#god ​a sudden wave of nostalgia just hit me

[kieumy]

You saying you joined your first fandom via YouTube comment section, for some reason, is giving "when tumblr goes down, let's all hang out in a Google docs"

i feel like because of my fandom origins i’d be able to adapt to the google docs alternative pretty easily

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Would You Fall in Love with Me Again?

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley X Female!Reader

Warnings: fluff, tears will be shed

Authors Note: I hope you enjoy, this is based off of “Would you fall in love with me again” from Epic the Musical. 10/10 would recommend

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The house stood still in the quiet of the night, its porch light casting faint halos on the frost-dusted steps. Simon Riley hesitated at the door, his gloved hand hovering over the knob. The key in his pocket felt heavier than his entire pack. This house wasn’t just walls and a roof—it was everything he’d left behind, everything he feared he’d never see again.

With a deep, unsteady breath, he pushed the door open. The familiar creak echoed in his ears, a sound he hadn’t realized he missed. The hallway smelled faintly of lavender, the same scent you always favored. It hit him with a wave of nostalgia so strong his knees nearly buckled.

The soft glow of a lamp in the living room cast warm shadows over the space. Simon’s eyes swept over every detail, drinking it in as though the house itself might vanish. The beige couch, the neatly folded blanket, the wedding photo on the mantle—it was all there, unchanged. Yet, it felt distant, like a life that belonged to someone else.

He stepped further inside, the creak of the floorboards beneath his boots startling in the silence. His bag dropped from his shoulder to the floor with a dull thud, his hands curling into fists at his sides. This was home, but he wasn’t sure if he still belonged here.

“Simon?”

Your voice broke the silence like a sudden, bright light in a dark room. Simon’s entire body froze, his breath catching in his throat. Slowly, he turned toward the sound, his heart pounding in his ears.

You stood in the doorway to the kitchen, wrapped in an oversized cardigan that swallowed your frame. Your eyes were wide, your lips slightly parted as you stared at him. The light from the kitchen framed you like a portrait, and for a moment, Simon thought he might be dreaming.

“Simon,” you said again, this time softer, your voice trembling.

He couldn’t speak. His throat felt tight, the words trapped somewhere between his heart and his lips. You didn’t wait for him to answer.

In an instant, you crossed the room, your slippers barely making a sound on the hardwood floor. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him close with a force that took him by surprise. Simon stumbled back a step, but his arms found their place around your waist, holding you tightly.

“I’m here,” he rasped, his voice breaking. “I’m home.”

You clung to him like he might vanish if you let go, your tears soaking into the fabric of his jacket. Simon felt your body trembling against his, and it broke something deep inside him.

Your knees buckled, and he followed you to the floor, his arms never leaving you. He knelt there, cradling you as you both gave in to the emotions that had been held back for far too long.

“I thought—” Your voice cracked as you tried to speak through your sobs. “I thought you were dead, Simon. I thought I’d lost you forever.”

He swallowed hard, his throat burning. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice raw. “I didn’t mean to—God, I didn’t want to leave you like that.”

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look at his face. His mask was pushed up to his forehead, revealing a face that was both familiar and different. There were new scars, lines etched deeper than before, and a haunted look in his eyes that hadn’t been there the last time you saw him.

“You came back,” you said, your hands cupping his face. “That’s all that matters.”

Simon’s gaze dropped, his shoulders sagging as though the weight of your words was too much to bear. “I don’t know if I deserve this,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “I don’t know if I deserve you.”

Your brow furrowed, and you tightened your hold on him. “Don’t say that,” you said softly but firmly. “You’re my husband, Simon. You don’t have to ‘deserve’ anything. You’re here, and that’s enough.”

He shook his head, his jaw clenching. “Two years, love. I’ve been gone for two bloody years. You’ve waited for me while I—” He broke off, his voice faltering. “I’m not the man I was. I don’t even know if I can be him again.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice, at the way he seemed so much smaller despite his imposing frame. You leaned closer, your forehead pressing against his. “You don’t have to be,” you murmured.

Simon’s eyes lifted to meet yours, a flicker of hope mingling with his uncertainty. “Do you mean that?”

“I mean it,” you whispered. “Simon Riley, I would fall in love with you a thousand times over. Every version of you. Every scar, every flaw.”

His breath hitched, and for the first time in years, his tears spilled over.

Simon pulled you against him again, his hands gripping you like a lifeline. His lips found your temple, pressing a soft, lingering kiss there as his tears mingled with yours. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I never stopped.”

You nodded against him, your fingers threading through his hair. “I know,” you said. “I love you too.”

The two of you stayed like that on the floor, wrapped in each other’s arms, the weight of the past two years finally beginning to lift. The world outside didn’t matter anymore. In this moment, in this house, you were home.

Simon shifted slightly, leaning back just enough to look at you. “I’m going to make this right,” he promised, his voice steady now. “For you. For us.”

You smiled through your tears, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “You already have, Simon.”

And for the first time in years, Simon Riley felt whole.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[soulwrencher]

hate my guts, of course you do

pairing: ex!ellie x fem!reader

warnings: alcohol, drugs, toxic relationship kinda, mentions of nsfw but nothing happens v sorry guys, also forgot to mention curse words idk how warnings work, sorta proof read? :)

word count: 1,4k

summary: it's been months since you broke up, but today out of all days, your ex ellie calls you and leaves a message, asking you to come and you do come over for... closure of course.

"Shit..." Ellie groans low, her body leaned against the door frame. You can't help but notice her well defined arm and shoulder muscles, but you need to focus, this is not what you're here for.

"You called me?" You try to sound calm, collected even, but your eyes won't stop wandering. Just once you tell yourself, the other is too drunk to notice anyway.

Her green eyes and her cold gaze, you miss how her eyes softened when she laid them upon you. You miss the way it felt when she kissed you ever so slowly, knowing that it made you crazy and leaving you ache for more. For god's sake, how were you going to focus on talking to her when she has a black tank top on? You're head is starting to spin, you're still standing in front of Ellie's open door.

"Let's sit down..." You suggest, while Ellie hasn't said a single word this entire time since you arrived. The light is dimmed, liquor standing on her low table, her bed unmade.

Still, you missed Ellie's scent. She still uses that body lotion you bought her because you convinced her it would do her tattoos good.

Sweet orange and cedar wood.

After nostalgia, realisation always hits the hardest. You sit down on her bed, Ellie sits down beside you, her body sinking heavy.

Legs spread far apart, her forearms rest on top of her lap. Ellie hasn't dared to glance at you once this whole time, and 15 minutes have passed already in complete silence. She then sighs and throws her head back with her eyes, barely open, glued to the ceiling.

"Fuck this, I thought maybe callin' you up would fix things right now," she says, words slurred, but the way she expresses herself is long engraved within yourself. You look to the left, there where she sits. Inhaling sharply, you observe Ellie fiddling with her hands. This is bad.

"Ellie, I had things to take care of," the words leave your lips with a bitter taste. You just couldn't tell Ellie that she was not capable of dealing, no, not even listening to your problems and you tried so often.

"What things?" she asks, still not looking at you.

"I have a lot on my mind, I don't think..." You stop yourself. Ellie is long gone, she won't be able to comprehend this, you will just waste your energy.

It took Ellie a few seconds, but suddenly her body shifts towards you. Her eyes look for yours as they fill with something you can't recognise yet.

"No, not this again," she says under her breath. You're confused and Ellie picks it up, you didn't expect her to be this attentive.

"Things are so different now, you should see me now, you just stopped talking to me," she says, her voice full of fury and hurt.

"Fuck, you didn't even give me a chance," she mutters. A sudden wave of guilt overcame you and your narrative of what happened between the two of you starts to waver. But before you could even start questioning what you believed this whole time, you feel Ellie's presence distancing. In surprise, you look up, your eyes following her closely. You watch her approach the kitchen counter, her back facing you. She towers over the kitchen sink, her arms slightly angled. You can hear her take deep breaths as she turns around, you're no longer facing her back.

Now it's you and her, a few meters apart, face to face. Ellie is leaned back against the sink while her arms are crossed.

You've never seen her eyes this cold, this hurt before. She tilts her head slightly, observing you, her eyes scanning you up and down.

"Listen," Ellie says.

You look up, obviously shaken and when did Ellie sober up? Too many questions, too many thoughts, you're overwhelmed by this whole situation.

"Only once in this whole fucking relationship you decided to open up, okay?" Her eyes are shut closely, she seems to be in pain. And yes, she is in fact, in a lot of pain. Ellie's head started to ache a few hours ago, she didn't have any medicine left so she decided to go to sleep but couldn't after all. And to top it off, Ellie started thinking of you, what else was she supposed to do? Not drunk call her ex?

"And when you did, we both were fucking high," she continues, her voice still dangerously low. You can't move, you feel like you've been chained to the bed you are sitting on. That's when you realise, maybe, but just maybe she is right. But you don't want to believe that you're in the wrong, you hate admitting that you're wrong and unreasonable.

"Shit, and I even asked you if you left because of that night..." her words start to waver. This is when you decide that you're no longer an inanimate object, but in fact a living person. You stand up and walk up towards Ellie. Not close, but probably too close for exes. You've been silent this whole time because, and god you hate to admit this, Ellie was right. The only time you did open up was when the two of you were high and she said things you totally did not want to hear. And so you decided to tell your friends, never the whole story though and they all told you that you deserve better, you should leave.

"Don't look at me like this," Ellie says while looking down at you. You're so close to her, you can smell the alcohol mixed with her scent. The way she talks makes you weak but again, this is not the time to feel this way.

"I don't even know why I came," You finally say, barely audible.

"Because you missed me," Ellie responds, her eyes finally softening, in a way they would only for you.

"I hate you, don't do this to me, please," You say as tears fill your eyes. Why were you so impressionable? But you were so sure you're friends were right, Ellie can't handle you. Your thoughts halt for a moment as you feel Ellie's hand palms cup your face, her thumbs resting on your cheeks. You make eye contact, her eyes carefully watching you.

"How often do I need to tell you that I am there for you, I am here, never going anywhere," she whispers. When did the distance close between the two of you? You can feel her chest against yours, while the dimmed light barely illuminates Ellie's face or yours.

"You have to stop looking at me with those eyes," You say, desperately trying to stand your ground. Ellie tilts her head, you can feel her breath on your neck.

"What eyes, love?" Ellie responds, her hands gliding over the sides of your body all the way down to your waist, keeping her hands there. Her hands hold you firmly, pulling you closer by your waist.

You know you should leave now, but your body just won't move, and your heart yearns to stay.

"Don't call me love," Is all you can think of, your hands on top of hers, trying to get her away from your body.

"Give me one more chance, let me prove myself, please." Ellie says, her hands tight on your waist and her voice in a low whisper. If the sexual tension wasn't so high you'd probably say no you tell yourself, your relationship won't be much more than mindless sex so it's okay, you won't get too attached.

"Sure, prove yourself then," You say half heartedly. Ellie places her hand on your lower back, the other makes its way back up to your face, cupping it again.

"I'm serious about you, just so you know," She whispers, not knowing that she just crashed your plans of never getting attached again. You look up to her, completely helpless, you will fall, and that very hard.

But the way you look at Ellie makes her melt, makes her want to protect you from this cruel world, she still couldn't understand how she let you go.

"Come here," Ellie says, you just nod in response while blinking back your tears. God, this will be hard. She puts her hand on the back of your head and lays you gently on her chest. You look to the side, out of the window, hoping that Ellie won't notice you crying. Ellie plants a kiss on your head while mumbling something along the lines 'we will be fine' into your hair.

a/n: this was inspired by 'things change' bryson tiller, took like three lines out of the song hahaha. stay tuned or smth edit: i did some proof reading also does anyone know that tiktok where ellie says 'what eyes dina?' damn i folded

[lotusconstellation]

Well, I had an idea for you to do...

The reader is a streamer who enters the Welcome website and, together with the live people, gets to know this Welcome and Yandere! Wally.

Well, how would Wally react to that? And as time goes by wally falls in love with the reader, how would he see the reader's fans and his job of doing live, playing games, watching videos?

-🐰

{Sorry this took so long! But I ended up getting to caught up in the request and ended up having to make a pt. 2, I do apologize though, I hope you don’t mind. As always, I hope you enjoy! And thank you for the request!}

(Art, Wally and Welcome Home all rightfully belongs to @partycoffin)

“Nostalgia” Pt. 1

Pairing: Yandere Wally Darling x Streamer! GN!Reader

Tw: Yandere behavior, cussing

Summary: You decide to take a trip down memory lane with your Viewers. Unaware of the consequences.

Y/N was a daily streamer under the name of {Streamer name}.

Y/N wasn't very big or popular, maybe with a few frequent watchers here and there that would greet them in real life and ask for a quick picture, but that’s all Y/N could ask for really.

They didn’t need to have a big platform or have a lot of money. They just wanted to stream for fun, just something they could do in their free time when they had nothing else to do.

Y/N didn’t really have a main style of content to put out. Sometimes it’ll be them reacting/watching something a viewer recommends, playing a video game, or even just making a relaxing space for anyone who needs it— playing soft music in the background while answering to any comments.

One day, Y/N was hit with an unexpected wave of nostalgia. They had started remembering fond memories from childhood. From the happy ones to the embarrassing ones— down to the old shows they used to watch as a kid. The sudden wave gave them an idea. Once they would get home from work, Y/N would take their viewers down memory lane and react to old shows and/or movies from the early 2000’s.

“That theme song had no reason being that good, I’m telling you,” Y/N said, taking a sip of their drink while reading the chat.

=======

NeonLeon: No fr

Anxpsyche: The Little Einsteins theme song from season 2 is the best, I know they just added clapping but it made it sm better

WhimsicalWanderbitch: I remember I used to watch Little Einsteins and The Backyardigans all the time when I was kid with my brother

Passionfruit69: Pls play the wonder pets theme song

WhimsicalWanderbitch: me and him always sang along to the songs

Theanklebreaker: I loved wonder pets, omg

JumpInTheMacaque: Does anyone remember Sharkboy and Lavagirl?!

Kirbolissous: OH MY GOD I REMEMBER I USED TO LOVE THE SHIT OUT OF YO GABA GABA THAT SHOW WAS MY SHIT

Escapeben: Do you remember Oswald?

Scouts_Kubs: all I remember watching is little bill and how the teletubbies scared tf out of me

Springday23:SAME!

lychee_jelly_tea:I REMEMBER SHARKBOY AND LAVAGIRL

=======

As Y/N was talking with the chat, they had let out a gasp. “Aweee, oh my god, I just remembered this really old show I used to watch,” The Streamer cooed, flashbacks flooding their mind of them watching said show for hours on end. Recalling all the soft yet bright and vibrant colors of the show, and all the lovable characters.

Y/N waited a moment for the chat to respond. Seeing most of them asking for the name of the show, while a few others carried on with their own conversations. “It wasn’t an early 2000’s show, it was like…” The streamer’s words trailed off, trying to remember when the show was made. “Ah fuck, when was the show made? It was made in the…70’s..? I wanna say, oh my god, Wait, what was it called? God damn it,” Y/N leaned back on their chair, with their hands over their face, as they tried to remember the name of the show. Meanwhile the chat was listing off shows from the 70’s to try and jog their memory.

========

lychee_jelly_tea: Lupin the third pt. 2?

JumpInTheMacaque: The Addams Family?

Theanklebreaker: Uh…New Fantastic four?

Kirbolissous: Was it The New Adventures of Batman?

NeonLeon: Scooby doo?

======

“Oh my god it was called Welcome Home!,” Y/N shouted, jumping up from their previous position.

“That one show that looks like it was inspired by Sesame Street? Oh my god wait-“ Y/N went to Google and searched up, “Welcome Home Characters” the results popped up right immediately. “These bitches!” The streamer circled their cursor around a big JPG image of all the ‘Welcome Home’ characters.

“I remember that whenever I would have to be babysat by my grandparents, all they had was this old Combo television unit and a bunch of old VHS tapes. So all I had to watch was whatever VHS tapes they had and Welcome Home was one of them,” Y/N explained, unintentionally looking further down the rabbit hole of the show, reminiscing in all its glory. By now, Y/N was grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh my god, this is gonna be embarrassing but I remember Wally, the main character- er the one with the blue hair, low-key used to creep me out,” Y/N laughed, feeling embarrassed how a puppet with a blue pompadour used to creep them out.

“Like, I wasn’t scared of him but the way he laughed and the way he would just stare at people for an uncomfortable amount of time in the show is what creeped me out,” Y/N had elaborated after noticing the chat was clowning them for being scared of a puppet.

====

Anxpsyche: Bro, you were scared of him? He looks gay as shit

lychee_jelly_tea: I ACTUALLY REMEMBER WATCHING THAT SHOW AND HAVING A HUGE CRUSH ON WALLY!

JumpInTheMacaque: @Lychee_jelly_tea had me watch that show when we were younger and I low-key loved it

NeonLeon: You were really scared of a puppet? This puppet out of all of them?

JumpInTheMacaque: They actually have a website for that show now

Theanklebreaker: I would be scared of the chicken that looks like Big bird

Passionfruit69: I’d be scared of the gray one that’s looking at the butterfly

=========

“Okay- Later on I wasn’t scared of him. He grew on me, I’m just saying when I first watched him I thought he was a little off!” Y/N defended, it took awhile for them to notice a specific comment. “Wait, JumpInTheMacaque, you said they have a website?” Y/N leaned forward, scrolling back up to where JumpInTheMacaque made that comment before scrolling back down.

======

JumpInTheMacaque: Yea, but you can’t really do much with it rn, you can only see the neighborhood from a Birds Eye view and see the Info about the characters

====

“I still wanna see it, give me a sec,” The streamer went to The search bar before pausing. “Is it just called ‘Welcome Home website’ Or…”

“Oh! I found it!” Y/N exclaimed, clicking on the website without hesitating The website opened up and a picture faded in with the title in big pastel letters on the left center of the picture and Wally sitting on a painted rock with colorful flowers, trees, and home all right behind him. Wally stared at you with his round eyes and had an opened mouth smile. Y/N oooh’ed in awe, fascinated by the way the site opened up. “Oh my gosh, this is so cool,” Y/N tried to contain their excitement, but the shake in their voice and the huge smile on their face was a dead give away. They apologized when they realized their failed attempt. “Sorry guys, I’m just so excited right now.”

"With a hop, skip, and a jump, you are ushered into the colorful, serendipitous world of Welcome Home! It only takes one stroll down the neighborhood to know this is just the nicest little place you’ve ever seen! Watch Wally and his colorful array of friendly neighbors learn about the vibrant world around them and take part in nonsensical fun!"

“Oh Jesus Christ, alright, let’s get started- There’s a guestbook?!…YOU CAN WRITE IN IT?! Wait- I wanna look at everything else first before I do the guestbook.“

The rest of the stream was filled with Y/N clicking around in the neighborhood and reading the info about the characters, expressing memories and giving info about some moments they remember from certain episodes. Y/N was about to click out of the neighborhood and take a look at the guest book. However, they caught a glimpse of something that seemed…out of place. “What the hell is that?” Y/N questioned, pointing to the small black spot under Home with their cursor. “What the hell is that?” The streamer leaned closer to their screen, squinting their eyes to try to get a better look. Right away, they tried to see if they could move Home out of the way, but it didn’t work. Whenever they clicked on Home it either opened up to Wally’s info or it didn’t move. “What…what do I do? That’s not just me right, you guys can see that?” Y/N was at a loss, what do they do?

====

Kirbolissous: What the hell?

lychee_jelly_tea: I’ve never noticed that before! What is that?!

Anxpsyche: what in the actual hell is that?

NeonLeon: Why is there just a black hole under Wally’s house?

JumpInTheMacaque: Try inspecting it, find Home’s code, delete it, then get out of inspect

=====

“Okay, hold on,” Y/N followed the instructions the best they could, they wouldn’t really skilled in this type of stuff, so they struggled a bit, though they figured it out pretty quickly. “Okay…” They mumbled, now seeing a huge black hole in the place Home was. Y/N was confused and clicked on the hole. The computer suddenly opened up a new browser and it seemed to be taking awhile to load. However, Y/N said nothing, sitting in silence as the air slowly started to grow thick, and their palms started to sweat.

Y/N’s eyes grew wide once the image finally loaded. The whole screen was black other than a red outline of Wally on his knees, reaching up to a window and Home’s eyes staring back at him. Y/N stared at the image for what seemed like hours. They just sat there, inspecting the image in horror, but mainly in bewilderment.

What was this?

Why was Wally on the ground?

What was going on?

Why was this on the website? Was it supposed to be?

Slowly, Y/N clicked off the browser. The computer immediately took them back to the Welcome Home website. Y/N scratched their nose and clicked out of the neighborhood, going to the guestbook. “Okay, I don’t know what that was but let’s-…” The Streamer put in the name they go by online. “Let’s just do the Guestbook then I’m calling it a day,” Y/N tried not to let people see how spooked they were, but again, their now quiet and soft tone, gave it all away.

Y/N wrote in the guestbook.

“Looked around the neighborhood with all my viewers, everything was so bright and colorful! Really loved it!”

With that, Y/N bid their signature goodbye to everyone before stopping the stream and turning everything off, but Y/N didn’t move just yet. Their mind was still stuck on the image of Wally.

Was that supposed to be on the website? Why would it be? Are they just trying to add a twist to the franchise now? But why would they, it was fine the way it was. Yes, it got canceled, but that’s only because it became outdated. Was this a sign for something big?

Gah, Y/N shouldn’t be worrying about this. People are allowed to add things to a franchise as long as it stays true to the characters (to a certain extent) and stays respectful to the creators boundaries, and Wally was a bit of an odd one. Maybe they’re just now going more in depth with his character since now it’s a new time with new interest, and they have to get people’s attention somehow, right?

Whatever the reason, it was getting late, and Y/N had to get up for work tomorrow. With that, they finally got up from their uncomfortable chair they use for every stream and stretched. Satisfied when they heard some joints pop and crack. Y/N let out a yawn, realizing how tired they were before walking off to their bathroom to brush their teeth..

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

…Through the static of the TV, you can hear Wally’s muffled voice boom through the tiny speakers.

"That concludes our time together for today, my dear neighbors. But rest assured, tomorrow is another day, and I'll be watching over you just as diligently. Goodbye, neighbor. Ha ha ha.”

*Click*

The End! I hope you enjoyed and keep on the lookout for pt.2!

That is all for today, I hope you are having a good Day/Night/Afternoon and I will see you all in my next writing, au revoir!! 💜💜💛💛

[iamthecomet]

Listen I'm a whore for short hair Dew.

I can just imagine the pack still petting his hair.

But also... a bit of angst...

Water!Dew used to have short hair and Mountain loved the soft curls at the end of it.

Mountain and Aether almost cry at the sight of short haired Dew again. And although Dew's hair is more of a silver ash vs a silver blue, they're like woah... *tears*

Horny thought:

Swiss and Rain still pull at Dew's hair. Scratch his horns right and man is popping an instant boner

God. They see him and get hit with this wave of nostalgia. This fond sense memory and suddenly their droplet is back. Just for a second. The one they lost. And of course they love Dew as he is now. He's happier. He's still the same Dew, a little more comfortable in his own skin. But it still doesn't stop the sudden ache. The memory of Dew before. Of their lives before. Of Terzo and the ghouls that came before these ones, and it hurts in such a specific undefinable way. Mountain reaches out and pets Dew, softly. Curling his fingers in the ends just a little. And he has to swallow back a sob. Dew, for his part, just rolls his eyes. Scoffs. Nudges Mountain playfully, tries to draw him back to the present. Stop looking at me like that or I'm never cutting it again. and yes, you're so right about Dew's instant hair pulling boner. Get a good grip and give him a good yank and he is ready to go--kind of like a pull start lawnmower.

[bluestsdays]

this was once commonplace, sitting together on a night out with friends or at a party, completely oblivious to anyone else around, occupying their own little bubble. she’s missed it so desperately over the past couple years with him miles away, always subconsciously watching the door as if waiting for him to walk through it at any moment, to save her from that loneliness that followed them both around before they found one another. wishes this still was her normal, that she could take his hand and lead him to some dimly lit corner where they could let their hands and lips and teeth explore one another in the semblance of privacy. but, no— instead she had to ignore how her heart stutters in her chest as he inches his chair closer, trying to pretend it didn’t make her dizzy with want. want for him, for how it used to be, for everything they once had. disguises it all with a soft smile, attempting to allow his words to permeate her brain. finds it hard to believe, though, as it was always easier to blame herself, before anyone else. “ i don’t know, maybe it’s actually your fault— it was so good with you, that you ruined me for everybody else, ” it’s spoken with a hint of a smirk, although she doesn’t actually blame him at all, signaled by the laugh that emanates from her throat. and it wasn’t his fault, at all, but there was truth to those words— how could anyone else compare when she’s already experienced the best ? they possessed an intimacy that was driven by love and understanding and passion, which was obviously missing from whatever it was she had with fletcher. it didn’t feel right, anyway, not like how it was with miller, but what did it matter, now ? he was with someone else, and lived miles and miles away, regardless. didn’t like thinking about that, though, especially not when he was here with her now, in the flesh, fingertips tracing along her hand, electricity pooling in every nerve ending he skates across. she watches intently, free hand twitching with the desire to reach out, to skate across everywhere she could see, just to be reminded what he feels like, beneath the pads of her fingers. gaze only lifts at his words, nodding at his question, because yes, it always was easier with him. easier than anyone she’s ever been with before. there’s a soft, sad smile written across her features, then, hit with a sudden wave of nostalgia. “ yeah, it was, wasn’t it ? probably because i never felt the need to hide any part of me from you. even if i wanted to, you would have seen it. you’ve always been good at that, ” and god, did she love him all the more for it. it’s the kind of love that doesn’t ever dissipate, the kind of love reserved for the one person who has seen the inside of her soul and loved her anyway, despite all the cracks and bruises. him— it would always be him. and maybe that’s why she suddenly feels sick after posing her question about his girlfriend, unsure if she could stand to hear more about the one who took her place next to him. brows furrow at what he reveals, trying to conceal the concern on her features, the desire to tell him she obviously wasn’t good for him, but what right did she have to say that, now ? finds herself shaking her head, instead, at the mention of therapy, hand now brutally cold without the warmth of his own. “ wait, this isn’t a therapy session ? i’ve been charging you by the minute this whole time, ” it’s spoken teasingly, followed with a soft chuckle. “ it’s never been hard for me to like you, to see who you are, miller. ” a pause, to think. “ i always believed in you, but i was just happy to be with you, regardless of your potential. ” in the end, she decided she had to let him go, so he could follow his dreams. “ honestly, i regret not going with you, when you left. ” inhales sharply, then, as her next question falls from her lips without much thought, the alcohol loosening her lips. " do you ever think about what our kid would've been like ? because i do, sometimes. "

if the past few weeks have taught him anything, it's that they could've made this work. he's become so accustomed to their talks— whether it's with a bleary image of her flushed across his screen, or the crepitate of her voice, while they've been on the phone. but nothing beats this, he doesn't think; being this close to see her smile lines, or the cracks in her hands, the lingering traces of paint against her skin, her clothing, telling him all it needs to, all he's hoped for, in their time apart. there's a certain warmth to him, now, after what feels like two years of being left out in the cold, bringing him comfort in a life that's felt so uncertain, since they parted. there's always been a place for him here, he thinks— a place that would continue to be open for him, as long as he needs it. and he still struggles with that fact, wishing he had found the fortitude to reach out to her earlier, open that line of communication when he needed it most, and feeling as if that would've never been fair for either of them. it still feels like an uphill battle sometimes, one he can't ever seem to grapple; just how much he shares of this new life, new existence, this path of life that he'd always thought she would be by his side for. supposes the alcohol in both of their systems has blurred that barrier, enough so that they use it to touch on the things that have remained unspoken between them for so long, even now that they've re-established a connection. " there's nothing embarrassing or pathetic about that at all, " he focuses on the way her fingertip traces the rim of her glass, shaking his head as her next words fall, instantly defensive as that ache in his chest returns. " but there's nothing wrong with you, you hear me? nothing at all. " and it wasn't like he was aware of the ins and outs of her new relationship, nor was he sure he wanted to know, afraid of how much it would sting, more than it already does now, if he became apprised of those inner workings. inches closer then, bringing his chair along with him, as if the closer proximity will have her believe him, even as he bites back the rest of what he wants to say— that maybe it was a visceral reaction, informing her that things weren't right. but what place did he have to say that, anymore? and he couldn't speak on it without looking at his own situation, in the feeling simmering in his gut, that told him none of it was right, that it never has been, nor will it ever be, when what they had together, was incomparable, and always will be. there was a reason to the stutter in his chest, the tingling in his fingertips, as they trace along the back of her hand. it was real, true, undiluted happiness that he had with devon, once. the sort of love that only came by once in a lifetime, perhaps one that had followed him from the past, and will continue to follow him into the next lifetime. it's a sad smile, then, that he gives her, nodding briefly to say that he understood, that he couldn't have said it better himself. " no, i don't think anything makes sense like it did with you, either. everything was so easy, hm? like, we didn't even have to try, " like all the pieces fell into place. what was once so easy with her, now feels so hard with someone else. that alone has his stomach dropping, along with the spotlight turning back on him. " i don't know, " he admits, the words falling off his tongue, unravelled from the piece of him that he's only ever kept to himself. " sometimes i think she likes my potential, more than she does me, " who he was now, what he encompassed, or even all the baggage that came in his shadow. " and it was just... never like that with you, you know? i always felt like you liked who i was first, and anything that i could be, or do... well, that never seemed to matter, as much, " chuckles then, removing his hand from her own, using it to rub at jaded features. " fuck, i don't know, maybe i should save this for therapy, or something. "

[hobidreams]

november 1869.

to remember what has been lost; to protect what still remains.

pairing: joseon king!yoongi x reader genre: drama. words: 2.4k contains: descriptions of blood/death, a reckoning.

moonlit throne index. this is drabble 26. start from the beginning?

Before Queen Jeonghui’s tomb, you stand with hands bowed in reverence, mind laden with warm memories as sticks of incense burn above your fingertips.

“We all miss you, daebi-mama. I hope you are resting well,” you murmur, letting the smoke mingle with your breath in the air as you bow, deeply. “Happy birthday.”

A little ways away, the single guard that accompanies you is also offering his thoughts to the raised, grassy mound that the queen lies beneath. You’re glad it’s Myungho to come with you today. He’s a good man, one who allows you as much freedom as possible. He understands your need to escape sometimes. Nearby, the horses you rode here are grazing on the field, quietly snorting as their tails swish from side to side.

As you look upon the tomb, you wonder wistfully if mother has found the queen in the spirit world. If they’re playing the game of janggi they so loved in life, when both could find the rare time to continue their decade-long (friendly) rivalry while indulging in cups of strong, dark tea. The thought brings a smile to your face even as fresh tears fall at the remembrance.

In your peripheral vision, you see a swish of fabric, the sign of someone approaching. You give one last bow and slot your incense in the traditional tray, realizing it must be time to leave before it gets too cold and your limbs begin to freeze even under the layers of clothes. You must go back eventually, you know it, but that doesn’t make it easier.

But when you turn, the man that stands beside you wears royal robes — the scarlet fabric and golden dragons unmistakable.

“Jeonha?”

The king’s face holds only sorrow as he holds matching incense in his hands. Staring straight ahead, he bends into a bow, dipping his head repeatedly low, low, lower until he’s almost on the dying, waterlogged grass with it, the lit grey tips flickering in the wind as they are nearly doused from the force of his movements. He bites his lip hard, so hard he draws blood as he punishes his own legs with the bows but he doesn’t stop.

You watch him with emotion clinging to your throat, but you swallow the questions you want to ask as you swipe at your wet cheeks. Why are you here? Why did you change your mind? How are you? Are you okay? All these impertinent questions are for you, to satisfy your own curiosity, and that’s not what he needs right now.

Quietly, steadily, you wait until he has finally stuck in the incense in the memorial ash. You wait until he opens his eyes, red-rimmed as they are, and finds your gaze.

“I… decided at the last moment,” he murmurs. “You… were right. I had to see her.”

You nod. Think you understand everything else he means as well, even if he’s left it unspoken. “Me too.”

“She would have liked that you’re here.”

That simple sentence threatens another wave of nostalgia and longing. You let it pull you under. Sink yourself into it. The mourning, the grief. And the love. The love that was there. The love that still remains, the traces of it held in you both. Your fingers twitch with a sudden, daring want to take his hand. To meet your palms and find the warmth and the life pulse that beats so closely, so resolutely just beneath the surface despite all this pain and all this loss. If you could just reach out. If you could just take another risk…

“Jeonha, run!”

The scream comes from the hill behind you. You both whirl.

The head of the royal guard comes running over with his sword drawn. His teeth are grit, hair blown from the wind that sweeps through the grass, rippling. His blade is already stained with a color that makes your stomach lurch at the implication.

“Hoseok— What’s going on?” The king yells back.

“Rebels! An ambush. We don’t have enough men!”

These few seconds are all the warning you get.

An incredible roar of voices comes exploding up and then you see them. The thick crowd of men that come surging over the hill, fighting their way towards you. The unforgettable clatter of metal on metal desecrates this once-sacred ground. Your legs go soft as you panic, scrambling. You’re trying not to watch as guards and rebels alike are cut down, but the enemies are steadily advancing still. What should you do? Where should you go?

“Myungho, get the horses!” The king barks out. But one look at the steeds tells you that they’re frightened, rearing back as men descend upon them. They’re off, running away on instinct to preserve their own lives while damning yours.

“Jeonha, what are your orders?” Myungho’s grip on his weapon is tight.

“Go. Help Hoseok.”

“Yes, jeonha!”

But as the battle wears on, the dread in you only grows. The king’s men are skilled, but it seems there were only a few to begin with. They are overwhelmed by sheer numbers, yelling for jeonha to escape but he doesn’t move. You don’t know what to do. You are at a complete loss, standing beside him with fingers growing steadily numb. You have to do something. You— You can’t just let it end here, at the hands of these men bellowing with violence and anger and pain.

“Jeonha, w-we have to run,” you stutter, forcing yourself to move, tugging at the fabric of his robes. But when you look back at the opposite side, your only escape route, a throng of rebels come scattering across the grass. Cutting you off; rendering you helpless.

“Myungho, cover the rear!” Hoseok spits out as he takes down another three by himself, the quick whip of his blade reflecting a beam of sun. But even he, with two other guards in front, cannot hold all of them off, though there are less of the rebels now that remain standing.

Caught in the middle, you can only watch your allies strain and sweat. In your heart, you promise desperately that you heal them in the end, if only they will hold on now.

With an awful cry, one of the guards hits the ground and a rebel uses that chance. Breaks through the line of defense and charges right towards you both.

“Fuck the king!” He yells, his face smeared with dirt, his sword raised as his bare feet trip upon the grass but he just keeps coming somehow and you have no weapons and you have no shields but the very first instinct, the most primal one you have is to throw yourself in front of the king and take his pain for him and—

Hoseok dispatches the rebel from behind just as you move a single step forward.

“You…” The king’s voice is hoarse. His eyes are wide with shock as he stares at you, at what you just did. Then he’s shoving you aside and stooping to pick up the abandoned sword from the ground.

You realize what he means when he sweeps up his sleeves, adjusts his grip on the worn handle. “Wait, no, jeonha, you cannot—”

“Stay behind me.”

“I cannot allow you to—”

“Do not argue with me.”

Again, he leaves you with no choice but to watch his back.

Fear pounds away in your body like a thousand drums, thunder booming through the pulse of your clenched heart in your ears as the king takes a first brutal swing at an enemy. Somewhat out of practice against the towering man, he’s shoved back by the sheer force of the clash, feet skidding across the wet grass but he refuses to yield. Stubborn as he always is, he rushes in again only to be pushed back. Again.

The king tilts his blade, slices it quick only to have one sent right back at him, barely missing his shoulder by an inch. He doesn’t even flinch as he stands firm. Adapts in the moment and tries a new strategy, a new tactic that has him spinning, robes fluttering in the winter air as his shuddering breath comes out in a puff of white and ends in a fury of red. And again. And again until finally, finally, only the strongest of the rebels remain standing with the few allies you left, along with your brutal, bloodied king.

Before you, all the men are panting, open mouthed, every last one of them desperate for a victory that spells the doom of the other.

“Come on then,” the king goads, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand in a show of nonchalance even though he’s obviously fatigued. “Attack.”

“You little shit!”

This man is enormous, easily a head above the king and he’s strong, muscles bulging from his torn tunic as he thrusts the sword ahead with surprising speed. The quick rush of air slices through two layers of robes, splitting the dirtied fabric open as the king narrowly escapes without a new scar. But his return stab doesn’t meet a mark and he’s slow on the rebound, steps lost some of the agility he had at the start.

Please. Please, you beg to whatever god may be listening, don’t let him die. But that rebel seems to have an endless strength as he forces the king back, meets him blow for blow for blow and you are so worried, terrified you’re going to see his last moments like this. Like this you will have been with him until the end just like you once stupidly wished. You’re so caught up you don’t realize what’s going on behind you.

“Su-uinyeo-nim! Watch out!” Myungho’s voice cracks as he cries your name, but you turn too slow. Myungho’s on the ground and the rebel that beat him is sprinting towards you, savagery in his scowl, his crude axe already suspended in mid-swing, just a few more steps, just one more shove to land right across your heart and you, you who has never held a weapon before in her life, you who has lived to heal and mend instead of hurt, what can you do right now but die?

“No!”

The scream is hoarse, a furious sound matched with a rush of robes that whip past your own.

You peel open your eyes in time to watch the king take the axe blow meant for you with his left arm. Despite his bark of pain, he swings with his right in exchange and it’s enough. The rebel falls, his axe plummeting uselessly beside him. Then the king falters too, sword clattering down as he finally drops to his knees.

“Jeonha!” You scramble to him. “Oh god, oh god, jeonha, why did you do that— Jeonha, how could you do such a thing? Jeonha!” You part the stained robes, stomach churning at the raw sight of his sacrifice. “We need to fetch you help. You need medicine, oh god, oh god.” This is panic like you’ve never felt it before as you look around, as if some miracle could occur, as if it hasn’t already occurred by the fact that you’re both still alive.

To one side, Hoseok is alone, gasping hard with the enormous rebel lying prone beside him, evidently having finished him off. Myungho has a gash running down his side, but he’s crawling towards you both still with a hand pressed to his wound for pressure. There is no one else. You have to do this on your own. You have to calm the hell down.

Using the nearby sword, you force yourself to focus and stop shaking as you cut strips of the inner layer of your skirt. You have to save his arm even as nausea swims in your mind, nerves making you want to empty your stomach.

“Hah...” The king’s chest lurches as he struggles for air. His eyes are hazy but he manages to fix them on you, as if to ground himself. “You’re… safe?”

Nodding frantically, you start to wrap the cloth around him, willing your fingers not to slip. “I-It’s deep, jeonha. Your wound is so deep.” You’re quietly sobbing as you tie the makeshift bandage to stop the worst of the bleeding. How could he be thinking of you at a time like this? It must hurt excruciatingly so, yet he is still trying to be strong.

Beside you, Hoseok is carrying Myungho’s weight, using the extra cloth to help his ally with his limited medical training.

“…Hoseok.” The king sucks in another long breath. “They… Those rebels were peasants, weren’t they?”

“Yes, jeonha… I think they were.”

He accepts this knowledge silently as you finish your preliminary treatment, but lack the resources to do anything else. You stare at the fresh red seeping through the flimsy cloth and hope desperately that it will be enough for now, until one of you can return to the palace and gather reinforcements to take you home. Feeling your fingers stop, he immediately tries to move his arm but winces, bites his lip at the sudden jolt.

“Don’t move, please,” you instantly say.

The king huffs a long, exhausted sigh as he sinks into the ground. Lets the tension seep out of him, though likely not by choice. His dark eyes flicker to the tomb briefly before they slide closed, the scar ever slashed startlingly crimson across the right side. Despite his best attempts, he is still winded, depleted. Human, after all. After all of this.

You brush matted strands of light hair away from his forehead, and pat at the drops of sweat that linger and prove how hard he pushed himself to fight. He shifts into your touch like a stray animal, allowing you take care of him for once without argument until his breaths even some, settling only in your arms.

“It seems it’s been a long time,” he says softly after a moment, his eyes remaining shut.

“Since?”

“Since I’ve protected someone.”

Your pulse catches. Blood thrums through you as you whisper, “but you did.” Your voice is viscous with relief, and gratitude. “You did.”

Only now do you dare to reach for his hand, to lend him some of your strength, even though you have seen again just how much of it he already holds in himself.

Wrapped in your warmth, he squeezes back just the once. Lets you know he is here, he is here, he is here with you still.

a/n: because i could never forget the way he wielded that sword in the mv. so... how you feel about our king now?

[free-pool-trash]

of pick up lines and garden flowers - peter maximoff

requests: Hello! I'm a big fan of basically all your Peter Maximoff x Reader stories and was wondering if you could write one where both of them got sucked into Westview and reader's "role" is a florist and Peter's in love with her or something? Bonus points if they were already together before getting trapped in the town and every time they meet, reader gets a flashback of when they were together? That would be pretty awesome to read :D

hey bestie ✨ i love this idea it’s super cute <3 thank you for sending it in i hope you enjoy <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated

word count: 1.1K (it’s short but i quite like it)

warnings: peter being dorky, really fluffy

masterlist

The sound of the bell above your door chiming alerted you that you had a customer. You smiled softly, not turning around, continuing to fix the arrangement of flowers in front of you.

“Back again?” You teased, already knowing who the visitor was without having to turn around. He came in at the same time every single day.

Once you finished adjusting the lilies on the shelf, you spun around to face the silver haired man who leaned against your cash counter casually, “Thought you needed your daily dose of vitamin P.”

“Dear god. That’s the worst one yet, truly, you’ve outdone yourself.” You cackled, busying yourself with filling out orders to avoid catching his trademark cheesy grin.

It had become a routine. He’d stroll into your shop and hit you with his best terrible pick up line and you’d send him away with a single flower.

“You smile wider the worse they are.” He informed, his dimples on full display as his grin had turned into a wide, loving smile.

If you hadn’t known better you would’ve sworn that you’ve seen that adoring smile of his before. Yeah, you’d seen it almost everyday this week but even from the very first day he’d stumbled into your shop and accidentally knocked over a vase of freshly organised hydrangeas he was familiar- he felt familiar.

Riding that train of thought you let out a soft “Oh”, as you remembered the flower you’d chosen to send him away with today. It wasn’t anything too special to the naked eye but whenever you looked at it you were hit with a sudden wave of nostalgia, the feeling was similar to the one you got when you’d lock eyes with the man who stood before you now, and so you figured why not put two good things together?

Quickly you pulled the flower out of the vase behind the cash counter where you were keeping it and presented it to Peter with a bright smile, “Tah-dah!”

Peter stared at the flower for a second, before his eyes moved up to your face. Truthfully, Peter didn’t really care about flowers, but he did however care about you and for whatever reason he couldn’t seem to keep himself from coming back to you time and time again.

He took the flower from you gently, making sure his fingers lingered against yours while you passed him the stem, he admired the steady blush that began rising on your cheeks at the contact.

“Why’d you pick a daisy?” He asked, twirling the green stem between his fingers and for a brief second, as you watched him grinning and messing with the taller than average garden flower, it was as if the fog had cleared completely.

The night was hot, you were laying in the garden simply listening to the crickets and allowing the cool breeze to sweep over you as you twirled a small daisy that you’d plucked from the grass between your fingers.

“Psst. Y/n!” Peter’s whisper startled you from your relaxation and you turned your head to look at him.

“Mhm?” Peter plopped himself down beside you, dropping his head onto your lap and letting out a content sigh as he did.

You sat up on the grass, careful not to move his head too much, you began to play with it softly as he began to speak, “Are you a magician?” He asked, looking up at your face seriously as if the question he just posed was the most important question he’d ever ask you.

Before you could even really process his question, a huge grin made its way across his lips, “Because when I’m with you everybody else disappears.”

“We’re the only people here, my love.” You reminded him through a giggle, “But counter question- Are you a parking ticket?” Peter scoffed, raising an eyebrow at you, completely unimpressed by your line’s set up.

“Why? Cuz I’ve got “fine” written all over me? Lame.” He complained rolling his eyes.

Lightly you flicked his nose, “No, I was gonna say it’s because you’re a huge inconvenience.” His gasp caused you to bark out a laugh, pleased with his outraged response.

Within a second Peter tackled you back into the grass, his fingers running up and down your sides, relentlessly. Loving the way your laughter came out in howls, the way they always did when he tickled you. Your eyes watered as he refused to let up until you were begging through squeals of laughter for him to stop. When he finally ceased his attack on your ribs, he let out a chuckle of his own and rolled off of your body, lying on the grass beside you instead.

It took you a second to catch your breath again, eventually when you managed to even out your breathing you turned your head to look at Peter, who was already looking at you. His gaze almost made you lose your breath again. His brown eyes twinkled and his skin was illuminated weakly by the moon that shone full above you, perfectly highlighting the dips in his dimpled cheeks as he smiled softly yet widely. You knew what that look was, he was in love, and conveniently; so were you.

“Truce?” You whispered, holding out the little daisy you had plucked from the grass earlier and offering it to Peter, whose smile never dimmed as he nodded in agreement.

You shimmied closer, pressed a small kiss to his nose before tucking the flower behind his ear. The image of him so in love with a daisy poking out from behind his ear was the purest, sweetest thing you’d ever seen and it caused your smile to nearly split your cheeks.

“You look perfect right now.” You voiced your thoughts quietly as to not disturb the moment.

Wordlessly, he placed his hands on your hips and tugged you into him so that your chest was flush against his. He kissed you softly, his lips moved meaningfully with yours, pouring all of his emotions into the kiss before he pulled away reluctantly.

He rested his forehead on yours and let the words he was thinking slip from his lips, his smile back and wider than it had been before your lips connected, “You’re perfect all the time.”

Peter watched in concern as you seemed to zone out for a second, a thoughtful look on your face. It only lasted a few seconds, though.

As quickly as it had gone, the fog returned and the memory slipped away as if it were never there to begin with, leaving only a feeling of warmth behind. With a gentle shake of your head, you zoned back in on Peter.

His heart skipped a beat at the smile that stretched across your lips. It was dazzling, no that wasn’t it, it was perfect.

He watched mesmerised as you shrugged your shoulders and spoke through a grin, “Not sure. It just reminded me of you… for some reason.”

Maybe, you’d been right to say you’d known him before. There was something so vividly sentimental to you about the boy that had you convinced that; yes, perhaps you had been met with his adoring smile before- in another life.

[yeongwvnhi]

ᴸᵒᵛᵉ ᴬᵍᵃⁱⁿ

Pairing - Baekhyun x fem reader -> exes to lovers | Genre - Angst, fluff | warnings - none | taglist - @twancingyunhoe @trashlord-007 @tiddy-boys | synopsis - when Baekhyun and you broke things off a year ago, it felt alright, but you came to the painful realization that nobody could ever replace him or love you like he did | word count - 2.1k | thanks to @tiddy-boys for beta-reading ♡

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It's days like these, rain hitting the window in harsh taps and angry wind blowing, when the nostalgia hits the hardest. After all, you were always one to dwell on the past. It's just what you do. 

Every day felt the same after the two of you broke things off. You don't even remember why exactly you even ended it in the first place. The pain still sits deep, coming to haunt you when you least expect it. 

Rainy days like those just trigger the nostalgia, the memories and bygone feelings. 

It's 12pm when you check your phone, yet you're still laying in bed. The lack of motivation due to this sudden wave of sadness is something you're not experiencing for the first time. 

And it's killing you slowly. These feelings are eating you up from the inside out. 

Without even realizing, tears are running down your cheeks in even, salty streams. 

"Why am I even crying…" You mumble and lift your arm to cover your face, trying to make it stop. "God, I'm so pathetic" 

You try to manage to stop your tears, wrist harshly rubbing your eyes. After a minute or so, you succeed in stopping them. 

instead pick up your phone, unlocking it and opening Instagram. 

One peek won't hurt, right…? 

His name at the top of your searches seems to be mocking you as you hover your finger above it. Should you really do it? What if he found someone new and his profile is filled with couple pictures? Or what if he feels nothing and is glad to be alone? What if, what if, what if…

"Fuck it" you hiss and tap on his username, his profile popping up after a brief second of loading the page. 

He… hasn't posted anything for a few months, his last post being from October last year. 

Oh for fucks sake… is this a good sign or not? It could mean he's been seeing someone new, but it could also mean he's just been living his life like usual. 

So many possibilities, yet no resolution seems to be in sight. 

"This is so annoying, oh my gooood" You groan and smack your head into your pillow, laying sprawled out like a star with an annoyed pout on your face. 

"It's been a god damn year," You grumble, "why do I still feel like this?" 

The sound of your fist hitting the mattress of your bed is dull, not the way you wanted it to sound. "I hate this, UGHH" The frustration in your voice is for sure loud and clear, accentuated well by the 'ugh'. 

This whole situation is stressing you out. "I need a shower.." You mumble, absent-minded, as you fling the covers back and swing your legs over the edge of your bed. 

—

Despite the gloomy weather, you decided to take a walk outside. The rain still hasn't let up, droplets of it occasionally hitting your face. 

"Why is it so cold today? It's already spring…" You mumble quietly to yourself, eyes strictly trained on the path in front of your feet and head held low. 

You're so lost in your thoughts, you don't see the person headed your way. 

And apparently, the person doesn't seem to notice you as well. So your shoulders collide and you stumble, umbrella falling out of your hand and fast quick steps to regain your balance. 

"I'm so sorry! Are you al-" The man rushes to apologize, but his words get stuck in his throat as he takes in who he just, quite literally, stumbled into. 

Rain has hit you mercilessly, soaking you from head to toe within seconds as you stand there, paralyzed. "Baek…Baekhyun?" 

His eyes are wide and mouth slightly open in shock as he doesn't know what to say or do. 

He hasn't seen or talked to you in at least nine or ten months for sure. What is he even supposed to say? "Yeah… it's- it's surely been a while" he dumbly answers. "Ah! Your umbrella!" Baekhyun rushes to pick it up and hold it over your figure. 

But the damage is already done. 

You're shivering, dripping with water but still you've a tiny smile on your lips at the sight of him. 

You delicately take hold of the handle, fingers gently enclosing around the man's hand. 

He doesn't move to let go, just standing there and staring into your eyes. "I-" 

You cut him off by mistake with a sneeze, the cold creeping in deep. It feels like your bones might freeze, grasp around both Baekhyun's hand and the handle of your umbrella tightening, muscles contracting to desperately stay warm. "S-Sorry for interrupting you" You say, teeth clattering and eyes averting. 

"No no don't worry about it!" He insists, "but we should get you home, your hand is cold as ice, Y/N" 

"Ah… you're right" You nod and he flashes you a warm smile. 

"Do you still live in the same apartment or did you move?" Baekhyun asks, back to being concerned about your wellbeing now. 

"I- I still live in the same place" You reply, your free hand holding onto your jacket for warmth, but in vain. 

"That's too far away, my place is way closer" He objects and gently pulls you along, "come on, let's get you freshened up before you really get sick" 

You only manage an awkward nod and let him lead you along, a surprisingly pleasant silence engulfing you two. 

—

Baekhyun unlocks the door to his apartment and firstly puts both of your umbrellas away, taking off his wet shoes in the process and you follow along. 

"Come on, I'll show you the bathroom" He says and you tag after him. 

He opens the door, turns on the light and quickly pulls out two towels for you. "You can just use my shampoo, I don't have anything suitable here for you, sor-" 

"Thank you" you break his rambling. "You wouldn't need to do this, so thank you" 

Baekhyun smiles softly, although his eyes tell a different story. "I'll bring you some clothes in a bit, okay?" 

"Mhm" you nod and give him a curt bow before he leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. 

You waste no time in stepping out of your soaked clothes and into the shower. 

You set the water to a nice warm temperature and rinse off the cold first, feeling relieved. 

Then there's a knock. "Hey Y/N, I'm putting some clothes on top of the washing machine for you now" he announces before opening the door, doing as he said and then leaving just as quickly as he came. 

"Still the considerate guy he always was…" You mumble with a sad smile, old memories coming back to haunt your mind with sweet images of the two of you. Him always knocking before he'd enter a room you would be in to announce himself. 

You loved that about him, he was always mindful of others and you're happy to see it hasn't changed at all. 

—

You finished quickly and put on the clothes he gave you. Some boxers and a way too big on you, black shirt. You dried your hair as best as you could with the towel he gave you and made sure you don't look like a lion by patting down your hair a bit. 

"Baekhyun?" You timidly call out after opening the door a bit. 

"Yeah?" He replies and you hear his footsteps approach. "What is it?" 

"Uhm- Where to put my wet clothes?" You ask. 

"Oh- Hold on, I'll put them in the washing machine" He says with big eyes and opens the machine for you to put them in. "I'll dry them after they're washed so you can change back, alright?" 

You nod quickly and thank him quietly. He opens the machine and you put your clothes inside, him doing the rest. 

"So, uh-" 

"Do you want some water?" He quickly asks, ears flaring red as he avoids your eyes. 

"Sure" you squeak back and follow him into the kitchen. He gets a glass out of a cupboard and fills it with water before handing it to you. 

You nip at the liquid as Baekhyun leans against the countertop adjacent to you, eyes taking in your figure. 

He missed seeing you in his clothes, you always looked so good in them. He just missed you in general. 

The reason why the two of you broke up a year ago? 

Baekhyun remembers it all too well. 

It was a work related thing actually. The two of you worked in different shifts and barely saw each other, yet alone had time for any couple stuff. 

Free days? Spent alone or arguing about never seeing each other. 

And at one point you had said to just break up. In that moment Baekhyun felt like he was hit by lightning, body stiff and eyes wide. He couldn't believe what he heard. Baekhyun felt anxiety cursing through his veins as his brain processed your words.

You had told him that you wouldn't hate him, but that your situation at that time just didn't allow any dating. The two of you never had hard feelings about the outcome, but it was hard to suddenly go back to being alone. 

And now you're here, in his apartment, wearing his clothes and smelling just like him. He can't believe this is happening. 

"Uhm, so" You speak up after setting the glass down on the other counter behind you. Your hands come up to grab the surface besides your waist and you avoid the man's eyes. 

"Yes?" Baekhyun can't help the hopeful hint in his voice as he urges you to continue your thoughts. 

"How has life been for you?" 

A chuckle escaped his lips at your question, shoulders jumping up and down in the process before he answered. "It's been rather boring but nice, if you get what I mean? I found a different job and work from home now" 

You nod quietly, "I've also found a new job and my shifts are less hectic" 

"Have you… found someone new?" 

You halt at his inquiry, gears in your mind temporarily stopping and he seems to take the lacking answer the wrong way. A frown pulls at his normally friendly and soft expression, making him look grumpy and bothered. "I see" 

"No, no! I- I haven't found anyone!" You quickly say, "I just… I couldn't move on" 

His expression changes to a sad smile, although he's kind of glad you're still somehow his. "Me neither" 

You scoff lightly, a cheeky smirk suddenly on your face. "No wonder, nobody could put up with your annoying ass anyway" 

"Hey!" He exclaims in shock. 

"I'm joking, I'm joking!" You insist, holding your stomach and laughing. "You're bearable most of the time" 

"That doesn't make it any better!" Baekhyun whines and you laugh out loud, hand flying up to cover your mouth. 

"Still the cocky little girl you've always been" He fires back and you snort. 

"Like you're one to talk" You roll your eyes at him and he exhales through his nose. 

His hands grab you by the collar of his shirt you're wearing and unexpectedly pull you into him. You squeal, hands shooting up to brace against his broad chest and you look up to be met by his cocky smile. "You never knew when to stop, no change at all there" he playfully nags. 

"Shut up" You weakly fight back. 

Baekhyun chuckles and you feel the rumble drumming against the palms of your hands. "How come you haven't moved on?" 

You lower your head, hands fumbling with his shirt. "Well… I came to the conclusion that just nobody could replace you. Nobody could love me like you did…" You mumble against his chest and Baekhyun feels a smile creeping up on his face. 

"I felt the same" He whispers back and his arms move to pull you into him more by your waist. 

After hearing that, you look back up at him with big eyes. "Really?" 

He nods and flashes you a bright smile. "Even though we fought a lot and barely had time for each other, I never stopped loving you" 

"Shut up" You almost whimper and move your hands to pull him closer by the back of his neck, lips meeting in the middle. 

Baekhyun's eyes almost fell out of their sockets before he came to his senses. 

One of his hands found its place on the back of your head as he moved his lips against yours with fervor. He greedily breathes you in, not wanting this to end as moves his mouth against yours. 

You shiver when his tongue meets yours and that's when you draw the line… for now. 

He chases after you for a second and you chuckle, dazed eyes meeting yours. "Slow down tiger" you say and peck the corner of his mouth. 

"Okay, okay" He smiles and pulls you in for a hug, "will you let me love you again?" 

"You bet" 

[thebardscipher]

You reblogging that gargoyles post just sent me for a loop. I honest to God forgot that show existed and now I've just been hit by a wave of nostalgia and other emotions by a meme post oh my god lol

asdfghjklkjhgfdsa My dude, I had a sudden urge to watch Gargoyles all the way back in August out of freaking NO WHERE!! (actually maybe not freaking nowhere....there's this fanfic writer who goes by MightyAnt...Mighty-Ant....shoot I can't remember....who wrote a Darkwing Duck/Gargoyles crossover that updated after a little while in August) And it has me in a headlock (which is easing up slightly but only because DreamLight Valley has now got me in a headlock) But I cannot telling how many of these episodes that I watch like a minute of and then go "WAIT! I REMEMBER THIS ONE! Oh no...I remember this one..." Its been fun. Lexington is my favorite....to the surprise of NO ONE

[chrstbll]

miracles and lucky days| ben hargreeves

(gif not mine) 

+tags: @lalisbitch @spaceclone-mom , @meowmeowrex23 @strangeyouthcrusade

plot: after coming back from the 60’s, instead of finding the sparrow academy, the group come face to face with a much more positive outcome of their actions.

                                                           -

The words of Klaus were diluted, inaudible and ringing loudly in your head. Your limbs could barely hold the weight of your body, and the nausea from jumping between timelines hitting your stomach didn’t quite put you at ease. All was blurry at first, not hearing nor seeing properly caused you to feel light-headed as well, but before your legs or your mind gave in, somebody strong arms held you up protectively.

- Are you good? – Diego’s gentle call for you brought you back to reality. He was always a little bit concerned about you. He didn’t show it in great actions, it was in the seemingly unimportant things he did for you. There wasn’t anything romantic involved between you two, instead of that it was a deep understanding of each another that made you appreciate the other significantly. You nodded to confirm that you were in fact all right, shrugging it off with a smile.

Klaus was right. After you successfully registered what he was saying, a wave of relief washed over your heart, mind, and soul. Your whole being. For once, all seven of you managed to successfully jump back to 2019 without any harm or mistake being done. It was quite unbelievable. A dreamlike scenario which proved itself to be nearly impossible to believe. Looking around the hall, everything seemed to be all right. It felt okay. The aura was intimately comforting, yet something was amiss. Different. Changed. It certainly was not a malicious ambiance that you discovered, but one new, something yet unexperienced thing. The others noticed it too, as all six of them were looking around suspiciously. Memories, feelings, and people rapidly invaded your mind, those you haven’t thought about a lot. Pogo? Grace? Are they okay now?

Luther suggested to enter the living room ahead of you, so that’s what you all mutually agreed to. Five was the one who went further on before you heroically and begged all of you to proceed with caution, because we don’t know what’s waiting for us there. The walk from the hall to the living room happened painfully slowly given that the feeling of uncertainty was sitting in one and all’s eyes and was at fault for your lack of speed. Upon realizing the academy was unnervingly noiseless, the anxiety birthed a huge lump in your throat, which you couldn’t swallow. Your heart was terrified from the possible negative outcome of this time jump. What if that moment of clarity and amenity was only a façade and was only felt because none of you faced reality in the short but drunk moment of arrival? Sometimes you thought about how nice it would be to just live without worry. To live in pure bliss, without a care in the world. Without a problem in the universe to solve. How astonishing it would be not to recall what loss, trauma, or sadness feels like. But then again, we would live in ignorance that way.

Turning towards the divans and sculptures in the living room, your attention automatically focused on the small moving figure, who was absentmindedly cleaning the shelves with dusting feathers. Recognition hit you like a truck, as the character of an ape appeared before you. Your breath hitched in your throat. Mercifully, it was a positive reaction, a sentiment you haven’t undergone in a long time.

- Pogo?! – Allison was the first one to call out their siblings’ friends’ name. Barely letting his name roll from her tongue, the sea of emotions instantly overthrew her, and tears stormed down her face. Their beloved guardian turned around in shock, he looked so puzzled, it was as he didn’t recognize the people in front of him. You feared that was the case. What if we screwed it up even more?

- Oh, children. I was waiting for you all to return – he’s spoken politely and gifted us with a kind smile, just like he always did. You almost forgot what a courteous and caring figure Pogo was. His scarce although deep voice reminded you of simpler times. A type of nostalgia which you subconsciously yearned for god knows how long. Everyone gathered around him in a matter of seconds, engulfing him in a suffocating hug. Pogo was still bewildered from the sudden act of affection, as you all were from seeing him alive and breathing, but in this instant of happiness, the questions why and how didn’t matter. What mattered was the present minute, what you currently knew as is.

And next, a voice broke the silence.

Who would dare to turn around first? Who wanted to confirm that the voice that was just heard from behind them, came from a legit source? On a serious note, was it even real? Your minds are only playing tricks on you. You were ecstatic for having Pogo back, but it would be too good to be true to turn around and see the possessor of the voice. We can’t have all the wonderful things. It never went that well for you. Your bodies turned stiff, and your feet were frozen on spot. But what made you fear to turn around? The horror of hearing something that’s not truly there or facing it bravely. Something…someone you haven’t faced in roughly two decades.

- What the hell took you guys so long? – the annoyance sounded so raw, hence genuine. You could hear and understand the words crystal clear; then why didn’t you believe your ears?

The group hug disassembled at a snail's pace and turned to face what they never expected to see ever again in their lifetime. You, on the other hand, had secretly wished for a moment like this. Your heart was aching for the chance, not caring about being rational nor delusional. It kept the faith in your soul steady.

- Please, tell me I’m not the only one who can see him – Klaus muttered.

- Ben – Diego confirmed in a hushed tone without letting out any more words as he didn’t need to. He was the bravest out of all of you to speak up.

So, there he stood in his monochrome outfit, with his black leather jacket hugging his form and a coy smile painted all over his face. The faint rosy cheeks, lively eyes and vivid emotions displayed told you everything. The Ben standing in front of you was very much real, and more importantly, alive, and well.

- All of you look like you’ve seen a ghost – he grinned from ear to ear, and his light-hearted joke legitimately freed your body from the tension which held you in your place so aggressively. Number Four didn’t hesitate one second longer, and slammed himself against his brother, who sweetly returned the embrace. Registering it, savouring it, then finally loving the physical contact, Klaus broke up in a hysterical laughter. The group succeeded to pull the strings in a way his death was luckily prevented. How the hell did we manage this? But he didn’t care. All that mattered was the present minute, what he currently knew as is.

- You’re telling me, man – his laugh slowly started to die down, but his joy only rose. Of course, a group hug was crucially needed and initiated effective immediately. Everyone surrounded him, and you held onto each other tightly, so he never slips away from your grasp again. You admitted it to yourself, that it felt heavenly, but more precisely, it felt so damn terrific. The others eventually backed away, but you stayed right in front of him.

- Hey, you – were all he needed to say for you to go flying into his arms – Where have you been? I missed you – his confession was a simple, warm, and loving anecdote, and it broke your heart in the best way possible.

You missed me?

Your loud sobbing, and ocean of tears was baffling and a mystery to him, and he looked at the others with a perplexed expression. They asked him to just let you be because they understood everything perfectly. Each tear was valid and every one of them had a reason. His arms were wrapped around your body, as he was shielding you from all the cruelty in this world. His embrace wasn’t tight, but fond and sensitive enough. You weren’t greedy at all; it was just all too marvellous. Hearing his stable beating heart as he held you close to his chest completely fulfilled you. A featherlight kiss was tenderly placed on your forehead by him, in an attempt to calm you down. It failed, as more droplets of salty water coated your apple-like cheeks. Even so, the kiss was given so compassionately, it must have come from heaven itself.

Maybe you were in Heaven. Maybe your life ended when you arrived in the hall. This isn’t real and I’m probably dead in Diego’s arms by now. But what if you accepted it as your reality now? You couldn’t believe it, even after feeling his touch and his kiss on your body. It might be because you thought you didn’t think your wish to see the person closest to your heart again would ever come true. After the horrific months you went through, it was certainly an impossibility to be gifted with something this enormous, significant, and joyous.

Maybe miracles and lucky days exist. Maybe they existed both on the same day in favour of you. I’ll accept this, I deserve this. You absolutely deserve to be happy and to drop the burden that’s been weighing on your soul for years. Nobody deserves to live their lives in inescapable guilt and grief. Having Ben back in all your lives meant the world to you. You were thinking about how you might have to fill him in on the details of the previous events, but that was a case for a later part of the day. For now, it was nice to bask in his love and warmth. You’ll care about every other issue later. This was the only feeling that mattered in that moment. Peace finally taking its rightful place back in your heart, which has been waiting for it for a long time now. He radiated pureness, an energy which was incomparable to anything else. Clutching his jacket was your anxiety making sure he doesn’t leave again. Maybe he was reading your thoughts, but at the same time he was realizing he’d never leave you even if it meant his life.

- I missed you too.

[musette22]

Drunk in Boston

Pairing: Chris Evans x Sebastian Stan (Evanstan)

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: A week or so ago, I saw this post. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, so I decided to write a ficlet, a little Evanstan AU. It’s a bit late maybe, since Christmas has already been and gone, but it’s still technically the holidays so just indulge me? :p 

Also, I hit 3k followers this week, so this is also a sort of thank you to all you amazing, wonderful, beautiful people for getting me here. Love you all as much as I love these boys as much as they love each other 💘 Hope you enjoy!

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

It’s 3 p.m. on 17 December, and Chris is a little bit drunk. Maybe even a lotta bit.

In his defense, he is currently in Boston for a bachelor party and they did just do a tour of the Samuel Adams Brewery. It’s not like he makes a habit of daytime drinking. Not this much, anyway.

Chris stumbles out of the bar that’s attached to the brewery, surrounded by a dozen or so old school friends, all of whom are in a similar state of inebriation, when they pass the gift shop and a familiar image catches his eye. Chris stops in his tracks. On closer inspection, what he saw turns out to be a photo, displayed in a stand outside the shop, of a park in Concord near where Chris grew up.

No, not a photo.

A postcard.

He plucks the card from the stand, swaying on his feet a little as he peers at it. In the image, the park is covered in snow, much like it would be right now, and stamped across it in a red, gothic font are the words ‘Happy Holidays’.

Instantly, Chris is hit by a wave of nostalgia. No doubt the feeling is heightened by the alcohol – he always tends to get a little sentimental when he’s drunk – but it’s not just that. It’s also the fact that Chris and his friends have been reminiscing about the good old days all afternoon as well as the sudden, depressing realization that despite all he’s achieved in the past decade or so, his happiest memories are probably those of childhood Christmases spent in Concord.

These days, Chris lives in on the West Coast. He’s kind of a superstar now, after all, and superstars live in LA – everybody knows that. Chris doesn’t usually let himself dwell too much on how lonely he is there, or how he misses the comforting accents and the real winters of the East Coast. Tonight, though, whether because of the booze in his system or the ghosts of Christmas past, he allows himself to feel the stab of homesickness.

Without conscious input from his brain, Chris finds himself buying the postcard. When the cashier asks him if he’ll be needing he stamp, too, he hesitates. “Yeah, why not,” he decides, on a whim. It’s a Christmas card, after all, and Christmas cards are supposed to be sent.

There’s just one slight issue with his plan, Chris realizes as soon as he puts the borrowed pen to the card.

He’ll need an address to send the card to.

Frowning, he taps the pen against the counter, thinking as hard as his beer-addled brain will allow him, but the only address he can think of off the top of his head is that of his childhood home, back in Concord. But… that would be weird, right? He has no idea who’s been living there, since his parents sold the house after the divorce. Then again, Chris tells himself, this could be his good Christmas deed. Sending a postcard to a total stranger just to wish them happy holidays, that’s totally in the Christmas spirit, isn’t it?

With a decisive nod of his head, Chris puts his pen to paper and starts to write. It’s just a few lines, because there’s only so much you can say to a total stranger, but when he signs off with his initials, he feels good about it. He asks the cashier for the nearest post box, which happens to be just outside the building, so he thanks the guy and heads outside.

Pulling his pea coat tighter around him against the glacial December air, Chris spares the card one last look, and drops into the post box. It feels significant, somehow.

He doesn’t get time to dwell on it though, because the moment his friends spot him, he’s immediately and enthusiastically subsumed back into the group and dragged on to the next boozy destination.

Three drinks on, Chris has forgotten all about the postcard.

***

On the morning of 18 December, Sebastian Stan opens his postbox to find a postcard with a photo of the park near his house on the front, and a hastily scribbled message on the back:

Hey,

I used to live in your house.

I’m drunk in Boston, and it’s the only address I know.

Happy Holidays,

C.E.

Even after re-reading the message three times, Sebastian is none the wiser as to who sent it.

It makes sense other people used to live in the house Sebastian’s been renting, but unsurprisingly, he has no clue who they were. It was only last year that he’d decided to relocate from New York to Concord, craving a change of pace and more peace and quiet than the Big Apple had been able to offer. He’d visited Concord on a research trip for his third novel the year before and had immediately taken a liking to it. So when, after asking his estate agent to put out some feelers in the area, the guy had found him this beautiful place to rent within a day, Sebastian had taken it as a sign.

It’s a big old house – more appropriate for a family than a man living alone, perhaps – but Sebastian can afford it, and it has a lived-in vibe that makes it feel intimate, somehow. Its location on the edge of a large park, peaceful apart from the joggers and young families that frequent it, suits his needs perfectly, too. Despite being a successful author, Sebastian prefers to keep himself to himself. He’s not one for ostentatious book tours or photoshoots, doesn’t believe in social media beyond its promotional potential, and he’s found that he blends in perfectly in this picturesque little town.

In addition to being a private person, however, Sebastian is an inherently curious one.

It’s why he became a writer in the first place, and it’s also why the random, slightly mysterious postcard instantly fascinates him. Someone who decides to send a Christmas card to the stranger living in their childhood home has got to be an interesting person, Sebastian figures.

Unable to resist the temptation, he finds the landlord’s number and presses call.

“The initials C.E.?”

“C.E., that’s right,” Sebastian repeats patiently. “I received a postcard from someone with those initials who said they used to live in this house and wished me Happy Holidays. I’d like to thank them for the card, maybe tell them they’re free to come by the house anytime, if that’s something they’d like.”

“Well,” the landlord says, clear hesitation in his tone. “I wouldn’t usually give out this kind of information, especially not about this particular person. But seeing as he approached you first, I guess it should be alright…”

Chris Evans.

Famous Hollywood actor Chris Evans used to live in Sebastian’s house. The house he’s renting. Whatever.

The point is, Chris Evans sent him a postcard. Sebastian would be lying if he said that knowledge didn’t make his heart beat a little faster. He isn’t one to get star-struck, normally, knowing full well the rich and famous are people just like anyone else, only with an added layer of expensive, sparkly veneer.

Chris Evans, though. Well, let’s just say Chris’s blue eyes, his dazzling smile, and his chest – god, that chest – had helped along Sebastian’s gay awakening considerably, all those years ago.

So even though he realizes what he’s about to do could be considered slightly unethical, the next number Sebastian dials is that of his agent. There’s no harm in asking if there’s any chance she could use her industry connections to pass on a message to Chris Evans, surely?

“Chris Evans?” his agent repeats blankly. “The British radio DJ or the actor?”

Sebastian huffs out a laugh. “Actor. Definitely the actor. Why would I want to send a message to a British radio DJ?”

“Why would you want to send a message to the actor?” she shoots back. “Apart from the obvious, of course.” 

Touché.

Once he’s explained the situation to her, his agent hums thoughtfully. “Alright, I’ll admit that’s pretty amazing,” she says. “As it happens, I know someone at CAA who owes me a favor. I’ll see what I can do.”

Sebastian thanks her warmly, and then he waits.

***

That afternoon, Chris gets a phone call from his agent.

“Thank you for the postcard,” she reads aloud. “If you're ever in the neighborhood, you’re welcome to stop by the house and have a look around, for old time’s sake. Happy Holidays, Sebastian Stan.”

“Sebastian Stan?” Chris asks, eyebrows shooting up. “The author?”

“Oh, you know him?”

“Well, no. Not exactly. I’ve read one of his books, though, the one that’s shortlisted for the Pulitzer price, I think? He’s very good.”

His agent hums. “If you say so. Do you want me to pass a message back to him?”

Chris opens his mouth to say yes, then closes it again. “Actually,” he says, making a spur-of-the-moment decision, “I’m still in the area so I think I’ll just pay him a visit. Do you think you could you cancel my flight back to LA this afternoon?”

His agent grumbles at him for a bit but eventually concedes, though not before she’s made Chris promise he’ll be back in LA on Tuesday, for the Christmas special he’s due to appear in. Fun.

For a few moments after he’s ended the call, Chris stares out of the window of his hotel room. It’s snowing again, big flakes fluttering down from the sky, slowly turning the grey, slushy roads white again. He wonders if Pulitzer-finalist Sebastian Stan likes to make snow angels in the backyard too, like Chris used to do.

Putting his phone between his shoulder and his ear, Chris starts to put his things in his overnight bag, and calls an Uber.

It’s almost twilight, by the time the cab come to a stop in front of the house. Chris thanks the driver and steps out, booted feet sinking into the freshly fallen snow. It’s piling up quickly, he notices distantly.

It’s odd, being back here, after everything that’s happened since he moved away, so Chris gives himself a moment to just stand there, in the middle of the deserted street, taking in the sight of house he grew up in.

The house that holds countless memories, many of them good, some of them not so much. His first dog and his first kiss. Scraped knees and snowball fights. Raucous laughter and hissed arguments.

The house looks the same but different.

Chris walks up to the front door, snow crunching under his boots, and rings the doorbell.

***

Chris Evans is on Sebastian’s doorstep.

All blue-eyed, bearded, gloriously muscled, six-foot-something of him.

“Uh,” Chris says, blinking at him in something like surprise before his gaze sweeps up and down Sebastian’s body in a blatant once-over. “Sebastian Stan?”

“Oh wow, you actually came,” Sebastian blurts by way of reply.

Chris’s eyes widen. “Oh, I’m sorry, I just thought- ‘cause you said-”  

“No, no, it’s fine,” Sebastian interrupts. “I did say that. I just- I guess I wasn’t expecting you to really turn up – or not this soon, at least. But it’s no trouble at all, I live alone so it’s nice to have a visitor. Especially, y’know. You.” Forcing himself to stop talking, Sebastian runs a hand through his messy hair and wishes he’d worn something better suited to meeting one’s celebrity crush. “Sorry,” he says, smiling sheepishly. “Let’s try that again. Hi, I’m Sebastian Stan.”

“Chris Evans.” Chris smiles back warmly as he shakes Sebastian’s extended hand. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

“Lovely,” Sebastian repeats, holding Chris’s gaze. There are tiny flecks of green mixed in with the blue of his eyes, and his lashes would put any Maybelline model to shame. It takes Sebastian longer than it should to remember to let go of Chris’s hand, but fortunately, Chris doesn’t seem to be in any rush either. Huh. Sebastian clears his throat. “Would you- would you like to come in?”

“I’d love to, if you’re putting out,” Chris replies. There’s a beat, and then he freezes, eyes widening in horror. “If I’m not putting you out – not- not if you’re- I wasn’t, I didn’t mean- oh my god, Chris, stop talking you meatball,” Chris groans covering his face with a large hand. His next words come out a little muffled. “I am so sorry. Just ignore me. I have a horrible hangover, I promise I’m not usually this much of a disaster.”

Sebastian laughs, equally charmed by Chris’s helpless chattering as he is by the blush coloring his cheeks, just visible above the line of Chris’s well-groomed beard.

“You’re fine, I’m not easily offended,” he assures him, stepping aside to let Chris into the hallway. “I can take a lot.”

Oh.

This time, it’s Sebastian’s turn to wince at his choice of words, but when he tentatively glances back at his visitor to see if he noticed, he stills. The look on Chris’s face instantly makes him forget all about feeling embarrassed.

Still standing by the door, melting snow forming puddles around his feet, Chris is watching him intently. There’s something curious in his gaze, something sharp and searching.

It makes Sebastian’s breath catch in his throat. He swallows, resisting the impulse to avert his gaze, play it off as a joke. Instead, he makes himself stare right back. Lets the tension build, lets it simmer and crackle as it stretches out between them, growing stronger with every second they spend looking at each other in heavy silence.

“That right?” Chris asks finally, his voice a low rumble that settles in Sebastian’s bones like smoldering embers. Chris takes a careful step forward, slowly, giving him every chance to back away.

Sebastian stays where he is. 

“Mmm,” he hums, catching his bottom lip between his teeth and biting down lightly, experimentally, on the soft, plump flesh. When Chris’s eyes flick down to his mouth instantly, homing in on it like an eagle on its prey, Sebastian decides to take a chance.

“Tell you what,” Sebastian says huskily, stepping closer under Chris’s dark, watchful gaze. “Why don’t you give me a tour and show me which bedroom used to be yours-” he comes to a halt right in front of Chris, looking up at him through his eyelashes, “and maybe you’ll find out just how much I can take, hm?”

For a moment, Sebastian holds his breath, praying he read this thing right and didn’t accidentally sexually harass a virtual stranger – but then Chris growls and surges forward, and Sebastian knows his gamble is about to pay off.

Big time.

Merry Christmas to me, Sebastian thinks wildly, just before Chris claims his mouth in a searing kiss. After that, he stops thinking altogether.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

[xiaomoxu]

MLQC CN Lucien - Chapter 13-15 (Season 2)

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

A main story from CN server which hasn’t been released in EN server. Contains detailed spoiler from the main story. It’s just a slight scene from Chapter 13-15 Lucien’s story.

Please prepare your heart before proceeding. 

-- From Me, who loves torturing myself... (ಥ﹏ಥ)

Lucien: Didn't you say, don't miss such good weather.

I looked up at Lucien, his eyes were bright, as if filled with the whole spring.

Just walking side by side with him like this, I seem to have a good feeling that everything is starting in a new direction

On the lawn, several children were chasing and running, waiting in the wind.

Looking at the colorful wind in the sky, a certain promise that I have always kept in my heart suddenly appeared again.

I looked up until Lucien's voice rang in my ears.

Lucien: Do you like flying kites?

I turned my head, his eyes moved with the kite in the air.

MC: I don't like it, it's just... I have a promise with someone to fly a kite before the end of spring.

MC: But until the end of that spring, this promise didn't come true.

I think of the little boy standing in the snow in his dream. Perhaps in my wishful thinking, I hope that he will be like me and remember this promise.

....it's a pity.

How about treating everything from before as a heavy snowfall?

MC: Huh?

Lucien: It is not often that the author compares the plight of people's hardship and attrition to a heavy snow, and after the leap, the heavy snow melts into a spring day.

Lucien: Spring is not necessarily just a fixed time.

Lucien: Look...

He said, catching a petal slowly in the air, in the bright sunlight, it was full of fresh and vivid colors.

Lucien: Now, spring has just begun.

MC: Isn't it a big mess?

Lucien: How come?

His eyebrows were crooked, as if holding all his nostalgia and regrets gently in front of me.

Saying slyly and softly that he is not late yet.

Many things can be started again.

Perhaps this time, it's time for me to start the promise.

MC: Lucien, I will treat you to a coffee.

MC: As a thank you, I want you to promise me one thing.

Lucien: What?

MC: Wait till I come back to tell you! You are waiting for me here.

After I said that, I turned and left, quickly bought two cups of coffee, and happily walked towards Lucien.

MC: Lucien, we....

Suddenly something exploded in my chest.

A faint tremor spread from the soles of my feet to the top of my head, making me unable to move my legs and staying on the spot in a daze.

I lowered my head, and the sudden cold spot on my chest exuded a bright red, gradually expanding, and then a stinging burning sensation swept through my body.

I dropped my hand and let the coffee hit the ground.

The strong smell of blood rushed into the nose, and the body leaned back uncontrollably.

I seem to hear the whistling wind passing by my ears, and I seem to hear Lucien calling my name.

I seem to have seen him running towards me nervously.

I never seeing him like this.

My body was so painful that like I was torn, my eyelids were too heavy to open, and everything in front of me became trance.

The last thing I saw, the only thing I could see clearly was Lucien's face

After the girl didn't move, Lucien heard a faint sound in the air.

The sound of gunshots arriving slowly over a long distance, without any concealment, did not cause any waves in the lively park.

But this silent sound hit Lucien's heart fiercely.

All the blood rushed to the brain almost at this moment, and he felt the heart thumping a hundred times more intensely than before.

For a moment, he hoped that he had heard it wrong and had a wrong judgment. The girl would soon jump up to him and handed the coffee in her hand to himself.

Today will still be an ordinary and even beautiful day.

But none of these hopes happened.

He looked at the bright red blooming on the girl's chest and the bright smile on her face.

The coffee hit the ground unexpectedly, and the brown splashes dirty the corners of her skirt.

Lucien almost ran towards the girl and caught her who had fallen.

The sticky red liquid overflowed with tears from her chest. He pressed hard on the wound, but the blood continued to flow down his fingers.

He tightly circled the girl, his knuckles turned pale because of too much force.

But she closed her eyes quietly, without any response, the temperature was fading little by little.

Lucien couldn't see the sadness in his eyes, nor could he see the fear that he had never even thought of.

But he clearly saw that in the black and white world, the only color was slowly fading.

The breeze blows, and the blooming cherry trees make a rustling sound. The petals and the new green leaves on the branches are slowly falling.

He seemed to hear the sound of a solidified door being gently opened.

Spring is here, and everything seems to have just begun.

A fleeting reflection flashed from the roof a hundred meters away, and the black shadow neatly put away the gun and disappeared on the roof.

??: The target has been shot and the mission result is being confirmed.

The mini computer in hand displayed some kind of data analysis, and soon the red light from the screen was reflected on the man's lens.

??: The CORE gene recognition bullet has no response, and the target can be eliminated.

---END---

FOR GOD SAKE this scene is more painful than R&S before. Poor my fragile heart (╥﹏╥) when Lucien will be happy?  (×﹏×)

Hope you guys enjoy reading this translation. Let me know if there’s a mistake ^^ THANK YOU~

[kishillaa]

SSM21 Day 11: Safe and Sound

This promt is the continuation of my SSM21 Day 10 promt.

***

"He was killed?"

"Yeah."

"Who did?"

"Some Konoha girl."

Snorted, "Didn't think Sasori would be defeated by a female."

"I wouldn't look past that. She is the Fifth Hokage's apprentice. Sakura Haruno if I'm not mistaken."

"I haven't heard about her."

"Meh, she's young. Anyway, I heard Sasori's henchmen is after her. She was able to create antidote for his famous poison. They went rage and wanted to kill her."

"Of course they will be. His poison is what kept them strong all this while."

"True. But I don't think they know though. The Konoha people."

"Sasori do works in secret. No one exactly knew he has a group of his own. If you weren't one of 'em before, we wouldn't have known either."

"Sneaky one, I must say."

-

The conversation Sasuke had accidentally heard during one of his mission for Orochimaru played in his mind.

There is only one female with pink hair in the village he left behind.

Sakura.

Sasuke was panting rather heavily, as he looks over the mess before him. A few of older men laying on the forest floor, at the brink of their death after the ever so furious Sasuke Uchiha, knocked them out of their breath, killing each and everyone of them.

It's been 2 years, and knowing the pink haired ex teammate of his were in danger, that she isn't aware of, knicked him off making he went reckless and find the pursuer at the boarder of the Konoha village. He was lucky he found them first, or else he might be the one laying on the ground, waiting for death calling for him.

He was furious, more to himself than anyone else. He had severed the bond, he was sure of it. But why, just at the mention of the pink hair konoha kunoichi made him do things he doesn't want to, things he should not necessarily do. Sure, they have started exchange letters by his summon, but he still doesn't want to have anything to do with her for now, until his goal is fulfilled.

Sasuke let out a defeated sigh, before he move away from Sasori's henchmen.

As if has the mind of their own, his legs and body makes it way through the forest towards Konoha hidden village. He quickly move to the top of the building when he reached the village at midnight.

From where he is locating, he can see that Sakura's window is widely open as if inviting him in.

Without further ado, he move using the roof and hop onto an electrical post to have a better view into Sakura's room.

He can clearly saw Sakura's sleeping figure as she sleeps with only her head peaking out of the blanket while the other part of the body was covered under it.

She looks distress, rather than calm in her sleep made Sasuke couldn't help but go closer and got into her room.

As if sensing Sasuke's presence, Sakura's head tilted to his direction.

Sasuke hold his breath and wait to see her reaction. When she didn't make any move after that, Sasuke let out a relief sigh.

He moves closer, standing beside her bed looking down at her trouble looking sleeping figure. Slowly, Sasuke sit himself on her tiled floor and stare at her sleeping face.

And then, "S–Sasuke - k-kun."

It was so faint, he almost couldn't hear it but of course he knew she was saying his name.

"P-please dont go." She mumurs again.

-

Sakura blinks, and when she did it for third time, she sees Sasuke. It isn't really Sasuke she knew though. Sasuke she remembered from her dream doesn't look as matured as this, and he usually wear a dark blue shirt that he often wore during their genin days. Sakura quickly dismiss the widen eyes Sasuke, thinking that its another dream.

Sakura groans, as she stretched out a little.

"You're up."

That voice makes her stop mid stretching, as her head snap to her side. "Sasuke-kun!"

She sat up so quick that her head went buzzed with dizziness. She hold it and wince, "Oww."

"Slow down." He said, somehow amused.

At that voice, she look at him. Biting her lips as tears of happiness and longing pooled in her eyes, she lunged herself at the Uchiha, bringing him into her embrace.

She was crying, that was obvious, "I missed you so much." She said in between her sobs, tightening her hold on him, afraid that he's going to leave her too soon.

"I should go back now." Sasuke said.

"I know. Ju–just let me hug you a second." She heard him sigh before he complies and circle his own hands around her. One of his hand is lowering her head to under his chin as he sniffs her hair.

"Your hair smell different, again." He mumbles.

"No, not really. I'm still using the same shampoo, but I just got back from the hospital few hours ago so the smell must've mixed with antiseptic or something." And then she cries harder, "I'm sorry, I didn't know you're coming, if I do I would've shower and wash my hair with that shampoo you like so much, but I just went out of a 24-hour shift and I was just so god damn tired, and one of my patients just died, and I could've save him, but I couldn't." And now she is crying with a whole different reason.

When finally, finally, her cries subsided, Sasuke spoke, "I don't mind. And I don't like them so much. It was just pleasant than this one." She likes how he purposefully left the dead patient out as he runs his fingers through her unruly hair. It always soothe and calmed her when he did, and he knew that.

She whines again, saying something she thought as I could've smell way better than this. Liking the way his hand combing her hair. A wave of nostalgia hit her like a tsunami as their secret moment as genin plays in her mind, if possible, she tighten her hands around him even more. She was just so glad Sasuke isn't one to complain simple stuff like that.

When they were in their kind-of-dating relationship, Sasuke has always sniff on her hair, he once revealed that he likes her smell, it was floral green shampoo which smell minty rain forest. She unfortunately had to change her shampoo to a coconut with vanilla scented shampoo when Pakkun said he use the same one. It traumatised her to use the same shampoo as a dog.

"It's still your smell." He heard him say as he breaths in her scent again causing the heat move up to her face. She pulls away gently to look him in the eye.

Before she utters a single word, Sasuke spoke, "You were hunt by Sasori's henchmen."

Sakura's eyes widen at the news, "What? How do you know?"

Sakura watch as his shoulder moves up and down slowly, "I have my source."

"From Orochimaru?"

Sasuke shakes his head, "No. They didn't even know Sasori was dead."

She nodded, feeling relieved, if Orochimaru knew, their chances went lower to zero to put up to their idea in finding his hideout, "Good. I have to be careful, then."

"There's no need. I killed them all."

This time, Sakura's eyes widen again in surprised, "What?"

"You heard me."

"I know, but why?"

He rolls his eyes and scoff, "Because who else is going to clean the Uchiha compound if you're dead." he deadpan.

The sarcasm lacing through the sentence was so loud that Sakura has to laugh, "You're such a dork, Sasuke-kun."

"Hn." Was his smart boring response.

"Do you have any injuries? I can heal you."

"Just small cuts hear and there. I'll be fine." But Sakura insist.

"Please, let me show off my improved skills while you're away."

And show off she did.

"You're good."

Sakura beamed, with small blush covering her cheeks, "I've learnt from the best."

"That's good, then. I can't seems to regret leaving you now that you're able to heal and kill at the same time."

"Sasuke-kun, don't say that. I will always wanted you stay. It feels so lonely when I sat at the dock few weeks after your departure, that I had to stop going."

Sasuke didn't voice out anything after that as they sit in silence.

"Thank you for coming tonight,"

Sasuke shrugs, "Just want to make sure you're safe and sound."

Sakura's teeth sunk into her lower lips as a sob makes it way out of her throat, he's saying goodbye. Without very much of a warning, Sakura cup Sasuke's cheeks, angle her head and capture his lips with hers.

Her tears cascade down her cheeks at the nostalgic way Sasuke went rigid at her sudden attack before he kiss her with just the same intensity. His lips is still as soft as she remembered, he's still a little bit stiff at the beginning of their kiss, and still so furiously good as they went by.

When they pull apart, both were breathing so hard as their forehead attached, "I love you, Sasuke-kun. I still do. Always do."

"I know," He said, and then, "Thank you, Sakura." All she can feels is a soft peck on her forehead while her eyes focus on the whirling of tomoe of Sasuke's sharingan, bringing her to a deep slumber.

[misteria247]

The car ride to your mother's felt like it happened in the blink of an eye by the time you pulled up into the driveway. The familiar house that you'd grown up in stood proudly in front of you as you parked your car. Elliott sat quietly in the backseat, his big green eyes focused on the house with a somewhat blank stare. Turning a bit to face your son you gave him a small look, concerned.

"Are you alright little one?"

You asked softly. Elliott blinked and looked away from the house to look at you.

"I'm okay Mama."

Elliott said his gaze flickering back to the house. You gave him a long searching look, opening your mouth to say something else when you heard your mother's voice calling out from the doorway.

"(Y/N)! Elliott! You're finally here! Do hop out of the car and come inside! I've just finished making a jug of sweet tea for you two!"

Your mother's voice chirped happily. You sighed softly and let it drop, planning on talking to your son later. As soon as Elliott heard your mother's voice he began to bounce in his booster seat, eyes sparkling with happiness. You couldn't help but chuckle softly as you got out of the car and went to let your son out. As soon as he was set free and on the ground he bolted towards your mother, his face bright.

"Grandma! Grandma!"

Elliott shouted in childish delight. Your mother laughed bending down to catch your son in her arms. The older woman held him tightly and hugged him.

"Oh my goodness it's my favorite grandson!"

Your mother cooed earning a giggle from Elliot. You followed up behind him standing before your mother and son, a soft affectionate smile on your face.

"I'm your only grandson grandma!"

Elliott chirped happily. You mother smiled pretending to look surprised.

"Oh that's right! But that doesn't mean you aren't my favorite!"

Your mother said lovingly before kissing his chubby cheek earning a squeal of delight from the child. Your mother let go of Elliott shortly after and pulled you into a tight hug.

"Hey sweetheart, how have you been?"

Your mother asked you softly, her eyes holding a mother like worry in them.

"I've been good. A bit stressed but I'll live. It's good to see you mom."

You said softly with a smile. Your mother smiled back at you before letting you go and leading you and Elliott into the house. You couldn't help but feel a wave of nostalgia hit you as you stepped inside the old house. The house was just the same as when you'd left it with your small son Elliott when you'd finally found a place to live for the two of you. Elliott was quick to go running deeper into the house, wanting to play and explore the place despite being here several times before. You and your mother laughed at the boy's enthusiasm before heading towards the kitchen to sit down and chat for awhile with each other. A good talk with your mother was a good way to forget the phantom pain of remembering and missing him.

~~~~~

Elliott ran further into his grandmother's home, being careful not to appear too excited to leave you and his grandmother alone while he explored the house for the billionth time in a row. As he heard the sounds of you and your mother's footsteps heading towards the kitchen area to have your chatting time, the small boy slowed his pace and quietly made his way towards the stairs that lead to the basement. With a somewhat hesitant hand Elliott opened the door and crept down the stairs towards the darkness below. The basement was dark and musty smelling as he descended down the rickety old stairs, his heart pounding in his small chest. Elliott knew that he shouldn't be down here alone, as the basement was incredibly old and needed desperate attention in the cleaning area. However he believed that the possible punishment for being caught would be worth it in the end, if what he'd been told was true.

The boy continued onwards trying to remember what he was supposed to be looking for. Finally he hit the bottom stair and stepped onto the ground floor. Bright green eyes scanned the darkness of the place, looking for something that might be out of place. After searching for a moment or two and finding nothing out of the ordinary Elliott couldn't help but feel a lump form in his throat.

"So he lied....."

The child muttered in a somewhat shaky and frustrated voice. He'd broken the rules for nothing. Elliott sunk to the ground not caring about getting his clothes dirty as frustrated tears started to sting in his eyes. He should have known better than to try and look for something that didn't exist, but he couldn't help but hope that perhaps this person was actually helping him in a way. Elliott sniffled wiping his cheeks angrily. He felt betrayed and incredibly hurt by the lies that his supposed friend told him.

'Mama always said to be careful....'

Elliott's conscience whispered making him wilt at the thought of you. Elliott honestly wouldn't have been down here in this smelly basement if it wasn't for you, his precious mother. The child hiccuped as his frustration boiled up. His friend was a liar and because of that you were going to be upset with him and possibly hurting. The thought of your face filling with that hint of sadness made Elliott's heart twist. He hated the thought of you being sad, he hated the sight of your tears. He maybe six but he wasn't stupid, in fact he was a rather clever child for his age.

'Not clever enough to not listen to a dream....'

The thought whispered nastily making him flinch. The dream that introduced him to his strange friend. The dream that allowed him to talk to his friend, the strange creature in the mirror. The friend who was a liar.

'Go to the basement at your grandmother's house Elliott. You'll find the answers that you seek there.'

The voice echoed in the back of his mind, the high pitched tone ringing in his ears. Elliott shook his head angrily as more tears started to spill down his pale cheeks. He didn't know what to do or what to look for, he'd only wanted to help you be happy and he couldn't even do that much. Instead he ended up listening to a weird creature that didn't even exist and it was a fruitless attempt.

"I'm sorry Mama...."

He whimpered softly. Elliott buried his face into his knees and finally gave into his tears and his overwhelming feeling of disappointment. He had only wanted to see you smile a real smile, from the moment he could understand things he had noticed that you always seemed saddened by something. Your smiles seemed dull and your eyes held pain whenever you would look at him. He could still remember how he'd heard sobbing coming from your bedroom at night when you believed him asleep, making him want to cry with you. It was around this time that he'd started getting the dreams and when he'd met his friend. Every night he'd find himself in a place unfamiliar yet familiar all at once, a large mirror always facing him with the shadowed figure of his friend speaking to him. And each night was filled with conversation and other things, which at the time made perfect sense to him. But now sitting in the dark basement alone covered in dust and dirt and dried tears did Elliott realize how stupid it was. The child rubbed his eyes again, trying to get rid of his tears before standing up slowly. He knew that as soon as you saw him you'd scold him for coming down here without an adult.

Elliott sucked in a shaky breath and brushed himself off before making his way back towards the stairs. As the boy went to step onto the first stair a sudden small light caught his eye. Turning towards the light Elliott narrowed his eyes to see what it was before a cloud of confusion covered him. Sitting on the wall on the far side of the basement was a mirror. Elliott stared at it, a sudden ray of hope bursting inside him. Could it be....? The small child didn't hesitate as he turned from the basement stairs and made his way towards the strange shining mirror. Once he made it he stood in front of it with a curious gaze, unsure of what he should do.

Was this the thing his friend was talking about? Was his friend actually telling him the truth?

Before he could ponder these questions the six year old felt something perk up deep inside himself. An ancient pull leading him and calling out to him as he stepped closer to the mirror.

'Come closer.....'

Elliott stepped even closer the once unsure feeling disappearing as he gazed into it.

'Come.....come to me......child of the throns and man......'

Elliott couldn't help but obey, his hand reaching out towards the mirror and its smooth shining surface. Alarm was shooting through him as he realized what was going on and he couldn't help but panic mentally as his body moved on its own, his hand touching the mirror. What had happened next was something that Elliott had never experienced before. The shining mirror seemed to beam and engulf him causing a sudden feeling of pure childish terror to overwhelm him. Elliott didn't hesitate in what he did next as he opened his mouth and let out the loudest terrified scream a six year old could muster.

"MAMA-!!!!"

~~~~~

The sound of a child screaming made you fly out of your chair, your mother right behind you. Adrenaline and fear forced you to move faster than you usually would, your parental instincts screaming.

'Elliott's in danger! My baby.....he's in danger.....!'

Your mothering instincts screamed. You bolted from the kitchen towards the sounds of Elliott's screaming. You felt your blood freeze as you heard the pure terror in his tone as he screamed for you, his voice coming from the basement.

"MAMA-!!!"

You about threw yourself down the flight of stairs, jumping down a good few of them to get to him faster.

"ELLIOTT!!!"

You screamed out as you ran down the stairs nearly tripping over your own two feet. You didn't hear your mother shouting out you or Elliott's names, too focused on getting to your son. You had a few more stairs before you finally got to the ground floor.

'Please....! Oh dear God please don't let my baby.....!'

You pleaded desperately as your feet finally touched the basement floor. You were nearly blinded by a bright light and you watched in muted horror as your beloved son was engulfed in a bright light. You didn't think, only acted at that moment. You flew towards your son and grabbed him making him shriek in terror before he realized it was you. Pulling him closer to you, you clung to him for dear life shielding him as the light engulfed you as well. You only managed to see a glimpse of your mother's horrified face coming down the stairs before you and Elliott were blinded and the world disappeared around you.

~~~~~

You were free falling, your body tossed out of the mirror like a ragdoll as you curled up around your son. You hit the ground harshly, your shoulder and side hitting a marbled floor. You yelped in pain as your body made contact making Elliott cry out.

"Mama!!"

The boy sobbed in a shaking voice clinging to you. You held him tightly to you sitting up on the ground and holding Elliott out to look him over.

"Are you hurt?!? Elliott answer me please!!"

You begged him as you looked for any possible injuries. Elliott blinked shaking slightly before he answered.

"I-I'm okay mama...."

He whispered. You felt yourself sag in relief seeing and hearing that your son was okay. Pulling him back into a tight hug you kissed the top of his head. Elliott clung to you and started to sob as the panic and fear began to wear off. You shushed him softly, rocking him in place to help calm him down. As you did this you were unaware of the presence that appeared in the room with you.

"(Y/N)......?"

A voice suddenly spoke out in the room making you jump and quickly turn towards the voice, keeping Elliott away from the source with a protective embrace. Your gaze landed on a familiar face, one that you thought you'd never see again.

"No.....it can't be......!"

*Evil laughs. Cliffhanger anyone? I was feeling inspired today and I just went with my brain cell weeee! It seems the reader and her baby boy Elliott are in a rather unpredictable situation. Who's the voice that knows you? Who's Elliott's mysterious friend? Only time will tell! Next time on DBZ- jk jk sgdgdgdgf. Anyways sorry if this sucks and if any y'all read this I hope you enjoyed it!!!*

[ah-yes-paris]

beatles harmonies that cured my depression.

It is important that i discuss this. Well, not really important I just really wanted to share. This is in no particular order either it's just the ones that come to the top of my head lol. Feel free to reblog and share your own 😎

1. The "Woahoooah AHHHHH" from When I Get Home.

Not even words can describe the battery power that starts coursing through my veins when I hear this harmony. I cant even,....LIKE HELLO??? i have never heard such a blessing... Such a well-fitting triplet of voices singing a vowel thats made me feel like i can run 10 miles straight. They aren't real. The Beatles, of course. To this day I don't understand how this harmony exists in this universe. My ears melt everytime. One of my favorites, in case you couldn't tell.

2. The obvious.. "yeah yeah yeah YEAHH" from She Loves You :)

LET ME TELL YOU. oh my god let me tell yo u .. Way back when, when I was a new fan... Good lord. I was literally ascending. ASCENDING. i felt every inch of my body start to lift off the ground. Im sure im not the only one who's experienced this. I remember thinking 'how the wiggle wubble do 3 men sound so GOOD TOGETHER' IT DOES NOT ADD UP PEOPLE THE BEATLES HAVE TO BE SOME SORT OF ROBOTIC BOY BAND GROWN IN A LAB THIS ISNT POSSIBLE how do we live on the same dimensional plane that this harmony lives on..

3. "The magical mystery tour, is coming to take you away, Coming to take you away!" from Magical Mystery Tour.

...

guys. Guys you dont understand. This one line, adds, YEARS. LITERAL YEARS TO MY LIFE SPAN. At this point I am fully immortal. The "coming to take you awayyy" makes my heart POUND. i love this song so much... And this line especially... It makes me go insane. Basically the beatles are manic melody genuises that have successfully spread one of the biggest diseases in musical history. Personally, I think this line was a clear example of why.

4. "Last night I said these words to my girl", "Please pleaase me, oh yeah, like i please you...", "...With you! Oh yeah, why do you make me blue" from Please Please Me.

do i even have to say anything. Well, i dont but i will for the sake of the post. There is so much. So much. About this song that I. I cant even,,. I would choose this song over SO MANY BEATLES SONGS DUDE. not that its cause i think its better than all the others but it just holds such a special place in my heart. Its the only song thats Ever made me feel some intense wave of nostalgia for a decade i wasnt even born in. Its one of the songs that continue to make me question the beatles existance. How could something like this ever come to reality. My brain has never been so pleased in its life.

5. "Carve your number on my wall and maybe you will get a call from me" from If I Needed Someone.

The way that this song was added into my Liked playlist SO QUICKLY...... God. I love george. Hes my favorite after all. Rubber Soul as a whole makes me feel warm inside but this song and this one line just hits so much more intensely for some reason... Their voices just flow insanely well and I just DONT UNDERSTAND HOW. its like an angel choir making its way through the clouds as you see the gate to heaven start to appear. Wonderful song and mind-blowing harmony... The beat is so good too and i just explode.

6. The "ahhhhh Ahhhhh AHhhhh *inhale* AHHHhhhh AHHHHH *inhale* AHHHHHH" from Day Tripper.

HOLY JESUS CHIRST THIS SONG HAS SO MUCH TO UNPACK... There are undeniably A BUNCH of other flawless harmonies in this song but my god the beatles knew what they were doing. Thats all I'm going to say really.... But once again. Power. In my veins. A few listens to this song and you'll find yourself having the strength of 1,000 men.

7. "Oh, now", "All I want is you" from Dig a Pony.

FIRST LYRIC... ITS LITERALLY 2 WORDS AND YET IT CONTINUES TO BLOW MY MIND. Something about the "Oh" ...... Its like an arrow passing through my heart I dont even know guys. Im not lying when I say it makes me feel like im floating. It makes me feel like i can quite literally grow wings and fling myself towards the sun. Dont even get me started on "All I want is you".......it literally triples the effect. It makes me go ballistic. The song is just mindless lyrics but the harmonieeesss.....

8. "Ah girlll.... *inhaeahelrlsseeesh* Girrll...." from Girl.

no words. Like. No words. I cant even. I seriously dont need to explain this one. Im just going to drop the isolated vocals version because if you havent listened to it you are MISSING OUT... you thought the originally recorded song was the greatest cause of your heart palpitations? Well you thought WRONG.

THIS IS.

9. "I love youwoowooowoowoooo...", "ask me WHYY..", "I can't believe.. Its happened to MEeee", "i cant concieve *doo doo doo do doo* of anymore *dun dun dun* MISERY" from Ask Me Why.

GOD OK LISTEN im just gonna say this now i absolutely adore and favor the please please me album so much i dont care what anyone says ok im such a sucker for their early sappy love songs ITS SO MANY GOOD HARMONIES ESPECIALLY FROM THIS ONE. MY GOD i listen to this and i feel like im with a lover late at night and we're like at one or the others house keeping each other warm and being all romantic and happy. Specifically the part that goes "ask me whyy I say i love you.. (OOOOHHHOOOO) and im always thinking of youuhoohohoo..." LIKE COME ON PLEAEE IT MAKES ME FEEL SO WARM INSIDE AND I SMILE IN AN INSTANT GOD I LOVE THIS SONG SO MUCH. Whenever i think im sad i go "no im not because Please Please Me." And its like all the sudden everything im sad about just poof disappears!

10. "If theres anything that you want.. IF THERES ANYTHING I CAN DOOOO" from From Me To You.

I am so in love with this song you guys i have no idea I LOVE IT SO MUCH. IT HAS THIS LITTLE SWING TO IT SPECIFICALLY BETWEEN THESE 2 LINES THAT MY BRAIN SEEKS FOR NEARLY EVERY DAY. the amount of blessing i get from this song is more than i can comprehend its literally insane i cant even. How does someone do this how did the beatles make music guys I am seriously so dumbfounded like they just sat there and wrote banger after banger like WHAT. this song makes me believe that life isnt as horrible as it seems and if im lucky enough i can just sing and dance to this song for all of eternity. There are also so many other good harmonies in this one as well...

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In conclusion the beatles have had a chokehold on me for 3 years but I mean their stupid groundbreaking songs keep drawing me back in so.... This has also made me come to the conclusion that the Beatles simply arent real because I still dont believe a band can not only write consistent hits, but also harmonize in a way that causes me to spin around while doing backflips.

Thank you for your time.