y/N said, “I know you spent the night at Niall’s.”

“I can explain--Wait, what?!” Harry squinted his eyes at the girl who looked utterly ignorant as she let out a soft laugh.

“I know you feel guilty about not telling me you’d stay out last night. But don’t worry, I was too tired to wait for you so I went to bed early.”

“Oh...” His mouth formed a small circle as he paused for a second. “But...you didn’t...get a call or something at around 2 AM?”

“No.” She shook her head, her eyebrows furrowed. “You know I put my phone on airplane mode when I sleep, right? I wouldn’t have known if you’d called me. Wait, did you call me?”

“Holy shit,” he cursed under his breath and released her hands immediately. 

Niall rushed to his side, quickly apologized to interrupt and pulled Harry away from Y/N. “If it wasn’t her, then who did you confess your love to last night?” Niall whispered to his best friend, whose face was entirely pallid.

Harry hurriedly pulled out his phone to check his recent calls. But before he could even unlock the screen, his sister’s name appeared. 

He exchanged looks with Niall before answering it. “Hello?” 

“Have you told her?” Gemma's unexpected question caught him by surprise.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, giving Y/N a fake smile which was suspicious as hell, but the girl didn’t seem to bother as she walked back into the flat.

“Y/N.” Gemma giggled. “Have you finally told her how you felt?”

“Shit. Did I call you?”

“Yes, dumbass.”

“Shit, shit, shit!”

“I was with mum and Robin so I put you on speaker.”

Harry smacked his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Was it Gemma?” Niall asked.

“Yup.” He gave a single nod. “Gemma, my mum, and my stepdad, actually.”

“Oh, shit...” Niall covered his mouth, but from the look on his face, Harry knew he was trying his best not to laugh and embarrass him even more.

“So did you tell her already?” His sister sounded enthusiastic and probably wouldn’t give up until he gave her a proper answer.

“Not yet.”

“Why?”

“It’s none of your business!” He huffed and shoved his hand into his hair. “Just...forget about last night, okay? And please don’t quote it back to me. Niall did it already.”

“Actually, I’m feeling like doing it right now,” Gemma said as she cleared her throat to impersonate a drunk Harry. “Hey, I didn’t wake you, did I? I just want to say that I love you and I want us to be together--”

He immediately ended the call, letting go of the longest sigh as he massaged his temples and put his phone back into his pocket.

“Well, at least it wasn’t one your hookups,” Niall said, making Harry snort.

“Y/N is on my favourite contact list and so is Gemma. I must have called her by accident.”

“So now what? Are you gonna tell her?”

“I still don’t think I’m ready yet,” he breathed, his eyebrows knitted together. “But when I finally do it, I will not do it on the phone, especially when I’m drunk.”

Oh well, little did he know...

[clairecrive]

“Dear Alfie,”- Alfie Solomons fanfiction

Chapter 5 - “Alfie’s letter”

Finally, we read Alfie’s letter! I’ll admit that I was so scared bc we all know that Alfie has a very singular way of talking but I did my best and I hope you like this. Let me know what you think! I’m open to any suggestions regarding the story.

Tag list: @deaflikehawkeye​ @mollybegger-blog​ @br0ck-eddie​ @shadow-of-wonder​ @fandom–0verdose​ @innerpaperexpertcloud​ @evelynshelby​ (let me know if you wanna be added)

Chapter 1| Chapter 2| Chapter 3| Chapter 4| Chapter 5

                                                                                           Camden Town, London

                                                                                                          April 22, 1904

Dear Clara,

there has never been a day where I’ve been more grateful for the bastard that invented ink and paper to have lived. As resolute as ever, my lovely mother has updated you of my wretched life. Not that I got up to much in prison but I should have seen it coming. Although I’m grateful that she’s taken the time to write to you, I would have actually preferred you to be in the dark about this. Not exactly a selling point for a gentleman to let the girl he’s courting know that he’s in prison. Who am I kidding, I’m no gentlemen. Unlike the ones that came to your house the other day, for sure.

They really sound like bloated wops and honestly, I’m still unsure about how you manage to stay in the same room as them for more than a second. I reckon there would be carnage if it ever happened to me. Hence why I went to prison. I’ll save you the gruesome details but I know that you’re a curious kitten and you’ll probably want to know what happened. So I’ll tell you. Even if in doing so I’m risking ever getting another letter from you. I’ll take that risk knowing that you’re worthy of the truth. No matter if I’ll be heartbroken, you should know who you’ve been corresponding with for the past month.

As you know, me and Sabini have never been the best of mates, no matter the appearance he’s trying to keep. Acting all right and just in front of my face and then going around and speak utterly bullshit about me and my people behind my back. Now, you may not know this about me, or you’ve already realized it anyhow, but I do not take kindly of racist, disrespectful and hypocrites people. Wops above anyone. So when a mate of mine comes to tell me that my “dear friend Darby” has been talking shit about us, I have to do something about it, you understand. So I go and confront him about it, right? And what does the fucker do? When put before the fact he has the audacity to laugh at my face. To fucking laugh at my face, claiming he was just joking. So I showed him how we joke about wops. It turns out that policemen were around and they didn’t think it was funny. Not really surprised, to be honest, those fuckers don’t have an ounce of sense of humour if you ask me.

It wasn’t too bad, to be honest. The only thing was how it affected my mum. And also you, it seems. Never understood how I got so lucky as to have two women worrying for me but I’m really sorry for making you worry. My mum has kind of made her peace with it but I know it may sound new and shocking to you. So for that, I apologize. If you ask me, all men are shit and absolutely undeserving for the attention and affection that women in their life provide them. Me and those fucktards you talked to me about are the living proof. Never thought you had it in you Clara, what a pleasant surprise. Turns out the noble girl isn’t so noble when she wants to. Have they kept coming to you? If that’s so, I’ve underestimated them. They’re far more stupid than I thought them to be but also far braver. Although I kind of understand why they can’t stay away from you. If I were they, I know I couldn’t be able to. Have you told your parents about your plans? Maybe you’ll have more luck looking for a suitor here. Just saying.

I’m writing this letter with the hope that it’ll bring you joy and peace to receive it and not disdain and shame when you’ve finished it. I’ll patiently wait for your next letter but I totally understand if you choose not to associate with me anymore. If that’s the case, I just want you to know that despite my initial apprehensions, I really enjoyed this correspondence of ours.

Forever yours,

Alfie

P.S. oh and by the way, your cousin was right. Your letters were the only source of entertainment and it brought with them sunlight and warmth.

                                                                                                            Naples, Italy

                                                                                                          May 23, 1904

Dear Alfie,

you can’t even imagine how delighted I was upon receiving your letter. How could you ever believe that I would be anything but happy? Of course, I’m not happy that you got thrown into prison but now you’re out and you’re certainly wiser for it, right? Jokes aside, I do not condone acts of violence, I’ve already told you that. However, I understand why you did it. Being a woman I’m constantly subject of racism and offensive behaviours. I’ve kinda made my peace with it but God only knows how many times I had to refrain from smacking some assholes’ face. So, see? Can’t really blame you. 

Maybe seeing as you and I are alike in a sense, you’d never feel like you better hide something like this again. I thought that you, above anyone else, would never use the fact that I’m a woman against me. I know that the situation is less grave than what my words made it out to be but is a very small step to make. You know, even Plato, in V b.c., understood that the difference between men and women is cultural. At least that’s what Ms Alice has taught me the other day. I was utterly surprised to be honest, I had never thought about it that way. But if you think about it, it’ true. The only difference between my male siblings and me lies in what others tell me what I can do and what I cannot. There’s no one that has that same kind of conversation with my brothers or other siblings. Not that I know of at least. Do you reckon for it to be true? I’m sure that as a young Jewish man, many have told you that you can’t be somewhere or doing something, correct me if I’m wrong. So you see, we’re not very different, you and I.

Oh Alfie, just the fact that you’re saying these things proves to me that you’re worthy of every last bit of affection your mum gives you. And also some kind of special girl? We never really talk about it but please don’t feel like you can’t talk to me or anything. I’m not going to be jealous if that’s what worries you. I’m sure that there’s enough place in your heart for her and my, your dear friend. Am I wrong? As for the blokes of whom I’ve talked to you about in my last letter, yes they have kept coming. Just less often. I’ve recently met them at a party a common acquaintance held and you know what I’ve noticed? Whenever I was in the same group of people, they would avoid speaking of any serious subject. Honestly, it was quite amusing to see how they would shift on their feet whenever they would see me approaching and I should think that they should learn a lesson from this: to never speak like they possess all the knowledge. Never understood how anyone can be so pretentious as to feel like they do.  

As for the other matter, I haven’t talked about it to my parents. Not yet. And as a result, they haven’t stopped looking for a suitor. However, I’ve mentioned to them my desire for travelling, especially in England, and that Ms Alice is happy to be my mentor and my chaperone. They also know that I’ve been keeping correspondence with someone from England but I thought it best to leave out the part that you’re a man. Please don’t take it personally Alfie, it has nothing to do with you but rather with the fact that they wouldn’t allow me to write back if they knew. They’re all so very concerned with etiquette and how someone is expected to behave that they would think this is inappropriate. As with many things, I totally disagree with my parents on this. But knowing them, I thought what I had to so that this thing we have can continue. I’ve kinda grown attached to you. 

So how was it like, going back home? Has your mother cooked you your favourite food? Has there been some kind of special activities for your return? I love when you tell me more about your days, it really feels like I’m there with you.

I’m happy that my letters, with my frivolous banter, have helped you through that difficult time. I hope there never comes a time where you stop writing back because you can’t be bothered too. 

I’ll wait for your next letter with the usual trepidation and anticipation.

Yours,

Clarissa

P.s. was that a promise or a suggestion?

[gayregis]

angouleme can have little a avuncular guidance. as a treat ... heres some semblance of a compilation of regis being a guardian to angouleme, things i think about . both funnie and sad moments included i think

angouleme sneaks out at night to get into trouble / does other questionable things around the palace nocturnally, regis always catches her and it’s always on accident since they just have very similar time schedules. angouleme stares at him intensely in “oh fuck i just got caught” like O_O for a good 30 seconds EVERY time this happens but regis is just like :| and shrugs saying “i didn’t see anything, i’m a human, i can’t see at night or whatever” and walks off. also the next morning geralt always questions him as to what angouleme was doing, if he saw her when he was coming home, and regis always denies knowledge or says smth along the lines of “i’m not a narc, geralt :/”

angouleme yelling/losing her shit/saying wildly inappropriate things ... regis produces a ye olde granola bar from his bag and gives it to her and she quiets down immediately and is like :) content eating the granola bar. you can also substitute the granola bar with a bag of baby carrots.

similarly angouleme saying crazy shit and geralt telling her to be quiet and asking regis to recount this instead and regis says something incredibly similar/the exact same

that one time that milva was teaching angouleme to shoot and angouleme clear missed the target and got regis instead and actually for the first time was incredibly upset and regretful and guilty that she had inflicted pain and potentially death upon someone and was very worried and apologetic and ashamed ... but also when regis inevitably just plucks out the arrow and hands it back to her and says “oh i think this is yours” angouleme is like wait so he litcherally cant be killed... this is epic

basically angouleme who’s been abandoned having an immortal protector and mentor. peace

as i said in the tags of this post here: regis comes of as so peaceful as an individual that at first angouleme resents him a little, because she associates peace with arrogance... like, oh youre content with your life and dont hate yourself? so you think youre better than me? fucker. and she’s so used to asshole men being creeps in her life that this company still seems really bizarre in the regard that none of these men are dangerous. but then she learns about what ... who ... regis was in the past and she realizes that they’re similar, and then does the math and realizes that maybe one day she’ll also find this inner peace and can stop hating herself so much for the things she’s done and the things that have happened to her. angouleme not feeling as though she's so alone and such a fuckup that only she could ever get into such a mess like this... i feel like she has an unhealthy amount of survivor’s guilt, as in she blames herself for not dying while everyone else in her band did, and she also feels like what the world has given her she deserved because she was a fundamentally bad person from birth bc of her status, and that she will be stuck in this violent hellscape of a life forever and thats just how it is and she has to continue violence... but i think when she meets regis (and also milva) she realizes that violence does not need to be a cycle and change is possible.

also in the tags of that post: i think... regis developing more understanding/empathy and putting ethical philosophy into actual practice where it actually has stakes (haha haha haha stakes haha haha haha haha haha). i think in the hansa he learns what humanity actually means

also bc vampires just... do not parent, it’s not in their culture to, regis learning what guardianship actually means and growing into this position where he protects this child and begins to understand humanity on this deeper level of the feeling of protecting a child, because that’s very human, valuing and protecting the progenity for a new generation is incredibly human

also geralt arguing with regis that “humans don’t regrow their heads” so he can’t just be supporting her doing all sorts of dumb shit just bc he did it and he turned out alright... they kind of have to argue on how to parent i’m saying bc again vampire parenting is not much parenting at all. just let them go wild what’s the worst that could happen... they’ll learn sort of thing. so regis has to confront the idea of human fragility and mortality

i think regis also learns from angouleme in that it’s very easy to hate and loathe your past self and curse your past self, asking “what could i have possibly been thinking, what an idiotic thing to do...” when your past self was not actually devoid of any redeemable qualities and was actually just misguided and without hope... regis condemns his past self quite harshly but because he would never admonish angouleme in such a way i think he realizes that the self-loathing is excessive and unproductive and potentially harmful

i said this in a post already, but geralt is overflowing with fatherly vibes and milva is also stern so i think there is a lot of value in regis to angouleme , in that she can tell him practically anything and he won’t get on her case for it . she finds this kind of amnesty in him whereas with the other members of the hansa they’d freak and start asking her all these questions. regis is just like “hm ok” and maybe discusses a little but doesn’t give her shit for it. this allows angouleme to confide a lot of stuff that she wouldn’t normally feel safe to tell someone else, and also probably gets her out of a lot of trouble bc someone (a very powerful someone) will know where she is and what she’s doing... so if she gets into trouble, she has a lifeline

this also means she can tell him a lot of funnie stories that she doesn’t have to stop herself with because “was gonna say smth funny and then remembered it involved murder.” also regis has like a thousand stories too obviously so he counters her wild tales with smth even crazier and then they’ll try to compete for a bit like “well ONE TIME i...” but angouleme actually always wins and neither knows how she does

surgery lessons, or basically regis was sewing someone up and angouleme invaded the scene going “can i watch can i watch”

also alchemy lessons, which turns into basically “so that’s how you make fisstech... interesting”

i think also in these mentorships regis quizzes her lightly like “and what reactions does this species of plant produce in the human body...?” and angouleme says the right answer, “oh they drop dead” and regis is like “very good!” and angouleme kind of goes insane with happiness a little at being called ‘good’ / being praised by a parental figure for maybe like one of the first times in her life. similarly, i think regis would attest to angouleme’s character at the breakfast table in discussions, and say things like “well our angouleme is very smart” and she’d be like >:3!!!

as in canon, adopting each other’s speech mannerisms... not just regis adopting angouleme’s unique phrases, but i would also like to think abt angouleme saying smth pseudo-philosophical to throw someone off of her tracks... like “so, i owe you money... but what is the concept of debt and ownership, anyways? isn’t it all just a construct by society? by humanity?” and then she bolts and evades her creditors

regis trying to teach angouleme stuff and then being like “oh wait i forgot you can’t fly, hmm... ” “oh wait i forgot you can’t hypnotize people, hmm....... that complicates things...” ... jokes on regis though bc apparently angouleme can scale buildings and talk her way out of a lot of situations, so that’s almost as good as flight and hypnosis

im trying to not be sad rn but i think regis would be a very good person to cry on. like his cloak is very soft. and he smells like herbs. so there you go. but i think also angouleme having a breakdown would be cathartic for both of them because angouleme realizes that she’s being vulnerable around an adult and she isn’t afraid of them and regis realizes that he has a responsibility to not treat physical wounds, but rather to treat emotional ones and that’s infinitely more difficult

i think angouleme would have breakdowns to regis about: her family/her mother, geralt taking her into the hansa but she feels like he probably just sees her as a replacement daughter, i think also she gets into too much trouble one night and regis has to get her out of trouble and she kind of just breaks down because her life is crazy and has always been crazy and there’s no way out because this is all she has

i think angouleme also gets pretty upset at seeing children/teens with “perfect lives,” like she just gets crazy bitter about it... and there’s no shortage of nobility around the palace, so she’s constantly reminded of her background. i think regis’s not-being-a-human-isms and philosophy that stems from an immortal perspective that all humans are equal in life and death can help with this. but also he kind of has to learn that you can’t just talk about smth abt society or the past that is fucked up and solve it by having had said it... it will always remain an issue...

i also think that regis has his ravens scout around for angouleme’s lost pendant with a sea-cat on it, but when she gets it back she gets mad and says that she doesn’t want it because she doesn’t want to be reminded of her mother, regis is like “ok” but angouleme is still mad, she realizes she’s mad because she doesn;t think that regis realizes that he’s actually become more of a guardian to her than her biological mother was, and tries to provoke him but regis is unprovokable ofc so he’s like hm explain that and angouleme just spills her emotions

to bring this back to happy i think they could also prank geralt pretty hard. and or eavesdrop. plus there will be times like where angouleme is waiting by a door trying to listen in and straining and regis stands like 3 feet from the door and hears everything perfectly, just recites it all aloud and she’s like oh this is so much easier. 

also once angouleme was eavesdropping on geralt and dandelion arguing and regis approached and was like “angouleme :/” and angouleme was like >:/ “get out of here i’m tryna eavesdrop” and regis was like “there’s a more professional way to do this” and disappears through the door, angouleme is like “showoff!” ... geralt smells sage and throws a moon dust bomb at him and regis coughs up silver shards for the rest of the day. also when angouleme hears the explosion she jumps in, so this was a failed attempt all around

[daesungindistress]

not sure if you've been asked this before but do you think you will return to writing fic about bb and if so, would you include sr in your stories?

The last time I was asked this was back in March or April. And it’s difficult to give a final answer. I want to return to writing. The thought of abandoning all my WIPs and notes and ideas forever is a depressing one. And if I’m being honest, the longer I go without making something, be it art or fic, the emptier I feel.

Do I think I will? Return to writing? That I’m less certain about. The events of this year have left me feeling a bit disillusioned. Disenchanted. Disappointed. Yeah, they all kinda have the same meaning, but I guess I’m just trying to convey how this thing with Seungri, this tragedy, and the ongoing struggle within the fandom seems to have slowly stripped away my ability to separate BB’s public personas (and private selves) from the fictional versions we as writers play with. It’s broken down some necessary barriers.

The situation we’re in is too serious, too real, too heavy. And in my heart I feel there’s still too much uncertainty about their future. That uncertainty is steadily chipping away at the compartmentalization that let me comfortably turn them into characters and use them to tell stories. When I sit down and stare at all these notes from a happier, easier time I no longer see what I once did. I wonder, “Who wrote this? When? And how?” There’s some guilt too. Like, who am I to toy with them like this, to reduce them to fanfic fodder when so much has gone so wrong? Some fans have successfully escaped into fiction this year to forget; for me it’s the other way around. It’s been nine months but in a way the scandal is still front and center in my mind, and fanfic can’t overpower that. If anything, I’m almost… afraid to touch it again.

For example… the one fic I finished and posted this year, Sugar Kiss, was a smutty ToDae oneshot… and, regrettably, a sequel to a DaeRi fic. It was something I started late last year and had mostly completed by January, well before the scandal reached a boiling point. All the fic needed by then was a little polish, and it took me until July to find the energy for it. The teaser/summary was “It’s Daesung’s turn to be a bad influence” because in the fic before it he and Seungri had gotten up to some ~naughty fun~ together and Daesung decided he liked it enough to pass it on. So in Sugar Kiss Daesung shares what he learned from Seungri with Seunghyun. The joke was that Seungri persuaded him into mischief. Seunghyun even has a line in which he calls Seungri “a bad influence,” which one reader got really upset over, but I didn’t mean it in a bad way when I initially wrote it earlier this year. It was meant to be tongue-in-cheek. Just some silly, sexy, lighthearted fun, nothing more. I felt a little iffy posting it on the heels of Seungri’s scandal but in the end threw caution to the wind and went ahead with it.

Then, a few days later, the news about Daesung’s building broke and suddenly people were saying, “Daesung might be in on it!” and “He’s just like Seungri!” and “Daesung said they’d become close recently!” And I was like 😰 I had a few days to feel accomplished, after that it was pure regret. It’s like nothing is safe. Things I enjoyed before without thought or care… just aren’t that fun anymore. It’s really sucked the joy out of storytelling using real people. The thought lurks: what if some of the questionable stuff I write about them turns out to be, well, real? And then I have to either denounce or defend what I’ve written. People are still leaving kudos on that fic and its prequel, and every time I get the notification I wonder what they really think of it.

Anyway, to answer your other question: even though my view of Seungri has soured significantly since spring, my feelings on the matter of his involvement in my future fanfics, if any, have remained… largely the same. I think. The last time I talked about this I said I might continue to include him, but clarified that it would depend on the timeline (pre/post 2019) and setting (canon compliant, alternate universe). And also what role needs filling. Even after all we’ve learned about him, Seungri is still an interesting character to me with traits that I consider useful for the types of stories I like to tell. He’s a good foil for Daesung due to their opposing personalities, interests, lifestyles, values…. and for this reason I’ve always had a tendency to depict him as someone who brought conflict to the group in some form or another. His fans who found their way to my fanfics sometimes asked me to be kinder to him. Let’s just say now there will be no more pressure to pull my punches. That said, I expect any parts he does have will be small and fairly insignificant. A line or two, maybe even just a mention. My goal isn’t to pretend he never existed, just to avoid giving him undue attention that might, y’know… encourage people to like him.

…there is, however, one possible exception to that. Carnivores. Don’t think I’ve touched on this here yet? I had tentative plans to continue that series one day. Yes, even though I swore it was over. The story and setting is still meaningful to me and those characters feel more divorced from their inspirations, the Big Bang members, than any of my others. “They have lives of their own,” a reader once said to me, and I have to agree. You could change their names and I would still recognize them. I hoped it would be nothing too serious this time, nothing too intricate, just a oneshot catching up with the pack in their new home a year or two down the road. Here’s the problem though: Seungri was finally going to get something he’d always wanted. Something hinted at in the final scenes of Innocence & Instinct. And I wanted to scratch the surface of how they dealt with that.

Too bad 2019 has all but blown those plans to pieces. Carnivores!Seungri is not Big Bang’s Seungri or Lee Seunghyun, he is just a fictional character bearing his name and likeness, but even so, the absolute last thing I want to do right now is give him something he’s always wanted. No matter how I look at it, the thought of writing him into an important role comes off as really distasteful to me right now. So if that’s ever going to materialize, yeah, it’s gonna be awhile.

But wait. What if I give him something he’s always wanted… and then take it away. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? It came to me one day months ago, how I could work the events of this year into the series. Some parts of Carnivores do mirror real life events involving BB (such as Jiyong, Youngbae, Seunghyun, and Daesung confronting Seungri in Dreams Like Ashes over fears that he’s going to leave them for his newly formed group of human friends. Though I sort of glossed over it, this was based on things they were saying about him back in 2016, which was when that fic was written). So working his recent rise and fall into a future installment wouldn’t exactly be a new approach for this series. You could even say I’m a little intrigued by the idea.

Still, it’s too soon. Too fresh. And I don’t know how it ends, in this world or that one, or if I even have the creative energy to tackle something so… disruptive. Reality is hard enough. So until then, those plans will stay right where they’ve been all this time, boxed up in a dusty corner of my mind. I hope that one day I can reach back inside that box and share what I find with you all. Until then, I think what I need is a clearer sense of direction from BB… and more time to work up the courage to try.

[buckybabybaby]

Mr Hollywood (Chapter 8)

Summary: Bucky Barnes, an underpaid teaching assistant in a small English village, dreams of a movie career back in his home country of America. He finally gets the break he's always wanted, and if it wasn't for you, his best friend, he wouldn't have been able to take it.

But is that fact enough to save your friendship when it's tested by the pressures of Hollywood?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader (Gender Neutral)

Word count: 1599

Chapter summary: Easter holidays and ignoring Bucky's show; all anyone can talk about.

Warnings: a little bit of angst :( no actually Bucky, but soon!

Previous: Chapter 7

Mr Hollywood Masterlist | Main Masterlist

*****

Waking up early on Monday, you take a few moments to just lay there, enjoying the quiet. You know today will be difficult, no matter how many promises of letting go and moving on you've made to yourself. Five more minutes avoiding the inevitable won't hurt.

Peggy had insisted you stayed until late afternoon yesterday, not wanting you to be alone too soon, but you couldn't intrude on her for too long. The short walk back to your house felt like a marathon as you past right by the house Bucky used to rent a flat in, and you couldn't stop yourself from glancing through the hedge and into the window that used to be his lounge. The 'for let' sign was up again, another neighbour moving on some place new, and you'd quickly slipped on your sunglasses, not wanting any pupils to see their teacher crying in the street. Reaching home, you were surprised to find your abandoned shopping placed neatly inside your porch. Looking a little scuffed and bashed, but nonetheless edible, you'd brought it inside as you wondered who you had to thank.

Dayton had called you yesterday evening, under the guise of just checking in, but you had a feeling it was more than that, and it didn't take long to get it out of him. Bucky had turned up at his place on Saturday night, after you'd seen him, and when Dayton had taken the opportunity to ask about what was happening between the two of you he'd taken off again.

“Didn't give me a chance to go after him. Straight back in his taxi and puff, gone.”

“Where's he now then?” You'd asked, worried despite everything. You can't just switch your feelings off overnight.

“On his way back to America, according to one of his cast mates. Buck's not answering my calls.”

“I'm so sorry.”

“Not your fault, sweetheart.”

“What if it is!” You'd exclaimed. “What if I've caused a wedge between you and him? Just because he hates me shouldn't mean he-”

Dayton interrupted, bewildered. “Whoa, what? Hates you? What's going on?”

Trying to summarise Saturdays events, the tears made an appearance again. He was just as astounded and angry as Peggy was, sure you must have heard Bucky wrong, but you know what he said.

You don't think you'll ever forget it.

“Don't you worry about it, I'll find out what's going on.” Dayton had hung up with a promise.

Pulled back from your reminiscing by your alarm, you sigh and slide out of bed, hoping to get this day over as quickly and painlessly as possible.

*****

Easter is late this year, a blessing as it means you only have to make it through a short week before the school breaks for a fortnight. Even three and a half days feel like forever, especially as the upset caused by seeing Bucky again, and everything that came with it, has you running on hardly any sleep.

His television show has clearly wrapped, the promotion in full swing, and all the children at school can talk about is the trailer. You haven't been able to bring yourself to watch it yet, which is why it comes as such a shock during lunch break on Tuesday when a double decker bus rolls past the front gates, his image plastered on the side, two times larger than life. You vaguely recognise the actor he's standing beside, but you're too dazed to think straight.

Noticing your frozen figure staring after the bus, Peggy comes across to stand with you, a comforting hand on your arm as you turn to her open mouthed.

“Are you okay Y/N?”

You spin back to the playground where all the children who also saw the advert are straining to see it again. “Have you watched the trailer?”

“Do you want me to say no?”

“I want you to be honest.”

“Then yes. It actually looks quite good.”

“Of course it does,” You mutter bitterly.

“Sam Wilson is always great.”

You nod in agreement. No wonder Bucky had been so excited to get this role, there weren't many actors he placed higher than Sam Wilson, and getting to work with him was probably a dream come true.

It's just a shame that dream didn't involve you.

*****

By the time Thursday afternoon arrives you feel like you need the two weeks off just to sleep. A few pencils were snapped when you suddenly remembered Bucky's words to you but other than that, you managed to get through to the end of term with no major break downs.

The holiday comes at a good time weather wise too, and you bask in the sun with the chickens for most of the first weekend. You're happy the hens got to enjoy a few full days of freedom in the garden, as when you open their coop the next morning, little Dot isn't moving.

It is obvious she's gone.

Moving her away from the others as you find the spade to dig her a final resting place, you wipe your eyes on your sleeve. She was always Bucky's favourite, smaller than the others and picked on more because of it, he made sure she never missed out on treats.

Replacing the earth after you bury her in a shady spot under the willow, you find a tall, pretty daisy to plant in loose soil over her, before slumping down on to the bench nearby, exhausted both physically and mentally. Most people laughed when you said you had such pets, not understanding how a farm animal could be as interesting and rewarding as a more conventional companion, but then they met them and understood your love. It's always hard when you lose one, harder still when the person you long to speak to about it has made it clear he doesn't want you in his life any more.

When Sophia comes to stay during the second week she brings Benjamin, and flowers in sympathy for your loss. She gets it. Helping her unpack her weekend bag, you listen to her chatter away about her plans for the nursery, and how they're trying to squeeze one last holiday in before they become a family of four.

Dayton's on a trip back home, very last minute, and he'd asked you if you minded keeping Sophia company for the couple of days he's away. He didn't say why he's going back to the USA but you have an idea, it would be too much of a coincidence so soon after Bucky disappeared from his driveway after your confrontation. Regardless of your own feelings that it would be pointless to try and talk him round, you wish him luck in his quest.

She knows about the current situation surrounding you and Bucky, but ever the optimist, she's convinced that it's nothing more than a silly argument that will be resolved in a few weeks. You don't have the heart to tell her otherwise. Instead, you busy yourself with keeping Sophia and Benjamin fed, watered and entertained, playing the perfect host to hide your pain.

*****

School holidays used to drag on forever when you were a child, however now you work there it feels like you blink and it's over. You're not too disappointed to be back, however, as the summer term is the most enjoyable in your experience, the lighter evenings meaning you don't feel so confined in your home after you finish for the day, and the children seem more happy and carefree in the warmer weather.

There were also more dates in the calender this time of year, it'll be sports day again before long, but first, the May Day celebrations. You hadn't been involved in the organisation of this years fête, and as you stare at the poster and the announcement of the 'extra special star guest', you really wish you had. Ripping the flyer off the wall, you march to Peggy's office, not bothering to knock before you burst in so it's lucky she's alone.

“What the hell is this?”

“I could ask you the same, Y/N.” She stands from her desk, moving to close the door behind you. “You can't just charge in here unannounced. We've got to at least pretend to be professional.”

She's joking but you're not laughing, shoving the offending piece of paper into her hands, causing her smile to slip.

“Ah.”

“Ah, indeed. Why the hell didn't you tell me he was coming?” You pace as you rant. “Why the hell is he coming? What has he got to do with anything! And you must have some sort of input in this, why did you let it happen?”

“I'm sorry Y/N. What was I meant to do?”

“Stop it!”

“Without airing yours and his private lives, there's nothing I could’ve done!”

She's right. Huffing in frustration, you hold your tongue. You can't afford to lose two friends in less than half a year, and you know Peggy hasn't done this on purpose, now you think about it rationally Bucky being there would bring a lot of attention to the schools humble spring fête. You can no longer go on any website, or watch TV, without seeing his face. Whatever the show is about you're not sure, as you still haven't got the strength to watch any of the dozens of videos hanging around, but it's clear it's going to be the next big sensation. That Bucky is going to be the next big sensation.

You guess you're going to have to suck it up and ignore your heartache, just for one day.

*****

A/n: lot's of Bucky in the next chapter, I promise! And maybe an explanation or two...

As always, thank you for reading!! Feedback is very welcome if you would like :D

Chapter 9

[kuroneko-hikage]

Second life

A quick Toshiro character piece that I whipped up a bit ago. Not exactly a one-shot or drabble, but nothing that will turn into a full story. Just a little something-something that came to mind and I needed to write it down. Been a while since I wrote anything Bleach-related. A loooooong while. AU, Toshiro-centric, just had to get it off my mind. I hope some of you like it.

~*~

People never come up north, to do so would be facing the wrath of nature’s harsh, unforgiving cold. It would mean subjecting themselves to a difficult terrain of ice, mountains, and perpetual snowstorms. There was nothing of value up north, no settlements, excavation sites, or precious minerals to dig for. No one wanted to brave the ever-changing landscape, too fearful of losing themselves to a frigid sleep they would never wake up from.

In the same setting that most people described as nothing more than a frozen cemetery, there was still life. Toshiro only knew this vast, arctic wasteland as home. It was the place he had memories of most, and the place that he returned to whenever he left. A place he could not stray from for too long.

Despite the naysayers of the locals in the closest village to the hazardous northern mountains, Toshiro wasn’t anything special. He was not a witch, he was not some sort of god to collect yearly bounties. And he certainly was no madman. Perhaps the harsh weather had a small effect on his heart, and he did not show the emotions that were spontaneous to sprout when he did have human contact, but his unique situation did not start that way.

Like many others, his life was forfeit as soon as his parents had entered the storm one severe, January evening. Or at least, that is what Hyorinmaru tells him. “Some night in the first month of the year. The exact date eludes me.” Toshiro lets the detail fly away with surprising ease, the exact date unimportant. It was close enough to his own birthday that he would celebrate it together with his arrival here. Perhaps it was fate, that he was born to reside here. A romanticized and poetic notion, but the thought always amused him. He couldn’t say that he believed in such a thing called fate, but he was happy that it had happened regardless of circumstances; ridiculous as they may seem.

Driven into this forsaken territory that nations refused to claim, Toshiro never knew what their reason was, but it must have been extreme for his parents to take him with. What madness controlled them enough to risk it would forever remain a mystery to him. There should be anger there, in his heart, but his time with this place had shut out the heat it would cause in a normal human being.

But once again, Toshiro isn’t normal, and neither was his past. That night, he really did die. This bitter mountain range held no exceptions with a human child barely a year into its life. He does not remember any of what had transpired, only the results.

Hyorinmaru found him in his cave of frozen treasures, his den of collected things whether they used to be alive or not. Though his parents were long dead already, cradling Toshiro in a frozen casket made of their own bodies, Hyorinmaru was unmotivated to bother with trying to save them. Dragons could revive souls, but it was extremely taxing on them, and they more often than not decided against doing such things unless acceptable rewards were granted to them in exchange. When Hyorinmaru found Toshiro, he had just passed away, so freshly gone it couldn’t have been more than an hour. It was a quick and easy resurrection.

There was a consequence, though. When Toshiro came back into life, Hyorinmaru had imbued his element into Toshiro’s soul so he would survive the never-ending weather he was brought back into. His hair was drained of black, white forever bleeding out from his skull. Any time Toshiro traversed the storms outside his teal eyes would gloss over, as if there were nothing there but pupils.  More so than the physical attributes he gained with his new life, he was also tied to certain death.

Toshiro’s literal lifeline was tied to these mountains. Were he to stray away from here for any time more than a month, the magicks binding his body to this world would fade completely, and he would die again. Permanently. Occasionally, Hyorinmaru took human form, clad them both in white leathers and fur, to visit the surrounding villages and landscapes, but never for longer than a week.

Hyorinmaru taught him much growing up; the ways of the world beyond the mountains, the sophistication of the magicks coursing through all living things, and the nature of all mystical beings. Hyorinmaru taught him the history of the world, knowledge the humans still lack, and Toshiro’s immense potential to learn without their restrictions. At first, he’d thought nothing of it. He had no memories of his parents, twenty-some-odd years later and all he can conjure from his memory are half-frozen images that Hyorinmaru graciously embedded in his mind. The dragon didn’t seem at all concerned with them considering they were in the past and should be forgotten. His blasé attitude towards them was confusing to him, almost like he hated humans. When confronted, the only reply was given with a shrug.

“I do not hate them. I believe it is pointless to dwell. I do not hate you, but I do expect from you.”

When Toshiro had asked what it was he was expected to give, Hyorinmaru just chuckled. “I do not know what it is that you will give me, but you will give me something. You will repay me for your second life. Perhaps not in this century or the next, but it will come. Worry not, you are still young. You still need guidance. Knowledge. I have great anticipation for when you mature. I can feel it.”

So within this palace of dragon ice, Toshiro grows, learns, and develop. He was still young, even by Human standards, but he was determined. He was determined to live up to Hyorinmaru’s expectations. With not a single clue of what he would think proper payment would be to a dragon giving him an icy second life, he won’t let it scare him off. He grew up with a dragon that would threaten to eat him, half the time meaning it as a joke and half the time a legitimate threat.

Hyorinmaru was everything to him. He was able breathe again, to experience life in this realm, all because of him. If Toshiro were to die again, it would be by Hyorinmaru’s hand. Until that time would come, Toshiro would stay in the mountains, his home, and away from the humans he was first born from.

His parents are buried, forever part of the timeless sea of preserved bodies, obscured in thick layers of heavily opaque ice. Toshiro would join them. Not now, not in the next century, possibly not in the next millennia. It’s a fitting place, no other will do. He promises it to Hyorinmaru, roars it to the very tops of the mountains, whispers it to the naturally beautiful formations in the ice on a rare clear day.

Hyorinmaru is stoic except for the upturned corners of his mouth.

[shewhohangsoutincemeteries]

redefinition

Peter Quill x Reader

Summary: written for anonymous. you and peter have been seeing each other for a while, but neither of you have made move to actually define what you have. when you catch him kissing another woman, you’re forced to confront both him and your feelings.

Characters/Pairings: peter quill/reader, gamora, rocket raccoon, drax.

Warnings: angst. like a lot of emotions. sexual situations.

Word Count: 3,334

MARVEL MASTERLIST

It was an odd sensation, to feel a half-formed smile freeze on your face. It was like you didn’t quite understand a joke – the smile wanted to continue but your brain wouldn’t let it, so it stayed awkwardly on your lips, itching like a new tattoo. Maybe that was fitting; it could be a permanent mark of your damn foolishness. You could have that smile tattooed on your face and the cause stamped in your mind forever.

Because there it was, right in front of you, plain as that stupid, painful smile on your face. Peter Quill, the infamous Star Lord, wrapped in another woman’s embrace. His lips were on hers, her arms around his neck.

Maybe it was foolish after all, falling for him in the first place. You’d heard enough snide remarks about his exploits from Gamora and Rocket when you’d first joined the Milano’s crew, and he hadn’t been exactly shy about sharing stories either. Not to the mention the number of times you’d found a disheveled girl slinking out of the ship on your way to the bathroom in the morning. But you hadn’t been able to help it and apparently neither had he; you were both exactly what the other needed. You were a nostalgic reminder of home and an exciting promise of the future.

You’d bonded easily over music and similar senses of humor, and it had been ridiculously endearing how excited he’d been to meet someone who actually understood his references. So, somewhere along the line the two of you had fallen together, and while you’d never discussed exactly what your relationship was, he’d stopped bringing women home and none of the Guardians had thought you’d needed to.

But apparently you’d been wrong about that.

You felt Drax bump into your back, and you stumbled forward slightly. You head his impatient voice but didn’t register the words. The rest of the crew had been piling out of the bar behind you, drunk and loud and high on the success of a job a well done, and you’d been laughing at something Rocket had said. A petty jibe at a guy who’d cut in front of the two of you at the bar.

“Y/N? You wanna move your ass?” Rocket’s voice was caught on the end of his rambunctious guffaw, but you could hear confusion ring in it when you didn’t answer. You couldn’t, because at the sound of your name, Peter had pulled away from the woman’s lips like he’d been hit with a bucket of cold water. She didn’t seem to notice, her lips moving teasingly to his neck and jaw as he turned a wide-eyed gaze on you. The surprise in them flashed to realization before it turned to guilt. “Y/N? What the hell is wrong with you?”

Peter pushed the girl gently away from him just as Gamora stepped lithely past the others to stand by your side. Her eyes were on you for the briefest moment before she followed your gaze. Her eyes narrowed as they reached Peter. “You—”

“Don’t,” you said quietly, holding up a hand. Gamora’s astounding amount of self-control won over, and she silenced herself immediately. Still, you were sure that if you looked her way, disgust would be marring her pretty features. “Don’t bother.”

“I didn’t—” Peter started, stepping towards you. You shook your head, turning and heading down the street towards the ship before he could continue. You heard Peter try and speak again, undoubtedly making move to follow you, but he was cut off by Drax and you forced yourself to tune them out as an argument broke out between the rest of the Milano’s crew. You could feel your eyes burning with tears, and you folded your arms over your chest as if it would somehow stop the feeling that your heart was about to fall out.

It wasn’t until you were boarding the Milano again that you heard Peter’s voice again, out of breath and pleading as he caught up with you. His hair was mussed, and there was a small cut under his eye that hadn’t been there when you’d left. You could see a bruise beginning to bloom around it. You couldn’t hear the others though; he must have run the whole way back once he’d gotten past them. You could only imagine the words Rocket had chosen for the occasion.

“Wait! Just wait, please…” he caught hold of your wrist when he reached you, squeezing it gently and you stopped. Your skin was cool from the night air, and his always-warm hand took away some of the chill. You swallowed. “C’mon, Y/N, I—”

It was your name that did it.

You spun around, ripping your arm out of his grasp and slapped him hard across the cheek before you could think about it. He grunted as pain burned in his cheek and in your palm, and you tightened your jaw determinedly in an effort to stop your bottom lip from quivering. You weren’t a particularly violent person, much to the chagrin of Rocket and Drax, but part of you gained a sort of sick satisfaction at the sight of your handprint on his cheek, half-hidden by his own hand.

“Okay. I deserved that.”

“You’re an asshole, Peter Quill,” you bit out, and you felt a tear roll over your cheek despite your efforts to stop it.

“I know,” he agreed quietly, dropping his hand from his face. “I think Rocket’s puttin’ it on my tombstone.” He hesitated before stepping towards you, and you shuffled back haltingly, folding your arms tightly across your chest.

“Don’t touch me, Quill.”

He stopped, regret heavy in those eyes you usually loved so much. “…You never call me that.”

You shrugged a shoulder. “I should be calling you a lot worse.”

“You’re right,” he nodded, ducking his head. “You’re right. But, baby, please listen to me. I didn’t—”

“Didn’t what? Mean to?” you almost laughed. “Is that what you were going to say?”

“I… I didn’t think.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You never do.”

Turning on your heel, you swallowed the bitter taste in your mouth. You strode down the corridor to your shared bunk, intent on finding something to sleep in and begging Gamora and Drax to let you have your old hammock back in theirs. Considering the venom in her voice back at the bar, you didn’t think it would be too difficult.

Peter followed after you like a dejected puppy on your heels. He continued to fight for you acknowledgement as you searched for a shirt, trying to apologize or explain or… hell, you didn’t know. You weren’t interested in listening. It wasn’t until he let out a frustrated groan and grabbed hold of your shoulders that you were forced to look at him again. Unwilling to meet his gaze, you focused on his chest instead.

“Damn it, Y/N! Will you please just listen to me?!”

There was no anger in his frustration… maybe just desperation, and despite your own fury, you felt a pang of hurt on his behalf. Trying to ignore that, you forced yourself to scoff despite your tears.

“Listen to you? So, you can tell me what exactly? Some crap about how you were drunk? Or how we never really defined the fucking relationship, so this is all my fault? Because I was stupid and naïve, and I trusted you?” You shoved at his chest with every question, but he refused to let go of you. You felt like you were choking on your anger, your throat thick with tears. “That I let myself… No. I don’t want to hear it. I’m tired.”

“Well, you’re gonna hear it, Y/N.” he told you, his tone determined but his voice shaking, and his hands squeezed your shoulders. “You’re gonna listen to me. I need you to.”

“I don’t give a damn what you need, Quill!” you shouted. “Let me go!”

He complied immediately, holding up his hands as if he was surprised he’d been touching you at all.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, just…” he sighed, rubbing his neck. “Please. Y/N, please just let me say my thing, and then… then you can do what you’re gonna do.”

You stood there for what felt like an hour before you gave your own heavy sigh. You sat on the edge of the bed, arms wrapping protectively around yourself again. “Fine.”

He inhaled slowly before he moved to sit beside you. You tensed slightly. He leaned forward, one elbow resting on his knee. He ran his other hand through his hair and over his face as he gathered himself, before clasping it with the other between his legs. His eyes rested on them, and there was a long stretch of silence between the two of you for a while before he spoke again quietly.

“I… I was scared.”

You raised a brow, but your voice joined his as a murmur. “Of what?”

“Of…” he huffed a sigh, shaking his head. “I’m such a dick. I was… I’m scared of, well, you.”

You frowned. “Scared of me? Quill—”

“Maybe not of you, but… of you and me. Of you and me and us and how… and how you make me feel.” You dared a peek at him, and his eyes were still on his hands, pointedly avoiding you. “I’m not… I don’t know how this whole thing works with me in it. This… relationship thing. I’ve gone all kinds of things with all kinds of women all over the galaxy, Y/N, but I’ve never done this. And maybe we never talked about what we were because I didn’t know what the hell I was going to say. Because I’ve never had these feelings before. I’m usually gone by morning.”

You forced yourself not to roll your eyes.

“But with you… I like the mornings. I like the stupid jokes the others don’t get, and the late nights where we just talk until we fall asleep, and the way you kiss my cheek every time you leave the cockpit, and the way you smile at me and the way you dance and… I like you. I like you more than I have any right to and more than I’ve ever liked anyone in the past and I sound like a complete idiot right now and I hear it, and I’m going to stop talking.”

He caught his breath, exhaling shakily. “But, yeah, Y/N. All this scares the absolute shit outta me.”

You could barely hear yourself speak when you finally did. It felt like your heart was pressing against your ribs so hard it would slice itself into pieces. “Then why did you—”

“Because I’m a fucking coward. Because I was trying to convince myself that I was still the same guy I’ve always been. So, when she kissed me… I didn’t stop her.”

“Did it work?” you meant to sound bitter, but instead you sounded kind of… hopeless.

He finally looked up at you, tears of his own shining in his eyes. You bit your lip, hesitating for a long moment before reaching over to slip your hand between both of his. Peter wove his fingers between yours, trapping your hand in the warmth of his calloused fingers.

“No.” he replied sadly. “And I should have known it wouldn’t.”

“Yeah…” you exhaled. “You should have.”

His fingers squeezed yours. “I’m sorry I did this to you, Y/N.”

You searched his eyes for some kind of sign of insincerity but found nothing. Your heart tightened in your chest. He was still squeezing your hand, like he was afraid of the moment you’d let go, and you returned the pressure in kind. You didn’t want to think about this anymore. You didn’t want to dwell on anything that made you hurt or to face your insecurities or his mistakes.

You just wanted to act.

So, you did.

“Quill.” You touched your free hand to his cheek. His eyes closed at the touch, and you leaned forward to press your lips to his.

It was feather soft at first; he didn’t immediately respond, too shocked to react. You slid your hand down the side of his neck and over his chest to tug at the collar of his jacket, pulling him closer. His breath caught against your mouth as he finally kissed you back.

Your teeth grazed his bottom lip as his hand alighted carefully on the side of your face, tickling the skin of your jaw. You felt his fingertips slid into your hair and you scooted closer to him, your knees bumping against his leg. His free hand came down to brush against your knee instinctively, teasing your bare skin. The kiss deepened quickly, and you shifted to straddle his lap without breaking it. Your torso curved to press against him, your fingers tightening their grip on his lapels.

Peter cradled your face in his hands as you broke away to catch your breath, his thumb brushing against your lips. Your forehead rested against his, both your chests heaving.

“Y/N…” he breathed your name, his eyes screwed shut. There was so much sorrow in that word. “Is this a goodbye?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted in a whisper, caught off-guard by the desperation in your own voice. You tugged at his jacket again, this time urging it down his arms. “I don’t know, Peter. I just… I need this. I need you. Please, Peter.”

He met your gaze for a moment with a weighted look before his lips claimed yours again. He released your face again long enough for you to shove his jacket off before his hands were tangling in your hair and he was deepening the kiss with a heady mix of teeth and tongue.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you ground down against him and reveled the groan he gave in response. He took hold of your waist, guiding your hips into a teasing rhythm, his breath heavy. Bracing your hands on his shoulders, you peppered kisses along his cheek and jaw and his fingers tightened on your hips in a wonderful show of possessiveness as your teeth scraped against his pulse point. You felt the building sensation in your lower belly tighten as he released a shuddering breath.

Peter pulled you back for another kiss, only breaking away so the two of you could strip off your shirts and toss them aside. His hands took hold of your ass as his lips brushed over your collarbone, making your breath catch. Your name left his lips like a prayer as you ground against him, rolling your hips steadily. You were wearing a skirt, and you whimpered at the feeling of the rough denim of his jeans pressed against your clit through the thin lace of your underwear.

“Fuck, Peter…” you breathed, and you let out a squeak as he used his hold on you to lay out on the mattress, settling himself between your thighs. Kissing him again, your hands fumbled with his belt and the fastening of his pants. He braced himself above you with one hand, the other one sliding down your thigh to your knee, lifting it and hooking your leg around his waist. You used it to urge him closer, and he broke away from your lips to meet your eye. His expression was searching, and you felt your chest throb at the depth of his eyes.

“Y/N…”

“Peter, please…” you whimpered, pulling him out of his pants and stroking your hand slowly along the length. He gave a shuddering breath as you did, his eyes fluttering closed before his head fell to rest against your shoulder. You tangled the fingers of your free hand in his hair, and felt his lips press gently against the base of your neck. You grazed your teeth against his earlobe the way you knew undid him and squeezed the base of his cock teasingly. “I need you, Peter.”

You ghosted your lips over his, resting your forehead against his again. “Please.”

That was all it took, and he captured your lips again, his tongue pushing into your mouth as he reached between the two of you to tease you through the lace. He pushed them to side, and you used your hold on him to brush the head of his cock against your clit. The both of you let out a moan at the feeling.

“Fuck, Y/N…” he groaned. “You’re so fucking wet.”

You held his gaze as you positioned him, raising your hips until he slipped inside of you. He thrust his hips forward slowly to slide all the way in to the hilt. You moaned as he filled you, and he took up an agonizingly slow pace, his breath warm against your throat and his hand ghosting over your ribs.

It moved up to rest against the side of your throat, his thumb tilting your chin up to meet his eyes as he rolled his hips against you. You licked your lips nervously.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he whispered imploringly, and your teeth dug into your bottom lip. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t leave.”

“Peter…”

“Please.” His voice broke slightly. “I love you.”

Your eyes widened, and you weren’t sure if you stopped breathing at his words or at the way he angled his hips, but you felt new tears well up in your eyes, so you pulled him down for another kiss to hide them. You could feel the earnestness in his lips, and his anguish, and when he broke away to bury his face in your shoulder you clung to him. Your hands gripped at his arms and back, your hips rising to meet his.

“I love you, Y/N.” he murmured against your skin, and you couldn’t help but moan. “I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you…”

He repeated those words until you felt your release break inside you, and you came with a strangled moan of his name. His hips jerked unsteadily as you clenched around him, his own orgasm hitting him shortly after, coming with a shuddering breath against your skin that made you shiver.

Peter stayed braced above you on shaky arms for a few long moments, unwilling to lose contact with you before he slipped out of you and rolled onto his back. His eyes were closed tightly.

You watched him, ignoring the way your skirt was bunched around your waist, until his breathing slowed. Tears gathered in your throat again, and you carefully slipped your hand into his between the two of you.

“Peter?”

He didn’t open his eyes, but you felt his hand tightened around yours.

“I… I think I love you, too.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Peter, please look at me.”

He slowly turned his head to face you, eyes opening.

“I… I’m not saying I know where we stand here. And I…” you swallowed. “I’m not saying that I’m not scared too. I just… I just know I don’t want to go anywhere you aren’t.”

Peter closed his eyes, a tear rolling down his cheek. You raised the hand enclosed in his to wipe it away with the back of it, and he hissed as it touched the cut under his eye. He kissed the back of your hand softly.

“Who did that to you?”

“Gamora,” he replied, raising an arm to show you the beginnings of a bruise on his ribs. “That was Drax.”

“Christ.”

“It’s nothing I didn’t deserve.”

You rolled over to face him, and he tugged you over to curl against his side. He wrapped an arm around you, his other hand covering yours as it came to rest on his chest. “I’m not going to argue with that.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“’Cause you’re a jerk.”

“Agreed.”

“A regular Jerk-Lord.”

He gasped. “Well, that’s just cruel.”

You giggled, burying your face into his chest. “You deserved it.”

Peter pressed his lips to your hair. “I really love you, Y/N. I’m sorry I’m such an idiot.”

.

.

.

tags: @lovely-dreamer19 @spacesuitsforemergency @wittyforachange

if you want to be tagged in any fics, peter quill or otherwise, let me know!

[mycng-blog]

°✧｡ [PARK JIWON, CIS FEMALE, SHE/HER] IT’S BEEN TWO YEARS SINCE ECLIPSE JOINED VELIA FROM SAN JOSE, CA, USA. APPARENTLY THEIR NAME IS OLIVIA MYUNG AND THEY’RE A ROGUE. THEY HAVE BEEN FIGHTING AS A CATALYST MEMBER FOR A WHILE NOW. DIDN’T PEOPLE SAY THEY WERE NOT A BETA TESTER? I HEARD THEY TURNED TWENTY-ONE THIS YEAR. LET’S HOPE THEY MAKE IT OUT ALIVE. 

hi, friends! i’m dri (nineteen, she/her, pst), ur local computer game science major + dance coverist from los angeles, and i’m super pumped that velia’s up and running again! i know i’m... quite tardy... but that’s just an inherent trait of mine and the sole reason why my games professor knows my name JDKLGHSD pls understand! so, anyway, here’s my girl olivia eclipse! i don’t have anything really polished for her, so i hope y’all don’t mind any potential rambling under the cut! if you’re interested in plotting connections, feel free to im me or ask for my discord! i may be slow to respond, but i’m still out here!

C://REALITY/BEFORE_VELIA.TXT

growing up, olivia lived a rather well-off life. her mother was an executive for a pharmaceutical company, and her father was a well-reputed patent attorney. 

from the get-go she was set up for success in whatever path she decided to take in life. enrolled in piano lessons at an early age, prep classes that took up far too much of her time on the weekends, her parents brought up their only child with a lot of pride and, surprisingly, a lot of love.

despite being a friendly gal who seemed to have a lot of friends in her inner circle, she really only had two people who stuck with her throughout all of her years in school. there were plenty of times when she felt lonely, especially with her local prominence on social media. she had a lot of connections but no connections, ya feel?

before getting stuck in velia, she was attending a respected music conservatory in the bay area for cello performance! she had been playing since she was about 11, taking both private lessons and being in her schools’ respective orchestras. 

she had never been that much of a gamer type, but her two best friends selene and leon had beta tested velia and wanted the three of them to be able to play it together. coincidentally, her birthday was close enough to the release date, so her parents treated her to a headset and the game. big miss steak.

C://VIRTUAL/INSIDE_VELIA.TXT

tw: murder

first thing’s first, she chose the rogue class because she wanted to be cool and mysterious pretty much LHGSKJHSD it was a difficult choice between rogue and mage but she decided that knives and daggers seemed pretty badass and went with it.

when she and her friends found out that they were trapped in the game, olivia was very, very much in denial. even after seeing that they couldn’t log out, she thought it was just a bug, or a joke. that it would get fixed soon enough. about a week had passed before she actually acknowledged the fact that they were stuck. and she was pissed.

she “celebrated” her birthday in the game, somewhere in the town of beginnings, but it wasn’t that much of a celebration. she was supposed to be with her family at home, eating hot pot and going out for gelato like they always did when her birthday came around. instead, she was trapped in a game unlikely to see her parents or anyone else in reality ever again. if she didn’t have her two best friends with her, she honestly wouldn’t have been able to cope. :0

for the first few months, olivia, now eclipse, just stuck with selene and leon, the three of them taking on the floors at their own pace. they had a pretty good system going, but tensions were high after a tough dungeon battle.

to this day, olivia is unsure of what triggered the sudden outburst. perhaps it had just become too much. perhaps felicity snapped because of it. but a heated argument between selene and leon — their health bars already dangerously low — ended with leon’s game over.

olivia stood there, trying to comprehend what had just happened. she doesn’t remember how it started or hearing selene’s pleas of justification. she only remembers the sound of her daggers piercing selene until she was no longer there. *cue visual of olivia shaking and dropping her daggers, sobbing*

she went solo for a while, waiting for her cursor to drop back to green. she spent this time focusing on her skills and leveling up, partying up here and there with whoever was willing. after the incident, she had lost some of her grip on reality. real life was only a dream at this point. this was real life. 

while her cursor was still orange, she was scouted by a small red guild. however, when she declined their offer, the recruiter that approached her resolved to kill her instead. despite her life being on the line, olivia couldn’t muster up the courage to fight, frozen like when she watched selene and leon duke it out. she would have been dead if it had not been for a player who had come across the altercation and saved her. 

some time after that, her cursor went back to green and she was brought into a green guild. she was with them for a couple months before they kicked her out and left her behind in her sleep during one of their trips. there were rumors that she had killed fellow guild members in the past and was plotting to kill them as well, despite having a green cursor. they didn’t want to risk it.

and with that, olivia was alone again. 

she really believed that she was destined to be a solo player forever. destined to not belong anywhere. she didn’t have a mount or a pet due to the fear of it leaving her too. so she continued solo for a few months again.

olivia found that she was good at partying up and parting ways. it saved her from the attachment and eventual ache from being left alone again, especially if she had no hopes from the start.

however, a particular individual who partied up with her more than one — maybe even became friends with her and farmed with her on one of the floors — happened to be a catalyst member. 

she would have declined their offer to join the guild but two things: 1) she was afraid of dying like the close call from last time and 2) she had grown somewhat fond of her new friend (despite the obvious trust issues she now harbors)

so ever since then, she’s been with catalyst! obviously she didn’t feel 100% at home because of her fear of being left behind, but as time passes, she feels better about the entire situation. she also had mixed feelings about their orange status in the beginning, but she doesn’t really care anymore. at least she’s not alone.

in terms of personality, the way she carries herself varies on a person-to-person basis, but she’s generally pretty wary of her surroundings. upon entering a room, she immediately scans the area before feeling any bit at ease.

she’s lost touch of her motivation to finish the game, but she’s out here trying to survive anyway!

C://PLOTS/WANTED.TXT

someone who happened to witness the incident between olivia, selene, and leon from afar (this can go any direction tbh; they could’ve confronted her at some point, or maybe it just happened to be a passing thing and this is an add-on to another connection)

the player who rescued her from the red guild member (maybe she owes them or maybe they did it out of kindness; may or may not have seen each other again after oOoOo)

player who recruited her into catalyst after partying up with her a couple times, etc.

former party members! she’s been in many, many parties at different points of her velia experience, so it’d be interesting to have that variation of people who’ve known her as different iterations of olivia (if that makes sense)

they knew each other in the real world, whether it be online or in real life

they want to kill her but something is stopping them

maybe they knew her earlier in the game before selene and leon were eliminated and it’s like “tf happened to u where r ur two buddies” once they reunite (cue her having to revisit the incident)

an “i don’t need your help” type of thing where your character is trying to white knight or even just lend a hand and she’s is like No Thanks

exes sort of thing? a girl was Lonely as a solo!

more people that left her for different reasons while she was solo DSLJKGHSDG

a sibling-type relationship where your character feels obligated to protect olivia but not as much in a white knight type of way

[harryimaginedstories]

I’m happy for You

Hello! This is a request and because of that inspired by the song ‘Stone Cold’ by Demi. I recommend you to listen to it whilst reading. I know it’s taken me ages to come up with a story and I very much hope the person who requested it sticked around long enough to read this short little one shot. I hope you’re all well! x

Plot: Dinner is really hard to enjoy when Y/N notices her ex, Harry, is on a date.

Warnings: Nothing but angst and fluff ahead so I’d say no.

Request: Yes.

Pic isn’t mine but I do love the hat.

He looked so good. And I hated him for it.  For once he wasn’t wearing one of his flashy and bright suits that only he could pull of, but instead was dressed in a simple black shirt and a pair of dark and washed out jeans.  It wasn’t his choice of clothing that made my heart sink.  Harry looked good. Meaning he looked like he was doing fine. His cheeks were pink from blushing and his eyes sparkled with joy. The mouth I knew was soft and warm to kiss was pulled into a wide smile that made my stomach flutter with longing. I wanted to know what it was that made him smile like that. I needed to know why he was so happy. It hurt to be excluded.  And his stupid hair. Why did the short look suit him so well? He looked soft and adorable, so much so my fingers tickled with the need to reach out and touch him.  But I wasn’t allowed to do that anymore. Only she was.  The female he had clutching to his arm was pretty. Her lips were painted a dark red I knew he must be crazy about, her hair was long and a thick blond, blonder than any other girls’ hair I’d ever seen that still looked as if it was the natural colour and when she looked up at him her eyes widened to reveal the most stunning shade of blue.  She was pretty and she had him, the Harry who used to be mine and I both envied and hated her for it. 

“Y/N, you can’t look at him like that I’m sorry.” 

Eileen’s soft voice murmured the words into my ear gently, aware that she was pulling me out of a trance and away from my ex boyfriend. Her hand squeezed my arm and slowly nudged me to turn away and to give my attention to the people we’d come to the restaurant with so that I would at least pretend to be part of the conversation.  I knew I was doing a poor job, though. It’s hard to smile when your heart is breaking.  Why was he happy? And how? I was living with half of my soul missing and he sat there, drinking and eating dinner with a new girlfriend and a smile that was big and honest decorating his beautiful features. 

“I’ll be back in a minute.” 

Kim who was in the middle of talking about something funny that happened at work shot me a worried glance before looking at Eileen who gave me a soft smile and nod. 

“Toiled? Need me to come with you?”

“Yes and no I think I can manage. I’ll only be a minute.”

I jumped off my chair and hurried towards where I knew the restrooms were without glancing back at the person I missed so dearly. The door of the ladies’ room fell shut behind me and finally I could breathe in deeply. I wasn’t crying. That was at least a small victory in a shitty situation and for the first time my hands weren’t shaking that bad.  The last time I’d seen Harry it’d all been much more awkward, especially when I’d run off and jumped into a taxi in the middle of a busy Londoner street so I could escape the situation as fast as possible. He’d seen me, he must have, and the thought of him confronting me about it made my cheeks burn with embarrassment. How might that conversation go, I wondered as I stared at my reflection in the mirror? Hey, Y/N, I was wondering... why exactly did you run off like a crazy person the other night? Ugh. Why was I like this? Oh well... at least my makeup wasn’t messed up and the bit of concealer I’d smeared on did a pretty good job at hiding my red cheeks. Still... I wasn’t as good looking as the girl he had taken to sit by his side. 

“Y/N.” 

The way he used to say my name was forever burned into my memory, so vividly in fact that I could hear them replay in my mind just as if he was whispering them into my ear.

“I love you, Y/N. I always have.”

We were a sappy couple, Harry and I. So in love. Looking at him first thing in the morning when his body was naked and wet from the shower he’d taken, hair dripping onto the soft skin... it was a sight that made me melt every time and turn to hide under the covers before he would notice my flushed cheeks. Harry would know of course, always aware when there were eyes on him and he’d know instantly where my thoughts were going. 

“I know you fancy me,” Harry would love to joke, “M’hard to resist, aren’t I?”

“You’re full of yourself.” 

But really he was right. I was crazy about him and in love with all of my heart. I still was. It was difficult to know that Harry didn’t feel that way about me anymore. I’d made his heart beat faster once and now I probably didn’t earn the slightest reaction anymore. Well... maybe embarrassment. I took a deep breath. Harry was here and he was happy and there was nothing I could do about it. Not that I wanted to change his mood either. It was probably because I loved him still that I wanted Harry to be happy, even when it meant it was with a woman with blonde hair and the shade of lipstick I knew I would never pull off.  So really all I had to do was get the courage to face him again.

“Okay. Woman up.”

I stepped out of the bathroom with the fakest smile pulling at my lips and eyes that were still very far from crying, ready to be strong and totally over it, only to (lucky me!) walk straight into his chest. Fuck.

“Hi.”

Hi. That’s all? And why did he sound so fucking calm? I might as well have been his neighbour’s daughter that came over to lend a pound of flour from him. His tone was kind and the smile he wore genuine, like he was glad to find an acquaintance so unexpectedly.

“Hey, Harry.”

Up close he looked even more perfect. His lips were so pink and pillowy soft, his eyes filled with emotion upon finding mine and when his hand reached out to push a strand of hair from my face it made my heart flutter. How could he look so much like my Harry and still be the furthest away from being just that?

“Didn’t see you earlier. Did you just come here?”

My breath hitched and his eyes furrowed when I took a small step back. 

“Are you alright?”

But I couldn’t form an answer. We were so different. I’d seen him the moment my feet stepped into this restaurant, felt his presence like an energy crushing into me and warming my body from within. And Harry... he only noticed I was there because I’d physically knocked into him. I’d lost my spell on him and my eyes watered at the thought that I would probably forever be under his.

“I’m happy for you, Harry,” was all I managed to murmur before brushing past his shoulder and towards my friends. 

They didn’t question me when I sat back down with watering eyes and they didn’t comment it when I stayed silent. It was obvious what was wrong and both, Eileen and Kim knew what had happened when they noticed Harry walk from the narrow hallway in the back to his chair and date. He looked distraught and deeply lost in his own head.

“We can go home,” Eileen offered quietly but I shook my head, trying to smile.

Harry was over me and I needed to come to terms with that and be somehow happy to know that the guy I loved as okay. 

”I’m okay. Let’s just stay and enjoy dinner.”

What I didn’t know though was that the pretty blonde at Harry’s side was his neighbour (funny enough), who’d been nice enough to watch his cat while he’d been on tour and who he’d decided to take out for a nice dinner to say thank you.  Not a date. Not ever. Harry’s heart burned at the thought of me thinking that he was okay when in reality absolutely nothing in his life was even close to being okay without me with him. He missed me. Every inch of his skin prickled and every muscle in his body ached with the intense pain of knowing that I was only feet away from him but that there were worlds between us.

“Are you okay, H?” Saide looked at him with worried eyes and it was only now that Harry noticed that he hadn’t said a word in several minutes. Instead he’d been staring at me where I sat at the table with two people he only knew from brief encounters. 

He noticed how my food remained untouched and how I sat with my back tensed and rigid.  Fuck. He missed me more than what he liked to admit. 

“That girl over there,” Saide spoke quietly, “That’s her, right? Your ex.”

Ex. Harry hated that term. I was so much more than that. I was his lover once and he was pretty sure that I was his soulmate still. But an ‘ex’ I was not. No way did that term ever describe what our relationship had turned out to be, regardless of its end.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to go talk to her?” 

Harry hissed. “S’nothing to talk about, Saide. She’s... she’s better off without me.”

Saide shifted in her seat. “Don’t take this the wrong way but she doesn’t look that great to me, Harry. I wouldn’t say she’s better off or fine even. She looks like she’s in pain and so do you.”

His chest ached and when Harry dared glance at me once more his lips parted. Saide wasn’t wrong. To him I looked as beautiful as I’d always had, but there was a change in my appearance. My neck was bent in a way he was sure it must leave me aching the next day and when I tried to force myself to eat some of my food the fork in my hand shook heavily. 

“You don’t... I mean you wouldn’t hate me if I went to talk to her for a moment, would you?”

Saide smiled. “Of course not.”

Harry nodded and with an unfamiliar sense of anxiety he got up and made his way to where I was. He was so nervous his knees felt like jelly. The shoulder he touched me on was cold beneath his fingers and when I turned to look at him the heart in his chest dropped to the very bottom of his stomach.  If we weren’t in public right now with dozens of people around and watching us, he was sure I would be crying right now.

“Y/N.”

“Harry, I think you should just leave her alone,” Kim muttered but before he or Eileen could’ve said anything further my body was wrapped up in Harry’s arms and my head was hidden away in his neck. He just couldn’t help himself. 

Just like earlier in the hallway the magic between us drew him in and this time there was nothing that could’ve kept him from embracing my body and hold me to his.

“M’not leaving,” Harry murmured, more to me in his arms than as reply to Kim’s words, “Y/N, you hear me? M’not.” 

The embrace came sudden and with my face pressed up against the warm skin of his collarbones it felt as if I could breathe for the first time in months. My lungs burned under the pressure. Never did I think that I would get to smell him again and I almost smiled at how ridiculous it was to miss something so insignificant as somebody’s scent. Harry understood though as he himself couldn’t keep from sighing upon burying his nose in my hair.

“Harry.” 

His stomach fluttered at my whine.

“Let’s go outside for a minute,” he proposed, “Need to talk to you.”

I nodded, almost dizzy from the surreality of the situation and whimpered quietly when Harry removed his hold on me so I could slip from the chair, only to have his arms wrap around my shoulders the moment my feet touched the ground. For the first time that night my smile was genuine. I had him back! Harry was here and talking to me and all of a sudden it physically hurt how much I had been missing him. How had I ever managed to cope with this kind of pain caused only by his absence? Suddenly everything seemed to be brighter. Maybe things would be okay after all. Well, that was until I found her face. Her pretty and kind face. And when her eyes found mine I noticed her red lips part with shock.  Oh god. What was I doing? I was ruining this woman’s lovely night with a wonderful guy simply because I couldn’t stop moping around right in front of hi eyes. And of course ever caring Harry would try to cheer me up before returning to his new girlfriend. No. I couldn’t take Harry from her after he’d left me. She had a right on a nice date and a good evening with him and to whatever that may lead. My feet stopped moving.  Harry turned to me with a confused expression. “Y/N-”

“You shouldn’t leave her hanging like this,” I defended quietly and was about to shrug him off when the blonde shot from her seat. Oh god. If she was to slap me that would be okay and so deserved.

But no, the girl gave me a smile, picked up her plate and marched over to where Eileen and Kim were sitting where she without hesitating for a moment took my seat. I watched in shock how she held out her hand for my friends to shake and I tensed when I heard her speak:

“Hi! I’m Saide, a friend of Harry’s.”

Friend. Eileen shot me a surprised glance before taking the girl’s hand and introducing herself as well. I turned to Harry who grinned down at me and when his hand reached for mine I let him take it. Friend?

“Just a friend, love,” Harry confirmed, “Now come on.”

Outside the streets were empty aside from few people gathered in groups having a smoke and when Harry pulled me further away from the entrance I felt myself relax. It was cold (though I had Harry’s jacket around my shoulders before my skin could even shudder) and the freshness of the air combined with the beauty of the night sky made me want to forget all about the uncomfortable conversation we were about to have.  Though when Harry stopped and I let my back rest against the stone wall of the building the discomfort drained from my veins. It was just Harry, I realized, no stranger who’d judge me or wish me harm. This was the nicest person I knew and somebody I loved dearly. He stepped around my body so he his was shielding me from the wind and when I dared reaching up to brush my fingers against the soft skin of his cheek he hummed.

“I’m really not okay without you, Harry.” 

The whispered confession had his pink lips part and for a moment his eyes fell shut. My hand was taken in his and he held it against his cheek, keeping it there so he could press sweet kisses to it by turning his head in my palm.

“I miss you,” I continued quietly, “Miss you more than I thought possible. I’m sorry I messed tonight up and I’m sorry I was such a shitty girlfriend to you but I... I can’t cope without you anymore.”

Every word followed a kiss to my hand, my wrist, my arm... Harry listened intently and the more I opened up the deeper the sorrow he felt ached in his chest. Harry’s free hand met my left side and pulled me into him gently.

“You weren’t a shit girlfriend,” he murmured, his warm breath fanning over he exposed skin of my arm, “You still are the most amazing person I ever had the chance to meet. If anything I owe you an apology for being a crappy boyfriend.”

I shook my head but bit back what I wanted to say next because when our eyes locked I realized that there was nothing that needed to be said out loud. He was Harry and I was Y/N and the two of us always understood what was going on in the other’s head. It’s what had made our relationship so wonderful in the first place. His nose brushed mine and my eyes closed. I hadn’t even noticed him coming this close to me but before I could catch a breath his hands were on either side of my head and his chest was pressed against my own and the two of us were kissing. The short curls of his tickled my hands and his mouth opened against mine when a groan fell from it, caused by my fingers pulling and scratching his head. His hand travelled to my cheek and I giggled when his other tickled my waist before grasping it tighter and bringing me closer to him so he could deepen the kiss. I was dizzy and so was he, the both of us so drunk on each other it must’ve looked laughable from afar. 

I wanted to tell him that I loved him.  He wanted to tell me that he loved me.  But after being separated for so long, left with nothing but dreaming and yearning for the other day in and day out... there was nothing either of us needed more than to feel the other’s skin. In that moment I would’ve given everything to be home with him, be that his place or mine.

“Soon,” Harry moaned into my neck and I hissed when his teeth bit into the sensitive skin, “M’taking you home soon, Y/N. Just- can’t let you go yet. Need a minute and... just-”

“I know,” I breathed into the shell of his ear, “I know, me too.”

And so we stayed, embraced and caught up in each other’s arms, kissing and sighing as the intensity of being reunited crushed our bodies repeatedly until we were so high on the happiness we were feeling all that tumbled from our lips were giggles.

I really hope you like this one... I just couldn’t leave the story as a sad one with him actually being on a date and her ending up alone. So yeah... happy couple finding each other again is a bit nicer isn’t it?

Masterlist

[reddieaddict]

You’re Gonna Live Forever In Me (Part 3/4)

Prequel to Richie’s Eulogy

Official Cast

Part 1 Part 2

A/N: This chapter is when we finally get to see Richie in all his hispanic glory! Haha I hope you all like how I characterized the Losers. I know it’s kinda different than how other people do, but I wanted to spice things up. Bill’s parents are nicer in my fic than in Canon, but I liked to imagine eventually they help and became nicer. Whatever though. I also added a lot more humor into this chapter. I fucking love doing dialogue and really hope you all find it funny. Enjoy. 

Pairings: Reddie with a slutty side of Stenbrough and some implied Benverly 

Summary: It’s senior year and Eddie has began to notice Richie exhibiting strange behavior. He is worried he might be hiding something, but doesn’t know how to confront Richie about it without setting him off and making matters worse.

December 1994

It was Christmas in Derry, Maine, and just as it’s been since the conception of the club, all seven losers found themselves in the Denbrough’s household, preparing for their annual holiday dinner. Eddie, Mike, Ben, and Bev’s parents preferred to celebrate Christmas Eve as a family, which, coincidentally (and conveniently), allowed the Losers to spend actual Christmas Day with each other. Stan was Jewish as fuck, so he could do whatever the hell he wanted on the Christmas; and Richie’s parents didn’t care what he did any other day of the year, so why would Christmas be any different? For some of the Losers, this was rather poetic; since their friends were more of a family to them than anything their parents could hope or care to be.

  Despite having become accustomed to his parent’s active indifference, the holiday season was still an agonizingly difficult time for Richie. This was the time of year when the world seemingly would mock and torture him with imagery of happy families, as if to say “You see this? You will never have this!”  Of course, this wasn’t really the case, but it sure felt like it was to Richie.  Seeing all these families on TV, in advertisements, and even around town indulging in their pseudo-domestic bliss that came with the yuletide had Richie’s heart set ablaze with jealousy. “How can people be so happy? Why couldn’t he have that? Why did his parents have to be so awful?” These questions loomed over Richie, taunting him.

  Unable to make the pessimistic voices in his head dissipate, he figured if he spoke louder and didn’t stop, he could drown them out enough to make the season tolerable. Unfortunately this made him especially intolerable to everyone, except the Losers. Richie has always liked to crack inappropriate jokes and be the center of attention, but this was taking it to a whole new level. Anything and everything out of his trashmouth was either a crass joke or an obscenity, making his nickname even more fitting. The Losers weren’t thrilled about this, but, being aware of his situation, had developed more patience for him throughout the years. This didn’t mean that there weren’t times when Richie crossed thresholds and sent them into a fury.

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME, ASSHOLE!” Having Richie pestering him all day, had Eddie fed up. “I don’t care if there is a mistletoe under every fucking doorframe, I am not making out with you!”  

“Baby, don’t be such a prude! Es Navidad! Dame un besito! Andale mi nino lindo! Presioso!” Eddie hated PDA and refused to kiss Richie outside of the privacy of their rooms, but it was their first Christmas as a couple and Richie wanted to make it special. So, he decided to bring out the big guns: talking in Spanish. Whenever Richie spoke in his native language, Eddie would melt and Richie could get him to do almost anything. 

Eddie froze in place as fire spread across his cheeks, giving away just how effective his boyfriend’s tactic had been.  “Umm. . . uh. . . ahem! NO! Stop it! I know what you’re doing and that is not going to work this time! I have to get back into the kitchen to help Mrs.Denbrough with dinner! You’ve already distracted me long enough!”

“Bebe, no seas asi! Amorsito! Nene!” Richie cooed as he wrapped himself around Eddie’s shoulders. “Solo un besito chiquito! Aaaandaleeee!”

“Fuck off.” Eddie pushed him away and began to make his way back into the kitchen. “If you keep annoying me, I won’t kiss you for the rest of the week.”

“Hijo de tu puta madre!” Richie mumbled under his breath, crossing his arms over his chest, and a child-like pout settling on his rosy lips.

“I KNOW WHAT THE FUCKING MEANS, DUMBASS!” Eddie retorted as he disappeared behind the kitchen door.

“Oh shit. . .” This is when Richie knew he fucked up.

“So, what happened? Did you get Eddie to kiss you or what?” Stan smirked as he continued to set the table. All of the Losers had been setting up for dinner, while Richie was on his quest for affection.

  “Of course he didn’t! Why do you even bother asking, knowing how Eddie is?” Mike answered, beating Richie to the punch. 

“Because then he has to admit to us that he didn’t, making his failure humiliating as well as disappointing.” Stan looked directly into Richie’s eyes with a condescending self-satisfaction. 

“Wow! You’re evil. . . and I think it’s making fall in love with you all over again.” Bill placed a delicate kiss onto his boyfriend’s temple as he passed by him with a stack of plates in his hands. Through years of speech therapy his stutter had pretty much disappeared, except in the instances when he found himself inebriated. 

Richie was none too pleased with getting ambushed by the people who he was starting to regret calling his friends. “Honestly, I don’t get what you’re being so smug about, Staniel. My Eddie is a classy lady with decorum, which more than I can say for you. Don’t think any of us have forgotten about catching you bobbing for Bill’s apple last Halloween!” 

“CAN YOU NOT!?” Bev interjected, disgusted with the memory of Bill and Stan mid-blowjob being forced back into her mind. “How are any of SUPPOSED to forget about it if you keep bringing it up, Richie!?”

“Yeah, and my mom is in the next room, idiot!” Bill’s parents were aware and supportive of his son’s relationship, but that didn’t mean they were interested in knowing the details, especially such graphic ones. 

“Buscame y me vas a encontrar! That means come for me and you shall find me, Big Bill. I wouldn’t have to put you on blast like that, if you kept your bitch in check.” 

“RICHIE!” Ben was fed up with the conversation. He knew there was no real malice behind any of their words, but this was hardly appropriate banter for Christmas dinner with Bill parents. The Denbroughs knew the Losers had quite the potty mouths, but expected them to cut that shit out on Christmas. “Why don’t you help us finish setting up the table, instead of arguing? Dinner is ready and we need to have everything set up, before Eddie and Mrs.Denbrough bring in the serving dishes!”

“Yeah, I think that is a good idea. God knows the last thing I want to think about during dinner is blowjobs.” Mike was by no means a prude, but was not eager to picture his friends getting it on, either. 

“Agreed.” Bev stated as she finished placing the utensils on the table.

They finished setting up and took their seats just as Eddie entered the dinning room with the first platter.  He placed it in the open space at the center of the table and took his seat beside his boyfriend. “Hola, mi amor!” he said completely butchering the usually romantic Spanish language, with the thickest accent anyone had ever heard, but Richie didn’t care. The sentiment was sweet nonetheless and he thought it was adorable when Eddie tried to speak Spanish.

“Eddie-Bear! My Love! Why are you sitting there, when there is a perfectly comfortable seat here on daddy’s lap?” Richie knew just how to ruin a cute moment. 

“Can you behave!? Bill’s mom worked very hard on this dinner! Don’t be rude and wrangle your trashmouth!” Eddie looked up at Richie, who still comically dwarfed him even when seated.

“Whatever, bitch. Don’t be trippin’ balls, you know I got this shit.” He said with a straight face and not a hint of humor to his voice, knowing this would set Eddie off. God, how he enjoyed teasing his boyfriend!!

“Listen here, motherfuck-“

“Eddie!” just then, at the most incriminating moment, Bill’s parents walked into the room, each with a dish in their grasp. “I am so disappointed in you! You know we don’t allow foul language at the dinner table, especially on Christmas, young man!” 

“I’m sorry, Mrs.Denbrough. It won’t happen again.” Eddie avoided her eyes at all costs, as if to catch them he would cause him spontaneously combust. He reached under the table and gave Richie a hard pinch to the sensitive flesh of his thighs. A vengeance that was subtle, but very much effective. 

“OUCH! You dick!” Richie whisper yelled, only audible to Eddie, and Bev who sat beside him. She giggled.

  “You deserve that! You got poor little Eddie in trouble!” she teased.

“Don’t talk about me like I’m some defenseless creature. I’m a man!” Eddie resented his height, and it infuriated him when anybody made him feel weak because of it. “And, yes, you did deserve that, trashmouth.” 

“Whatever you say, my little love-muffin. Ay que lindo mi bebe henanito!” Richie knew Eddie hated when he talked to him like a baby, which is exactly why he did it so often.

“Uuuuuuuugh!” Eddie was exhausted and just wanted to enjoy dinner. “Whatever.” The Losers exchanged amused looks. Eddie and Richie always knew how to put on a show, even if they didn’t mean to. Well, at least Eddie didn’t mean to.

  “Alright, everybody! Let’s dig in!” Mr. Denbrough said wanting to change topic. Bill’s parents adored having the Losers over for Christmas, even more so since Georgie’s death. It was a pleasant distraction from his absence, though nothing could ever fully make their pain go away. It was still nice to have a house full of children, even if said children weren’t really kids anymore. 

  As they all began to enjoy their dinner, the couples segregated into their own individual conversations. Mike, being the eligible bachelor that he is, dipped in from one conversation to another. Mike was so charming and intelligent, and always adapted so well to any crowd, so it was effortless for him to jump from one topic to another. Ben and him had a particularly strong bond and could find themselves lost in conversation for hours. It was probably due to their similar qualities and shared interests. One could say they were Richie and Bev’s counterpart; both platonic, both incredible close.

  The evening went on pleasantly, as it did every year. Eddie and Richie, surprisingly, bickered very little. Mostly because no one was paying them any attention, so there was no motivation for Richie to rile him up. Their conversation consisted mostly of cute inside jokes and sweet nothings. It would have been perfect, if not for Richie’s constant glances in Mr. and Mrs. Denbrough’s direction. As the boys spoke, Richie would face Eddie, but his eyes would dart towards the parents and linger just a bit too long. Then he’d catch himself, and snap his attention back to his boyfriend. Richie has always had a short attention span, but this was different. It seemed more like Richie COULDN’T get his eyes off the Denbroughs, rather than being incapable of paying attention to Eddie’s words.

Annoyed with Richie’s behavior, he turned to see what it was that he found so fascinating. What he found was a thing of fairytales. There were Mr. and Mrs. Denbrough, leaned into one another with her hands lovingly enveloped within his, as they engaged in their own conversation. The way he looked into her eyes was that of a man who could see the answers to the universe and find treasures untold within her emerald irises. An incandescent luminance seemed to radiate from them, and it was breathtaking in the most understated way possible.

   Eddie was touch by such a display of unconditional love, but couldn’t understand why Richie found it so hypnotizing. It’s not like it was the first time they had seen Bill’s parents being affectionate toward each other. What made this instance so special? Eddie turned back to face Richie, who seemed to realize he had caught on to what he was doing. “You okay?”

“Yeah, totally.” Richie responded as he cleared his throat and sat up on his chair making him seem a whole foot taller.  Whatever it was that Richie found so engaging about the Denbroughs, it was clear to Eddie that Richie DID NOT want to talk about it. Knowing that asking him anything else about it would just aggravate him and ruin what has been a beautiful night, he relented. 

“Okay.” He reached out for Richie’s hand and began to caress his knuckles with the pads of his thumbs. Richie turned to face him again, relaxing into the gesture. Eddie looked into his ebony eyes (noting to himself how much they resembled onyx) with sincere adoration and gifted him with the warmest of smiles. “I love you.”

  A smile grew onto Richie’s face; accentuating the creases besides his eyes, a sign Eddie’s words had meant more to him in that moment than they usually would have. And that was saying a something. “I love you, too.”

“Oh my god, I am so stuffed! Eddie you guys did such an amazing job! It was DELICIOUS!” Ben plopped himself on the couch and patted his belly. After dinner everyone had helped out with the dishes, making the whole process much quicker, and they were now ready to enjoy their movie marathon in the living room. 

“Thank you, but it was honestly all Mrs. Denbrough. I just did whatever she ordered me to do.” Eddie said humbly, seating himself in his usual spot on the floor, next to Richie.

“Hmmm. . . and what is it I have to do to get you to do the same for me, Eds?” Richie draped his arm around Eddie’s shoulder and pulled him closer to him. 

“Don’t be fucking gross! I just ate!” Stan cried from his seat on Bill’s lap. “I swear I’m gonna go all exorcist and projectile vomit all over you, if you don’t cut the shit, Richie!” 

“Okay now you’re the one being gross.” Bev grimaced at Stan’s words. “I’d rather talk about the film selection, than talk on any bodily functions or fluids.” 

“I second that motion!” Mike said as he sprawled out a large selection of VHS’s on the table in the center of the living room. Everyone leaned in to inspect the titles. “What do you guys think about a Christmas movie?”

“Isn’t that a little cliché?” Bill chimed.

  “Well when else are you supposed to watch a Christmas movie?” Ben quipped. “It’s not like we would watch A Christmas Story in July. Well, I don’t know about you, Bill, but we wouldn’t.”

“Appropriate or not, I don’t feel like watching a Christmas movie!” Richie interjected. 

“What about a scary movie!?” Mike suggested excitedly, as he held up the new Nightmare on Elm Street movie. 

“Yes!!!” Bev and Richie cheered in unison, then smiled at each other, proud of just how much they think alike. 

“We can’t watch a scary movie! You know how easily Eddie gets scared, you guys!” Bill warned as he directed a concerned look at Eddie.

“Shut the fuck up! I‘m not scared, you twig-bitch!” Bill was taken back by Eddie’s unexpected outburst. There was a reason Richie and Eddie made such a perfect couple. Amongst many other things, they shared the same lighting wit and venomous tongue. “Don’t project your pussy boyfriend’s fears on to me!”

“I love you so fucking much!” Richie beamed with pride as he hugged Eddie with all his might. “I think it’s so fucking HOT when you get snarky like that! Mmh,” he whispered into Eddie ear, only to find himself chastised by the petite spitfire. 

“I resent that, Eddie. I am not scared; I just think horror movies are stupid! They are all so predictable and exactly the same.” Stan attempted to defend himself to no avail. Everyone already knew what Eddie said was true.

  “It’s okay to be afraid, Stan. It’s not that big of a deal.” Mike assured Stan, sympathetically. 

“I’M NOT SCARED! Put on the fucking movie, I don’t care!” Stan was determined to prove his so-called friends wrong! 

“Are you sure, babe?” Bill asked, his words laced with uncertainty.

  “YES, I’M SURE BILL! WHAT THE HELL!?” Stan was disappointed that his boyfriend, out of everyone, didn’t believe in him enough to watch a horror movie. “Just put on the fucking movie!” 

“Okay, people! You heard Curly Sue!” Richie chanted, earning a leer from his ringlet adorned friend and a giggle from Ben. “Let’s get this shit started!” 

Mike took the VHS out of it’s plastic case and inserted it into the player. Everyone made themselves comfortable, paring into their respective couples, ready to enjoy the horror flick. Before they could begin, though, Bill’s parents entered to say goodnight, both ready to head to bed. “Alright, kids! We’re gonna go to bed. It was nice having you over again this year. Have a good night.” Mr. Denbrough said with the typical paternal formality one would expect from a father.

“There are plenty of snacks in the pantry, if you kids get hungry. Feel free to scavenge through.” Mrs. Denbrough added. 

“WAIT, MRS. DENBROUGH!” Bev yelled, startling Bill’s parents with the sudden exclamation.

“What is it, Bev!?” Concern littered her petite face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Oh gosh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you! Ha! Ha! It’s just that you’re both under the mistletoe.” She answered bashfully. 

“Oh, I guess we are, huh?” Mr. Denbrough smiled sweetly at his wife and she mirror his expression.

  “KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS!” Everyone except Richie chanted. His stillness garnered the attention of his boyfriend, but Richie would never have noticed. He was lost; disconnect, but burdened. As the Denbroughs shared a kiss that could not be classified as anything other than a quick peck, Richie stared intensely and Eddie’s heart began to race. Eddie immediately recognized the expression that settled onto his face as the same one that he had on that terrifying September morning. It was unmistakable! It had been so long since he had seen it, but he could never confuse or forget it, even if he tried. It was burned into his memory like a scar.

“Richie. . . “ Eddie whispered warily, forgetting all about the other people in the room, who also seemed to be blissfully unaware of the situation between the two boys, having started to clap and cheer for the Denbroughs. 

“Hmm. Yeah, Eds?” This time around reaching Richie was much easier, as he snapped back into the present almost instantly. Again, just as last time, he immediately tried to overcompensate with smiles and kisses.  “What’s up, baby boy?” he asked nonchalantly as he leaned in for a kiss, which Eddie did not resist. 

“Uh. Nothing.” Eddie learned from his experience last time and decided now was NOT the time to interrogate his boyfriend about what just happened. He would leave it for another time when they could both be alone.  Richie just responded with another smile, only this time, the creases besides his eye did not make an appearance. 

“Hey you two! Are you ready to watch the movie or do we need to give you some privacy?” Mike asked from the recliner he had made himself comfortable on. Eddie took notice of the Denbrough’s absence, surmising they had probably gone to bed in the middle of their exchange, and now all eyes here on them.

  “Ha! Ha! Very funny.” He said sarcastically. “Press play, we’re ready.” 

“Okay, but no making out during the movie!” Mike taunted with a sing-song tone one would expect from a child. 

“Uh, when have we ever done that around you guys? Why don’t you say that to Stan and Bill!? They’re the ones that are always all over each other!” Eddie complained, in his tenor whine.

  “Don’t be a fucking hater, midge.” Stan retorted. 

  “You know, Staniel, I think I like you better with Bill’s dick in your mouth.” Eddie said glaring into Stan’s eyes, a smile spreading on to his lips. “At least then you’re quiet.”

“Oh fuck! Ha! Ha! Ha!” Ben cackled. “Damn, dude.” 

‘Okay! Okay! I’m pressing play now, everyone shut the fuck up!” Bev announced, taking the remote from Mike. She, too, had thought it was funny, but thought Stan had been humiliated enough for one day. 

Eddie found himself unable to pay attention through the duration of the movie, still concerned with Richie’s strange behavior. He instinctively wanted to be blunt and forward, but he knew better. If he just came out and asked what was wrong, Richie would just flip out on him again. No, he needed to be smart about this. He settled on dealing with this on their walk home, which wouldn’t be for few more hours. This gave him plenty of time to figure out how to approach the subject. He knew that no matter how much prep time he had, Richie would still end up upset somehow, but it didn’t matter. This was something that had to be addressed. He silently prayed to whatever deity would listen, to bless him with the same resilient determination when he was force to face off with a furious Ricardo Alonzo Tozier.

It was now a little passed midnight as Richie and Eddie trekked their way over to the latter’s house, their gloved hands laced together and swinging between them. It had been a quiet walk for the most part, but not uncomfortably so. Both of them found themselves content in the other’s presence, even if neither spoke a word. It was strange to see the couple so well known for their loud and heated arguments be so serene. As heartwarming as it all was, Eddie knew this was just the calm before the storm. Guilt began to overtake him and he decided to break through the stillness.

  “You know you can talk to me, right? I mean, like, about ANYTHING! I am here for you.” He said looking up at his raven-haired, statuesque boyfriend, forcing the calmest tone could possibly muster. 

“I know, baby-boy.” Richie responded avoiding eye contact, knowing where this conversation was going and wanting to evade it at all costs. 

  “So, um. . . what’s going on?” That was EXACTLY what Eddie had promised himself not to ask, and then he fucking went off and asked it anyway. He was so frustrated with himself. “Ahem. . . Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is cool. It was a nice night, right?” Richie asked sullenly. 

“Yeah, of course.”

“Then, let’s not ruin it. I know where you’re going with this and I appreciate it, babe, but I don’t want to get into it.” Eddie was surprised and slightly hurt by Richie’s bluntness.  

“I’m not trying to ruin anything.” Eddie’s eyes darted away from his boyfriend and glued themselves onto the pavement beneath them. “I am just concerned.”

“I know you are, and like I said I appreciate that, but nothing is wrong. If something WERE wrong, I would tell you, Eds.” Richie’s tone was becoming more pointed. “No you wouldn’t.” Eddie said under his breath, which came out as a small cloud due to the freezing temperature of the evening.

“What did you say?” Richie stopped in his tracks and pulled his hand away. “What did you say, Eddie?” 

“Nothing.”

“No, go ahead say what you’re really thinking! You wanted to talk; well here’s your chance! Talk!” There was no going back now. 

“I-I-I . . . um. . . “ Eddie hesitated as he turned back to face Richie, “I said ‘No, you wouldn’t.’”

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean, Eddie?” Richie inched himself closer.

“It’s just that you never talk to me. I mean you do, but only . . .like, only when you . . .”

“Only when I what? When I run to you after my dad kicks my ass? After my mom throws a bottle at my head and tells me to kill myself? Hmm?! Is that what you can’t seem to say?” Richie was not holding back any punches. “It’s funny how you say you want to talk, but here we are and you aren’t even able to finish that sentence!”

   “It’s not that I can’t say it! I just have to walk on eggshells for you. If I say the wrong thing you get mad at me!” Eddie was starting to regret having brought the whole thing up.

“Oh, so it’s me!?” Richie widened and narrowed his eyes, pointing towards himself.  “So I’m the bad guy!?” 

“Richie, stop it! That is not what I said! Why does there always have to be a villain!? It’s just you and me; two people who care about each other! I am just trying to help…” Eddie tried his hardest to pacify Richie, but it seemed to make no difference. 

“No, bullshit! I tell you everything is fine! I ask you to trust me and you keep fucking digging, Eddie! Why can’t you just let shit be? Why do you have to keep nagging and bitching!? What the fuck do you want from me? If I don’t want to talk about something, maybe its cause I can’t! Has that ever occurred to you?! No, because you don’t fucking care! No, you just want to martyrize yourself! You want to save me! I don’t need saving Eddie. Just let it fucking go! LET! IT! GO!” Richie was full on shouting now, emphasizing the last three words of his rant by shoving his boyfriend. 

Eddie’s amber orbs began to shimmer with tears, but he refused to divert he eyes from Richie’s. “Why . . . Why are you being so mean? I didn’t mean to . . . I- I -I  was just-Ugh!” He could find a way to finish a thought, so overwhelmed with hurt and frustration. 

“You know what?” Regret had begun to sink in. Hurting Eddie was something Richie never wanted to do, but yet here was his Eds, crying because of him. “I-I-I’m just going to go home.” He turned around to walk back in the direction of his house, but before he could take more than one step he felt a small hand latch onto his arm. 

“Wait! Stop!” Eddie began to wipe tear off his face with the hand that was not grasping on to Richie. “No! Don’t leave! Is this what its going be like every time things get difficult? Are you always going to walk away? What’s going to happen when things get to be too hard? When I get to be too annoying? Are you just going to leave me forever?” 

“Eddie, I just can’t right now.” Richie pulled away and continued towards him house in wide strides; he needed to get out of there before he made things worse.

Without a second thought, Eddie chased after him and wrapped his small arms around the taller boy’s midsection, “STOP! DON’T LEAVE! I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY I MADE YOU MAD; I DIDN’T MEAN TO. I’LL LET IT GO, I PROMISE! JUST- PLEASE DON’T LEAVE!” Eddies sobs tore into Richie’s heart. His body trembled as his tears streamed down his cheeks uncontrollably, his voice deteriorating with every word. “Please don’t be mad at me! Please don’t leave me. I love you. I love you, Richie. I’ll let it go! . . . I’ll let it go.”

“Eddie. . .” Richie’s voice was tender and free of the malice that had poisoned it minutes ago. He turned to face Eddie, pulling him into his chest and rocking them side to side. “Shh. . . It’s okay, baby-boy. I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

“I’m sorry. I never wanted to make you mad at me, I swear. I just wanted to help! I’m sorry.” Eddies sobs began to die down, but his face remained buried in Richie’s chest. 

“You have nothing to be sorry about. I’m not mad, bebe. I promise I’m not mad.” Peppering kisses all over Eddie’s head, Richie tightened his embrace. “You did nothing wrong, I’m the one who should apologize. I shouldn’t have said what I said. I’m sorry, I just…It’s just hard sometimes.” 

Moving his arms from Richie’s midsection and wrapping them around his long pale neck, Eddie nestled his face into it’s nook. “I can understand that. I just want you to know that I care. I’m always going care and worry about you. I love you so much, Ricardo Alonzo Tozier! You never have to feel afraid or ashamed to tell me anything. I will always stand by you.”

  Richie pulled Eddie away from him and looked into his eyes tenderly. “I love you too Edward Kaspbrak, so fucking much! I’m not going anywhere, you hear me? I will always stand by you, too!” Eddie’s lips spread into a smile, before leaning in to kiss the taller man.“Your nose is freezing! Let’s go home before you catch pneumonia.”

“Ha! Ha! You’re an idiot, but yeah. I’d really like that.” Just like that, it seemed everything reverted back to normal between them. 

“You know what I’d really like, Eddie Spaghetti?” Oh yeah, Richie had definitely gone back to his normal self. 

“Don’t even THINK we’re gonna have sexy-fun-time, tonight. I am so tired and you definitely need to shower before you get anywhere near my bed.” Eddie foreboded, as they continued their journey home with Richie’s arm draped over his shoulder.

  “Eds, have you learned nothing today? I ALWAYS get my way.” he smirked.

“No, you do not!” Eddie looked up at him with narrow eyes and furrowed brows.

“I got you to kiss me tonight out on the sidewalk. It wasn’t underneath a mistletoe but it still counts as PDA!” Just then, Richie leaned in and stole another kiss from his boyfriend.

“That doesn’t count!” Eddie argued.

“Oh fuck yeah it does! Accept defeat and let me ravage you, Juliet!” Before Eddie could attempt to squirm away, Richie wrapped his arms around his hips and lifted him above him. Tickling Eddie tummy with his nose, Richie began to spin them around, playfully.

Eddie grabbed on to his shoulders in an attempt to stabilize himself as he giggled wildly. “Okay! OKAY! OKAAY!!”

“Does that mean yes sexy-fun-time?!” Richie’s eyebrows wiggled suggestively as he gently returned Eddie onto the pavement.

“Hm, we’ll see,” was all Eddie said as he continued his walk home, leaving Richie behind him.

“Oh, Eds, mi amor! You and I both know what that means.”

Eddie giggled in the distance. 

  Taglist: @bitchardtozier @bloggingandstruggling @11stayradstaybad11 @breakmyreddieheart @reddieformeerkat @purejaeden @julietissue @greywatertozier

[sophie-summer]

Until we’re grey and old

Jake Appretiation Week: Day 7

Tagging: @jakemcspooky and @jakeymckenzie Thanks for this amazing idea, you beautiful girls. I’ve enjoyed this week so much.

Universe : Endless Summer

Words : 2700+

Song : Say you won’t let go - James Arthur

"Jake!" She called him "Jake, come here." despair growing in her voice. "Jaaake"

Sophie didn’t dare move. It was the first time it lasted for more than a few seconds. She feared that if she made the slightest movement it might stop. So she lay very still, lying in the hammock, while Jake ran like hell, half naked,to where she was. His face had an expression of absolute terror and he didn’t seem to notice that Zoey was following him closely at every step he took. Sophie couldn’t help but smile at the scene.

Perhaps she had exaggerated a little too much by calling him with such impatience. In recent months Jake had been especially protective with her. All he needed was a small groan on her part, so Jake would stop her from continuing whatever she was doing. Any protest or argument that occurred to her, became totally useless when it reached her lips. Jake didn’t take no for an answer and that was all.

He stopped in front of her, his hands on his knees and heavy breathing. He had to wait a couple of seconds before he could speak.

"Are you all right, Princess? Does something happen to the baby? "She waved her hand in front of his face to keep him from continuing the endless list of questions.

"Yes, yes, don’t worry. We’re fine. Here, give me your hand." Before Jake began to protest, Sophie took his hand and placed it on her belly.

As if alerted by his father's presence, the baby writhed more tightly inside her. At first Jake didn’t react, but then his eyes widened, and a silly smile formed on his lips, the baby hadn’t been born yet and had already overcome her father's patented smile.

It hadn’t all been a fairy tale. As in all relations had their ups and downs. Only to them, the experience had taught them that confronting them together made it more bearable, but that nevertheless stopped being painful.

They had lived happily. But the time came when both were ready to take the next step. Let their small family of only two members enlarge a little more.

At that point, it was where things became thornier. After abandoning every method of planning and after several months of failed attempts, Sophie decided to go with a doctor, after all, the usual thing was that if you had unprotected sex the result would be a pregnancy, at least in most cases. Afterwards many tests and a couple more days of waiting, they finally received the results. They were  less encouraging than she had expected, the chances of Sophie getting pregnant were very low, to say the least. Finding out about such news was a blow to both. But the one that affected it most was Sophie.

In the days that followed, although she continued with her daily routine as usual, she was more absent than normal, easily distracted, and forgotten the simplest things. Someone who didn’t know her wouldn’t have noticed anything different in her behavior, but Jake, he knew her better than his own shadow. When he couldn’t go with her, sometimes she went for walks to the beach, which were longer each day. On returning she usually had red eyes or wet eyelashes, as always she tried to be strong, smiling even when she didn’t really wanted to do it.

Jake knew that was the way she fought her demons, she faced them and she didn’t give up no matter the defeats she had to put up with until she got it. Not like him, who was still pursued by nightmares and remorse. 

There were nights when she woke up and he wasn’t by her side, sometimes it was a slight whine between dreams, or the screams of a nightmare. She was there in each of those moments. She accompanied him throughout the night, giving him her caresses, her hugs, her words, her kisses and even, her silences, if that was what he needed. But the day, came when it was she who kept them awake.

That night Jake woke up in the darkness, the space at his side that was always occupied by Sophie was empty. He hadn’t perceived the moment she’d awakened. Usually, Jake used to notice. It must have been about five minutes while Jake waited for her to come back. When she didn’t, he began to worry.

He headed for the bathroom, he thought maybe Sophie might be sick and hadn’t woken him up so that at least he could rest.

The image he saw when he turned on the lights shattered his heart. Sophie was sitting on the floor with her head against the wall, like an abandoned doll. Her eyes were practically unrecognizable under the redness and swelling. The dampness of her clothes and the transparent droplets scattered on the floor told the cause of it. She tried not to let the sobs come from her chest, which caused her delicate shoulders to convulse whenever a new wave of crying invaded her.

Jake had seen Sophie collapse like that on rare occasions. In each of them he felt the same impotence that at that moment took hold of him. Something inside him twisted into a knot. He could barely contain the groan that crept up his throat. The only reason he hadn’t finished at her side also crying was because, if he also collapsed it would only be worse for her. So he try to gather the composure he didn’t have.

Immediately Jake sat down beside her, Sophie rested her head on his chest. He wrapped her in his arms and help her tight. There was nothing she needed more than having him by her side. Just to feel him close made her pain numb a bit, with him things were always better, no matter how terrible the situation. She could always trust him when her strength was exhausted. But above all, he would do more than possible for her. That he would never fail, that always, always, always would be by her side no matter what happened.

Jake and Sophie stayed that way all night. He stroked her hair and whispered that everything would be ok and if it wasn’t, he would seek the way that everything was fine, even though he didn’t know how to solve it. For the moment, all he had to do was stay there with her and make her feel safe and loved. 

It wasn’t until dawn that she finally fell asleep, only then Jake dared to take her back to bed, but even so, he couldn’t fall asleep. He kept thinking over and over again, about what he could do, anything that made his Princess feel better, something that would appease her sadness.

A couple of hours later Jake woke her up before he left, with a breakfast tray although it was more than 12 p.m. Two bulging black circles gleamed beneath each of her eyes. He kissed them both and left home without a clear plan of what he would do.

Jake spent most of the day going from one side to the other without being able to find anything useful, it was only when he was about to give up when he found them on a street corner. It was like a sign of destiny. He knew that immediately.

When he returned home, Sophie was a little livelier, though the signs of sadness were still visible in her. He walked over and set the box in front of her. She looked up to him.

"What is it, Joker?" She asked curiously.

"A gift." He just said and left her alone.

Curious, she went to the box to see what was inside. When she removed the lid, she found the most beautiful things she’d ever seen. Inside were two cubs huddled together. Their hair was golden and so fluffy she couldn’t resist caressing them. She didn’t know how long she stood there with them. They were so small and so tender that taking her eyes off them was very difficult.

She turned to look for Jake with the most genuine smile she’d shown in recent days, only to find him leaning against the door frame, arms folded and crooked smile.

"So, did you like your present?" she hated and loved so much that smug smile.

"What do you think?" She asked him back.

"Well, because of the silly smile you have right now in your face, and because you were enthralled with them, plus the brightness in your eyes, I would say that you are forever indebted to me."

She came up to him and hugged him with everything she had. Jake was a blessing and she still didn’t understand how it was just for her.

“Thank you, Jake” she said against his chest and he kissed the top of her head.

Sophie cared for these puppies as she would had done with her children. She loved them and pampered them in a way that sometimes provoked Jake's jealousy, however, every time he saw the smile of joy on her face it was well worth being ignored from time to time.

Sophie still wanted to have her own children, but she had resigned herself. After all, she had a stable life, a job she loved, a place to call home, some lovely dogs and the most wonderful man in the world, one who had been willing to do anything for her, the only one capable of making her heart pound in her chest, the one who had saved her so many times and in every way a person could ever imagine. Life wasn’t perfect. And that was fine.

So, Sophie's surprise wasn’t small when she heard it. At first, her anger was so great with the doctor because she thought she was joking, how dare she play with her feelings? There was no way Sophie could be pregnant, after that same woman had told her it was almost impossible. But there was the key word, almost. That left a margin of open possibilities, even if they were scarce. The doctor had to repeat it about 10 times that it was true, but Sophie only believed her when she heard the baby's heartbeat. From that point on, the tears didn’t cease to fall from her eyes, and the smile on her lips almost split her face in two. She hardly noticed the woman in front of her. There was only room in her head for one thing: she was going to be a mom.

So, the day Sophie decided to give Jake the news, she was terrified. She knew it’d make him as happy or more than she. But likewise she also knew that there was a high probability that he would be angry with her. That was what worried her most. It’d been a month or so sinceshe had heard. She decided to keep the secret because, as the doctor had told her, those pregnancies were usually high risk and only a low percentage came to an end. She recommended her to take special care during the first trimester because at that time it was where spontaneous abortions occurred more frequently.

That's why she didn’t tell him, what need was there to give him illusions, when most of the odds said that baby might not be born? At least if that happened, if she lost their baby, Jake wouldn’t have to suffer from disappointment of losing something that would have become part of his plans and his future. No, he didn’t deserve that. Sophie was going to do her best to stop him from going through that. She would keep the secret until it was necessary. She had been especially careful not to show any drastic changes that might alert Jake. However, avoiding alcohol had been the hardest part.

By the fourth month, her belly had grown just inches, enough to believe she had only gained a little weight, nothing in her had made Jake suspect of the state she was in. Although soon her little belly would begin to grow and the secret she’d kept for herself would be very evident. She had no choice but to tell him.

Despite having passed the first trimester without incident, it had helped her build a little more hope. Maybe, just maybe, that miracle she had been waiting for long was taking place in her womb, and perhaps her baby would be part of that small minority that was born.

However, having made the decision didn’t mean that doing it was easy. She was nervous and impatient in equal parts. How would she say it? She refused to rehearse in front of a mirror, but the moment she saw him, that would be of no use to her. How would Jake react? Would he be mad at her about keeping the secret or would he be so happy he wouldn’t mind at all? Sophie kept moving from one side to the other, Zack and Zoey had grown tired of following her around, instead choosing to sit on the carpet in the living room to watch her infinite sway.

Sophie slid down a wall until she was sitting on the floor. Immediately her puppies came to her side.

"Come here Zoey, I have to ask you something." Sophie cupped her head in her hands and looked at Zoey's eyes. "If you were pregnant, how would you tell the dad?" The only response she received was a lick in the cheek. "Zack?" He just raised his eyebrows and rested his head on her lap.

She leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes. Until then, the only ones who had knowledge of her pregnancy were she and her doctor, it wasn’t fair that someone else knew about it when the father didn’t do. Besides, in that way, she made sure no one was going to talk too much. She wanted Jake to be the next person to find out, but if she didn’t let it go, she would go crazy. She took the cell phone from the counter and dialed the number of someone who, although he couldn’t help with the news that she’d give Jake, at least he would help release some tension. The phone rang a couple of times before he answered.

"I thought you forgot about me." She couldn’t help herself from smiling. Just hearing Diego’s voice made her feel a little better.

Eventually, with the conversation, Sophie's level of nervousness had diminished considerably, so much that she had completely forgotten what had led her to call him in the first place. They were talking for about an hour. That time was plagued with bad jokes and noisy laughter. They kept up to date on the details that had happened since the last time they had spoken.

When she finished the call, she felt more optimistic. Talking to Diego had made her feel so much better. Although its effect didn’t last too long.

She got up off the floor with her ass stiff, as she headed for the living room, Jake was already there. That nauseating sensation settled in her stomach.

"How's Pop Culture Petey, Princess?" Jake came over to kiss her, just like every time he came home. He couldn’t do it though.

"I'm pregnant!" She blurted out.

In all possible ways she had to say it, all the ways she had thought, and chose the worst. Jake stepped back a couple of steps, as if something had spoiled him. His confusion contrasted with her own when she heard it the first time.

"You, what?" He asked.

"I'm pregnant." she repeated, this time her voice was a barely audible whisper.

Jake looked at her again as if he still couldn’t understand the words that she’d said. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out of it, closed it again, and repeated the same process two more times. When he realized that his voice wouldn’t come, he sat down at a low table. He ran his hands through his hair. He had gone very pale.

"Jake?" She whispered. He showed no sign of hearing her. With trembling arms and legs, she approached him. Her knees thanked her as she sat on the floor next to him. "Say something, please." she begged.

Jake held his head in his hands for a couple of seconds more, not being able to say anything. His head was a flood of thoughts that he couldn’t bring himself to voice. Slowly, he raised his head and looked at Sophie.

"Are we going to be parents?" She nodded. "I'll be dad?" Unable to speak, Sophie shook her head again.

His eyes filled with tears, his emotion was such that he made no sound as tears streamed down his face. He buried his face in his hands again. Sophie was already on the verge of tears, to see Jake in that state was only an excuse for her to pour her owns.

They held each other as they wept, they also laughed, and they cried and laughed at the same time unable to utter any word. Always together, always united.

Jake spun her around in the air, but since he didn’t know if that could hurt the baby, he let her back down. Then he knelt before her and kissed her belly so many times that it was impossible to count them. He also spoke tothe baby, he told that it was the most wonderful news he had ever received,  that they were immensely happy only with its existence and a number of other things, which caused even more tears in his Princess’s eyes.

It had been two months since then. Against all odds, the pregnancy had developed quite normally. There he was, feeling his little baby move under his hand. And soon, in a couple more months he could have her in his arms.

 The end