#i got the book of bill in the mail 2 days ago finally

[cryptidko]

FINE ILL READ THE GREAT fuckin' GATSBY

*opens pdf from the website.*

I swear if it has NO thematic relevance when compared to the book of bill I'm gonna implode.

[wlwmarvelenthusiast]

Can u write an au where carol’s cat (goose) keeps sneaking into fem!reader’s apartment and so carol and reader communicate with each other thru notes they put on goose’s collar and they eventually fall in love (((:::::::

Goose's Best Friend

Summary: After a stranger's cat injured in your apartment one night, you decide to attach a short note to its collar to give your apologies. They lead to something you could have never expected.

Pairing: Army Pilot!Carol Danvers x Reader

Warnings: language

Word Count: 2,792

It was the middle of the night, 2:57a.m., to be exact, when a loud crash shook you from the clutches of sleep. You sat up with a groan, rubbing your eyes to clear your vision enough to look at the clock on your nightstand. You swung your legs off the bed, eyes catching the shattered lamp on the ground. Fighting off the temptation to leave it on the ground for tomorrow, for fear that you might forget about it and slam your bare feet into the shards scattered around the floor, you slid your legs into some sweats and stood up.

You weren’t expecting, when you turned on the light, for something to move. When something darted around the corner you actually let out a high-pitched yelp, flying backwards and hitting your elbow hard off the corner of the nightstand. You felt tingling rush into the tips of your fingers as you tried desperately to comprehend what had just happened. Your breathing had already increased, and your heart was racing inside your chest. You took a hesitant step forward.

Despite being alone in the apartment, you flushed beet red in embarrassment when you found the creature you’d been so terrified of. The orange tabby cat stared up at you with wide eyes, letting out a quiet mew. Immediately your heart softened, its beat slowing down to a normal pace. When the cat made to step toward you, though, you immediately noticed the limp. Your eyebrows furrowed and you knelt down, letting it come to you. You reached out for its front leg, and it let you take it into your hand.

“Oh, sweet baby,” you muttered softly, wiping a bit of blood out of its fur with your thumb. “Come on. I think I have a first aid kit in the bathroom.”

It surely didn’t understand what you said, but it followed you when you stood up. It limped into the bathroom behind you, settling once it reached the tile floor. You reached into the cupboard under the sink and pulled out the red case, propping it up on the countertop and opening it up. Quickly, you located the roll of bandages and the scissors that came with it. You pulled it out and got some wet paper towels. Once more you knelt down on the ground next to the tabby.

A black collar around its neck caught your attention. You reached out for the silver tag that hung from it and spoke aloud. “Goose. Well, Goose, there’s no phone number here for your owner. Guess I’ll have to fix you up and trust you can find your own way home, huh?”

He meowed in response.

You continued to wrap up his leg. When you finally finished, you tucked the first aid kit away again. You clicked your tongue a couple times in an attempt to get him to follow you again. The both of you headed toward the kitchen, where you rummaged through the fridge for the leftover chicken from dinner the night before last. You pulled some out and set it in a small dish on the floor, a sort of apology for your lamp having done such damage to the poor animal’s leg. He helped himself quickly. Meanwhile, you dug through one of your drawers.

You popped the cap off a pen and cut a small strip of paper, struggling to keep your writing small enough to fit.

There was no number on the collar, so I opted for this. Goose found his way into my apartment and had an unfortunate mishap. I patched him up and gave him a treat. I hope that’s okay. He should be alright.

Hope he feels better soon.

You rolled the note around the tabby’s collar and taped it in place. He’d finished his treat by now, so you led him back to the apartment door. When you opened it, he cast one glance back at you, eyes shining as if in gratitude, then scurried down the hall. Just as he turned out of sight, though, someone else moved into your peripheral vision. You could have scoffed when you saw who had wandered into the hallway. She spoke before you could close the door.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“Fuck off, Danvers.”

“Captain Danvers,” she hummed, a wide smirk on her face as she twirled her keys around her finger.

“In your dreams,” you scoffed. “And next time you’re using your stripes to get random women in bed, be a little quieter, would you? Some of us around here have self-respect.”

You closed the door before she could respond to that.

You and Carol Danvers had hated each other for as long as you’d lived there. The two of you were like hot and cold, or night and day. She liked loud music and late nights whereas you liked a nice book and an early night. You were quiet and soft-spoken, and Carol was a bully. In fact, she was your bully. You’d never endured such teasing and taunting from anyone else before. It wasn’t her harsh words that got to you, though. In fact, you weren’t entirely sure what it was that got to you. Maybe it was her arrogance, or maybe it was her ignorance for anyone around her. It didn’t matter.

Carol Danvers brought out a side of yourself that you didn’t know existed. You’d only have to hear a single word fall from her lips or see a glimpse of her from the corner of your eye, and instantly any semblance of a good mood would dissipate and fade into annoyance. The hatred you held for her made your blood boil in your veins at the mere sight of her stupid, cocky smirk. You sometimes wished you could just reach out and slap that stupid smirk off her stupid face.

You pushed the blonde from your mind, heading back to bed. Hopefully, the coming day would be one that didn’t involve the blonde captain.

*

It was three days later that a quiet meow caught your attention. It tore your gaze from the TV, and you glanced toward the source of the sound. The face that was watching you immediately brought a smile to your face. You pat the couch beside you and the tabby jumped up, settling onto the blanket. You ran your hand across his head, watching his eyes close in content. You were about to turn your gaze back to the TV when you noticed the paper around his collar. It wasn’t the same one you put there. You reached out for it and removed it, careful not to rip it, and unrolled it. You flicked on the lamp.

Sorry about him. He wanders around the building. This isn’t the first time he’s gotten into someone’s room. If you fed him, he’ll probably come back to you (which I don’t mind, so long as you don’t mind that he’ll keep coming back). That’s how I know you’ll get this. So, thank you for patching him up. The vet would’ve cost more. You were right. He was just fine.

Rolled up with it was a twenty-dollar bill. You chuckled, immediately standing up off the couch. You pulled a small treat out of the fridge as you passed it, Goose trotting into the kitchen at the sight. You handed it to him and he took it happily, chowing down as you stood up straight again and continuing on your journey toward the notepad on the counter. Once again you ripped a small piece of paper out of it, ripping the cap of the pen off with your teeth and holding it there as you brought the pen down to meet the paper.

It seems so. You were right. He came back. He’s a sweet boy. I truly enjoy his visits. I don’t get many of them, so he’s welcome here whenever he pleases. And I don’t need this. Keep it.

You knelt down on the ground to Goose once again. He sat still for you as you wrapped the bill around his collar, wrapped the note around it, and then taped them both in place. Once more, you led him back to the apartment door, opened it up for him, and let him into the hallway. He rubbed his head against your calf once more before dashing out of sight. You shut the door behind him.

*

You huffed as you stormed into the lobby of the apartment building. Work had not treated you well that day. All you wanted was to head upstairs, put on your coziest pyjamas, order takeout, cuddle into the couch, and watch a movie or two. It was all you needed to wash away the horrible day and ease the stress that was weighing so heavily on your chest. You only wanted to pick up your mail before you did, but apparently, the universe had other ideas.

“Looking for some mail from your mommy?”

Danvers was the last person you wanted to deal with today. You didn't even bother to grumble a response to your neighbour, who was still in uniform as she stepped up beside you and unlocked her own mailbox. You were going to step away without a single word, but once more, you didn’t get your wish. Carol snickered at something, making you slam your box shut with far more force than necessary.

“What, pray tell, is so fucking funny?” You snapped.

“Oh, nothing. Nothing. Nice keychain.”

The keychain was a souvenir one you’d gotten from your trip to Disney with your family a few years ago. It was a picture of you and your brothers all wearing Mickey Mouse ears and sticking your tongues out at the camera. If anyone else had said the words, you would have blushed and thanked them. When Carol said the words, you shoved the keys in your pocket and shot a glare so harsh that it would have killed if it could have.

“You’re a dick, Danvers.”

“Captain Danvers,” she corrected once more.

“Look, this whole army pilot thing might work on those girls you pick up from god knows where, but I’ve met you,” you sneered. “You use this uniform for detestable things, Danvers. It’s disgusting.”

You stormed away.

When you unlocked your door and stepped into your apartment, however, you found that you wouldn’t need pyjamas or takeout or movies to make you feel better. Your new best friend was sitting on your couch as if he had been waiting for you to arrive home. You dropped your bag at the door and moved to sit with him immediately. After stroking his head absentmindedly for a bit, you noticed the new note.

Take it. Please? Come on, you’re going to make Goose sad if you don’t. You’re going to make me sad if you don’t.

Attached with the note, again, was that same twenty-dollar bill. You rolled your eyes as you moved into the kitchen once more, handing Goose a few of the cat treats you’d bought for him. He accepted them happily as, for the third time, you prepared to write a note for Goose’s mystery owner. You didn’t even bother to sit down, hunching over the counter in a way that your back probably wouldn’t have thanked you for. You scribbled on the paper.

I’m sure Goose won’t mind at all. As for you? Well, I don’t really know you, do I? Just keep the damn money, will you? You know, Goose is going to gain a few pounds if you keep sending him back here.

Sincerely, Goose’s new best friend

After a few pats to the head, you sent Goose off with that. He was back later that day.

Goose’s best friend,

Goose does mind. He wants you to keep it. Please? Besides, if we keep attaching it with scotch tape to a wandering cat, it’s going to get lost. You wouldn’t want that, now, would you? I sure wouldn’t. As for the treats, I’ll make sure to walk him a bit more. Wouldn’t want to lose my new favourite pen pal over a couple extra pounds on the cat.

- Goose’s mom

This time, there were two twenties attached. You chuckled at that. Goose was gobbling down his treat as you wrote.

Goose’s mom,

I think that’d be quite a sight to see, you walking Goose down the street. Guess if I ever see Goose leashed and with some random woman on the street, I’ll know what you look like.

- Goose’s best friend

P.S. Just donate the money. Seriously.

As if it were habit by now, you reattached the bills, added your note, and sent the tabby out the door once again. You headed back to what you’d been doing.

It wasn’t long before the next reply.

Goose’s best friend,

Here, I’ll help you build the image. I’m 23, blonde, and about 5’6”. I’m in the army, so I’d probably still be in uniform after work. Oh, and Goose’s leash is blue, and he has a grey harness for walking.

- Goose’s mom

P.S. I split the $40 between the humane society and the local shelter

You once more had to laugh at the stranger. Of course, you immediately moved to respond. As much as you didn’t want to kick Goose out, you wanted her to get your answer as soon as possible. You grabbed your notepad.

Goose’s mom,

You sound cute.

- Goose’s mom’s best friend

It was a short note this time. You were having fun, though, and you wanted to tease your new friend a little. You attached the note to Goose and let him run off.

Once more, Goose returned with a new reply.

Best friend,

You didn’t give me anything in response. I’m offended.

- Goose’s mom’s best friend’s best friend

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the way she’d signed her newest note. A pang of confidence hit your chest. You scribbled on the note.

Goose’s cute mom,

Let’s go for coffee then. 2B. I’m free when you are.

- Girl with a crush

*

You regretted sending that last note. You’d never gone more than 12 hours without communicating with the mystery note sender. You’d grown quite fond of the little pieces of communication you’d exchanged with her. It was actually the highlight of your day, on most days. Since sending that last one, though, you’d yet to hear back from her. It’d been four days now. You were quite upset about it, and decided the best way to fix that was some loud music. Maybe it’d piss Danvers off as much as she pissed you off.

When there was a loud knock on the door, you immediately assumed that you’d sure pissed someone off. Of course, they’d complain about you and not her. Everyone loved Carol fucking Danvers. You wished you could whirl the door open and shout at whoever was on the other side, but knew yourself better than that. You’d probably open it up and apologize, then turn the volume down and wallow in your misery to the sound of softer music.

That is, if it were anyone but Danvers.

“What? Just now realizing how damn annoying it is to hear loud music blaring from the apartment directly below yours?” You rolled your eyes. “Fuck off, Danvers.”

You went to slam the door, but she stuck her hand in. It must’ve been a little harsher than you meant to, because she shook her fingers out when she retracted them. You didn’t apologize, because you didn’t even feel bad. She deserved it after giving you two years of hell having to live in the apartment below her. You’d not have been surprised if one day she invited an elephant into her room just so she could make as much noise in your apartment as possible.

As you were about to make another snarky remark, though, you noticed something. That cocky glint that was usually shining in her brown eyes was missing. She wasn’t even meeting your eyes. Her gaze was cast to the door beside your head, locked to the bronze numbers that were screwed into it. You raised a single eyebrow, waving your hand in front of her face to get her attention. She blinked as if coming out of a trace, looking back to you.

“What do you want, Danvers?” You snapped when she wouldn’t speak.

She didn’t answer. She only held out a small piece of paper. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, but took it from her. The handwriting was one you’d seen so many times.

Goose’s best friend,

Coffee it is. But I’m paying. I still owe you.

- A girl who also has a crush, Carol Danvers

[live-the-fangirl-life]

Misplaced Mail - Part 1

Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn - Mini-Series

Aelin accidently opens a package addressed for Rowan. Not a big issue. Except that he opened a package addressed to her. Issue.

Fic Masterlist | Read on Ao3 | Part 2

Warnings: Language

1131 words

*******

One of the simple joys in life, Aelin decided, was getting an alert that a package you ordered finally arrived.

She’d just sat back down at her desk, after having taken a very short lunch because ‘that article better be in my inbox by the end of the day, Ms. Galathynius’ and she had a decent amount of editing that still needed to be done.

When her phone buzzed with a new email notification, she was sure it was another spam email but was pleasantly surprised to see it was the delivery alert for one of the orders she’d made earlier that week.

If hard-pressed, she wouldn’t be able to say what exactly she’d ordered—according to Elide, Aelin had a teensy, tiny, online shopping addiction—but whatever it was would surely be a bright spot in the stressful day she was having.

Deciding to act on the small burst of energy the alert had given her, Aelin opened the article she was writing and powered through for the rest of the afternoon.

***

Stepping into the lobby of her apartment building, Aelin quickly picked up her mail—ad, ad, bill, ad, and her package!

She took the elevator up to the fourth floor and walked down the hall towards her door. She wasn’t familiar with a lot of her neighbors, people mostly kept to themselves, but she did know the resident of the apartment directly across from hers.

Rowan Whitethorn. They’d had more than a few conversations. It was mostly bickering, but she could always sense that he enjoyed their banter almost as much as she did. He was also insanely attractive, and she couldn’t help but occasionally watch from her peephole when he went for runs in his very tight workout gear, or when he returned in his very tight, very sweaty, workout gear.

Aelin collapsed on her couch before pulling her box closer. Forgoing a knife, she managed to lift the tape and rip off the adhesive sealing the cardboard together. She didn’t recognize the logo on the box inside, but it wasn’t like she knew the manufacturers of all the products she orders.

With a small smile on her face, Aelin tossed the cardboard aside and opened the actual box.

Her excitement immediately morphed into confusion as she looked at what was sitting in her lap. A thousand questions raced through her mind.

“What the fuck is this?”

“Why would I order this?”

“Did I drunk-buy again?”

“Seriously, what is this?”

Aelin stared at the strange object for another long moment before her brain clicked. It was a piece of some kind of weird exercise equipment.

Her eyes flew wide as she scrambled for the cardboard box it came in. She flipped it over, eyes scanning the label, and then she cringed.

It wasn’t addressed to her.

It was addressed to a Mr. Rowan Whitethorn.

Shit. Oops.

Brows furrowing, Aelin reached for her phone and found the email confirming the delivery of her package. Right there, the confirmation.

She winced. If she had Rowan’s package, that meant that he most likely had hers.

A knock on her door interrupted her thoughts and she rose from her perch on the couch to open the door.

Standing in her doorway was Rowan.

“Uh, I think I—I mean, I accidently—Uh, this is yours.” He thrust a box into her arms so quickly it was as if it burned him to hold it.

Aelin didn’t think she’d ever seen him look so flustered. His face was a bright red, he was stuttering over his words, and he wouldn’t meet her eye as she adjusted the box to get a better grip.

She just raised an eyebrow at him and slowly said, “Thank you. Yeah, there must have been a mix-up because I grabbed one of yours.”

Aelin placed the box in her hands on the counter as she walked to the couch to get Rowan’s package. When she turned back to him, she caught his eyes quickly dart away from her face. Weird. Normally he was cool and composed, but right now he looked like he wanted to bolt.

“I don’t even know what this is.” She gave him his rightful box and he mumbled a thanks before turning to leave.

She leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms, and watching perplexed as Rowan fumbled for his key to unlock his door.

“Okay, Whitethorn, what’s got you so jumpy?” Maybe she was a little too amused by his obvious discomfort at whatever she’d ordered.

He whipped around, dropping his key to the floor, and cursed before reaching to pick it back up.

“Nothing. Hm? I’m good. Its nothing.”

She snorted. “It’s obviously something. Gods, I can’t even remember what I bought,” she turned to grab the box on her counter, Rowan still trying to unlock his door, and lifted the lid to see inside.

She choked on air.

Now she remembered what she ordered.

It was three nights ago when Lysandra and Elide came over for girl’s night. They all had a little too much wine and binged watched rom-coms all night. Aelin remembered pieces of a conversation about her so-called dry spell, honestly, Lysandra, three months isn’t that long.

At some point, the three of them found a particular website that specialized in devices to aid in those dry spells. And apparently Aelin had placed an order.

Gods, she needed to get better at hiding her credit card from herself when she knew she’d be drinking. Not like it would do much good, she thought, she’d had those numbers memorized for years.

The sound of Rowan door finally opening made her look up, and it was then she had the full realization:

Rowan, her neighbor, her extremely hot neighbor that she had a not-so-secret crush on, opened her very realistically-shaped, bright pink, vibrator.

If only the universe could open a hole at her feet so she could disappear.

The only reason she could keep her voice steady was because Rowan seemed far more embarrassed than she was. Besides, she was an adult woman, why shouldn’t she own a vibrator…or four.

“Ah, thanks, I uh, wouldn’t want to lose this.” She cringed, why did she have to make this so awkward. More awkward.

Rowan didn’t say anything, but she saw his face get even redder. The tops of his ear were now a bright pink.

In a split-second decision, Aelin decided to throw caution to the wind and say, ‘Fuck it’. She drew up all her bravado and smirked at him as he turned and caught her eye.

“You know,” she winked, “maybe you could help me out sometime and I wouldn’t need this.”

Grinning at his slack-jawed, wide-eyed, stunned face, she turned on her heel and shut her door.

****

Taglist:

@acourtofsnakes @allthebooksunderthemoon @astra-ad-mare @becarefuloflove @bisexual-genderfluid-loki @booklover41802 @charlizeed @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @danibutterr @doubt-less @emily-gsh @enormousbooklover @foughtconquered @fromthelibraryofemilyj @hakunamatatazz @i-have-but-one-brain-cell @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jorjy-jo @lemonade-coolattas @mariamuses @mayhemories @midsizewitch @miserablesmusings @morganofthewildfire @nehemikkele @rowaelinismyotp @rowansfirebringer @sayosdreams @sheharahu @sleeping-and-books @stardelia @story-scribbler @superspiritfestival @surielandiareendgame @swankii-art-teacher @tomtenadia @westofmoon @whimsicallyreading @ladygabrielli1997 @moodymelanist @realbookloverproblems @gracie-rosee @julemmaes @yesdreamblog

[desiredmalfoy]

True Love Is Eternal (D.M x Reader + F.W. x Reader)

Pairing: Draco x Reader, Fred Weasley x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Note this is going to be changing from 1st person to 2nd and 3rd person.

Enjoy the final installment of the Dear Malfoy Series! Fred’s POV! Thank you for everyone who has shown love to my writing! You don’t know how much I appreciate it (it means a lot to me). 

Dear Malfoy [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]  (Masterlist)

The invitation to your wedding invitation came suddenly in the mail. It came addressed to the Weasley family, which I guess includes me. No, it did include me. You put that in the invitation. I didn’t even realize that I was holding in my breath as I opened up the intricate wedding invitation. The Malfoys are not sparing any expense on this. He would give you nothing but the best in life. He had been fine for the past couple of years, he had managed to get you out of his head for the longest time. He had even been in a serious relationship but that did work out. But it seems like the news of your wedding brought all these feelings back. Maybe all these old feelings resurfacing because of the news of your marriage but not because he actually still loved her. Or maybe in the back of his mind, he’d always wish you would have a moment of revelation where you realized who truly loved him.

                                 We are honored to invite you to

                                       the unity of marriage of

                                         Draco Lucius Malfoy 

                                                       &

                                        (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N)

Your name is written in beautiful intricate gold cursive. Taunting me with every letter written. He ran his fingers over where your name was printed, reminiscing of the moments he had with you.

It was the middle of summer and the both of you were laying on the grass outside the burrow. You were looking up at the night sky admiring the millions of stars. Moments like these were the ones he hoped were forever.

“What do you want to do when we leave this place”,  Fred had asked her out of nowhere. 

“Get my own place. I love my parents but I want to have my own space.” 

“Oh! And get a kitten!” (Y/N) excitedly added. “I really want to get a kitten.”

“I’ll get you as many as you would like”, he said as he hugged her tightly.

“Is this your way of asking me to move in with you”, she teased him and his cheeks had become red from blushing. 

“Not yet but one day in the future hopefully.” He answered as he envisioned them with a few cats and maybe a baby or two. “And you know I’ll have my shop by then too.”

He wished he could go to the past. 

——-

Fred dwelled on the thought of going to your wedding. The invitation had been extended to the entire family, including him. After everything that had occurred, (y/n) had always been on good terms with the rest of the Weasley family. She had even eventually forgiven George for not telling her. George had explained to him that she forgave him to let go of the past and move on. 

Fred had thought he would keep on seeing you every summer as the previous ones before. You had always come to stay at least for a couple of days to see Ron and Ginny before you dated him. But the summer after his 7th year and (y/n)’s 5th it all changed. He anticipated your arrival but didn’t want to ask any of his siblings if they knew you’d be coming over. He stupidly thought that he would be able to at least fix your friendship that summer. It wasn’t until he had overheard a conversation between Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and Harry that he knew you weren’t going to show up.

“I received an owl from her today.”, Ginny said excitedly as she sat down, a white envelope in her hand. 

“How is she? I miss her greatly this summer.” Hermione asked as she reached for that same envelope from Ginny. 

“She said she’s definitely enjoying Paris with Draco.”

“He took her to Paris”, Ron asked, shocked at the revelation. “The bloke has only been dating her for like eight months and he’s already taking her on expensive trips?’

“It’s Malfoy. Did you expect anything less”, Harry answered with a slight eye roll. “He’d buy her a castle if she would just let him.”

“I knew Malfoy always goes all out but I didn’t think he would take her on vacation so soon!”

“What do you expect?” Ginny laughed at Ron’s still confused expression. “He’s madly in love with her. He’s even nice to Harry of all people just for her.”

“That was the most surprising thing of all”, Hermione agreed with her with a giggle. “Who knew all it took to stop Malfoy from being such a prat was for (y/n) to date him.”

“I mean he even called Harry by his first name the last time we saw him instead of Potter”, Ron added to the conversation. 

“I still miss her this summer”, Ginny complained with a groan. “It’s not the same without her.”

That was the beginning of you spending every summer with Draco instead of at the Burrow with the Weasley’s like every other summer. 

———

He was walking along Hogsmeade after a long day of work. He was headed towards the Three Broomsticks to meet up with George who had taken a few days off from the shop that day. He hadn’t been feeling well the past few days and Fred had told him to stay home. He was finally feeling better and to celebrate, George had asked him to meet there for a couple of drinks. It was a pretty calm evening with a few people walking about the area. Fred mostly went unnoticed by others just trying to get home for the night. 

That’s when he saw you coming out of the dress store with your mother and Narcissa Malfoy by your side. (Y/N) had a huge grin on her face as she carried a large white box with a beautiful ribbon to tie it all up. It was your wedding dress. He just knew it was that. A large smile decorated your face as you seemed ecstatic about the contents of the box. He turned quickly into a different alleyway to avoid running into you. 

He was going to be needing something stronger than butterbeer tonight. 

——-

Fred and George were currently on their way to their parent’s home to visit them for the evening. Life had been hectic and he hadn’t had a chance to see them in a couple of days. Plus it was one night where he would not have to cook for himself and George. Nothing beats a home-cooked meal from your mum on days like these. 

They didn’t even bother knocking as they entered the home. 

“Mum your favorites have arrived”, Fred announced loudly teasingly as he saw Ron sitting on the couch. 

“I didn’t know Charlie and Bill were dropping by”, Ron said without lifting his gaze from the book on his lap.

“That hurts Ronnie”, George played around as he wiped a fake tear from his cheek.

“Anyway, where is mum?”

“They’re upstairs trying on the bridesmaid dressed for the future Mrs. Malfoy’s wedding”, Ron said with a snicker. “Mione and Ginny I mean.”

“I still can’t believe that it’s coming up so soon”, Fred responded as he sat next down to his brother. 

“I am just excited about the food”, George said with a laugh. “I know it will be good.”

“Nice to know you care about me”, a teasing voice said from the stairs. Fred knew that voice and giggle anywhere. They all turned to where the voice was coming from.

“You know what I mean”, George said with a smile. He got up and greeted (y/n) with a hug. “It’s nice to see you again.”

He caught a glimpse of your engagement ring shining in light. Only the best for you.

“I’ve been busy”, she answered simply. “Weddings are a big thing to plan. Especially one that is only a about a two weeks away”

“How the joke shop?” (Y/N) questioned George. “Ginny has told me it’s been going amazingly for you two.”

“Right it has been”, George agreed. “Those Hogwarts kids are great customers. Right, Freddie?”

“Way to make us seem old Georgie”, Fred laughed as he looked directly at her. “It’s nice to see you (y/n).”

“Nice to see you too Fred”, she said, giving him a friendly smile. Not the same one she would give him years ago. 

“Are you staying for dinner darling”, mum said as she came down the stairs with Ginny and Hermione trailing just behind. 

“I’m sorry Mrs. Weasley”, (y/n) apologized. “I would love to but I had promised my parents I’d be eating with them tonight. Plus I still have to get home and see if Draco is back from work.”

You’d made a home with him already. One that he had promised you all those years ago.

“Don’t worry darling.” Mum said with a gentle smile. “You’re invited to dinner whenever you would like.”

“Thank you so much.” (Y/N) said as she hugged mum goodbye. She waved to everyone else and she was gone out the door. 

———

The day of the wedding finally came and he had decided to go. He wanted an opportunity to see you dressed in white. Fred walked over with his family to the Malfoy Manor. They’re escorted to the garden in the back to wait for the beginning of the ceremony. It was decorated with your favorite flowers, white roses. Flowers that symbolized innocence, youthfulness, eternal loyalty. 

The eternal loyalty you were about to pledge to Malfoy for the rest of your lives. 

Fred anxiously waited for the ceremony to start. He looked around the space and saw many of his former classmates interacting with each other. It wasn’t long before the ceremony started. 

Draco enters….

Your wedding party enters….

Everyone stands for your entrance….

The wedding march starts….

You walk down the aisle hand in hand with your father. You looked stunning in your wedding dress. Darling how I wish I was the one watching you walk towards me. You don’t spare a glance to where I’m standing. I’m probably the farthest thing from your mind. And I’m glad you don’t because I don’t think my heart would take it. He watches on a Malfoy cries at the sight of you walking towards him. Fred knew if he was in his place he’d probably do the same.

Because even though all I want to do is run up to that alter and tell you exactly how I feel, I simply won’t. I've seen how happy you are with him, and I can't ever do that to you. Even though I sit here to watch you wed another man and break my heart in the process. 

Why am I even here? Why did I even come? 

He watches as you pledge your love for Draco. Vowing to stay with him every moment of your lives together. He watched as you said “I do” through your tears. 

You make such a lovely bride. Maybe in another lifetime or reality, you’re mine. But in this one darling, we just weren’t meant to be. 

Maybe in another lifetime, I’ll be able to hold you close and never let go. In this one, I foolishly took you for granted and let you slip from my arms into the firm grasp of another man. 

I knew I shouldn’t have come, but I couldn’t resist seeing you in white. 

Because sometimes two souls are only meant to just be in each other’s life for a while; awaiting the lifetime where they’ll meet again but this time forever. 

Alternative Ending:

Fred stood alone in his shop tonight. Wanting to throw himself into work to ignore the pain in his chest. He took another swing of the bottle of fire whisky in an attempt to drown out all the intrusive thoughts running through his mind. He spent the evening thinking about how he wished it was him marrying you, waiting at the end of the aisle. You’d be getting married next week and he couldn’t do anything about it. He knew he messed up all those years ago, and he’d do anything to turn back time. 

He heard the door chime as someone opened the door. He must have forgotten to lock up in his current state. 

“We’re closed”, he yelled out towards the door. He didn’t bother to lift his head to talk to them. Not wanting to be seen in this state. 

“Freddie?”

This caused an instant reaction from him. He’d know that voice anywhere.

“(Y/N/N)”, he whispered. He was afraid you’d disappear at any moment. A hallucination.

“I missed you. I need you.”

“I missed you too.”

I know it’s not the best alternative ending but I kind of left it open for the reader to decide. It is a little something for those who would choose Fred instead. Do they realize they actually loved Fred after all this time? Is Fred just losing it and imagining this? It’s up to you to decide!

Click here for Valentine’s Day Shipping

Taglist: @keepsmilingandstayhappy @sarcasticallywitty15 @adrianpuceyishot @dracoismybabey @little-me204 @loveforreading @stephaniewinchester-weasley @cronen 

Reminder: None of my work can be reposted anywhere. It doesn’t matter if you give credit, please do not repost!

[helenazbmrskai]

Not Alone

Title Not Alone

Pairing Yoongi x OC

Summary University is kicking your ass so you always make sure to dedicate a day for yourself and take time to pamper your body and soul. However, you’re cautious around Yoongi your roommate and double-check the d-day to prevent accidents. You're not a fan of revealing any skin because of your insecurities but it’s just happening to be the day when you are - not so alone.

Genre university au, roommate au, romance and fluff, smut

Warning(s) smut (body worshipping, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, messy sex, first time, virgin reader, dirty talk, vanilla sex, yoongi has a virgin kink but not explicitly mentioned) implication of insecure reader, shy and curvy reader

Word count: 9k

Masterlist

This universe is related to my other fic I wrote recently ’one time boy space friend’ you can read that one here.

Washing the excess shaving cream off of my hand I grab my phone I previously placed on the toilet’s folded lid lightly humming the outline of the song currently playing. The new playlist Yoongi recommended is full of bangers as always I have no doubt his fate was eventually to end up as a music major. I take a glance at my reflection when I was able to secure the new position for my phone on the laundry basket with the top slightly open reminding me that I need to do laundry if I want to have clothes to wear.

I take a glance at my reflection removing the fog that made the lines of my face blurry with a towel hanging next to the sink on a hook realising later that I used Yoongi’s looking back at the sheepish smile that greets me in the mirror I placed the fabric back hoping that Yoongi won’t mind.

An unknown rap song’s first beats suddenly interrupted by an incoming call that the familiar piano version of my favourite song signalled. I smile seeing the callers ID, placing the toner back to its dust-filled spot next to Yoongi’s shaving cream I make sure to use the right towel this time to dry my hands with before swiping right on the call.

”Hey, What’s the matter?” I answer it with a huge grin plastered on my face making my cheeks ride up into a chipmunk-like smile.

Our class was cancelled at the last minute so I wasn’t expecting a call from her she told me while we were waiting for the instructor to arrive that she has plans with his boyfriend Jimin. Only having calculus that day after an exchanged heated curses for our lazy professor for not e-mailing about the reschedule I happily took a sweet nap and made an easy breakfast I normally don’t have time to consume or even make in the morning I was able to get my relaxing time to start earlier so it meant more time for me since Yoongi supposedly took the afternoon shift.

This piece of information I remembered while chewing on my sandwich as I thanked the gods that I overheard his conversation about the shift change last night when I went to get my late-night snack but seeing the date expired on the comfort food I had to engage in a yoghurt instead.

”Y/N. Are you home?” She asked matching my good mood in the background I heard clinking noises of a pan she must be cooking. I insert my head through the large black t-shirt’s hole as I started to freeze standing here only in my undergarments the effect of the hot shower faded leaving me in the significantly colder bathroom.

”Of course. I started my pamper routine. I cannot tell you how good it feels to be hairless. If only my hair would grow this fast.” She chuckles hearing my banter the faint sounds of crepitation usually the hot oil makes overpowering her giggle for a few seconds. I remember the sandwich I ate this morning around ten-ish that did not prove to be enough. I get sidetracked with what should I make for lunch.

”Oh, so Yoongi is working?” Knowing about my only one rule regarding this d-day I like to call it is that no man should be around when I’m wearing this revealing clothing. He only saw me wearing jeans and yoga pants before these jelly-like legs cannot make a debut in front of eyes outside of mine.

”Yep.” I confirm. I take a look at the time I still have lots of time to relax before I should start that assignment I postponed.

I have everything planned out since Yoongi usually comes home from work in a grumpy state he likes to shower first and then he retreats into his room to do his assignments and sometimes he writes a song or the song even could be the assignment itself I honestly don’t know how’s everyday life as a music major. Yoongi is not exactly the talkative type.

My silent activity is helping his concentration and the best thing is that I have the apartment by myself to do what I please and leave the comfort of my room wearing what I please without worrying.

The best would be if I could rent out my own apartment but I know I wouldn’t be able to pay it by myself and the fact that Yoongi and I share the expenses of the bill makes things so much more easier.

”Why did you call though? I’m sure it’s not because you already miss me.” Tired of holding the phone up I place it back where it was before leaving the call on speakers so I can rub the cocoa scented lotion into the skin on my legs.

”Right. I almost forgot. Jin taught you that Mexican dish that I don’t know how to pronounce its name, right?” Her voice fades a little mid-sentence probably changed ears hearing the cooking noises seeping through the background she seemed very busy.

”What about it?” I question closing the lid of the lotion after I rub the remaining cream on my hand onto my neck so nothing goes to waste.

”I need the recipe.” She demands. I laugh how desperate she sounds through the phone. I make my way out of the bathroom I need my notebook since I didn’t memorise the dish I only made it once and as it was previously stated with the help of Jin.

”Hold on I don’t remember where I left the notes.” I arrive at the kitchen area placing the phone on the counter I begin rummaging through the drawers bending down to peek at the content of each. Spoons and forks. The second one where Yoongi placed the aprons and towels my notebook must be in the last one. ”So, what are the plans for today?” I ask while still searching for the black shiny cover of my notebook.

”Well, I wanted to cook something Italian since Jimin told me once he wanted to try it out but a crucial ingredient is missing so I thought about making that one you told me about a few weeks ago at Jin’s birthday party. After I’m finally done with this shit I’m going to sneak into his room to give him the blowjob of his life while he’s playing some shit games boys do and tell him lunch is ready.” The huge breath she took before starting the word vomiting makes me praise her lung capacity.

Finally. The book was under the aprons what a hassle. I straighten up turning the pages when I hear the front door opening and shut soon after. I turn to see the face of the intruder as I’m still standing in the middle of the kitchen with my hair evidently wet from the shower I took earlier only in my panties and a huge ass shirt to cover myself with.

Yoongi drops his coffee-stained shirt by the foot of the couch the angle is letting me see the living room area without a problem but he can’t clearly see the kitchen from there but my relief is not long-lasting as my friend decides to choose that moment to speak drawing Yoongi’s attention to where I’m standing.

”Y/N are you still there? Shit. I burnt my finger.” Grabbing the phone off the counter I switch off the speaker option and push the device against my ear.

”Yeah, um, I’ll send you the recipe via message. Good luck. Bye.” I aggressively push the red phone button at the bottom left side of the screen until the call ends. Hearing my voice Yoongi walks through the door separating the living room and the kitchen to halt his steps when he takes the image in.

It’s not one of those best times to ponder over how good looking he’s after finishing work and how he always smells like freshly brewed coffee which is not a surprise knowing the fact that he works at a coffee shop near our rented place.

He doesn’t wear the shirt uniform it must be the one he got rid of because of the stains today he wears a simple white t-shirt with washed-out blue jeans. Focusing on his face again I see that his eyes no longer studying my face instead his gaze dipped lower and I swear he's not so subtle about ogling at my exposed legs. My legs!

”You’re … early.” I talk first considering my options. A, I can still make a run for it but the damage is already done. He saw me. Or B, I can try to make small talk pretending that nothing is embarrassing at all just to later enter my room and dig a hole with all of my self-pity and scream into my pillow.

”Um, there was a shift change but I finished 2 hours early in return.” He explains this time his gaze was on my face the entire time no more strayed glimpses. Fuck. I should have paid attention to the whole conversation. ”Don’t you .. have class normally this time around?” He trails off a faint trace of blush appears on his porcelain skin. I use the notebook to hide my panty line that peeks out of the shirt.

”Class cancelled.” I’m horrified how my voice sounds so high pitched the embarrassment paints my cheeks bright red. ”Um, I have something to do in my room so I’ll be there.” I use the lame excuse to escape from Yoongi when I close the door behind me I close my eyes as well because of the extreme humiliation I had to go through.

My phone buzzes in hand I suddenly remember the recipe I promised. I write a quick message to her attaching the picture of the ingredients and notes to help her with the preparations. Now since I’m done with the responsibilities I can swim in my tears for the time being.

I can’t believe after months of caution fate decided to take away from me the deserved me time days. Yoongi is probably weirded out by me too I don’t know how to look him in the eye from now on and it’s a serious problem. For lords heaven, we live together! There’s no way I can avoid him without being obvious about it.

I mean maybe I’m just overreacting. It’s Yoongi we are talking about. He most of the time doesn’t give a flying fuck about anything he certainly won’t mention it and for obvious reasons I won’t either so I can just leave things like that. Just acting as usual like he didn’t saw my legs and my black underwear not to mention he is the very first one to see it I mean outside of my family of course. He’s a boy. No. A man. And he saw me underdressed like that.

It’s okay Y/N, let’s see the bright side at least he saw me when I was shaved. Well, that doesn’t help. Not at all.

”Shit. I’m hungry.”

I waited an hour and forty minutes to be exact despite the rumble of my stomach I sat down to start the book one of my friends lent me to read and I’m over a quarter of the pages when I decided enough is enough.

I waited long enough so he must be cooped up in his room slash studio for the rest of the day. But to be extra cautious I peeked out before fully leaving the safety of my room. I stop once I step into the corridor listening for any noises that might indicate Yoongi has indeed occupied his nest the soft sounds of the synthesizer helps me to relax I leisurely make my way then in the direction of the kitchen.

As I flip the switch the room is enveloped in light. My favourite mug is sitting on top of the counter even though I don’t remember leaving it there. I walk to take a closer look the mug is filled with coffee it’s in a light brown colour so it must a latte. It smells like latte indeed.

My favourite drink. There’s a note glued to the bottom of the mug it’s a messy handwriting and I don’t have to guess to know to whom this belongs to. How did he know my favourite coffee order?

”Sorry for startling you earlier. - myg”

The simple worded note even had his initials at the end. Realising that I never tried out his coffee made me curious about the taste. He works as a barista so It cannot be bad. I’m always late for class so I never had the chance before going into the shop when he’s on duty and order a drink from him.

Most of the time I’m saving on it and just use the shared coffee machine. Don’t blame me I’m just a broke university student.

But if I drink this I won’t be able to sleep it’s pretty late. Fuck it. I’m going to drink it. Not that the unholy time for coffee consumption deterred me before and picked up on some of Yoongi’s personal characteristics I think I can confidently say he doesn’t care either.

I bite into my lip while carefully straightening the lines out on the sticky note. After I was convinced the note won’t come off of his door I leave to go to bed.

”Thanks for the coffee. I liked it. – Y/N.”

***

”Can you guys stop shovelling food into your mouths for a millisecond. I’m serious!” Hitting the table for further emphasis.

Rori and F/N digging through a pile of food before our morning class is something I got used to first as I befriended them and it doesn’t bother me any other time but I wanted some serious advice for once and they don’t even stop digging to say well that’s was awkward. Or shit that sucks.

Not that I don’t know that without them telling me. I appreciated the note and the subtle apology he didn’t phrase it like hey dummy I’m sorry for seeing your sausage legs my bad. Also, it would be unlikely, too wordy for him he’s tight-lipped even in messages. I don’t remember he ever told me like a two full sentence in one go.

”Serious for what Y/N? He saw your underwear and legs. Tell us if you display your boobs or something. Now, I would be interested.” Rolling my eyes at the sarcastic remark I steal one of her favourite apple pie sticks for good measures.

”Hey! I was going to eat that.” She pouts but I take another big bite out of it. It’s too sweet for my liking but everything for the even sweeter revenge. If there’s one thing I learned about these two throughout the years of knowing them is that they take their food very seriously. ”Look. We love you, that’s why I’m going to tell you this. It’s not a big deal.” She pats my cheek before picking up her fork again.

”So what happened F/N. Did you gave Jimin the blowjob of his life?” I used a quote mark at the end of the sentence just how she phrased it yesterday. Rori is more interested in that, of course, there’s nothing more important than sex.

”Let me say the food was cold once we were finished.” She chuckled bashfully. Do I have the right set of friends? Maybe I should be pickier about who I call as a friend.

”So he’s big?” Rori asked with a smirk and I almost spitted out the diet coke onto the dining table. We are in a fucking coffee shop for god damn good. Thankfully not the one Yoongi works for but I think he has morning class so he won’t be working either way.

”Please don’t go into details.” I plea and Rori presents me with a devilish grin while picking the chicken breasts out of my salad.

”It’s fine Y/N. I was a virgin too before Jimin. Your time will come, not that it’s a choice.” F/N tries to console me.

”It’s a choice just not mine.” I murmur it under my nose stabbing my salad with the fork before chewing on it without the meat it’s quite sour.

”Yeah. It’s because you and F/N are both have big sticks up your asses.” Used to her blunt remarks I’m not even hurt or surprised for that matter. The busy cafe drowns out the voices of their inappropriate talk at least.

”It’s not our fault that you fuck every man with a pulse.” F/N retorts back with a giggle satisfied with the remark we exchange high fives.

”How do you know it’s a requirement?” Rori lifts one of her brows making us do gagging motions.

”Ugh, That’s disgusting.” I abandon the food on my plate that was a bit too much and we are in the middle of breakfast.

”A person cannot even joke here? I wasn’t serious. Duh.” I should really search for those new friends.

”That’s something I can believe.” The insult wasn’t even spoken out too loud but she heard me all the same and it earned a kick under the table from Rori with his high heels, I returned the glare she sent my way.

***

”Oh, hi.” I step aside to let Yoongi enter, he furrows his brows in concentration if I wasn’t running late I would ponder over the fact how he measures my body by centimetres. I fidget with my earrings but without a mirror, it’s a difficult task to carry out.

”I thought we’re going to meet with the guys at 8.” Realising the motive behind his stare I nod furiously.

”Yeah. But Rori accepted that guy’s offer to taste wines and she’s afraid she’s going to be abducted so me and F/N will accompany her.” I tell him and he doesn’t seem pleased I wasn’t either at first but I hope he won’t do anything with three girls there.

”Be careful. Anyone else knows about this?” He asks with evident worry lacing his voice he steps closer helping to finally get that chape snap into place.

”Jimin knows and I think Jungkook knows too.” Once he’s done he restores the distance between the two of us. ”Also you know F/N she’s apt to be violent.” Yoongi nods.

”Fuck. I’m late.” I swear as I look at the time. With hurried steps, I pick up my boots and size up my keys ready to leave.

”See you later.” Hearing his voice calling out to me I look back smiling a little managing to whisper back a ’see you later’ of my own. I think this was the longest conversation I held with him so far, what a shame I couldn’t stay to talk more.

The wine tasting went better than I expected. That guy is filthy rich he gave us a little tour around the house before letting us each pick out 5 wines of our liking. We learned that he’s a sports major he’s a swimmer and he told us stories about his practises with the swimming team and talked awfully long about his wins and trophies. To be honest he seemed like a bit eccentric and pompous for me but Rori liked him.

We were late because our taxi on its way to the bar got into a little traffic jam. I got a text from Yoongi at the same time F/N got one from Jimin they were curious about where we are and how we are. We wrote back a short text that we’re almost there.

”So? Whose’s the guy?” Jin asked once we are seated down. F/N took her place next to Jimin and Rori beside her leaving me with the only option of sitting down next to Yoongi at the other side of the table.

Once I’m comfortably seated I look around the table I catch in the corner of my eye Namjoon and Jungkook taking shots. Yoongi grabs his alcoholic beverage before him from the table our shoulders brush against each other due to the motion. I bite the inside of my cheeks don’t want to fidget in place.  

”He’s a sports major.” Rori told Jin she told him about our little tour but she conveniently left out the offer about a threesome that I politely declined.

”Oh Y/N you remember that guy who wanted to get your phone number?” Scrunching my nose as the scene flashed before my eyes, of course, I remember. That was one of my most awkward moments and believe me when I say there’s a lot of option to choose from on my list and it’s still the worst. As far as I know, that guy was a sports major too and he was very persistent.

”Yes, what about him?” I nod. I try to shoo the pictures out of head but a forming blush creeping up my neck quicker than I realise.

”Well he’s here. And he’s coming this way.” F/N tells without looking my way her eyes trained behind my form probably to report back his every move. I physically have to hold myself back from whimpering and its not the good kind.

”Shit.” I bite my lower lip don’t want to make things more obvious I don’t turn around to confirm it.

”Oh. I remember. You gave him Rori’s number, don’t you?” Jungkook, you traitor. He was with me when it happened I was flustered enough that he asked Jungkook is my boyfriend or not that I didn’t want to expand my suffering so I gave him my friend's number. She told me if someone I don’t want tries to get into my pants and bothers me I can use her number as a bait knowing her even though my pants were not on the line I still did that. Well, she did more than that after.

”Then what’s the problem?” Jin asks so invested in our conversation that I want to smack him on the neck.

”I was sexting with him and we fucked.” She shrugs. That was what I tried to say. I really don’t want to face that guy.

I stand up with so much vehemency that I almost knock down a glass from the table it’s Yoongi’s empty glass at the bottom of it there’s a thin line of whiskey left. Yoongi grabs my thighs to stabilise me. Looking over his shoulder I saw that said guy indeed walking into this direction.

”Uh, please dance with me?” I grab Yoongi’s hand surprising him for a moment or two but lets me pull him up.

”You have a habit of running away, huh?” I look back to get a grip at the situation. I led Yoongi into the dance floor even though I don’t even know how to dance. He sees the panic settling in my face so he starts guiding me with his hand flat against my lower back. There’s a lot of bodies to avoid so Yoongi is extremely close.

”I don’t like confrontation.” I subtly hide behind his broad shoulders I can see it on him how he tries to stop himself from laughing. I like the sound of his laugh.

”I’m aware.” He purrs into my ear pulling me closer by a hand wrapped around my waist the sweet scent of his cologne hits me like a tone of bricks. I’m painfully aware how his body touches mine my breast pushed against his flat ribcage I can feel him inhaling and exhaling the used oxygen.

”Y-your hand Yoongi.” His hand is dangerously low on my back I’m sure he feels the curve of my ass under his fingers. The bar is dimly lit so my blush remains subtle in a certain extent seeing me blush so many times I wouldn’t be surprised if he would recognise it before it fully blooms on my face.

”What about it?” He clearly wants me to say it but there’s no way I’m going to bluntly say that his hand touches my ass. Rather die.

”What are you doing? Are you drunk?” I defensively ask answering the question with my own questions. He openly finds my antics amusing because this time he laughs. That gummy smile makes my knees weak for him he strengthens his hold on my waist like he knows it.

”My car is here. I’m as sober as I can be.” The hand I placed on his chest when he suddenly pulled me closer itched. He’s touching me and he’s sober. Heaving a sigh he replaces them around his neck I can’t relish in the feeling as his hand on my ass beyond doubt gone since he places it back soon after even lower. The grin he shows me makes me want to give him my fist instead of my virginity.

”Then why are you touching me?” My confidence wavered significantly as he lowered his head his lips closer than ever but instead of kissing me, he blows air into my ear riling me up with the gesture.

”This makes you uncomfortable?” I wanted to say yes, but the full truth would be it’s undeniably uncomfortable and exciting it makes my blood boil under my skin and it scares me how much I want him to touch me tossing aside my insecurities just to feel him like this. At least he knows his boundaries. I don’t know what would I do if his hand suddenly moved.

”No. I’m just embarrassed.” I nervously twist a hair at the nape of his neck didn’t realise the act just when I did it.

”You ran away because you were embarrassed yesterday too?” I stop toying with his hair once the words register in my head. Is he talking about the kitchen incident? And here I thought that there’s nothing more that could make the situation more awkward.

”Y-yes.” The confidence I felt before left me I shy away from his eyes the way he sized me up that day still vivid in my head.

”Why?” A perfect arch of his eyebrows indicating that he wants his answer this time and I am about to give him.

”Because you were staring at me.” I tell him oh so matter of factly. He practically beams at the offered answer the glint in his eyes telling me that’s the answer he seeks in the first place and he has his own set of words in return.

”Wanna know what I thought about while staring at you?” His eyes pinning me to my spot I wouldn’t dare to move away even if I wanted to he seemed determined to get under my skin and maybe under my clothes too.

”No.” I challenge drunk by the boldness maybe the gin tonic I consumed earlier and the wines finally appearing be to be the liquid courage I needed. Reading between the lines Yoongi tells me despite the answer.

”I imagined how you would look like wearing my shirt. It would cover you below your knees since you are tiny. Tell me you’re wearing one of those black panties I saw before?” I don’t answer but I let him pat my knee I can feel his warm palm under the fabric of my jeans he continues with more words even bolder than the first.

”I imagined how you would look like under me on my bed wrapping those long legs around my waist.” Affected by his words I mirror his hungry expression. He’s normally not a man of so many words and hearing him talk this much makes me feel special that he’s talking to me because he feels the need to let me know what’s plaguing his mind. I entertain the idea that maybe he wasn’t sure how to convey the message since I’m so shy he didn’t have a lot of opportunity cornering me before the kitchen incident. Perhaps it was the undo he needed.

”Tell me Y/N. Do you find me attractive?” His fingers stroke the flesh of my jaw he’s getting confident as I don’t push him away.

”You are attractive.” I tell him honestly and he grins but not in a malice kind of way his grin more like a boyish grin that boys wear after hearing that their high school crush likes them back. The happy kind of grin.

”Have you thought about me too? Like I did.” The next question hits differently it’s not so innocent and I wasn’t in the illusion he is.

”Yes.” Holding onto the boldness I agree.

”Tell me.” He urges. He’s sober I remember. Avoiding his stare I let my shyness getting to the best of me he brushes a strand of hair behind my ears coaxing out the reply. It feels nice to be touched by him.

”It’s embarrassing.”

”I told you mine. You have to tell me your fantasies so I can make them come true.” He trails a finger following the line of my collarbone my outfit leaves literally everything to the imagination the only skin he can feel is on my arms.

”You’re unfair.” I whine the words out Yoongi stops his movements to see the emotions behind my eyes. He seems confused by my conflicted expression. His eyes were always expressive and I loved staring at them. Those rare moments shared, eating together at the weekends letting me hear one of his song he proudly introduces.

”How so?”

I take a deep breath cupping his cheeks. ”You look good with dyed hair but I prefer it black. You look the best when you come home from work all sweaty because the air conditioner still not gotten repaired in your workplace so you always take a shower before doing anything else.” There’s glint catching the light in his orbs watching me closely while I tell him the things I locked away in my memories. He caresses my wrist with a raised hand the other directly resting upon mine as it's his face still trapped between the heels of my palms.

”I like your voice.” I let the words flow out like a river caught up in a thunderstorm. ”I always wanted to know how it would sound like moaning my name. I like your hands too.”

”What about them?” A big smile stretches his face knowing too well he won. I don’t feel the frustration of losing I’d gladly accept this fate again and again if it will give me the same results at the end of this.

”Yoongi.” I whine.

”Did you imagined this? Or this?” His hands leaving their position fondling the flesh on my hip hiding me behind his body he walks a hand up my decolletage.

”Stop, we are in public.” I hiss.

”No one pays attention Y/N. But I’ll gladly take this to the bedroom.” The offer temps me but I remember the boys.

”We can’t. You are the only sober one and the guys need their ride home.” I reason and Yoongi groans in frustration. He forgot about them already. He looks at the booth the others are drinking and laughing.

”If I tell Namjoon to stop drinking he would be sober enough to drive them back.”

I shake my head it would be too dangerous and considering he competed with Jungkook about who can take more shots I bet he’s drunk like a donkey alongside with the younger boy. ”I’m drunk too.” I tell him when he tries to come up with more solution.

”Fine.” Yoongi hugs me close probably to hide his displeased face doesn’t want to sound so desperate maybe he’s embarrassed.

”Don’t be like that. I promise if in the morning when I sobered up you still want to do it I’ll let you.”

He perks up gently pushing me away to look into my eyes. ”Let me do what?”

”Let you take me.”

 ***

I feel something warm tickling my sides a sudden wave of cold air hits my stomach but the cold soon replaced with a warm and wet feel against my skin. My eyes narrowly open I try to fidget away wrapping my fingers around the comforter when I feel that wet and warm feeling on my thighs.

Hands and tongue. The fog in front of my eyes clears I don’t remember when did I fell asleep or how did I end up here. Where am I? I spot the synthesizer in the corner Yoongi’s synthesizer. Yoongi’s room.

”Yoongi, what .. ah” My voice raspy from sleep the way he rubbed his nose into my neck just to deliver a long kiss to it after halted my question before I was able to voice it out.

”Did I wake you up. My bad.” He smiled into my skin loving the way my heart beats erratically with his every touch, his hand above my breast feeling the movements of it.

”You don’t sound so sorry about it.”

”Do you have a headache?” He caresses the side of my face helping to curl the locks behind my ear that interfered with my vision. The thoughtful gesture made me smile up at his face mirroring his expression of tenderness.

”No I’m good. I didn’t drink that much.” My fingers itch to touch his face maybe it’s because of the dreamy state I’m currently in that I have the confidence in doing so. I brush my hands through his bangs his eyes closing the caress urges a smile he grabs my hands once I’m about to pull away to move it against his mouth giving a small kiss onto my palm before intertwining them with his much larger ones.

I could get used to this. The image of him looking so raw and so vulnerable his eyes puffy with sleep lazy motions of his fingertip exploring my body under the duvet. My shirt is rolled up just below my breasts the shirt’s neck hangs around my shoulder in a loose coverage it smells like Yoongi just like the covers. Looking down I realise it’s not my shirt. It’s his.

”Glad to hear that. I want you to repeat your promise to me.” Yoongi burrows his face into my neck again his hair brushing against my bare skin the hand that’s not holding mine drops under the covers finding my hip guiding me to drape my right leg over his waist facing each other sideways.

”Promise? Can you be more specific?” I boldly move my hand caressing with feather-light touches his side I can feel his bare torso and hips under my fingers he shivers and not because of the cold. He’s shivering because I touched him and he’s not wearing a shirt. The thought crosses my mind that the shirt I’m wearing is the one he did wear the whole day but not now. Every other day I would be embarrassed but I quite liked the idea of wearing his clothes in his bed.

”A tease I see.” He recovered quicker than I would like he gave a quick peck onto my shoulder where his shirt didn’t cover that much skin. He cupped my breast above the fabric of my bra the sudden feel of him squeezing me there I whined a little bit too loudly. I pulled my hand away shielding my face due to embarrassment.

”Yoongi.” I shyly call his name. He let his hand stay there but he remained motionless giving my hands each a kiss just where my eyes would be if I didn’t hide behind my limbs. His hand felt warm against me where my bra wasn’t covering his two fingers rested directly on the skin of my breast.

”Do I have your consent baby?” I gulp my shy personality says no but my body says yes for me.

”You can have anything.” I place my palm against his that lays on my body my eyes still closed but I don’t shield my face anymore. The words came out as whispers even though I wanted him to hear me say it. I wanted him to go on.

”Love. Answer me.” I open my eyes again when I feel his hand leave my boobs to cup my face with it instead.

”You can have me. You can fuck me. Did it answer your question or should I be more specific?” I wet my lips poking my tongue against the inside of my cheeks trying to calm down the rapid movement of my heart my hands shook as I grip his hair moving my mouth against his to not just say but show my consent. I want this. I want him.

”No. I think it was explicit enough, I like seeing you blush.” Hearing him say that makes me blush harder and he gifts me with a gummy smile basking in the responsive reactions. I would be more embarrassed if I wouldn’t feel the sticky substance dampening my underwear.

”Do you have something in mind? A preference? Or can I surprise you.” The way he explicitly asks about my sexual preferences makes him appear hotter a new wave of arousal hits me making me grind my thighs together forgetting that Yoongi’s leg is between them. I know he felt the wetness but doesn’t comment on it he instead pushes his knees further up parting my legs.

”You d-decide.” I moan when his knee brushes against my crotch. He hummed delighted by my answer. Placing back his hand once more squeezing my breasts before undoing the clasps behind my back. He slowly lets the material fall he strictly looks into my eyes not wandering downwards seeking out my every reaction. I gave him a little nod he takes it as the permission he needed he moves the cover so he can take a look.

”So pretty.” He sighs into my skin he turns my body to be flat against the bed the cold sheets meeting with my back goosebumps travelling up my spine. ”So soft.” He mumbles the endless of praises dragging his fingers over a nipple before licking it with his tongue a choked moan leaves my parted lips his hair gently caressing the skin. He circles the nipple with his poked out tongue kneading the other neglected one with his free hand. Mewls and sighs, in turn, filling the room trying to keep my voice quiet but it’s hard since the only thing I can concentrate on is his mouth on me and his hands those long fingers as he drags them down on my body a finger slides under the waistband of my panty he stretches the material out before letting it snap back into place. The uncomfortable feeling of it sticking to my folds gets frustrating by every passing minute.

”You smell good.” His raspy voice helps me return from my sudden astonishment I scrape his scalp with my long nails as I weave my fingers through his hair he lets out a low growl my skin covering up the noise the vibration he sends up my body by it makes me tighten my legs around his waist my underwear covered cunt pressed against his firm chest forces a not so silent whine out.

”It’s m-my lotion.” I reply absentmindedly. He hums into my collarbone not sure my answer registered truly in his brain I feel him taking a big inhale before pulling away he pushes himself up with the help of his hands planted beside my head looking with heavily lidded eyes taking in my hazed eyes and swollen lips before connecting our mouths. I almost forgot how good of a kisser Yoongi is.  

The light touch against my inner thigh makes my hip jolt up in surprise Yoongi’s eager mouth swallows all the sounds and whimpers. ”Relax.” He purrs aiming for my hips soothing circles into my skin. I take a few deep breaths Yoongi waits patiently for me to calm down a little the way his eyes sizing me up like I’m some kind of goddess eases some of my nerves. Once he’s positive I’m not going to run away he lets his palm touch me the barrier that’s my underwear stays in place as he drags his fingers directly onto my heat. I feel it throb under his ministrations having confidence after a few moans I let out he gets bolder using more pressure to dip between my folds the underwear’s silky touch lets him move smoothly. ”Can I feel it? I want to make sure you’re wet enough before I do anything else.” Nodding even before the question was fully out I anticipate a laugh or something to tease me about my eagerness. I don’t think I wanted someone this bad before to touch me. But he doesn’t laugh he seems as eager as I feel. He slides a finger under the damp material but he retreats too soon. ”Please, can I take it off?” To persuade me further if his plea wasn’t enough he rubs his fingers where my clit is over my panty. The plea was enough but I’m not complaining. I manage to signal him with a breathy yes. Don’t have to tell him twice he slides the ruined material down my legs his big warm hands gripping my inner thighs preventing my legs from closing before he can take a look.

”Look at that. So pink and swollen for me.” Previously he was careful with every move waiting for approval before doing anything bold but like he’s lost all the continence in him Yoongi drags two fingers up my folds coating his fingers with my arousal letting just the tip of his fingers penetrating just to pull back. I let out the loudest moan blushing as I realise just how loud I sounded but Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind, not at all. He wanted to coax more of those sounds as he bent down parting the lips with his tongue letting out his own moans while tasting me and if it’s even possible at this point I feel more turned on than ever.

”Warm too. Sorry, my love, my hands are a little cold but I hope you don’t mind.” He finally slips a finger in my eyes slightly open he watches me with a grin loving the way I squirm wanting it chuckles deep and I don’t mind at all. The stretch his one digit means feels familiar reminding me when I was chasing relief on my own but his fingers are so so much better longer and thicker. I can’t wait to feel the second one.

”I want to make you cum on my tongue.” Delivering a kittenish lick sucking on my clit for the demonstration before he goes on. ”Just to bring you another orgasm with my fingers.” Yoongi curls the one finger in me rubbing it into my throbbing walls ”Lastly let you cum around my cock.” He throws his head back moaning sinfully just thinking he’s about to make everything he said come true. ”You deserve at least three orgasms but I shouldn’t be greedy your virgin cunt can’t handle three.” He eases another finger in this time the stretch is a bit more uncomfortable.

”Let’s start with two.” He says settled with the idea he places a wet kiss onto my hip before finding my abused clit again sucking and rolling it around his tongue my walls contacts around his two digits I feel the sticky substance coating my inner thighs and dripping onto the sheets the mess, the way Yoongi’s hair tickle my thighs, the way he moves his fingers inside me, the pleasure gets overwhelming something starts to build up promising a relief I never had the chance of feeling before.

”Yoongi fuck, Yoongi” His name spills from my mouth and it seems to encourage him to be faster.

”It’s fine.” He tells before sucking harshly on my clit. ”Cum for me.” The proud grin he forms still buried between my legs and the vibration of his hum makes my legs shake I let my head fall back into the pillows closing my eyes until I see literal stars.

He stops lapping my juices once I’m finished the proud smile still plastered on his face licking his lips capturing the remaining of my pleasure. He looks so hot. I never knew I’m capable of coming this hard.

”Good?” Placing a kiss onto my nose he caresses my arms I didn’t realise I was grabbing onto the sheets this tight I let Yoongi place my hands onto his shoulder blades he moves to get between my legs once more.

Instead of answering, I can’t help but impatiently point out. ”You’re still wearing clothes.” I grab his hips pulling on his sweatpants playfully.

”Wanna take it off?” He asks smirking. I roll my eyes at his cockiness not that he’s all talk when it comes to his skills but he has more ego than he can manage and I’m not going to increase it for him.

”So what? Don’t tell me you are not eager even more than me to bury your dick into my virgin pussy.” His eyes grow bigger for a split second before it regains its original state, so he can be startled too. I’m surprised by my boldness, but god, it’s worth it seeing him so fucked up by those words.

”You’re playing a dangerous game Y/N. I need my self-control right now.” Something shifted in his eyes he looks like he’s about to devour me. Yoongi shifts onto his knees to get rid of the final barriers between us. I close my eyes my shyness returns too soon but Yoongi doesn’t mind it I open my eyes again as he positions myself above me placing a firm kiss onto my lips he senses I’m anxious.

”Do you trust me?” Seeing the open vulnerability in his shiny orbs, not entirely clouded by lust makes my head swim with a lot of suppressed emotion. I feel the urge to smile lifting my head from the pillows beneath me I give him a peck.

”Of course I am.” I kinda like you. I bite into my lips before the next sentence could slip through we’ll talk about this another time. Right, the only thing I want to focus on is Yoongi. Only Yoongi. His tip brushes against my stomach, shit, I haven’t seen how big he is. His lip pressed to mine swallows the tiny moan leaving my lips as he pushes the first inch inside parting my walls in a painful stretch. Fuck. He’s big.

”Tight.” Yoongi moans, more in pleasure than I am currently in but it’s ok. He made me cum I want to see him cum too. ”Relax for me angel I won’t hurt you I promise.” Relishing in the way he caresses my side I try to relax my body he pushes another inch in slowly his tip must be fully buried by now.

”That’s right. You’re doing so well.” He praises his eyebrows knit together in concentration he’s holding himself back because of me. Touched by the gesture I move my hip to meet his advances he slips in deeper than he intended his groan significantly louder by the sudden pleasure.

”Does it hurt?” He pulls himself together to keep the eye contact he caresses the skin under my eye I nod before answering.

”A little.”

”Let’s try a few more thrusts if it still hurts after that I’ll stop and eat you out again. Shit. Maybe I should have made you cum again for the extra lubrication.” Yoongi regretfully gazes at my face.

”It’s fine. Just go slow.” I say the burning is bearable I’m getting used to the feeling slowly but not sure if I can cum again.

”My baby is so tight.” I’m definitely a sucker for those pet names. It helps me focus on his words instead of his slow thrusts. ”I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel. Feeling you wrapped around me a dream come true.” I experimentally squeeze around him and he lets out a loud moan his head nestled into my neck groaning and moaning between filthy words his pace got quicker but I don’t stop him even though it’s not feeling as good as him eating me out. I want to please him though and by the sounds, he seems very pleased.

”Are you alright?” He stops after hearing a louder whiny moan on my part but I don’t let him I circle my hips in place dragging out moans from him but he forces himself to reset his previous slower pace. I’m not having any of it. I want him to cum and want it soon.

”Yoongi” I whine out his name an idea foggily forming at the back of my head. ”Yoongi, I wanna ride you.”

”Are y-you sure?” He stills inside of me waiting for the confirmation and I nod inviting him into a kiss that turns slopy by time. I feel his hands grabbing at my waist to change position this way he sinks in deeper.

Holy shit it feels so much better.

”Fuck. Do you like this?” He grips my hips dragging his cock touching every sensitive part in me as my walls swallow his shaft he pulls me up just to let me sink down with a needy moan I’m starting to feel the appeal.

”Yes. I-ah-think.” I can almost picture the way my eyes roll back behind my skull right now. What was I saying? ”Go faster.” I choke out and Yoongi with a following set of groans obligates I’m too far gone to pay attention to how Yoongi watches with hungry eyes that I ruin the bedsheets.

”I like that you are so messy.” He places a stray hair behind my ears our chests pressed together so he can thrust up faster and harder. Yoongi holds me in place taking control the way his eyes shuts involuntarily and his member twitching inside of me signals that he’s close.

He’s breathtakingly beautiful as he reaches his high he’s so lost in the pleasure my walls provide so tight around him that he doesn’t have the mind to kiss me back so I just press them together for a minute longer. My legs ache because of the exercise but I let him use me to ride out his high the pretty sounds and satisfied look he gives me once seated firmly inside me with our mixed cum spilling out he looks down where our body connects rubbing the skin of my hip lovingly while watching me ruin his sheets. He likes that I’m messy.

”I hope you like me back because I don’t think I could fuck anyone else from now on.” I end up in a pit of laughter leaning my head on his shoulder he feels my body shake with the motion Yoongi whines in overstimulation when I accidentally squeeze his spent member. I peck the skin where my head previously rested before searching for Yoongi’s eyes.

”I do like you back.” I admit it shyly even though there’s nothing to be shy about his dick is still inside for fuck’s sake.

”Glad to hear that.” His grin returns faster than the speed of light. ”I thought I fucked your brains out when you suddenly started laughing. I was concerned for a minute.” I try to hit his shoulder but he’s faster grabbing my hand by the wrist and gives the flesh an attentive kiss the gesture is sweet and melts my heart.

”How are you feeling?” It’s cute how he seeks my reassurance. He lets me move away careful when pulling out so I can finally take the previous position lying down.

”Hm, sore but good. I just need .. some time. I don’t think I can stand up just yet.” I offer my honest reply burying my nose into the duvet that got tossed aside. He leaves the room making me confused but once he’s back with a towel in hand I pierce two and two together. It’s his towel. The thought is enough to make me blush furiously.

”Spread your legs for me.” I take the request as an order shyly spreading my legs so he can clean me up. ”There. All cleaned up.” The bed squeaks under the weight of his one knee pushing me further into the sheets. Yoongi bows down to kiss me his tongue teases my lips as we kiss asking for permission that I eagerly permit.

[innermort]

*** disclaimer: this is a very long diary type of entry that is probably quite boring for everyone else and may be ignored. it's merely a very lenghty epiphany I just had about my life and myself and I had to type it out for me, to lock in the thoughts, if you will. it was pretty therapeutic tho. 🙃 ***

10/Sept/2021

I just had the realization that I'm in the process of redefining every aspect of my self and my life.

I quit smoking cigarettes from one day to another exactly 2 months ago tomorrow and went from a heavy to a casual party smoker.

I rarely ever smoke weed anymore (plus when I did since quitting tabacco, I rolled with herbs) and now made the conscious decision to take another long break, so it doesn't interfere with my weight loss again. I get the worst munchies and have no self control when I'm stoned. I'm talking "5000+ cals in one sitting" type of binges. I'm not tolerating this kind of self sabotage anymore.

I re-discovered edblr. Yes. I know. Not the healthiest habit to get back into but it's the only thing that has actually helped me gain the motivation and willpower to put a stop to my raging sugar addiction and instead, an actual effort into losing weight again. Besides, I'm doing it in a much more careful and "responsible" way now (high restricting, taking supplements, no strict/exact calorie limit, very light to no exercise (okay, to be fair the reason for that is mainly my injured knee but still), letting myself eat/drink more than planned if I feel my body needs it). And let's not forget that I've literally been binging every day for the past 2 or 3 months. My diet nearly exclusively consisted of chocolate, pastries and pizza. Literally. I've gained 10 kgs (22lbs) during that time. That lifestyle was just as unhealthy, if not unhealthier.

I finally got to hang up and use my calender. Due to my ADHD (self diagnosed for now), I'm very forgetful and unorganized - at least in my private life. That's why I made the decision to get a big calender which I can use as a semi To Do/Buy list and appointment/meeting/bill reminder. Since I'm glueing a sticker to each day I got through without binging, I'm looking at it pretty much every day anyways. Plus, it's a motivater to not binge (reward that inner child)! Overall, it's helping me become more organized and put together which are two areas I've been lacking in in the past years. So far, I've been mostly using my phone notes but I usually write something down and immediately forget about it if it's not a grocery list or a To Do list I'm actively working through on that same day.

I have my first appointment at a psych ward since I was a teen. It's just a phone call and first get to know conversation but it's better than nothing and more than overdue. I'm finally taking the first steps towards getting diagnosed and being eligible for therapy. I'm sick of feeling like a victim of my own brain, I just want to be better. I deserve to be better.

I'm hungry for knowledge again. I deleted Tiktok from my phone because of how big of a distraction it was and because I realized that even though I'm being bombarded with new information everyday, I'm not learning anything. Our brains can't even comprehend the amount of information given in that short time span. Nothing sticks. Sure, you find out about some pretty cool stuff on TT depending on what kinda fyp you have but for me personally, it was just hours and hours of mindless scrolling in the end. It's crazy how addictive it is, too. Even despite the fact that I was already at a point where it didn't even give me that quick dopamine quick anymore. It felt boring and repetitive and I was merely doing it out of habit.

So, I got rid off the app. I started watching documentaries again. Mostly about gut health and mental illnesses like ADHD, Autism, BPD, Narcissm etc. Like TED talks or interviews/discussions by and with professionals/experts/diagnosed people. I'm back to not just craving but actually consuming something with substance, something that gives me more knowledge and insight on a topic. Something I actually want to know more about.

I realized and accepted that even though I am a creative mind, a fully creative job might just not be for me. I'm learning that maybe I'm the type of person who does something entirely different in their free time than what they do at work. And that that's very much okay. I noticed that at my job (this was the case for every job I ever had), my mind seems to work differently. When people expect me to do something, I have the needed pressure and motivation to get it done. I could also observe in myself that at work, I enjoy organizing/sorting stuff, I'm a fast and independent learner while I'm also excellent at training new employees, I'm much more detail oriented than in my private life - overall, it came to my attention that I might not actually be the ever chaotic forgetful mess who can't form a logic thought - or I can at least recognize that this is merely a part of me and not what defines and limits me as a person. I realized I actually like straightforward work, I like working alone and I like working precisely. When I was younger I would have never used any of these traits to describe my dream career. I would gag at the idea of working an office job and now I feel like this would actually suit me very well. Especially the working alone part would mean feeling less drained at the end of a work day and still having the energy to hang out with people I actually want to see. This is an extremely valuable lesson about myself that I finally seem to have learned.

After this big sub- and now concious evaluation about myself I'm also finally taking actual steps towards a possible career. I bought a course and worked through the first 2 lectures today, taking notes and writing everything down neatly for 3 - 3 1/2 hours (in total with breaks in between). I even got a notebook specifically for this new life project. I'm excited to learn. I feel scared, too. This is something I've never done before but I'm telling myself that trying won't hurt. I have my main job as a safety net, financially nothing can happen to me. I can only learn, even if I fail. And time will pass anyways, whether I get my ass up and put in the work or continue to be unhappy with what I'm doing without trying to change anything.

Speaking of finances, I also started taking those more seriously now. I stopped using my credit card (I was in negative numbers constantly, big numbers like -300 to -800€ due to constant overspending). I set up standing orders for my monthly fixed costs to make sure bills are always paid on time. Due to my forgetfulness and ADHD freeze I would often forget to pay or postpone paying bills until the reminder came in the mail and led to me having to pay on top or generating debt. I still have a little bit of debt to pay off but it's thankfully not a dramatic amount. I also have a second bank account for savings now where I transfer 200€ to every month. Even the simple act of calculating my fixed costs to see how much I can use for what was something that was desperately overdue. What I still have to do is sort out my receipts and write everything down in a housekeeping/budget book. And my first ever tax return. I am very much dreading both of these. 😃

Anyways. Wow. I really needed to type this out. I have the very harmful tendency to look at all the negative stuff and only focus on what I don't have and don't do. I really needed to take a long, deep look at all the things I've been changing around in the past couple months. A lot of it really passed me by until now. It's crazy but I really feel like a complete failure when my body isn't looking its best and it makes me blind for everything else. So, thank you to myself for reminding me that I am actually making a lot of progress, even if it has been in areas other than my fitness and looks. They're just as important (from a healthy brains point significantly more important, obviously) and deserve to be noticed and celebrated.

Conclusion: ❤️✨YAY, ME✨❤️

[theydontknowaboutusimagines]

Valentine’s Day Surprise - Harry Styles Mini Series (Part 2)

Part 1 

**

It was the next day and you needed to get out of the house. Even though it was freezing outside, you were headed out for a walk and to grab some lunch with Gemma. You layered up and put on your favorite winter boots before heading out the door. As you walked along the shops on your walk, they were all decked out in pink, red, white, and purple and other various Valentine decorations. 

Which of course brought you back to your conversation with Harry and how he wouldn’t be back for the holiday. Part of you kept telling yourself it was fine and that it wasn’t a big deal, but it still didn’t help the other part of you that thought it was a very big deal. Flowers, chocolates, and little teddy bears filled all the window displays and you couldn’t help but think of you and Harry exchanging Valentine gifts when you were younger. 

At school everyone would always make little cards with a small bag of candy to hand out to the class, but you and Harry always saved something special for the other. You laughed to yourself as you thought about the tiny stuffed animals he had gotten you or all the discounted chocolates you two would be eating together while watching your favorite shows. 

Maybe that’s why you putting so much into spending Valentine’s with him because it was something you two always did as children and now that you two were actually together... it would be even more special. But it’s not like you could do anything about it anyway, so it was better to just figure out a way to make a virtual date special. 

When you got to the restaurant, Gemma was already at the table looking over the menu. 

“Sorry, I’m late,” you said. “I got distracted on the way over.” 

“Oh, you’re fine. I was a little early,” she smiled, wrapping you in a hug. “So, how are you doing?” 

“I’m okay,” you smiled. “Good... just finishing up my book.” 

“Yeah? How’s that going?” She asked. 

“It’s uh... going,” you laughed. “I’m revising it again... hopefully this will be the last time before line edits.. it supposed to release at the end of October, so the sooner I get this finished, the better.” 

She nodded, “How are you and Harry doing?” 

“We’re great,” you smiled. “I mean as much as we can be with not seeing each other for a bit... and apparently it’s going to be even longer now.” 

“Oh, that’s right. He said he won’t be back until around March or later, right?” She asked. 

“Pretty much,” you sighed. “Which sucks on it’s own, but I’m also pretty bummed we won’t be together on Valentine’s Day. I know it’s stupid and petty..” 

“No, it’s not,” she said. “It doesn’t matter how commercial this holiday is, everyone still wants to spend it with their significant other or wants someone to spend it with. And this would be your first one together, so it’s even more special. I get it.” 

“He came up with an idea of having like a facetime date, which we’ve done before, but I don’t know... I want to make it special, but I’m not sure how I can. I don’t want to feel like it’s just another FaceTime date, you know?” You said. 

“Okay, I have an idea, but I’m not sure if it will work,” she said. 

“What is it?” You asked. 

“Harry can’t leave LA, right? Because he’s working and can’t travel back and forth, hence why you two are going to be apart,” she said. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. 

“Do you think you would be able to travel to LA instead? Maybe surprise him there and you two wouldn’t have to be apart?” She asked. 

You bit your lip, “I have thought about it, but I don’t know. What if he’s too busy and wouldn’t have time for me? I don’t want to be in the way.” 

“Babe, you’re his girlfriend,” she said. “You could never be in the way and if you were then you need to get rid of him because you don’t deserve that,” she joked. 

You giggled, “Do you think it would work though? Like, if I went, I would want it to be a surprise. Do you think you could help me arrange it?” 

“Hmm... I guess I could fit you into my schedule... you are practically family after all,” she smirked. 

“Okay, then let’s do it!” You smiled. 

**

Harry had been on the phone and looking over this calendar for well over an hour. He kept trying to find a tim where he could fit in flying to London and back, but even if he was able to rearrange some meetings, it didn’t seem possible. He sighed running his hand over his face trying to figure out what to do next. 

It would be a lot easier if he just asked you to fly out here. He would arrange everything and pay for it, but he felt bad asking you to do that. Plus, he was afraid it would be spending too much time trying to figure out how to get there, that he wouldn’t have any plans once he was there. 

He grabbed his phone because he knew he needed advice. 

“Weeeeellll, hello Baby Brother!” Gemma smirked. 

“Hey, Gem,” he said. 

“What do I owe this rare phone call?” She asked. 

“I call you all the time,” he defended.

“Yeah, yeah, anyway, what’s up?” She asked. 

“I need advice,” he said. 

“Of course, you do,” she said. “What did you do this time?” 

“Why do you always assume it’s because I fucked up?” He asked. 

“Because about 99.9% of the time, you have,” she joked. 

“Remind me why I love you again?” He asked. 

“Because I know too much,” she said. “Anyway, carry on with your question.” 

“I’m in LA and I’m going to miss Valentine’s Day with Y/N... and I’m trying to figure out how to get there in back in the span of two or there days and I can’t make it work,” he sighed. 

“Okay if you’ve already figured out you can’t do it, where do I come in?” She asked. 

“I don’t know,” he sighed. “I just... do you think it’s worth be moving everything around just to be there for a few hours compared to just having a long distance date?” 

“Well, I mean, would it be worth it to see you girlfriend in person compared to a seeing her via a screen, yes, but that is a lot of traveling,” she said. 

“I know, I want this to be special. Yeah, we’ll have other Valentine’s Days in the future, but this is our first one. We won’t ever get it back,” he sighed. 

“Okay, look at it this way, let’s say you decide to go to London,” she said. “And you’re exhausted from traveling or you’re worried about having only a small window of being there... that probably would ruin your time together than if you just stayed put, right?” 

“That’s a possibility,” he sighed. 

“How about this,” she said. “Instead of sending all your time trying to travel thousands of miles for a few hours, try spending time on making what you can do special. You could also postpone it until a time you can be together.” 

“I guess you’re right,” he sighed. “I really want to be there, but I’m not sure I’m going to be able to make it work.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it, okay? Y/N understands,” she said. 

He nodded, “Thanks, Gem,” he said. 

“You’re welcome. You’ll get my bill in the mail,” she smirked. 

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes. “I’ll talk to you later.” 

**

You didn’t know how you were able to pull it off, but with the help of Gemma, everything was planned accordingly. Plus, you ended up finishing the remainder of your draft, so you wouldn’t have to worry about working during your time there. Now, the only thing you had to worry about is what you are actually going to do once you got there. 

You didn’t want to plan the entire thing out because you weren’t sure what his side of things looked like, but you wanted to make sure other aspects were taken care. First up was gifts. You weren’t going to over board, but you knew you wanted to get something small and cheesy along with something a little nicer. 

This was your first Valentine’s Day together after all. So, a few hours before you were due to catch your flight, you decided to head out to the shops and find something. Luckily, most stores still had quite a few options to choose from or else you were fucked. You were at a tiny gift shop on the corner when you found a little teddy bear, just like the one you had been given all those years ago. However, it had one aspect that was very different, but fit perfectly. 

The bear was holding a heart that said, “I Adore You, My Valentine,” written on it and you knew Harry would love it. You quickly put the bear in your shopping basket before gathering a few other little random items such as chocolates and a candle you knew he would like. 

Just before you decided to check out, something caught your eye. It was a stand of bracelets that looked exactly like ones you use to make when you were younger and your mom bought you a bead kit. You smiled looking at the different ones until you finally saw one you loved. You grabbed it and headed straight to the check out. 

On your way back to your house, you passed by another shop, a lingerie shop to be more specific. You knew it was very cliche to make a purchase like that for Valentine’s Day, but sometimes cliche was exactly what you needed in life. So, you made your way inside and looked around before trying on a few different options and deciding to get a couple of them. 

Once you got back to your house, you added the things you just bought into your luggage and made your way to the airport. 

It was time to go see your man!

**

Harry was stressing big time over what to do. He kept trying to figure out some fun things to spice up the virtual date and make it special. He even tried to order flowers and gifts to send to you, but of course the majority of shops were already sold out. He had two days before the 14th and he needed to figure something out quick. 

“What’s going on with you?” Jeff asked as Harry paced around the room. 

“Other that royally fucking up Valentine’s Day, not much,” he sighed. 

“Why are you putting so much pressure on one holiday?” Jeff asked. 

“Because... you don’t get it,” Harry sighed. “This isn’t just one holiday. It’s the first one being with Y/N. We’re never going to get that back. Yeah, it’s cheesy and it’s not technically a big deal, but it is. We’ve spent so many years of our lives apart and now that we’re together, I don’t want to miss anymore occasions. When we were younger, we would spend Valentine’s together, eating all the candy we got at school and going through our cards. I remember getting jealous when she would gush over a card from another boy or if someone else got her a little something extra.” 

“We even went to a Valentine’s dance together when we were ten,” he laughed. “I remember she wore this really pretty dark red dress that had roses on it and we danced and laughed the whole night. She was actually the first person I awkwardly swayed side to side with at a school dance. So, that’s why I’m putting so much pressure on myself. We have all these amazing memories from our childhood and I want to make sure we have just as many now.” 

Jeff sighed, running his hand over his hair, “Okay, I feel like I’m in the middle of a romantic comedy on Netflix right now, but go pack a bag.” 

“What? Why?” Harry asked. 

“Because I’m taking you to the airport,” Jeff said. 

“For what?” Harry asked. 

“Because you’re going to London,” he said. 

“Really? How? I tried-” Harry asked. 

“I’ll take care of it. Now, just go. You get on a red eye in a few hours,” Jeff said. “I checked.”

“Why are you doing this?” Harry looked at his friend and manager. 

“Because you deserve to make those memories with Y/N,” Jeff said. “Now, go before I change my mind.” 

Harry smirked, wrapping his arms around Jeff, “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he said. “I knew there’s a reason I kept you around.” 

“Ha ha,” He rolled his eyes. 

Harry laughed, shaking his head, before going straight to the room to get his bag. It was time to go see his girl! 

**

Uh-Oh... Part 3 coming tomorrow. 

I will say this, we’re about to get a Winter Storm in my area with ice and snow, and there is a potential I could lose power/internet, so I’ll keep you updated just in case I can’t post tomorrow. :)

[writingwithciara]

Marry Me ~Drew Starkey~

summary: y/n and drew. an inseparable duo. they grew up thinking nothing could come between them. but when they turned 24, they were definitely mistaken.

word count: 2.8k

pairings: drew x reader

warnings: angst

a/n: mostly told in 3rd person with bits of Drew’s POV. based off of this song! this gif will be drew before the wedding, just saying. italics are flashbacks!

masterlist

At 8 years old, Drew was trusted to wander the neighborhood alone. He went to the park and saw a girl dressed in a tutu, dancing barefoot in the sandbox. When he approached her, he startled her. She stopped dancing and turned to face him.

“Hi.” her smile was the most friendly thing Drew had ever seen. It was the first time he’d met someone who didn’t scare him.

“Hi.” he waved and kicked the sand below his foot.

“What brings you here?” 

“Got bored at home and needed a new adventure.” he shrugged in response, hoping to get the girls name without asking.

“ME too.” she smiled. “What’s your name, stranger?”

“D-drew.” he looked up and noticed a quizzical look upon her face.

“I like it.” she smiled and held out her hand. “I”m y/n.”

“y/n?” he raised an eyebrow and looked at her. 

Suddenly becoming insecure of her name, she stepped back., letting go of his hand. “My p-parents liked the name.”

“I like it too.” he smiled and sat on the edge of the sandbox. y/n stood in front of him with an outstretched hand.

“Come on. You wanted an adventure and an adventure, you will get.” she offered him the kind smile she greeted him with. He knew that this new found friendship would last a long time.

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

All through life, y/n & drew were inseparable. In high school, they were always mistaken for a couple, and at the time, neither of them realized just how much they acted like one.

It wasn’t until one night, during one of  Drew’s football games, that one of them started noticing.

The game was nearing the end and Drew had yet to spot y/n in the crowd. She wasn’t in her usual spot in the stands and he was starting to get worried that something had happened to her.

He was the quarterback though, so he couldn’t let that shake his focus. He looked back into the team huddle as they went over the plays. They broke apart seconds later and got in their starting positions. Drew called out some plays and was handed the ball. Just as he was about to throw it, he caught sight of her. She waved at him and he was almost hypnotized. It took y/n screaming his name to make him come to his senses.

“Drew!” she shouted and nodded her head to the left. The other teams players were running towards him so he made a quick pass to the wide receiver on the left. The guy caught the ball and ran it in for a touchdown. That was it. They had won the game. Drew and the guy who made the touchdown were suddenly lifted into the air and everyone started chanting. 

Y/n waited by Drew’s car for him to come out, like she always did. And when she spotted him, she ran full force into him. If he hadn’t seen her already, he would’ve been knocked down. But he caught her and spun her around. 

After they got in his car, they drove to the diner to celebrate with the team. Y/n and Drew sat in their favorite, and most frequented, booth and ordered their usual celebratory meal. Burgers, fries and a shake.

“Where were you? I was getting so worried.” Drew smiled as he stole her fries. She smacked his hand and giggled.

“I had to wait for Dennis to pick me up.”

“Wh-who’s Dennis?”

“He’s my new neighbor. Just moved in a few days ago. He offered to drop me off at the game and he was running late.”

“If you wanted to, you could’ve gotten a ride with me.”

“I know. But I wanted to give you some space before the big game.” she smiled and looked at him. “I didn’t want to distract you right before you went out on the field.”

“You’re my good luck charm. You could never distract me.” he held her hand and looked out the window at their friends, who were goofing off in the parking lot. “You have no idea how lucky I am to have you in my life.”

“I was thinking the same thing.” she smiled and before either of them knew, they both started leaning in. Their lips were only an inch or two apart when they were interrupted by some guy banging on the window beside Drew. “Dennis!” she smiled and ran out to greet the guy. As she slapped his arm for scaring her, he chuckled and wrapped her up in a hug.

Drew instantly felt insecure and he wasn’t sure why. 

This Dennis guy looked like he came out of an Abercrombie & Fitch catalog, the very type of guy that y/n would fall for. As Drew looked on at the two outside, he didn’t feel hungry anymore so he stood up, paid the bill, and left the diner.

For the next year or so, he distanced himself from y/n. He couldn’t stand to hear her talk about how great another guy was, right in front of him. The night at the diner made Drew realize that the only reason he suddenly felt jealous, was because he was in love with her.

2 years after the championship game, he got an envelope in the mail. It was addressed to him and it was from y/n. Wondering what she wanted, he quickly opened the envelope. But when he did, his heart dropped. Inside was a wedding invitation to Dennis & Y/n’s wedding. 

It was surprising to him that he had even received the invitation in the first place, since he had been blowing her off for the better part of 2 years. He didn’t want to go to the wedding, but he knew if he didn’t, he’d regret it. 

So the day of the wedding, he showed up. His tux was the same one he wore to prom. The exact same one that he knew y/n would love. The one she did love when she saw him in it that night.

It was killing him, these thoughts he was having. He had contemplated his plan and changed the details many times. His original plan was to show up and actually watch the girl he loved get married to the man he was incredibly jealous of. Then, he changed the plan to leaving halfway through. The plan changed 4 more times after that.

And here he was now, getting ready to try out his final plan. He wanted to go see her and he hoped that once she saw him, she’d give up on Dennis and run away with him. 

But as he approached the room where she was getting ready, he heard her talking to her friends. He stopped and listened to them.

“You look so great in that dress.” 

“You really do, sweetie.”

“Thanks, mom.” she smiled and kissed her moms cheek. Her sister and her 2 best friends sat next to each other on the couch.

“Dennis is a lucky man, sis.”

“I’m even luckier.” she smiled happily. “I love him so much.”

When Drew heard those words come from her mouth, he made one final decision. He went back to the gift table, set the box down gently & walked away. He could not stay and watch her marry Dennis. It would break his heart knowing that he could’ve been the one up at the altar with her, had he actually told her how he felt before Dennis entered the picture.

If he had stayed outside of her room just a minute longer, he would’ve heard something amazing during the conversation. Something he would’ve enjoyed hearing.

“Is Drew coming today?” y/n asked her friends.

“You know, I’ve always hoped it was going to be you and Drew doing this.” her mom smiled and shook her head. Y/n’s sister looked at her as well.

“Me too.”

“Yeah. I thought the same thing but, Drew never made a move. It would’ve been nice to be marrying him, but Dennis is a great guy and he treats me well.” y/n smoothed out the front of her dress and turned. “I made the right choice, right?”

“That’s up to you to decide, sweetie.” her mom looked over at her children and smiled.

“5 minutes, ladies.” y/n’s dad walked into the room and nearly bawled his eyes out. “Awww. My baby looks so beautiful.” 

“Oh, dad. You’re gonna make me cry.” y/n grinned and followed the group out of the room. 

“Dennis is going to lose his mind when he sees you.”

“That’s the plan, dad.”

Y/n watched her friends walk down the aisle and when it was her turn, she grabbed her dad’s arm and walked with him. Her eyes searched the crowd for the blue eyes she cared about. Despite what he has been doing to her for years, she wanted nothing more than to see him sitting in the spot she reserved for him.

When here eyes didn’t find his, she started getting nervous. His eye contact was the only thing that truly calmed her down and she didn’t have it right now. She had thought that he had taken the last second to have a bathroom break but after 15 minutes, she realized he wasn’t coming.

She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she didn’t realize that the ceremony was almost over.

“IF anyone can think of any reason these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.” the minister read from his book. 

When nobody stood up to object, y/n felt a knot in her stomach. Part of her had hoped that maybe Drew would stand up and tell her that she was making a mistake and that she should be with him. Unfortunately, he was nowhere around.

“Now, do you Dennis Christopher Mixon, take Y/F/N to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.” Dennis smiled.

“And do you, Y/F/N, take Dennis Christoper Mixon, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

The entire crowd looked at her, anticipating her answer. Her dad knew what she was thinking and he gave her a small nod. 

~Drew’s POV~

After I left the wedding venue, I went to the diner I spent all my free time at. The cook began making me a meal as soon as he saw me and the owner sat with me. 

“What’s up, Drew? Shouldn’t you be at y/n’s wedding?”

“He’s not there because it’s not him she’s marrying.” the cook smiled as he served me. Mrs Marden let out a chuckle.

“Is that true, honey? Are you upset because it’s not you?”

“I couldn’t sit there and watch her say she loves him. She shouldn’t be with him and I should’ve said how I felt from the beginning.”

“You know, the both of us have seen the two of you grow up & we thought that it’d for sure be the two of you sharing the rest of your lives together.” Devyn smiled sympathetically as he sat with us.

“I wish it was me.” I looked down at my watch and undid my tie when I noticed the time. “But it’s too late now. The ceremony is probably over by now and she’s now Mrs Mixon. I missed my chance.” I sighed and threw my head back. I didn’t notice the two of them gaze out the window and share a look.

“It might not be too late, Drew.” Mrs Marden nudged my shoulder and walked away. Devyn followed her as they went to the kitchen. I took a quick look out the window, then back at my plate. 

“Wait a second.” I mumbled to myself and looked back out the window. Y/n was walking up to the diner in her wedding dress. Tears were flowing down her face as she stopped and locked eyes with me through the window. She shrugged and started crying again. 

I got up and ran out to her, immediately pulling her into a hug.

“Shouldn’t you be on your honeymoon right about now?”

“I couldn’t do it.” 

“What?”

“I couldn’t marry Dennis.” she sobbed into my chest. “Everyone looked so disappointed as I ran out. I think I broke Dennis’ heart. That’s not what I do. I’m not a heartbreaker. Oh my god. I feel so ashamed.”

“Hey, you did what you thought was right for your heart. I don’t think anyone can be mad at you for that. You knew being with Dennis wasn’t right, so you left.”

“Our parents spent so much money on the wedding and they’re gonna be so mad.” she continued to sob, obviously ignoring what I had just said. I grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back a little.

“Look at me, okay? Nobody could ever be mad at you. And if they are, it’ll only be briefly. Like I said, you followed your heart and did what was gonna benefit you. That’s all that matters, y/n/n.” I looked down at her and noticed her eyes were closed. “You’re my best friend and I’m so sorry I’ve been pushing away all these years.” 

Was this finally the time I was able to tell her? Nah, I couldn’t She just ran our on her wedding. It just wouldn’t be right. If she even reciprocated the feelings, I didn’t want to be a rebound. So I kept my feelings buried for now.

“I realized that I didn’t love Dennis as much as I had led myself to believe.” she sniffled and rubbed her eyes. The mascara came off on her hands and she looked at me. I nodded and she rubbed her hands on my tux. Thankfully, it was black and wouldn’t show much. “Truthfully, I fell in love when I was 8 & I’ve never gotten over it. Marrying Dennis wouldn’t have been fair to either party involved.”

“You fell in love when you were 8?” was this the moment? “What a coincidence. I fell in love when I was 8 too.”

“Oh, did you really?”

“Yeah. With this goofy girl who danced barefoot in the sandbox while wearing a bright pink tutu.” I smiled and rubbed her shoulder. “She was quite the style icon back then.”

“Sounds like a complete dork.” she laughed.

“Oh, she was. But that dork became my best friend so quickly. Guess I was just attracted to the ‘dork’ lifestyle back then.”

“You’re telling me.” she smirked, “Remember when you dated Lilah because your friends dared you to?”

“Ugh. Don’t remind me.”

“And then there was Lisa. And Lauren. And the other Lisa. Oh. There was also Lindsey.” she counted off all my ex-girlfriends on her fingers. “Wow. Lot’s of L names, huh?”

“It was my favorite letter.”

“Ah, I see.” she nodded and stared at her feet. Her shoes were now in her hands and she was swinging them. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah. And I love you too.” I joked, knowing exactly what she meant. But my tone didn’t come across how I wanted it.

“The kid I was talking about, the one I fell in love with when I was 8, was you.”

“Oh, really? I wouldn’t have ever guessed that.”

“Drew, I’m trying to be serious for a second here. Can you just let me talk, please?”

“Of course. Go ahead.” I smiled and she stood in front of me.

“I’m in love with you, Drew Starkey. And if you’ll let me, I plan on never stopping.”

“I’m in love with you too.” I looked at the girl and when I saw the look in her eyes, I panicked. “But-”

“But? There should be no but.”

“I can’t be a rebound.”

“If anything, Dennis was the rebound from you, dude.” she grabbed my face and made me look in her eyes. “Tell me right now that you don’t want to be with me and I’ll walk away. Look me in the eyes and tell me that’s what you want.”

“I....” I looked into her eyes and all of our memories came flooding back to me. “I can’t do that.”

“Thank god, because I wouldn’t have walked away.” she giggled and kissed my nose, something we used to do to calm each other down & keep each other grounded. “So, is this what you want? A hot mess in a wedding dress?”

“Hey, as long as the hot mess is you, I’m cool with it.” I pulled her closer and rested my forehead against hers. “I’m all in.”

“Hmmm...Good.” she smiled and closed the gap between us. It may have taken nearly 15 years but I finally got what I wanted since I was 8. And like it was magic, she was 8 and wearing her tutu while I was wearing my power rangers t-shirt. 

Life couldn’t get any better.

tags:  @spilledtee​​​ @im-a-stranger-thing @ameeravandijk​​​ @jellyfishbeansontoast​​​ @obxmxybxnk​​​ @http-cherries​​​ @ijustreallylovethem​​​ @maggiesrandomness​​​ @softstarkey​​​ @poguesgold​​​ @jjouterbanks​ @drewstarkey​

[taehyungiejiminie95]

BTS Reactions – They try to win you back

He clutches at his chest, trying to slow his racing heart down. This isn’t right. He knows it. It’s not been the same since he left you, and he doesn’t know how to cope. In all of his life, he has never made a mistake this big, and he has never wanted to turn back time more. He’s not a time traveller, so the only fix is to do his best to win you back. It has to work. He has no other choice.

Jin

It’s been… some amount of time since you last saw Jin. It hasn’t actually been that long, but at the same time it feels like an eternity. You’ve got this Jin-shaped hole carved into you, and there’s nothing that can fill it. No amount of time, distraction or food could ever come close. You’d know. You’ve tried. You’ve been trying since he left you, but nothing’s changed. It still hurts, but you’re not using it as an excuse. With all the effort it takes, you’ve been going out everyday to the bakery you run with your soon-to-be-retiring parents and acting like you’re okay. For the most part, you very nearly believe it.

You normally get in before your parents do, so you can fire up the ovens and set up for the day ahead, so you’re not surprised to find the bakery in complete darkness. It smells like home here, somewhere you can truly forget your worries. Today’s special pastry is going to be churros, and you know it’s going to smell even better. A nostalgic scent, you always felt. You flip on the main lights as you go, heading straight for the back room. Stopping short, you realise that something feels odd. You have that feeling you get when someone’s stood too close, but you know there’s nobody around. You’re probably just being weird. That’s quite normal for you at the moment, really, so you do your best to shrug it off and you push your way through to the office to put your coat and bag down,

“What on earth…” You mutter under your breath, seeing the state of the office. Flour. Literal bags of flour covering every inch of the desk where you do the accounts. Your brow furrows as you step forward to where a sole red rose rests atop the bed of flour bags, next to a small note, “I’m outside,” You read aloud, a sense of dread filling you from the toes up. If you couldn’t recognise Jin’s handwriting after how long you spent together, who even are you?

The question of whether or not to respond to this gesture makes you wonder. Is it worth seeing what he wants? Or should you just ignore it, clear the bags into the pantry, and pretend this never even happened?

Your feet move of their own accord, propelling you back through the shop and out of the front door to where Jin is waiting, looking as handsome and as serious as the day you met him, when he was running late for his friend’s birthday and needed something – anything – sweet to take in means of a gift,

“You always said you had no use for flowers. Flour on the other hand… that you need an abundance of,” He half-heartedly teases, looking at you with poorly concealed fear, “Please, will you let me explain myself to you? I know I don’t deserve it but…” He trails off, eyes wide and fearful. Your words fail you. What are you meant to do here?

Yoongi

Your alarm goes off with a harsh buzz, making you wince as you’re rudely woken. It’s cold this morning, you realise with a huff as you get up. You flick the kettle on for your coffee and turn on the radio. Ever since Yoongi left you, you’ve hated the silence. It only amplifies how alone you are, how empty the apartment has been since he left. You rub the sleep out of your eyes as you reach for a mug, the kettle screaming to you that it’s ready. That’s when you hear it,

“In a surprise move from BTS member Suga, a new song has been realised under his own name. This is unusual for him, as the rapper uses many aliases for his different work, but never his birth name…” A cold sweat breaks out over your body as you fumble to get to the radio. You don’t want to hear the new song. The feeling of dread in your stomach tells you what it is, and the soft sounds of piano confirm that for you when you’re not quick enough to the power switch.

Time stands still. Nothing moves as the song plays. You know it’s for you. The melody is something he wrote for you in the early days of your relationship. He always joked that he’d release it under his birth name, because it was so personal. He never did. But now, as you listen to the song which is so clearly dedicated to you, your heart aches for him. His art. This is far more than a melody, than a simple piece of piano he wrote for you. This is pain mixed with poetry and poured into a track. This is true beauty, and you can’t deny it. You can’t move as the words wash over you, and your emotions quickly follow. Tears threaten to break rank as your lip trembles and you’re forced to see how much you miss him.

The last notes of the track wrap themselves up in melancholy, the final one dragging out as if it doesn’t want to end. You don’t want it to. It feels even emptier now, without that song. The radio DJs begin to discuss the unusually heartfelt track, comparing it to First Love, only more pained. You’re still stuck in the kitchen, holding a mug so tight it’s groaning and threatening to break.

Minutes pass as you try to process what you’re feeling, and what this means. Does he want to talk to you? Does he regret what he did? Or is he only using pain as inspiration, with no real intent?

Your phone rings. “Min Yoongi is calling…” You lurch to pick it up before it goes to voicemail.

Hoseok

It’s just gone 11. You pull the covers up over your head in an attempt to try and pretend like you’re any closer to sleep than you were 2 hours ago when you got into bed. It’s been… hard lately. Without him. You can’t even bring yourself to think his name anymore. You’re not someone who lets their life halt for some man, and you’re not letting that happen now. You refuse to huddle down and let this ruin you, which is why you confine your sadness and dysfunction to night times only. During the day, you’re fine. You don’t even let yourself entertain the thought that you want him to come home, to climb into bed and sing you to sleep like he always did. It’s too painful to think about wanting-

Your thoughts are rudely interrupted by a sharp knock at the door. With a groan, you slide out of bed and head towards the door. You fumble around for a moment with the lock before you’re finally able to swing the door open, your very best glare ready for whenever this visitor comes into view. You’re surprised to see… nobody. It takes a huff and an eye roll before you cast your vision down to the floor, where you see a small box. The words “From your Hoseok~” are born on a gift tag, and the tidy scribble of the handwriting you recognise so well. It’s hard to resist scooping down to pick it up.

The box sits in your hands for the rest of the night. You don’t sleep. You barely even blink as you try to work out whether you should open it – just so you don’t have to live with the painful curiosity – or put it in the bin – just in case whatever it is hurts you.

As night turns into dawn, you sigh and put your head down on the back of the couch. Your first movement for hours. It’s taking everything in you to not just throw this damn box back onto the doorstep, or post it straight through Hoseok’s letterbox and be done with it, but you know you need to open it. You lift the flaps carefully and look inside, somehow terrified about what you’ll find. It’s a small note, written in the same tidy scrawl.

‘Meet me by the river tonight. The one we met at, outside your apartment. Let me show you how sorry I am’.

You’re out the door before you can stop yourself,

“You’ve been here all night?” You shriek, seeing Hoseok sat under a willow tree, one of many that line the bank of the river. He nods slowly, gazing unseeingly into the flowing water. You tear off your dressing gown and drape it around his shoulders as best you can, “You’re still an idiot, then. It’s the middle of winter, and you’re hardly dressed appropriately,”

“You didn’t come, but I couldn’t accept it. I needed to be sure you really didn’t want me anymore,” He whispers, finally turning to look up into your eyes, trying to find his answer. The truth is that you’re not even wholly sure on one yourself.

Namjoon

The pigeon hole with your apartment number on it never has anything interesting in it, other than bills and spam, but you still make a habit of checking it every day. Just in case, you suppose. You’re on your way in from work when you check it, today. You barely even glance in, about to walk away when a small package catches your eye. You take it into you hands curiously, not recalling having ordered anything, You take it up to your apartment anyway, seeing as it isn’t a case of someone else’s mail in your pigeon hole. It’s clearly addressed to you. Maybe one of your friends has sent you a care package to get through your low period.

An hour or so later, you curl up on your couch with a hot cup of tea. You’ve showered off and had a snack, and your mid had wandered back around to the mysterious package tantalisingly awaiting you on the coffee table where you left it. It feels quite dense, you realise as you carefully tear back the brown wrapping paper. It’s a book, you find out. You’ve opened it from the wrong side – you’re looking at the back, where the blurb should be. Instead, it’s just a plain matte black. Turning it over, you see the title embossed in silver against the black – “My Last Love by Kim Namjoon”.

Your heart drops to your stomach, but you can’t stop yourself from carefully opening the cover, flicking to the acknowledgments in the front.

“To my greatest loss, and my greatest achievement. We always spoke about me publishing this book, but I never had the courage. Now, I have nothing lose. I hope you’ll read this, although by now you’ll know the story better than I do. It may be selfish, but I also hope you’ll reach out in the way I’m too afraid to do”

You fingers trace over the words, not written in the traditional font but printed in the front of every book in his own handwriting, smudges and all. Tears shine in your eyes without you realising as you see what this is. For years, Namjoon was writing a book. It was based on the story of your love, although he was always unsure of his skill, whether it would be good enough to ever publish. He kept it in his archives for a while, forgetting about it until he broke things off with you. He was right, you do know the story better than anyone, but you can’t resist flicking to the first page and allowing yourself to get lost in his world. A world you sheared, it used to be.

You’re only a chapter in when your phone lights up with a text. It’s your friend. They want to know if you’re going to reach out to Namjoon, the way he clearly wants you to. The thought makes your throat close up. Do you want to?

Jimin

Turning your phone over, you sigh. You miss the days when you would be able to pick up your phone at any given time and see a few notifications waiting patiently for you. Jimin was someone who liked to keep you updated always, even if it was just with the occasional picture or a few seconds of video. It’s almost painful now to turn on your phone and see ‘No New Notifications’ waiting for you. At times like this, it’s too painful to look at. At least if you’ve turned the screen away from yourself, you can’t jump up every time the flashes across it, making it look as if it’s lit up again.

You try your best to go about your day as normal, running errands around the house in time for work tomorrow. It’s boring, but well overdue. You scrub the inside of the oven, do your laundry, sweep the floors, bleach the toilet and you’re just about to re-organise your wardrobe when your phone rings,

“Hello?” You answer, only to immediately be spoken over by your very excited friend,

“Look out of your window right now! Just go, do it! You will not believe what it is!” They all but scream, causing you to panic slightly as you rush to tear your curtains open, fully expecting to see an alien spaceship threaten to destroy the earth if you don’t comply. But it’s not anything like that. Somehow, it’s worse. It’s a large white blimp, with Jimin’s face plastered onto each side. In his own enlarged handwriting, a message is shown clear for the world to see – ‘you will always be my safe place’, “Oh my God, I need to go for a second and call my boyfriend. He needs to up his game. I’ll call you back!” Your friend promises, but you barely even hear. Your phone is loose in your grip, and your breath is scarce in your lungs as you’re forced to see what the whole of the country is currently photographing and talking about. They’re literally sending Jimin’s over-the-top attempt to win you back viral. You don’t know how long passes before your friend calls again. You pick up instantly,

“I honestly can’t believe this. He broke up with me, why would he-“ An all-too-familiar voice cuts you off,

“Because I made a huge mistake,” Jimin’s broken voice whispers, marred with tears.

Taehyung

You smile politely at the security on the door as you breeze past them. They don’t bother to stop you, knowing well who you are. The event looks as grand as you were hoping, and a sense of satisfaction bubbles up to the surface as you cast your eyes around the gallery. This was probably your most ambitious project yet – you’ve combined the art collections of 25 of the greatest connoisseurs in the world, having to rent out 10 different venues to hold everything that encompasses your art show. Your colleagues shake your hand as you sautés further into the venue, knowing you’ll be bored of all this by the time the final one opens. But for now, you’re enjoying it on night 3 of 10.

Something grabs your attention from the corner of your eyes – a tallish man, wearing a beret and an unusual combination of clothes but… no. You refuse to let false memories of Taehyung plague your night. You plaster a smile back onto your face as you take a glass of champagne.

As your exit time comes near, you decide to simply observe as much of this wonderful art as you can. The pensive look on your face wards off conversation partners as you wander through the work you’ve compiled. You recognise some of the work here, but not all of it. Some of it is to your taste, and some isn’t. That’s what you love most about this. Seeing things from the perspective of others, and not always agreeing with what you find.

But one painting stands out more than anything else in the room. It’s… unique. It’s a clash of colours that shouldn’t work, but do. It’s confusing and loud, but you can’t tear your eyes away. It gives you a sense of nostalgia that you can’t shake, and it speaks to you in an odd way. It feels like pain and longing,

“You haven’t stared at a single painting as long as this one,” A familiar voice remarks from behind you. Your eyes dart to the corner, and you see the artist who created this. It’s called “Desire” by Vante. With a deep breath, you turn around to face Vante. Your Taehyung, “Do you like it?” He asks, eyes as wide and as curious as when you first met him,

“It’s different to your normal work. What prompted the change?” You reply civilly, feeling your hand start to shake around your champagne glass. Funnily enough, you already know the answer to your question,

“Losing you,” Taehyung whimpers, taking a step forward, “Look, I know that I’m the one who left you, but I made a mistake. Please, let me talk to you. I can’t lose you like this,” he pleads, voice cracking as he tries to reach for your hand. You don’t know whether or not to let him.

Jungkook

Your Jungkook, your love, the one you cherished above all else, was never that into big romantic gestures. He was small things that made you smile. He was doing the dishes when he got in past midnight so you didn’t have to. He was buying you a bouquet of flowers every now and then because of how you love fresh flowers. He was leaving you a home cooked meal on the side when you were getting home late. He was carrying you to bed when you fell asleep. Your Jungkook was not a big gesture. He was the little things that kept you smiling.

Maybe that’s why everything going on right now has been such a shock to you. This isn’t like your Jungkook at all, but somehow it’s just as real and genuine. The video on your phone plays again, stuck on a loop, just as your mind is. It hardly makes sense at all, that he would do this. He’s the one who left you, and yet he’s gone to such a length to get your attention again. You cast your eyes back down to your phone, needing to watch it one more time to try and grasp that it really did happen,

“ARMY!” Jungkook calls, waving his hand up. The crowd screams loudly before finally falling quiet again, “ARMY, you do so much for me, and for BTS. You know our love for you never ends,” He confesses, sending the crowd wild again. He waits patiently for their focus to come back to him, “That’s how I know that I can ask this favour of you. Will you all do something special for me?” Jungkook calls, spinning to cast his eyes around the arena. It’s the end of the concert, and everyone is tired, but he can’t let this go. He knows it will work, “Everyone, get your phones out! Put your camera on, turn the video on, film this! I want you to record something for me, and then I want you to post it to every platform you have. Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, Facebook, everywhere! You, my Kinds and Queens of trending, I need you to make this go viral,”

Jungkook’s eyes somehow meet the lens of every camera in the arena at once as he speaks your name solemnly. The crowd hushes each other so Jungkook can speak. His eyes are red, and he’s not sure for how long he’ll remain composed, “Forgive me. I’ve done something stupid, I know that now. I see that I’ve hurt you, and I’m ready to grow and mature and become the best version of myself. Baby, I need you. Will you please call me? I know you’ll see this. Please, all I want is to talk. Even if you decide I don’t deserve a second chance. Please,” Jungkook closes his eyes, blinking back tears, “ARMY, please make sure they see this. Post it everywhere. I want them to know that I love them more than myself,” His voice cracks on his last word as he starts to break down, “Please,”

[echodrops]

The Promises I’m Making (2021 Edition)

So how about we all just pretend that 2020 did not happen and we all call it good to erase the year from our memories entirely? I’m game. But I’m also not going to let 2020 totally ruin a long-standing tradition (14 years as of 2021!), so here are my 50 resolutions for this year! When writing promises this year, I decided to go easy on myself, so if the promises aren’t quite as adventurous as normal, well... you know what happened.

2021 Promises

1) Complete the window well on the new basement window so I can finally call that project good.

2) Get the Utah house sprinklers working again to prevent dead grass.

3) Get the back fence back into place and the greenery trimmed.

4) Get the patio replaced before it honestly does just fall down on someone.

5) Get an official exercise routine including walking/jogging, please.

6) Related to the above, lose 15 pounds. Teaching from home basically meant I spent all of 2020 sitting in front of computer, not moving, and it shows...

7) Successfully use the new Roomba my parents got me to keep my floors cleaner. (So much... dog hair...)

8) Get my wisdom tooth removed. (Holy shit, please Echo...)

9) Get a haircut. (No, really, I didn’t get a haircut at all in 2020 and my hair is so long I’d make Sailor Mars jealous.)

10) Find a real doctor to renew my medicine prescriptions so I don’t have to use an asthma inhaler that expired two years ago... please... 

11) Fix the back Texas lawn because I let it get pretty bad.

12) For that matter, uhhhh, let me fix the front yard too.

13) Find a credenza for the foyer. Even if it’s expensive, just buy one already Echo.

14) Finish at least seven new books this year. (This goal feels so small, but when do I ever get time to just sit down and read nowadays?)

15) Organize my documents (especially student papers)—my desktop and documents folders give me nightmares just looking at them.

16) Get a decent paper shredder to shred old mail.

17) Talk to an HR rep about my retirement savings so that I can consolidate my retirement accounts.

18) Do at least one artwork to actually use that new paint program I bought.

19) Get the dishwasher fixed... even if I don’t quite know what’s wrong with it.

20) Pay my credit card down by at least 1/2. I made good progress this last year but I need to get it down a lot more before I’ll really be feeling good again.

21) Have all class changes and updates done before classes begin so I only have to worry about grading, not prep too. (There’s always new prep... I never get a break...)

22) Get the toilet in the Texas house fixed as well as the water heater checked because the shower in the back bathroom is cold, blech.

23) Help King lose weight to help with his arthritis. Aim for 85 pounds!

24) See a groove-billed ani. (It’s another type of bird.)

25) Make it to 3000 followers on tumblr. Can I do it? Maybe if I posted actual content once in a while…

26) Update HaaH at least once. Please. At least once...

27) Force Convince my father to fix the fixture in my parents’ front bathroom so my mother will finally stop complaining to me about the leaking sink.

28) Buy a new pair of shoes. I’ve literally worn the same pair of shoes almost every day for the last four years and it’s like... time to let them go.

29) Finish streaming the Fruits Basket remake with Kacchan.

30) Finish the other two QEP courses I was offered because bonus money...

31) Save up to finally buy one of those Ember heated tea mugs.

32) Help my parents save money on their bills by consolidating their services and making some calls to retention of these companies for them.

33) Get vaccinated for Coronavirus as soon as the vaccine is available.

34) Play the new TWEWY game (if it isn’t delayed)--I’m so excited!

35) Find a way to spend more time with my coworker. She does so much for me; I really need to repay her kindness more.

36) Do a video chat and bake with Kacchan since we can’t meet in person to bake together this year!

37) Learn to take better FFXIV screenshots. I need to learn how to use Gposers. XD

38) I will go birdwatching at least six times this year.

39) I will use the exfoliating mask and sugar scrubs I was given for Christmas. I will this time, I really will!!

40) I will get my kitty Gremory to the vet because there’s something not quite right with his claws and I want it checked out.

41) Get a bedframe for the new guest bedroom bed I was able to buy.

42) Eat fewer snacks in 2021--stop buying Oreos, Echo. You can do it.

43) Help ensure that the Todoroki family zine makes it out to everyone who ordered and we are able to close out that zine project strong!

44) Get all of the wolf mounts in FFXIV, finally. I never bothered to grind these at all lol.

45) I will help my mother go through all the family’s Christmas things because the house is so overloaded with Christmas stuff it’s actually becoming a big nuisance. (My family’s Christmas obsession could probably be a plot of a Christmas comedy movie at this point...)

46) Actually watch the Downton Abbey movie, finally. 

47) Take ten “really good” photographs this year.

48) Spend more time with my aunt; we don’t see each other nearly enough.

49) A promise provided by a friend: “Try a new Mexican dish. One that doesn’t have mole on it, for once.”

50) I will keep these promises. LOLLLLL.

[artificialqueens]

Come Home to My Heart, Chapter 3 (Lemyanka) - Plastiquedoll

read on ao3 ✨| chapter 1 2

A/N: hi! I hope you like this new chapter as it goes deeper on the feels™️ I really wanted to give the characters more background (and a little bit of angst whoops) and finally, there are new names dropping yay! Again, there’s a time skip of two years this time. Enjoy & thanks for reading <3

-3-

When Priyanka turned fifteen, she discovered new things she loved. She loved dying the tips of her hair with bright colors every two weeks and a half, she loved skateboarding, she loved being the center of attention and a little bit of a class-clown at school, she loved hanging out with her group of friends, she loved the phone calls with Lemon to catch up and talk shit about everyone…

“Okay, can you hear me now?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s better.”

Priyanka peeped through the hallway hoping no one would decide to interrupt them. She nervously removed the shiny red nail polish with her teeth as they tried to re-connect, if her mother saw her she would’ve scolded her on the spot. The landline phone was solid red plastic with buttons and wires, it was age-worn but at least it wasn’t like her grandparent’s phone with the rotary dial system or it would take hours to get all those area code numbers correct and get Lemon on the other side.

“Thank God. I’m literally inside the closet just like in The Parent Trap. I told my mom I was calling my grandma because last time our phone bill had several zeroes.”

Priyanka chortled and entangled the curly wire with his fingertips. “Sorry about that… so, you were saying… about the audition?”

“Oh, right! I’m trying to get into this dance academy that’s supposed to be the best of the best and the audition waiting list is a nightmare… but they called me the other day and said I’ll have shot in two weeks.”

“Oh. My. God. Lemon that’s awesome!”

“I know! I feel it, Pri. I know I can do it but… I don’t want to assume anything until I get there. I’m confident in my skills but what if they perceive that confidence as cockiness or something like that. I was talking to Jan the other day and she said-”

“Wait, who’s Jan?” Priyanka frowned before the unfamiliar name.

“Jan. Jan! My friend Jan? We have Biology and Math together, remember?”

“I don’t think I’ve heard her name before.”

“I’m sure I have mentioned her… anyway. Jan is madly talented –like, she can sing- and she auditioned for music school like a year ago and told me that…”

Jan. She hadn’t mentioned a Jan before… it was weird for Priyanka that knew all Lemon’s New Yorker friends’ names and she was pretty sure Lemon remembered all her friends’ names as well.

“… anyway, I’ll keep my head high and hope for the best. I’m training extra hard these days to make it. My muscles are sore and I can’t feel my legs right now but hey, no pain no gain.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great.”

“Thank you.” She paused as if she wanted to say something else, Priyanka could hear her breathing, but then she continued chattering. “Also, my mom got promoted again and now she bought a computer I can e-mail you the day of the audition. But tell me, how are things over there? Did the girls work their differences yet?”

“You know Scarlett, she won’t shut up and-”

“Priyanka, it’s dinner time.” Her mother announced from the kitchen.

She sighed. “Shit. I have to go or my mom is going to cut the phone wires. She says this time is for real.”

“Oh, okay… I’ll call you soon then.”

“Yes, please call me right after the audition or before if you wanna talk… you know. Break a leg or whatever… make sure is figuratively speaking, please.”

She heard Lemon’s giggle on the other line and something inside her went softer.

“I will… and I will be there for Christmas this year, I made my mom promise it.”

“Fingers crossed.” She said before hanging up.

When she looked at herself in the mirror she had a silly grin on her face that couldn’t be erased.

Lemon hadn’t been back in a long year and a half. After spending the first holidays after her parents’ divorce with her dad in Canada, she had to spend the next one with her mom in the Big Apple. Plus, her father got to travel to New York quite often those days and got to see her a lot. She sometimes sent things for Priyanka with him, a nice hoodie, a makeup bag, one of those stupid tourist t-shirts with the Statue of Liberty printed on it, sometimes a pair of dangling earrings or a simple letter and a picture of her. She treasured each of those little trinkets.

Priyanka was saving money from her allowance and was hoping to get a job soon so she could buy a car someday and visit her friend in the big city, they might even go on a road trip over the summer, it was a nice thought to hold onto until they could hang out again.

On the day of Lemon’s audition, Priyanka was restless. She got kicked out of one of her classes because she kept fidgeting, twitching, moving around, and chewing gum. It drove her teachers insane. Scarlett and Kiara mocked her from the window of the classroom and then got a warning as well.

Later that day she cleaned all her room to avoid thinking. She found several pictures of her and Lemon over the years –including that one time they tried Lemon’s mom makeup for the first time, Lemon was missing her two front teeth-, there were some photos from their first days of school and even Lemon at Priyanka’s plays. She was so pissed when she got that old lady role instead of the main character but she had managed to steal the scene anyway.

As the sun was setting, she didn’t know what else to do. She did the dishes without offering resistance and then got into an argument with her little sister who wanted to watch Hannah Montana while Priyanka just wanted to watch the new episode of America’s Next Top Model. She had to admit it though, the intro of Hannah Montana was kind of catchy (something she would never admit to her sister).

It was almost quarter to nine and she still didn’t have any news. There was a two-hour time difference with New York but still… it was gnawing her from the inside.

Right when Tyra was about to reveal which model got to stay for another week, the phone rang in the hallway and she couldn’t jump out of the couch fast enough.

«You have a phone call from-» Press one to accept, yeah, yeah, she knew that.

“Lemon?” She didn’t even wait for a «hello».

“Pri? Is it you?”

The sound of her voice brought her back to life, she could hear the sound of her heart beating again.

“Yes, it’s me! How did it go?”

“Oh my God, Pri… I’m calling you from a payphone in the middle of Times Square, this is insane. The girls lend me some cash to call you.” Priyanka could hear the sound of the traffic and even some giggles coming from outside of the phone.

“And? You’re killing me here, Lemz.” She had her fingers crossed even when she couldn’t see that gesture through the call and was holding the phone against her ear with her shoulder.

“It was so difficult I thought I was never going to learn the steps I’m literally so exhausted right now but…”

But.

“I got it, I got the spot!”

Priyanka started screaming.

“Priyanka!” Her mother shouted.

“Sorry…sorry!” She covered her mouth with her hand.

Lemon was cackling.

“Lemz, I might get in so much trouble for this but… Congratulations, I’m so happy for you!”

“Thank you.” She sounded truly happy, Priyanka wished she could see her right at that moment. “Jan, can you give me another quarter? Thanks, doll.”

That girl Jan again.

“So what are you girls are up to?”

“We’re going to get some pizza to celebrate. Jan is here as you heard, so are Goona, Rosé, Jackie… They say hi.”

“Tell them I said hi too.”

“She says hi… No, I’m not telling that, shut up…”

“What is it?”

“They are being assholes as usual… Listen, I have to go, I’m running out of coins and I still have to call my mom.”

“Okay, we’ll talk soon… I’m so happy for you… Love you.”

“Love you too! See you in a few weeks.”

“Yeah. I can’t wait.”

“Bye, Pri.”

She hung up but stood next to the phone for a moment, staring at it.

Just a few more weeks.

Priyanka kept begging her older brother to teach her how to drive. It took a few weeks of insistence until he gave up and the lessons started. They only stopped when the snow got too thick and the roads too slippery to practice. Still, by that time Priyanka was almost an expert. She needed to perfect her parking skills before turning sixteen and that would be it.

She also needed a car but that was the least important part.

“So when’s your girlfriend coming to town?” Scarlett asked.

Priyanka choked on her hot chocolate and coughed a couple of times. “Lemon’s not my girlfriend.”

Kiara rolled her eyes.

“Ah, yes, I can’t wait to finally meet her!” Juice –the latest addition to their group- said.

They were at the coffee shop, outside was freezing cold and the smell of fresh-baked pastries had dragged them inside the warm environment. Scarlett was having a black coffee while Priyanka and Kiara had their respective hot chocolate with marshmallows and Juice ordered a cappuccino with whipped cream and sprinkles on top.

“So?” Scarlett arched a brow.

“Her flight is booked for next week if the snowstorms allow them to fly.”

“I remember you two from primary school; they were joined by the hip, even before you shared diapers or something.” Kiara mocked.

“Oh, that’s right. You were in her classroom in kindergarten back when Ilona prevented everyone from playing with her.”

“That’s because Lemon spilled some paint over Ilona’s drawing… it was kids’ things. We all forgot when some random kid wet his pants or whatever.”

“And when did the crush began?”

Priyanka shot daggers at Scarlett with her eyes.

“I don’t have a crush on her. She’s literally my best friend, you guys are delusional.”

“Sure…” Kiara stirred her chocolate. “But it’s been what? Almost two years since she graced us with her presence?”

“Yeah, her parents didn’t want her to travel alone last time so her father flew to New York.”

“All jokes aside,” Scarlett changed her irksome ‘let’s pick on Priyanka’ tone for a minute. “Are you going to tell her about…?”

At the age of fifteen, Priyanka discovered she didn’t like kissing boys.

It had been at a lame party in a basement, her classmates had invited her and one of them suggested they should play seven minutes in heaven. Priyanka was about to skip it and refill her paper cup with cheap vodka and orange juice when she got dragged by the wrist and pushed into the closet with a guy from the hockey team. She suspected he had a crush on her for the longest time and this was instigated by his friends but the moment the door was locked, she panicked.

Her friends tried to get her out of there but there were a few underdeveloped brains and much muscle blocking the door. So she guessed she was doing it. The guy wasn’t that bad –she liked to believe- he told her they didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to and he was what most girls of the classroom referred to as «handsome». Priyanka shouted she was okay to calm down her friends and figured the best she could do was getting over it once and for all.

It was her first kiss.

The guy had rough lips and a slippery tongue and it was in the middle of all that smooching when his hand went under her lower back that she knew, she wasn’t enjoying it at all. She pushed the guy aside and used the back of her hand to clean her lips, she’d need some mouthwash as well. He asked if everything was okay but she was too condescending and told him that she was feeling dizzy.

The door was unlocked when he asked his friends to do it. Priyanka walked back –ashamed-to her group of friends as Kiara told them they were all disgusting and how stupid the game was. Priyanka called her brother from a phone upstairs and left soon after. For the first time, she was quiet on the way back home.

Later that night when she was laying on her bed in the darkness, she couldn’t stop thinking about it, thinking about how she was supposed to feel kissing that guy -any guy- or thinking about the fact that she wasn’t even remotely attracted to boys but mostly, thinking how she so wished that guy was someone else, how she wished that guy was a girl.

The following week at school the not-so-nice-guy had told everyone that Priyanka was basically a slut and if it wasn’t because she was so wasted, they could’ve gone to third base in that closet that very night. Priyanka wasn’t ashamed anymore, she was angry. Very angry. During lunch, she walked directly towards him and exposed him in front of everyone, not only denying the absurdity of those rumors but also stating that she would never even consider touching his small dick.

After that, Priyanka was done with guys, boys, and men in general.

She had a heart-to-heart conversation with her friends afterward but –to no one’s surprise- she ended up with the least heterosexual and most supportive group of friends in the world.

Still… she hadn’t been able to tell Lemon yet. She had tried but there was something about phone calls that didn’t help at all, she wanted to tell her in person, she wanted to see her face and know that everything was okay. And she planned to do it during her visit.

“I’ll try.” Priyanka stated, hoping the universe cooperated with her.

“Good. So you can make out under the mistletoe next.” There she was again.

“Okay, you two,” She pointed at Scarlett and Kiara. “you have to stop it or I’m going to do you guys dirty and you know I can.”

They started laughing, clearly taking Priyanka’s threaten lightly.

“That’s it! You,” She directed toward Kiara. “I have seen you drooling over Kyne the entire semester.”

Kiara went pale.

“And you two…” She turned back to Scarlett and Juice that were cackling sitting on the couch. “Yes, I’m talking to you, do you really believe I haven’t seen the way you look at each other, those stolen glances, the subtle touches? Please, is this a Jane Austen novel or what? You ain’t that smooth.”

“Hey! I didn’t say anything!” Juice protested.

Scarlett’s mouth turned into a thin line and her ears were suddenly pink colored. She murmured something Priyanka couldn’t catch but rhymed with «witch».

“Sorry girl, I warned you heads would roll and I’m not leaving any survivors if that’s what it takes.”

Scarlett put her hands up as a sign of surrender. “I respect it, you’re a bitch but I respect it.”

So that was the word she used.

Lemon would arrive at any minute now.

Her father was picking her up from the airport, they would have lunch at some fancy restaurant in the city center and then he’d drop Lemon at Priyanka’s house until sunset –that was when she had to leave again to have dinner with her relatives.

Priyanka kept moving her right leg, restless while sitting on the couch, eyes nailed on the window.

“Priyanka, take the trash out, it’s your turn.” Her mother told her casually as she directed upstairs.

“Mom!” She complained. “I’m doing important things.”

“You’re sitting on the couch.”

“My point exactly.”

Her mom gave her the glare. “Trash. Out. Now.”

She grumbled but did as asked.

Priyanka put on an extra thick coat over her jeans and knitted orange sweater, adjusted her wool socks and boots, and adventured to the exterior world of the Canadian winter wonderland. She only had to walk a few steps but she could feel her body freezing with the icy breeze. The snow was blinding white and she could hear the whistle of the wind blowing and the sound of her own teeth chattering.

She didn’t even hear the sound of the car stopping right at the entrance of her house nor the door closing or the steps.

She barely had time to turn around when an identified running person hit her like an asteroid. Lemon was small but she still got the strength to tackle Priyanka down with a hug. She didn’t even notice whether the snow was cold or not.

“Hey!” She was still down on the ground and needed to turn around once Lemon moved. “You’re here…”

The vision was dazzling. Lemon’s face, her eyes, her smile from ear to ear with full teeth showing, her blonde hair falling like a cascade over her rosy cheeks. It was as if she had been taken from an Andersen fairytale or a Tchaikovsky composition, ice queens and fairies fluttered around Priyanka’s head.

“I’m here! Can you believe it?”

She was still pretty much straddled on Priyanka, making the brunette blush and hoping she could blame it on the weather. Finally, Lemon got to stand up and helped her friend to get on her feet again.

Lemon was irretrievably tiny but there was something different about her since the last time they had seen each other. She looked less like the little girl Priyanka remembered and more like a teen pop star of the magazines they used to read with her slightly curled lighter hair, pink glossy lips, longer lashes… She was wearing a yellow sweater and a white puffy jacket with matching fake fur around the neck, corduroy pants, and cream boots. Even her glasses were stylish now.

“Wait, are you taller?” She observed.

“No, you just shrunk in the washing machine.”

Lemon elbowed her and then turned to wave at her dad that was still in the car.

“He told me he saw you in the supermarket the other day and asked what does your mom feed you with so I could get some too.”

Priyanka laughed at loud. “He got you there.”

“Ha. Ha.”

“But enough with my height, let’s go inside, I think I got snow on my socks and I don’t want to catch a cold or wait until another short person attacks me.”

“Hey, you said enough with the height.”

“No, no. I clearly said mine, not yours.”

Lemon rolled her eyes and there it was the old Lemon she knew so well, the exact dose just a little less sugary and a bit sour.

They went to Priyanka’s room, she shared it with her middle sister but she was currently busy practicing at music school with her cello for her end of the year concert, there were a few trophies, certificates, and distinctions on her side of the room meanwhile Priyanka’s was a collage of pictures with the girls, an album cover Avril Lavigne, one large poster she got from the local cinema when Spice World was brought back for a special feature and she forced her friends to watch it for the millionth time, some random doodles she did in class and of course, photos and postcards Lemon had sent to her.

The blonde smiled when she spotted a picture of them from their first day of primary school, their backpacks were bigger than them.

They removed the heavy coats, Priyanka changed her wet socks for new ones and a pair of slippers. Lemon was prying into the mess that was her desk, her fingers roaming through her school books, comic books, magazines, and scattered papers as if she tried to figure out if she still knew the owner of that space in the way she used to.

They sat on Priyanka’s bed on the nothing-like-Priyanka flowery blanket one of her aunts got her for a birthday. Priyanka’s mom dropped by to say hi and left a tray with two smoky cups of tea.

“I love your mom, she read my mind.” Lemon said, wrapping her hands around the warm porcelain.

“She’s being nice only because you’re around.” Priyanka took a sip of her tea. “I wonder if it’s a good time to tell her that I broke one of her flowerpots when I was practicing with the skateboard.”

“You’re the worst.” Lemon giggled.

“Certified. Three years in a row.”

The blonde shook her head. “Does she still make that incredible curry with potatoes?”

“Yeah, once in a while.”

“Oh my God… I tell you I’ve dreamt about it. You know I love Christina to dead but she can’t cook at all.”

Lemon, at some point after the divorce, had stopped addressing her mother as “mom” and now she called her by her first name.

“Do you remember she always made dinner with dry spaghetti and can sauce?”

“You laugh all you want but that’s my comfort food till this day.” Priyanka defended her.

“She doesn’t even cook it anymore, now we buy it all pre-cooked or already cooked. She might even forget how to boil water. Anyway, we’ve tried a thousand restaurants but I swear to you, Pri, no one can cook like your mom.”

“Well, I’m glad you’ve missed one of us.”

Lemon threw a pillow at her face.

“Of course I’ve missed you, dumbass.”

They did each other’s nails, Priyanka ended up with a light blue shade Lemon had brought for her and it was allegedly the same color as Tiffany’s, and the blonde insisted she had to draw a white ribbon to make it look like the jewel’s teeny tiny boxes.

From there, Priyanka could see everything. Lemon frowning, concentrated on her task, the way she batted her lashes, her pretty eyes, the little freckles she had over her nose, the shape of her cupid bow turned into an unintentional pout… her lips.

Priyanka gulped and then Lemon caught her staring.

“What is it?” She looked for some hint in Priyanka’s face. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No… I’m just making sure you don’t fuck up the design.”

Lemon rolled her eyes. “Don’t be silly. I’m almost done.”

While Priyanka’s nails got dried, they talked about school, classes they liked and disliked, teachers that they loathed or loved, then about their plans after turning sixteen, Priyanka told her about the driving lessons and Lemon told her she wanted to dress up as Cher Horowitz –of course- for her birthday and by the time Priyanka started with Lemon’s nails, she was reviving her dance audition.

“I tell you, Pri, there was a moment I doubt I’d got in. It was a flash but I felt it in my stomach I thought I was going to puke and mess everything up.”

“Hey, but you didn’t. I’m sure you nailed it.”

The blonde sighed. “Still, New York is like… everything’s so fast and everyone’s competitive to the point where you can’t get distracted or someone else will go after what you have. It’s nice to be here for a change, this is the only place I can really relax. It sucks that I can only stay for a week and five of those seven days I have to visit my dad’s relatives out of town.” She met Priyanka’s eyes. “I wish I could get to spend more time with you, you know?”

Priyanka’s heart skipped a beat. At that moment what she suspected but didn’t dare to say at loud became a reality, all those corny songs from the 90’s suddenly made sense, all the movies Hollywood had sold labeled as «romance» acquired a new meaning and she finally understood what «to have butterflies in one’s stomach» really felt like.

She liked Lemon. She liked her best friend…. And she liked her a lot.

That was the reason she hadn’t been able to tell her about what happened earlier that year at the party because it wasn’t just that she wanted to kiss a girl instead of a guy, she wanted to kiss one particular girl and she was right in front of her at that very moment.

They never warned her about it, they never told her that she would live normally until the day she’d realize she could harbor such feeling inside, that one day she’d just… know.

She almost dropped the nail polish bottle over the blanket.

“Oh, careful.” Lemon grabbed it just in time. She looked at her friend with concern in her eyes. “Pri, are you okay? You look… pale.”

“What? Ah, yeah… it’s nothing. I’m recovering from a cold I caught, that’s it…” She shook her head and took a breath of air. “I’m sorry, you were saying…”

“About the dance academy,” Lemon resumed her story. “the girls think I can make it through the next three years, and then I can major in dancing, I might even get a scholarship if I do outstandingly well.”

There was something, a little detail there that wasn’t… right.

“I hope you can visit me soon, you gotta meet the girls; you’re going to love them. Rosé and Jan are also Geminis, I guess that’s why I get along with them so well. Luckily, Jan would be my roommate if she gets her scholarship as well and…”

“Roommate?” Priyanka asked.

“Yeah… for college? We’re thinking about moving in together because rents are expensive even for the smallest studio apartment advertised. It’s a nightmare.”

“But wait… what happened with the plan? Our plan?”

Lemon opened her mouth to reply and then shut it.

“You forgot about it…”

“No! You know I didn’t… but… my options are wider now, I have to think forward and… did you seriously think-?”

“Yes. I did.” Priyanka didn’t even let her finish speaking.

Her soul had been just crushed.

“Pri, that’s not what I mean. We made that promise when we were ten, things have… changed since then.”

“Maybe they have changed for you but I’m still stuck here, I’m still counting on our plans… our promises. I’m still counting on you. The only thing that has changed is you and your pompous New Yorker glamorous lifestyle.”

“Oh, so it was so easy for me, right? It’s not like I had to attend a school where I didn’t know anyone, being the new girl and sitting alone during lunchtime for months while going through my parents’ divorce… I hated it the first months, Priyanka, I really did and I swear that talking to you on the phone and dancing were the only things that kept me alive…” Her voice cracked. “It wasn’t until I met my friends that I felt like I could do it… that it wasn’t completely waste of time and that I wasn’t a totally useless person.”

“Lemon… you never said-”

There was a single sparkly tear falling down her cheek.

“Well, I hope you’re happy now. There you have it, my life isn’t a glamorous as you thought, is it?”

“It’s because that’s what you’ve told me! Maybe if you didn’t sugarcoat things I could’ve helped you…”

“And do what? And then what? You’d get tired of me with all those problems and we’d eventually drift apart. I’d become a burden for you.”

“What? Where did you get that from? Let me be your friend, that’s what friends do… they help each other during the rough times too, they tell each other things.”

“Oh, and you surely have told me everything that’s being going on here.”

Priyanka remained silent.

“I still talk with some people from school here and there… why didn’t you tell me about what happened at that party?”

“Lemon, that’s completely different…”

“Is it? Because from my perspective, it looks like we’re hiding things from each other now.”

“And breaking promises as well for what it seems.”

Lemon looked at her, she seemed hurt and it broke Priyanka’s heart to see her like that.

She wanted to reach her and hold her hand, hug her and tell her that everything was alright but at the same time, she was angry. She couldn’t have it both ways. It wasn’t fair.

Priyanka’s mother called them from downstairs; Lemon’s father was there to pick her up.

“I better go.” She grabbed her coat. “I’ll be back in five days if you want… whatever.”

She was gone before Priyanka could say something and frankly, she felt that if she opened her mouth it was going to get worse. It wasn’t until the girl left the house and she heard the car getting lost in the distance that she collapsed on her bed and started crying on the closest pillow she had.

Five days after, it was a New Year already but little had changed since they last met.

Lemon visited Priyanka’s house only to discover she wasn’t there.

“Could you please tell her I came to say goodbye?” She bit her inner cheek to contain a sob.

She had a flight to take back to New York.

Priyanka had taken the family’s car without permission and she had driven for a few hours, making sure there was no chance of their paths crossing. It was petty; she knew she was being childish avoiding her rather than talk things through and she was going to regret it and hate herself later, damn, she was going to get grounded for months but who cared? At that moment, the only thing that was on her mind was that she couldn’t see Lemon.

Not like that.

She did her wrong but she was partly right. Priyanka wasn’t being honest with her and she couldn’t tell her all the truth to restore their friendship.

She couldn’t tell her that she was gay and that she was in love with her because it would change it all.

It would destroy their friendship entirely.

Lemon would never reciprocate those stupid feelings of her.

Maybe if she put enough distance between them, those feelings would simply fade, go away, and right now, New York sounded distant enough.

If it was on her to do the hardest part for the sake of all the years they’ve been together, then she was going to do whatever it’d take.

Tears scorched her eyes.

At the age of fifteen, Priyanka loved her best friend Lemon but she also hated her.

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Super: Super Hero

I guess I should provide my hottt takes on the new DBS movie.  A few days ago, they did this video for Comic Con announcing the title of the movie and teasing some details about the story.  

I gotta say, this is exactly why I’ve never had any interest in Comic Con.    They put this on YouTube, I guess because of the pandemic, but any other year they would have gathered an enormous crowd and made them stand in line for hours to watch all of this in person.   I live in the Midwest, and when I went to comic book conventions it was for the sole purpose of rummaging through back issue bins.   SDCC was always promoted like the biggest and most important convention in the U.S., but all I ever heard about it were trailers for movies and TV shows.   Or, like, you had to go to Comic Con because that was the only way to get an exclusive Orange Lantern Hal Jordan action figure or something.   They would always hype up all of this useless stuff and I just never heard of anything so important that I was willing to fly out to San Diego and stand in line for three hours for it.   So now SDCC peels back the curtain with this video, about something I’m fairly interested in, but it’s really not that big a deal.  I found out most of the information on Twitter before I even knew to watch this video.

But I’m just not that hyped about trailers or sneak peaks or sneak peaks at trailers.   Which is probably why I waited this long to talk about it.  

I’ll just go through the video.   The first four minutes are Hironobu Kageyama performing “Cha La HEAD Cha La” live on the stage.   That’s a pretty epic way to open this, but I feel like it oversells the importance of this event.  You finish watching him and you think you’re about to see the movie itself, instead of hearing from the people who made it.  

Next we have Sascha, the host of this panel.   He speaks better English than I do, but I’m not sure what the point was in having any of this in English since he has to talk to the guests in Japanese.   Pretty much all of the important information in this video is in Japanese, and I think everyone understood that going in.   I guess it does give an international feel.  If I spoke another language as fluently as Sascha, I’d want to show it off too.

4:56 is where Masako Nozawa comes out, and she’s just a joy to watch.   She looks like this sweet grandmotherly figure, all warm smiles and then she busts out “Ossu! Ora Goku!” and immediately sounds like a badass. 

Guest #2 is Akio Iyoku, Toriyama’s editor.   Not to be confused with the awesome editor who poo-pooed all the androids and Cell’s semiperfect form.    That was Yu Kondo.  Iyoku comes out dressed like Goku, but he can’t talk like him so he’s immediately second-tier. 

Guest #3 is Norohiro Hayashida, Producer from Toei Anaimation.   He is also rocking the Goku cosplay, which would be a faux pas in most fandoms, but he can just say that he’s cosplaying as Krillin or Yamcha, which gives him greater nerd credibility because those are more obscure references.

Around 8:30 we really start getting into this, and they show us a model sheet of Piccolo.  Is Piccolo being in the new movie a big surprise?   He had a dry spell in the mid-90s, but he’s been in every Dragon Ball movie made in this century so far.   And it’s not like they changed his look, like when they put Goku and Vegeta in those adorable coats last time.   I’m not complaining about any of this.  It’s nice to see that a) Piccolo is confirmed for new movie and b) they didn’t tinker with his appearance.  

All I’m saying is that they only brought up this model sheet to show off how they’re using his color scheme from the manga as opposed to the anime.   Hence the red belt and the yellower arm sections.   In the anime, the belt was always blue, and his biceps were hot pink instead of off-yellow.   But it’s such a subtle thing that even Sascha didn’t pick up on it.   It’s like they were hyping up the fact that it’s such a minor change.    I like it, don’t get me wrong, but it’s a weird flex.   Also, he looks like he still has his five-fingered anime hands, so I’m not that impressed.   Give us four fingers, Toei!

Sascha asks Masako Nozawa what she thinks about Piccolo and she just starts off with “He was Gohan’s teacher,” and talks about how strong and cool he looks.    She speaks of him like he’s a family member, because she’s awesome.

Next up, we have Pan, and now we’re talking.  The scuttlebutt is that this was the character Toriyama was referring to when he spoke of an “unexpected character”.  And I guess Pan fits the bill, since I don’t think anyone expected her to be this old in the movie.   I understand this is her kindergarten uniform, so she’d have to be about five or six years old.  I love Masako Nozawa’s reaction here.   Throughout this video, you can see that Goku and Gohan aren’t just roles to her.   

I’ll put on my fanboy hat here and point out that Pan’s age may imply that this movie takes place after the final episode of Dragon Ball Z.    She looks older here than she did when she fought Wild Tiger, at any rate.   So far, the entire Dragon Ball Super franchise has been set during the ten-year gap between the Buu crisis and the finale of Z.    So everyone has been wondering if DBS would move beyond End of Z, or whether Akira Toriyama even still recognizes the continuity of those final chapters.   They were supposed to be ten years of peace, but all the battles in DBS say otherwise.   Also, I’m pretty sure Pan and Bulla’s ages in the DBZ finale don’t line up well with their appearances in Super, but I’ve never studied it very closely.  

So this might be set post End of Z, or this might be Toriyama retconning End of Z altogether.  I’m interested to see which way this goes. 

Here’s Krillin, still working for the police, although his uniform looks more like Bronze Age Lex Luthor than anything else. Like Piccolo, the “big” story here is that he’s been tweaked to resemble the coloring in the manga, so his sclera are now white instead of fleshtoned.  

Never mind that, here’s Piccolo’s house.  This is probably the breakout star of this video, because I think everybody is excited to see Piccolo’s house.   Because it’s new lore!  No one even knew if he had one or not.   It was a running gag in DBZ Abridged that he was homeless.   I mean, congratulations to Krillin for getting his eyes colored in right, but that doesn’t tell me anything new about the character.  But Piccolo’s house is a big friggin’ deal.   What’s inside of there?  What’s on the second floor?   Check out his mailbox.   What kind of mail does he get?  It’s exciting.  

Nozawa even points out that she and her co-workers would talk about this sort of thing in the recording studio.    That’s a big deal to me, that the voice actors think about the same kind of stuff that I do as a fan.   

Around 15:30, they start talking about Toriyama’s commitment to the making of this movie, which seems like a weird thing to focus on, because he wrote the screenplay to the last two movies.   Did anyone think he was stepping back? I get the impression that there’s still some hard feelings about the failure of Dragon Ball Evolution, in the sense that they want to reassure everyone that we’re still in good hands.   I suppose one of these days, Toriyama won’t be as heavily involved in a project like this, so maybe it makes sense for Toei and Shueisha to make it clear that today is not that day.

On the other hand, Toriyama was just as involved with Broly as he was with Resurrection F, and Broly was a much better film.  The Dragon Ball Super manga seems to have revived the old argument over who’s to blame when the story is a letdown, and I think that misses the point.  Look, the Zamasu arc sucked, and I don’t care who wrote what parts, or whether Toriyama had a bad idea or whether he handed a good idea off that was badly executed.   They can hash that out behind the scenes if they want to.  

About 19 minutes in, they show us this model sheet, and refuse to explain who these guys are or what they’re doing in the movie.   Are they villains?  Who knows?  I’d like to think they’re important characters to the story, but I have my doubts that Krillin will have a big part to play.  

At 20 minutes, they announce the title of the movie, and I’m not very thrilled with “Dragon Ball Super: Super Hero.” They can talk it up as much as they want, and maybe the title is relevant to the plot, but it’s just too many uses of the word “super”.   Especially when they’ve got another series called “Super Dragon Ball Heroes” on YouTube. 

Then we get this teaser trailer, or whatever you want to call it, with a CG Goku hopping around and doing his classic fighting pose.  Now, for some reason, lots of people concluded that this means the entire movie will be done in this CG style, which has led to a debate over whether or not that’s a good thing.  If they can make the whole movie look this slick, then I’m fine with it.  Hell, I’m not picky.   They could animate the whole thing in Yukio Ebisawa style, and I’d be thrilled. 

But I’m not understanding where people got the idea that it’s definitely going to be a 100% CGI movie.   They never spell that out in this video, and they even go out of their way to admit that this shot of Goku isn’t actually from the movie.   So is there some other source people are referring to, or did everyone just jump to conclusions?  

And that’s pretty much it.   I don’t mean to sound negative on this panel, but I don’t feel like they revealed very much, unless this is actually going to turn out to be Piccolo and Pan having an adventure by themselves.    I think Toei could make a movie like that and it would be a success, but I have my doubts that they’d go in that direction.  If this is going to turn out to be another big slugfest with Vegeta, then I’m down for that too, but don’t show me Piccolo’s house if the movie’s going to be about Vegeta punching a guy. 

Bottom line: I’m still looking forward to this, but I don’t feel like I know much more about the movie than I did before.   Well, except for the part about Piccolo’s house.  I’m looking forward to seeing the inside of it.

[therainroguefanfiction]

🎃 Frightful October Act I, #3 ~ Movie Marathon (Nathan Prescott)

📑 Table of Contents

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Friendship, Halloween

Word Count: 2,876

Pairing: Reader x Nathan

World: Life is Strange

───── ⋆⋅🎃⋅⋆ ─────

The bell rang, signaling the end of class. You stretched your arms above your head, your back cracking. For some reason, the day felt like it had passed by agonizingly slow, and you still had another class before you could go home. Unlike most of the students that attended Blackwell Academy, you didn’t live in the dorms on campus – your apartment was a five-minute walk away. The main reason you chose not to live in the dorms is that you didn’t much care to be brought into all the drama that the students thrived off of.

You gathered your things before stepping out of the classroom. Your best friend was waiting near the door, his fingers flying across the keyboard on his phone. Sean Jamison stood at five-foot-five, his thin frame covered by a pair of jeans and a chocolate brown sweater. His blonde hair looked like it had been cut using a bowl, and his brown eyes shined with mischief. He was a technology geek that planned to major in computer science and game design when he graduated.

He glanced over at you, pushing his square glasses up with his middle finger. “Last period is math, your favorite.”

You scowled at him as you passed. “Don’t remind me. We can’t all be number genius’ like you.”

Sean chuckled, throwing his arm over your shoulder. “Don’t worry, the number genius won’t let you fail!”

“You better not. I can’t afford to flunk because of one subject.” You entered the classroom, making a beeline for the table at the back but Sean tightened his grip, pulling you back.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, Y/N.” he wagged his finger in your face. “How can you learn properly sitting in the back of the class?”

“I am not sitting in the front,” you deadpanned.

Sean frowned, pushing up his glasses. The fluorescent lights reflected off of the lenses, hiding his eyes. “Then we can compromise by sitting in the middle.”

You didn’t care for that, either, but it was better than sitting up front. There were four rows of three desks, allowing two people per desk. You scanned the room before choosing the third row from the front, sitting under one of the large windows. Sean sat beside you, focusing on his mobile game.

There were still a few minutes before class began, so you turned your attention to the window. It was the beginning of October, the sky overcast as a chilly breeze knocked leaves from the trees, colored in various shades of brown and orange. The school grounds had been covered in leaves. If you didn’t watch your step, it was easy to slide and lose your footing, hitting the ground. Just ask Miss Grant, the science teacher. She had been peddling another petition to passing students and wasn’t paying attention to the ground. Too bad she was wearing a skirt that day – her underwear choice had been the talk of the school for a week.

You felt eyes watching you and you glanced at Sean, but he was still buried in his game, hiding the phone between the desk and his lap so the teacher wouldn’t see it when she entered. You scanned the room, eyes locking with those belonging to the one and only Nathan Prescott. He was sat at the opposite end of the class in the back row. When he realized you caught him staring, he snapped his head in the opposite direction.

You frowned, turning to the teacher as she entered the room.

As expected, class was long and boring, and you found yourself zoning in and out more than a couple of times. Sean was going back and forth between taking notes and elbowing you in the side whenever the teacher sent you a pointed look. By the time class ended, your side was sore – you were sure it would bruise by tomorrow.

“What are your plans for the weekend?” he questioned as he shoved his books into his bag.

You hummed, thoughtfully, doing the same. “I’ll probably just watch a few horror movies and sleep.”

He tsked. “So much youth, wasted.”

“And what are your brilliant plans?” you scoffed, but immediately regretted it as his eyes lit up.

“Isn’t it obvious? Dino Murder Force 2 is finally being released tomorrow and I’m going to camp out in front of the store tonight so I can get my copy, then I’m going to spend the entire weekend beating the game I’m going to be the first to write an in-depth review!”

You stared at him, blankly.

He had said all of that without pausing for air, so he huffed when he finished the run-on sentence. Saying nothing, you slung your bag over your shoulder and left the room, ignoring Sean as he called after you, “You don’t understand the brilliance that is Dino Murder Force, Y/N!”

“Stop yelling, Mr. Jamison!” The teacher scolded him.

You chuckled. He was such a weirdo, but he was your weirdo.

You stepped outside, a blast of cold air stinging your skin. Autumn, in your opinion, was the calmest, most peaceful time of year. There seemed to be less drama around this time, and that was something you appreciated. Halloween was pretty cool, too.

“Hey, Y/N, wait up!”

You paused near the gate, looking over your shoulder.

Nathan was jogging toward you, his usual cocky expression switched out for a nervous one.

“What’s up?” you asked, softly.

“Can I… walk you home?” he asked, shifting from foot to foot. He stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets.

‘It’s only a five-minute walk, it can’t hurt…’ you contemplated it for a moment before nodding. “Sure,” You walked side by side, his hand occasionally bumping against your own. It brought back a flood of memories.

The first time you had met Nathan, you were in kindergarten. Back then, he was a pretty shy kid, but he was so cute that the girls in class naturally migrated towards him. He had this polarizing aura that pulled people in. You appreciated how he tried to help others the best that he could. Deep down, though, he was already beginning to harbor feelings of self-doubt and loathing.

One day during recess, you chased a rubber ball that had been kicked to the back of the building. That’s where you found him, curled up against the building as his small body shook with silent sobs. Instinctively, you rushed over to him and brought him into your arms, running your hand through his hair as you told him it would be okay. That was the first time you had spoken to him and, from that day onward, Nathan stuck to you like glue. You were his best friend, the rock that kept him grounded.

Having him depend on you so strongly made you feel needed and happy, and you oftentimes dropped whatever you were doing to accommodate him and provide comfort when he was upset, which was slowly becoming more common as you both grew.

As your relationship deepened, his parents started to take notice of you. They didn’t think that you were good enough to be friends with Nathan, and they were sure you were just trying to get to his money. Your family had no social standing, and your single mom worked three jobs just to make ends meet. In their eyes, you were trash, but they always acted pleasant on the rare occasions you met them. You had no idea how they truly viewed you.

Nathan never told you how his parents put you down and insulted your mother, or how they pressured him to stop spending time with you, but you knew him like the back of your hand and you knew he was beginning to change. The shy, kind little boy that you had become so close to was starting to morph before your eyes, but Nathan Prescott did not morph into a beautiful butterfly, he morphed into a monster – arrogant, entitled, and full of hatred.

The time you spent together became less and less frequent until, in the second year of middle school, he completely cut you out of his life. You tried talking to him, to demand an answer, but he was always surrounded by his new friends. Every time you got close, they would make fun of you and Nathan would just stand there, acting like you didn’t exist.

You became invisible to him.

While you were friendly with the other kids in your class, Nathan had been your only friend. Now you were left alone.

Shortly after, your mom began quite ill after pushing herself to keep working. She ended up being hospitalized. It was at this time that you met Sean, who found you in a similar way that you had first met Nathan.

Sean was a loner, preferring to tinker with his games and gadgets over talking to his peers, but he knew that you didn’t have any friends and he recognized that you were very distressed. Rather than bring you into his arms like you had to Nathan all those years ago, his way of comforting you consisted of forcing a handheld game into your lap and making you play with him. It wasn’t conventional, but it helped.

Your mom passed away a month after you started at Blackwell.

Nathan came to the funeral, returning to the empty apartment with you. He held you, allowing you to cry your heart out until you finally fell asleep, clutching his shirt in your fist. When you woke up the next morning, he was gone. There was a thick envelope left on the table – ‘sorry’ was the only thing written on it. Inside was a key to an apartment on the other side of town and fifteen grand in cash.

You remember thinking how typical it was that he thought cash could solve everything.

You didn’t want to accept the money, but he gave you no chance to return it. The apartment had been paid for in advance for the next four years, but you still had bills to pay and needed to buy food, not to mention the tuition for Blackwell. No job given to a high school student would be enough to pay for everything, so you did end up using some of the money, but you used it sparingly, only taking out enough for the bare necessities. In the meantime, you had gotten a part-time job at Two Whales diner.

A couple weeks later and you found another envelope in your mail. It read: ‘Quit your job. I’ll send you a monthly payment – N.’ Enclosed was fifteen hundred dollars.

You didn’t like this at all, but Nathan did what he wanted, and what he wanted he got. He had you fired from your job, knowing you wouldn’t quit on your own. You considered confronting him about everything, but that would require stepping out into the spotlight and you didn’t need that kind of drama in your life.

Even after all that, he still treated you like you didn’t exist, despite the monthly payment that was put in your mailbox every month.

So why the sudden change? Why was he suddenly approaching you after all this time?

Nathan frowned at your thoughtful expression. He knew he had royally screwed up the best thing he ever had but was it too late for him to fix things? “Hey, we’re here.”

You snapped out of your thoughts, smiling sheepishly. “Oh, right. Thanks…” you paused at the gate, hesitating. “Do you… want to come in?”

He nodded, not wanting to leave you just yet. Nathan followed you to the third floor, his mind running wild – he couldn’t remember a time that he felt so nervous.

You unlocked the door and stepped aside to let him enter. “Want something to drink?”

“Water,” he added as an afterthought. “Please.”

You stepped into the small kitchen attached to the living area, pouring out a glass of ice water for him and ice tea for yourself. He sat on the couch as you set the drinks on the coffee table, absentmindedly playing with the black rope around his right wrist.

Your eyes widened when you saw it and you reached out, holding his wrist so you could see it better. “You kept this?” It was a simple piece of rope with a yin-yang symbol tied through the front of it. You made it for him in fifth grade as a birthday present.

He quickly pulled his wrist away, his cheeks tinting as he tugged the sleeve of his jacket down. “It was a gift from you, of course I kept it.”

Those words went straight to your heart, making it increase in speed as it grew warm. You looked up at his face, taking in his appearance for the first time in a long time. His brown hair was slicked back but messy, as if he had run his hands through it nervously. His blue eyes, once bright and full of life, were dull and he had deep bags under them from a mixture of stress and lack of sleep. Overall, he looked exhausted and aged.

Seeing him in such a state made you frown.

“Stop staring at me,” he muttered, starting to feel self-conscious. People around him were constantly complimenting him, saying how gorgeous he is and how handsome, but he wasn’t very good at reading people, so he couldn’t tell if they were being genuine. Whenever you used to compliment him, it always felt genuine and made him feel happy, but when everyone else did it, it felt empty.

“Have you been sleeping, Nathan?” It was the first time you had said his name in so long, it made his breath catch in his throat. His body started to shake despite himself. “Nathan, what’s wro – ” you squeaked in surprise when he threw himself at you, sending you both to the ground. His arms were tight around your body as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. You gently rubbed his back, free hand running through his soft hair. It had been so long since you last held him, but your body remembered the position perfectly.

“I’ve missed you… so goddamn much…” he sobbed, clutching you tighter. “I didn’t want to, to push you away… I had to do it! I couldn’t… I couldn’t let you sink with me…”

“Oh, Nathan,” you chided, softly. “You’ve always been such an idiot. You’re my best friend, I would have happily sank with you. And you know what? I would have dragged you back to the surface.”

“You’re too good… for me…” he cried.

You hummed, thoughtfully. “I don’t think so.”

It took a while for him to calm down and stop shaking, but you didn’t mind. Even after everything that had happened, he was still the most important person in your life. You would always be there to catch him when he fell.

“Can I… spend the night with you?” he asked, softly. He sounded like a child, lost and scared. The shy boy flashed in your mind.

“Of course you can,” you smiled, gently pushing him back. He pulled away from you, sliding back until he was leaning against the couch. His eyes were red and swollen, but they held more life than they had earlier. You pulled yourself to your feet, feeling pinpricks in your back and butt, unhappy about being squished against the wooden floor for so long. You glanced at the clock – it was eleven-ten. “Hey, Nathan?”

He glanced up at you.

“There’s a Halloween marathon starting in twenty minutes. Wanna watch it with me?”

Nathan smiled, remembering all the times you had binge-watched movies as kids. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

You returned the smile before heading into the kitchen to make some popcorn. When you returned, Nathan had curled up on the couch with a blanket he had taken from your bedroom. He held one side of the blanket up and you squeezed in beside him, holding the bowl up as he flung it over your body. You turned the TV on and he moved closer, finding comfort in your warmth.

The first movie began, a cheap knock off of A Nightmare on Elm Street. He reached for your hand but hesitated. You smiled, slipping your hand into his and interlocking your fingers with his.

After two movies, Nathan’s eyes started to droop. He fought against the sleep invading his mind, not wanting this moment to end, but his body and mind were exhausted. His head fell onto your shoulder, breath evening out. You smiled, turning down the TV so the screams wouldn’t disturb his rest.

You didn’t know what tomorrow would bring – if he would go back to ignoring you or if you could be friends again, but that didn’t matter to you at the moment. You had your best friend at your side and that’s all that mattered to you.

You brought his hand to your chest, holding it with both hands. ‘No matter what happens, I will always be here for you, Nathan Prescott,’ You pressed a kiss to his palm and he smiled in his sleep. For the first time since he was a child, he slept peacefully through the night.

───── ⋆⋅🎃⋅⋆ ─────

[unfolded73]

Husbands: Two Years In (4/5) - schitt’s creek ff

This fic is complete, posting every other weekday. While I'm including it as part of the "Labels" series, the preceding fics are not required reading. Previous fics in this series: Boyfriends; “I Love You”, Partners, Fiancés

Warning: This fic deals with depression as one of its major topics.

Special warning for this chapter:  This chapter comes with a referenced underage sex warning, although Justin has turned 18 by this point. The sex is only discussed in somewhat vague terms with Patrick, but there is a 4-year age difference between participants that some readers might find upsetting.

Rated Explicit, this chapter 4737 words. (ao3)

Thanks to @high-seas-swan for cheerleading and B13_MaybeThisTime for many valuable comments (and also cheerleading).

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 4: Autumn

The first thing that struck Patrick when he awoke was the quality of the light in their bedroom. The days were getting shorter, so why was the sun through the window so bright? He fumbled for his phone, saw the time was 9:23, and sat up with a start. He should have been at the store an hour ago, he thought, his heart starting to pound.

There was also a text notification from David, and he thumbed over it to read it.

David: You turned your alarm off 3 times so I figured you needed to sleep. I’m opening and you can come in whenever. ❤️ you.

Patrick quickly responded with I’m up now, sorry, a stab of guilt in his chest as he fought his way out from under their warm comforter. It was his job to make sure the store opened on time, just as it was David’s to close up without Patrick a few nights a week so that Patrick could get a head start on errands. But now David was carrying his weight because Patrick couldn’t manage to get out of bed on time. He berated himself throughout his morning routine and in the car all the way to the store. He decided on a quick detour to the café to pick up a coffee for David as thanks.

While he waited for Twyla to get his drinks, he spotted Ronnie across the room and gave her a half-hearted wave. She appeared to be finishing up, and she made her way over to the counter slowly, the check for her breakfast in hand.

“How are you, Patrick?”

“Good,” he said, even though it wasn’t anywhere close to the truth.

“Hey, I meant to tell you after the last council meeting but it slipped by mind. There’s an LGBTQIA+ group over in Thornbridge that meets up once a month that you might be interested in. I hadn’t heard anything about them in ages — thought they might have disbanded after marriage equality made some people think there wasn’t anything left we needed to fight for. Back in the day they used to organize protests, letter writing campaigns, things like that. I guess they still do.”

“Oh. That’s cool,” Patrick said, unsure where Ronnie was going with this. Wondering how she managed to rattle off all those letters so easily.

Ronnie huffed, annoyed. “You mentioned that you had missed out on the activism part of it all. This would be an opportunity for that if you were interested.”

Patrick frowned. “Thornbridge is a long drive.”

“Here you go, Patrick,” Twyla said, setting two to-go cups down in front of him.

Rolling her eyes, Ronnie handed her check to Twyla to ring up at the cash register. “Suit yourself.”

“No, I’ll… I’ll definitely look them up,” he said. “Thanks for telling me.”

“Uh huh,” she responded, her skepticism that he would do any such thing obvious in her voice. He couldn’t really blame her for that. He was skeptical too. Waving goodbye to Ronnie’s back as she left the café, Patrick sighed, then paid Twyla for the drinks.

He gave David a wincing smile as he entered the store. David was dealing with customers at the register, so Patrick set the drinks down on the counter and went over to see if any of the people browsing in the back of the store needed any help. Guilt churned in his stomach again, that David had been forced to come in early and work the store alone just because Patrick was too lazy to wake up on time.

When the store had finally emptied out from that little mid-morning rush, Patrick made his way over to David.

“I’m really sorry, David,” he said, picking up his tea from where it was still sitting in the cardboard tray.

That was David’s cue to be dramatic, to pile on with some teasing scorn for burdening him with opening the store. Patrick would feel perversely better if David flopped down on the counter right now and moaned about how much he had suffered this morning. Instead he gave Patrick a sweet smile and said, “Don’t worry about it.”

It was somehow worse. He didn’t want David’s generosity.

“I can close this evening.”

“You don’t have to do that. Closing is my job on Bethany’s days off,” David said.

“And opening is mine. So let me make up for this morning,” Patrick said, some of his testiness coming out in his voice.

“We don’t need to keep score. You’ve been really tired lately.”

“That’s not an excuse!” He was almost shouting. “David, just let me close.”

Now David looked a little annoyed. “Fine. Oh, also I took care of the car insurance payment.”

Patrick narrowed his eyes. “The what?”

“They called and said they hadn’t gotten our payment? So I paid them over the phone; I hope that’s okay.”

Patrick winced. There was a stack of unopened mail on his desk at home, he could see it in his mind’s eye, and he was pretty sure that the car insurance bill was in that stack. “Sorry, I guess I forgot.” He felt the urge to shout at David even though it wasn’t his fault, even though David had once again done something to help him. Or maybe because David had done something to help him.

“It’s no problem,” David said matter-of-factly. Then his eyes lit up. “Oh! And Ray called. He said there’s a retail space in downtown Elmdale that just opened up that we might be interested in.”

Doing his best to suppress the swell of panic he felt at that news, Patrick moved to go back into the storeroom behind the counter. “Uh huh.”

“He said it looked about the right size for Rose Apothecary,” David continued, following him. “What do you think? Should we go take a look at it?”

“Maybe,” Patrick said, shuffling a stack of invoices on the table.

David huffed. “Can you not show even the tiniest bit of enthusiasm?”

Patrick looked up and stared at him, caught between anger and guilt, when his phone chimed with a text. Patrick pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at the screen.

Justin 🌈: i might need yr help

“Hang on, I’ve got to respond to this,” Patrick said as he typed, What’s up?

There was a pause, and then dots finally appeared as Justin typed. “Who is it?” David asked, sounding annoyed.

Justin 🌈: how long would it take you to get to toronto from where you live

“What the hell?” Patrick muttered as he typed: 4 hours, why?

“What’s the matter?” David asked.

“Justin is asking me how long it would take me to get to Toronto.”

“Your cousin Justin?”

“Yeah,” Patrick said as the next message appeared.

Justin 🌈: i’m stuck here and i don’t want to call my parents

“Okay, I’m calling him,” Patrick said, clicking the header at the top of the text chain and then clicking the call button.

“Hi,” Justin said when he answered, that tiny word somehow sounding ashamed.

“What do you mean, you’re stuck in Toronto?” Patrick asked without preamble.

“I took a bus here? And now I kind of don’t have anywhere to stay that’s… umm… safe.”

The bus trip from Patrick’s hometown to Toronto must have taken forever, he thought. “Do your parents know where you are?”

The phone speaker crackled with Justin’s heavy sigh. “They think I went with my friend Alison on a weekend trip to a waterpark in Niagara.”

“So you’ve woven a complicated web of lies is what you’re saying,” Patrick said, meeting David’s eyes. David grimaced with a mixture of sympathy and intense curiosity.

“I came here to meet someone, but…” Justin sighed again, and this time it sounded laden with tears.

Patrick took the phone away from his ear to look at the time. “If I leave now I might be able to be there by 2:30. Can you text me with where you’ll be?”

“Are you going to call my parents?” Justin asked.

Patrick hesitated. He did need to tell them, but he didn’t know what was going on yet, and he didn’t want Justin to change his mind and disappear into the city, never to be found. “Let’s talk about that later,” he said. “For now, just let me know where you are.”

As soon as he’d disconnected the call, he met David’s eyes regretfully.

David waved his hand to dismiss the apology that he could probably read on Patrick’s face. “Go.”

“He said he took a bus all the way to Toronto to meet someone, and it sounds like something bad happened.” Patrick said, his mind immediately going to all kinds of dark places.

David nodded like he had guessed as much from hearing Patrick’s side of the conversation. “I’ve been there. Well, in my case, it was taking the jet without permission to Berlin, but same idea. Go get him. I’ll take care of the store today.”

The drive felt interminable. Patrick tried to distract himself with an audiobook so that he wouldn’t think about the kind of man that would lure a boy to Toronto, and what that man might have done to him. It didn’t work. He eventually turned the book off, realizing that he hadn’t taken in a word of the story, and switched to music.

At the end of three and a half hours (he’d exceeded the speed limit a lot), Patrick parked in front of the diner that Justin had sent him the address for and went inside. He spotted the boy immediately in a booth, hunched over his phone, and Patrick steeled himself, walked over, and slid into the booth across from him.

“Do you want me to get you something to eat before we get on the road?” Patrick asked.

Justin shrugged. “You don’t have to do that.”

Patrick plucked one of the laminated menus out of the holder and opened it. “All I’ve had today is toast. I need to eat anyway. Are you sure?”

“Did you call my parents?” Justin asked.

“Not yet.”

Sighing, Justin grabbed a menu for himself.

Once a bored waitress had come over and taken down their orders for burgers and fries, Patrick leaned back in the booth and folded his arms. “Tell me what happened.”

Justin seemed braced for an argument, and he came out swinging. “Do you get that there’s only one other gay guy in my whole school? One. So it’s not like there’s anyone for me to date there.”

Patrick nodded. “I get that.”

“So I met this guy Mike on TikTok — I followed him, and he followed me, and we ended up DMing each other a lot.” Justin narrowed his eyes. “Please don’t ask me what TikTok is.”

“I don’t need to ask you what TikTok is,” Patrick protested, although really he only had the vaguest idea.

“We really… vibed with each other, and he goes to school here in Toronto so he invited me to come visit him for the weekend.”

“When you say he goes to school here…”

Justin huffed. “He goes to college here.”

“So he’s a few years older than you.”

“Four years is not that big of a deal.”

Patrick agreed with that in theory, but when one person is barely eighteen and the other is twenty-one or twenty-two, it could very well be a big deal. So far Justin had said nothing to soothe Patrick’s worries, and he felt like he needed to know the worst of it before he vibrated out of his skin. “Did he pressure you to do something you didn’t want to do?”

Justin squared his shoulders. “I’m not a kid.”

“I know you’re not. That kind of pressure can happen to adults too.”

As quickly as he’s drawn himself up, Justin deflated. “It wasn’t that. I felt like I was ready for… you know.”

Resisting the urge to trot out the old chestnut about how people who were having it needed to be able to say it, Patrick added, “for sex.”

“Yeah. But it… it was awkward and… and really not good and I just… I needed to get out of there this morning.” He put his head down on his folded arms. “I have a non-refundable bus ticket for tomorrow, but I didn’t have anywhere to go tonight, and—”

“Hey,” Patrick said, reaching over and putting a hand on his arm as the waitress showed up with their food. “I’m glad you called me.”

They ate in silence, and then Patrick paid for the meal and led Justin and his overstuffed backpack out to his car. Justin sank into the passenger seat, exhaustion in his every movement. Patrick wondered how much sleep he’d gotten. He sent David a quick text, letting him know that he had Justin and they were on their way back.

“Can I ask you something else?” Patrick ventured.

“I guess.”

“Were you safe with him? With Mike?”

“He used a condom, yeah,” Justin said.

Patrick heaved a sigh of relief. “Okay, good.” He started the car and pulled out into traffic. “If you’re going to be sexually active with multiple people, or, you know. With people you don’t know very well, it would still be good to get tested regularly. It’s a good habit to get into.”

“What, am I supposed to go to my pediatrician and ask him to test me for herpes and HIV and stuff?”

Patrick mulled that over. “Back when I was your age, there was a clinic about an hour away that I know people would go to for testing and, like, abortions. We can look it up when we get back to my place.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

They settled into silence, Justin staring out the window and Patrick focusing on driving carefully.

“I thought you were going to be a lot harder on me for going to meet a guy alone or whatever,” Justin eventually said.

“Well, don’t get me wrong, it was incredibly stupid to go hundreds of kilometers from home without telling anyone where you would be, to meet a guy that you’d only communicated with online. You’re lucky you weren’t sexually assaulted or murdered.”

“There it is,” Justin said, sinking lower in his seat.

“But I sympathize with doing a reckless, stupid thing for love.” He thought about going into business with a guy he didn’t know very well in part because he’d finally, for the first time, recognized that he had romantic feelings for another man. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out with him.”

Another long silence passed. “I thought it would be… I mean, I knew it wouldn’t be like porn, but I’d read some stuff online, and he said he knew what he was doing, and I thought it would be…” In his peripheral vision, Patrick could see Justin cover his face with his hands.

“What?”

“I knew the sex might not be amazing, the first time, especially… you know. Doing… you know.”

“I don’t know, actually. Do you want me to guess?” Patrick said with a smirk, trying not to sweat too much over this conversation.

“Bottoming,” Justin finally said, his hands back over his face. The word was somewhat muffled.

“Oh.” Jesus, kid, you couldn’t start with a handjob? Patrick thought. His thoughts immediately went to his own first experience with that act, at Ray’s house with David while Ray was out playing poker. It was a very good memory. “I mean, it can be amazing, even the first time, with a patient partner.” He was very glad to have the road to focus on; he didn’t think he could have had this conversation looking his cousin in the eye.

Justin didn’t respond to that for a minute, back to staring out the window. Then he finally said, “Yeah, Mike was… not that, I guess.”

“He didn’t, umm… hurt you, did he?”

Justin snorted bitterly. “Not… I guess he just didn’t care if I enjoyed it or not.”

“Then he’s a complete asshole and you’re well rid of him,” Patrick said, thinking that he’d like to punch this Mike guy in the face. Convincing a young kid (albeit above the age of consent) to board a bus to come all the way to Toronto, and then to treat him like that… “I hope you blocked his number.”

“Yeah, did that while I was waiting for you to pick me up,” Justin said, his voice wavering. “God, I’m so stupid.”

“No, stop it. You’re not stupid. You did something rash and… and dangerous, but for understandable reasons.” He debated what to say next. “I will need to call your parents. I don’t need to tell them everything, not the… sexual details. But I can’t hide this from them. For one thing, we need to figure out how to get you back home.”

“I can take the bus.”

Patrick frowned. “I don’t feel great about putting you on a bus alone after what you’ve been through.”

“I’ll be fine,” Justin groused, and Patrick understood that teenage stubbornness, that visceral hatred of being babied.

“I know you will be,” he said.

He took Justin straight to the house when they got to Schitt’s Creek. Justin looked around with interest at his surroundings while Patrick first texted David to give him a quick summary of what happened, then went into their office/guest bedroom, closed the door, and phoned his cousin Sara.

“Patrick!” she said in answer to his call. “How are you? Everything okay with your parents, I hope?” Her quick words betrayed that immediate worry when a distant family member calls, that something terrible has happened.

“They’re fine. I’m actually calling about Justin.”

“Oh, he’s on a weekend trip with his friend Alison’s family. Did you not try his phone? He told me you guys have been texting, and I can’t thank you enough for being a friend to him.”

Patrick steeled himself. “Yeah, so what I have to tell you is that he’s not with Alison. He went to Toronto to meet a boy. It, umm, went badly, and he called me. I drove out there and picked him up and brought him back to Schitt’s Creek.”

There was a moment of silence, and Patrick imagined Sara trying to process all of that information at once. “What do you mean, it went badly. Is he okay?”

“He’s okay. Heartbroken, probably, but he’s not really talking about that. He’s safe.” Patrick said.

“Was he… did he have sex with this boy?”

Patrick ran a hand over his face. “Remember how you told me that I could keep his confidence as long as he was being safe? I told you the unsafe part, the… the getting on a bus to a big city to meet someone from the internet part. The rest of it, I think you’re going to have to ask him.”

She sighed. “Thank you for going to pick him up, Patrick. God, that must have taken you all day.”

“It’s okay. I’m happy to help,” he said, because he was. At the very least, it had effectively distracted him from his own problems for several hours. “He wants to take a bus back home. Are you okay with that? He can sleep here tonight and then I can put him on a bus tomorrow?”

“No, I should come pick him up,” she said, but she sounded uncertain. For good reason; it would be a fourteen-hour round trip for her to do that.

“I’ll watch him to make sure he gets on the right bus,” Patrick said. “And send you the schedule so that you’ll know when to expect him. Okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Her voice trembled, like the implications of what might have happened to her son were hitting her belatedly. “God, he could’ve been—”

“I promise he’s okay, Sara. Do you want to talk to him right now?” Patrick asked, opening the door and walking back out to the main part of the house.

“Yes, please.”

Patrick found Justin in the kitchen, standing awkwardly with his hands shoved in his pockets. “Your mom wants to talk to you,” he said, handing him his phone. He left the room to give Justin some privacy and went to make up the bed in the guest room. As he pulled sheets down from a shelf in the linen closet, it occurred to him that he’d been a little bit jealous of Justin, before: self-aware enough to understand his sexual orientation as a teenager and self-assured enough to come out to his parents. But it was just another path, another person’s journey to being their whole self — not better or worse than Patrick’s path, just different. And plagued with its own pitfalls.

Justin found him to give him back his phone as Patrick was smoothing a quilt over the neatly made bed.

“How mad was she?” Patrick asked.

“Pretty mad,” Justin said. “I’m definitely going to be grounded, but it’s not like I have anywhere to go anyway.” His hands went into his pockets again.

Patrick clapped him on the back. “Well, you can worry about that tomorrow. Want to come help me make dinner?”

That was how David found them when he got home. To his credit, David acted like a teenage houseguest was a normal occurrence, asking Justin politely about his high school and his interests and avoiding anything about the reason he was at their house.

At least, he did that until they were finishing dinner, when David draped his arm over the back of Patrick’s chair and said, apropos of nothing, “When I was sixteen, I convinced my dad’s pilot that I had permission to take the family’s private jet to Germany to meet a guy that I only knew over AOL Instant Messenger.”

Justin frowned with confusion. “What’s AOL Instant Messenger?”

David suppressed a whine. “Okay, never mind that part. That’s not the important part.”

“What happened?” Justin asked.

“The guy turned out to be in his forties and into a lot of kinky shit that I barely knew the terms for, much less—”

“David, I don’t know if this is an appropriate story—” Patrick began.

“All I mean is, you can do stupid stuff as a teenager and survive it and… and learn from it, I guess,” David said. “I don’t know! I’ve been where you are, that’s what I’m saying,” he huffed. “And one other thing, in case Patrick didn’t mention it. Something I didn’t know back then.” David was giving Justin a serious look. “Consent can be revoked at any time, for any reason. No matter what you may have consented to before.”

“Okay,” Justin said, blushing. “Thanks.” Then he wrinkled his nose. “Private jet?”

“My life was very different back then,” David said with an imperious sniff.

~*~

Patrick gave David a wan smile when he joined him in bed that night, after they’d spent the evening playing board games and watching TV with Justin before finally packing him off to the guest room to sleep. “Thanks for helping to keep Justin entertained.”

David got under the covers and let out a long breath. “He’s a good kid; he’ll be okay. He’s got that Brewer earnestness.”

Patrick laughed. “Brewer earnestness?”

“You heard me.”

They settled into silence, but neither of them reached to turn off their lamps. Patrick considered picking up a book and trying to read, but the hours and hours of driving had left him shattered. Maybe he’d just go to sleep.

Before he could turn off his light, he became aware of David looking sidelong at him. As Patrick so often could, he could read David’s face easily: David had something he wanted to say that he wasn’t saying.

“What is it?” Patrick asked, rolling to face David, one hand tucking up under his pillow.

“Nothing,” David said quickly, his eyes widening a little before he averted his gaze.

“David.”

There was a pause as David appeared to weigh his words. Every millisecond edged Patrick’s worry higher. “There was something I wanted to talk to you about earlier, but now with all of this Justin stuff, it seems like a bad time,” David said, not meeting his eyes.

“What did you want to talk to me about?”

David exhaled audibly. “Don’t get mad at me.”

“Why would I get mad at you?”

“Because… look, I spent a lot of my younger years in therapy, and I’ve spent more years than that struggling with anxiety, you know that. I’ve had panic attacks. I still have spiraling, intrusive thoughts sometimes. Mental health is… it’s complicated.”

Patrick felt a cold spike of panic, and he pulled himself up into a seated position against the headboard. “Yeah.”

“So I of all people know that there’s no shame in needing help.”

“David—”

“I might be totally off base, but I think it’s possible that you’re depressed and it might not be a bad idea for you to see a professional,” he rushed out, wincing, his face twisting like he was bracing for an argument.

“I don’t… I’m fine.” The words came out without his permission, a denial from deep in his gut. He needed to be fine. He needed David to not be saying these things.

David sat up next to him, his hand reaching over tentatively to touch Patrick’s thigh. “You don’t seem fine,” he almost whispered.

Patrick felt a swirl of emotions: irrational anger and shame but also relief. Relief that David was putting a name to the thing that Patrick feared, and that he was pointing out a path that Patrick could choose to walk like it was no big deal. Like it was normal. But the shame momentarily rose up and dominated his mix of feelings, and Patrick drew his knees up and leaned his forehead against them.

“I mean I get it, I’m not an easy person to be married to, I know that, and—”

Patrick lifted his head. “What? David, no.” He grabbed David’s hand and squeezed it tight and swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat. “You are the only bright spot in a sea of… of…” Lacking a suitable metaphor, Patrick brought David’s hand to his mouth and kissed his knuckles. “It’s nothing to do with being married to you. I’m grateful every day that I’m married to you.” His eyes burned with unshed tears. “I’m just… I’m so sorry.”

“What do you have to be sorry for?” David asked softly.

Patrick let go of David’s hand and put his own hands together, twisting his wedding ring. “You shouldn’t have to deal with me like this.”

David’s arm went around his shoulders. “What are you talking about,” he said, like Patrick was being silly.

Patrick met his eyes again. “I’m supposed to be stable. I’m supposed to protect you and take care of you and—”

“Okay, but that’s not the way marriage works?” David said. “Sometimes I can be the protector. You can be the one that falls apart sometimes.”

“But that’s not who you married.”

“Patrick, I married you.”

Swiping away the tears from his eyes in frustration, Patrick resisted the urge to get out of bed to put some space between himself and David. “I wasn’t raised to talk about my feelings, you know that. Or at least, not to talk about difficult feelings.” He plucked at a loose thread on the blanket over his legs.

David chuckled. “I do know that, yes.”

“So I’ll probably be terrible at therapy.”

Kissing his cheek, David said, “Well, you’re naturally gifted at too many things, anyway. It’s past time for you to be terrible at something.”

“I’m terrible at a lot of things lately.”

“Mmkay, you’re going to learn about a thing called ‘recurring negative thoughts’ if you end up seeing a therapist,” David said, scratching affectionately at Patrick’s shoulder. “I think you and I will be able to bond over that one.”

Patrick leaned against David, in the circle of his arms, and let out a heavy breath. Not for the first time in their relationship, he felt like an enormous weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. “Thank you, David.”

(Chapter 5)

[the-neon-writer]

It has been a hot minute since I’ve posted anything and I am still working on my potential book lol. But i thought since halloween is tomorrow i would give everyone a spooky treat. So enjoy. 🖤❄️🍂

The Singing Lake

If I hadn’t run, if I hadn’t had Rex with me, it would have been me frozen, forgotten, in bloody pieces on the lake that day. Assuming it left me on the lake and wouldn’t drag me away as its dinner.

Let me start from the beginning. My name is Sean McGilroy and I am a professor of Folklore and Anthropology at the University College Dublin. I was on a research mission in Sweden, about 5 months ago. I’d heard from a colleague of mine that some natives had uncovered an old burial site and decided to check it out for myself. I later came to regret that decision.

I checked out the gravesite with a local tour guide and a close friend of mine. There were some fascinating artistic representations of creatures of Myth and local legends some obviously invoked to protect from unwanted spirits and graverobbers. But there was one in particular that stood out from the others. It’s difficult to put into words as it gave me quite a shock. Even if I had seen all the most violent creatures on our planet I wouldn’t have been prepared for it. It was a humanoid creature that had the head of a deer but the claws of a wolf. And it’s jaw seemed to stretch grotesquely in ways that are entirely unnatural. It unsettled me and I couldn’t stop thinking about its sad mournful eyes that seemed to chill the air around them, for the rest of the night. The writing next to the creature was cryptic and only partly preserved. But it chilled me to the bone, roughly translated, it read something like: “Beware the lullaby of the lake… An icy grave awaits those who cross…”. Had I listened to the fairly obvious warning, I would’ve saved myself a lot of money on therapist bills.

The next morning I decided to take Rex, my Irish Wolfhound, for a walk in the woods to clear my head. Which didn’t really help, it just gave me more questions. We walked for a while in eerie silence, I was beginning to regret my decision when I heard something.

Whether or not the sound had been real we couldn’t have known yet we followed it. It was like something was calling for us, beckoning to us and I couldn’t help but go to it. If the lake’s crackling under my feet hadn’t been audible, I wouldn’t have realized we’d left the safety of the woods. It was cold and barren and the singing had stopped. It happened so suddenly.

Providing the events that transpired were real I wouldn’t have survived if Rex hadn’t barked madly leading the horrific creature away from me. The thing was huge bigger than any human and it was bounding toward us on all fours from across the lake. We were in the middle of the frozen lake. If the fear hadn’t kicked in and made me run for my life I would have ended up like Rex. I didn’t look back I just ran, but I heard the mournful yelp and crunch of bones that signified the end of my companion. I kept running even though the hollow harmonies of the lake were singing and calling me to come back. The ice cracked underneath my feet with every step I took until I didn’t hear the cracking or the tragic melody any longer. Only then did I finally stop. I had run so far from the lake in such a short time. It took me another 2 hours to get my bearings and find the town again.

I was still in shock when I got on the plane home the next day and wouldn’t fully recover for another week.

Maybe if I had had more courage I would’ve found out what it was, but I didn’t. I sent my friend a letter asking him to take a few people to the lake. And he did. They reported back with almost nothing, said that there was no sign of Rex and that I probably encountered a bear. But I know what I saw was no bear. The only odd thing they reported were pawprints. My friend was kind enough to send a photocopy to me in the mail a week later. I asked one of our biology professors what he thought of them. He had never seen anything like them before. They were probably those of a wolf but they were bigger, a lot bigger than any wolf’s I'd ever seen and they had long toes and sharp claw markings that were almost as long as the rest of the print. I don’t think I’ll ever recover from that experience and I don’t think I’ll ever tell another soul what I really saw on that lake. But I know one thing for sure if ever I pass by there again I will never traverse those woods or listen to the singing of the lake again.

[wistfulcynic]

Another Brick In The Wall: Chapter 14

It’s the end! I can’t believe it. This story that started out as a snotty protest against high school AUs somehow ended as my second longest MC and something that I’ve immensely enjoyed writing. It's been so interesting imagining these characters and the events of their lives through this lens, I just hope in the end I've done them justice. Thank you all so much for reading it, and for your lovely comments, without them this story probably wouldn't have happened. Love you all ❤️❤️❤️

Summary: Emma Swan, sheriff’s daughter, mayor’s niece, quarterback’s girlfriend, is the undisputed princess of Storybrooke High. She is smart and confident and used to getting what she wants. What she wants is Killian Jones, the new boy in school. But Killian is not easily manipulated, and reluctant to allow the dark secrets in his past to touch the girl he is rapidly falling in love with. Rating: T Read it on AO3: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14

Tags for: @darkcolinodonorgasm @jennjenn615 @hollyethecurious @resident-of-storybrooke @kmomof4 @bonbonpirate

Chapter 14:

Nine and a half years after the morning after her senior prom, Emma arrived home at the end of another exhausting day to find a thick cream envelope in her mail slot addressed to “Dr Emma Swan-Jones.” The Storybrooke High seal was pressed into the flap, and Emma knew immediately what it was. 

She sifted through the bills and junk mail seaching for another envelope, addressed to Killian. There wasn’t one. Perhaps that wasn’t surprising, though, she reasoned. He hadn’t technically graduated with her, just passed his AP exams and gone on his way. 

When Killian came home half an hour later she was sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the card the envelope had contained with a small scowl. He gave her a quizzical look and she handed it to him, without comment. He looked at it and laughed. “Of course,” he said. “The final stage in the American high school drama. The one wherein we return to the old alma mater, triumphantly to lord our brilliant success over the poor sods we went to school with.” He sat down across from her and handed the card back. “I suppose you’ll want to go?” 

Emma shrugged. “I don’t know. Do we have any brilliant success to lord over anyone?” That afternoon she had given expert testimony in the trial of a sixteen year old boy accused of sexually assaulting his twelve year old sister. He’d been acquitted. The girl had grabbed Emma’s hand and begged her with terrified eyes not to make her go back home. But there had been no other option. Watching that poor child be herded away by her parents had made Emma feel precisely the opposite of brilliantly successful. 

Killian gave her the soft, sympathetic look he always gave when he could tell she’d had a particularly bad day, and reached out to take her hand. “‘Brilliant’ may be too strong a word, but we’re certainly well on our way to where we want to be,” he said. “Don’t you think so, love?”

Killian was a junior professor, teaching all the hours God sent while simultanously participating in a major research project and writing the book he hoped would get him tenure. She was a forensic psychologist with the Boston PD, handed all the worst, most difficult cases by her superiors, coming home each day exhausted and ready to weep for humanity. They lived on the ground floor of a draughty old house that they paid way too much rent for, trying to save for a down payment on their own place, which at the rate they were going would only take about thirty years provided Boston house prices remained at their current stratospheric levels. She had wrinkles on her forehead now that didn’t smooth out when she stopped frowning and last week she had found a grey hair. Were they where they wanted to be?

She looked at her husband. The years had certainly been kind to him. His lanky frame had filled out and he had grown into his face, which was now covered with stubble from the thick beard he was usually too busy or tired to shave regularly. The scruff suited him, though. Everything suited him. Killian at seventeen had been a cute boy with eyes a bit too big and limbs a touch too long, teetering just on the precipice of his potential; Killian at twenty-seven was breathtaking. 

She realised he was waiting for an answer to his question. “I guess. I don’t know. Oh, I can’t think about things like that now, I’m in too much of a mood.” 

Keeping hold of her hand he stood and pulled her up into his arms, wrapping them tightly around her and stroking her hair. She sighed as she leaned against his solid, comforting form, drawing strength from his presence. 

“Rough day?” he asked. 

“When isn’t it?” she replied, unable to keep the frustration from her voice. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head as much as she could with her face buried in his shoulder. “Not really. Maybe later. Right now I just want to sit and do something mindless. Just not think for a while.” 

Killian kissed her gently on her hair and then on her lips. “Why don’t you find something on Netflix and I’ll pour us some wine,” he said. 

She nodded and went into the living room, collapsing on the sofa and putting her feet up on the coffee table. Killian hated when she did that, but sometimes she wanted to stretch out, she thought grumpily. 

“Anything you want for dinner?” he called from the kitchen.

“No, just whatever.” She picked up the remote and began scrolling aimlessly through the options.

He joined her a few minutes later, handing her a large glass of red wine and sitting down next to her, sighing as he did. He looked pointedly at her feet, but said nothing. She felt a brief flare of guilt. His days were hard too. She took her feet off the table and curled them under her as she tucked herself against his side and he put an arm around her. 

“I think ‘whatever’ is going to be pasta and a salad tonight,” he said, kissing the top of her head.   

“That sounds fine. What do you want to watch?”

“Oh, whatever,” he teased, using his ‘American’ accent. She gave him a small slap, rolling her eyes. 

“The Good Place?”

“Yeah, go on then.” 

It was a show they’d watched a hundred times, but after their stressful days they needed some comfort viewing. They watched two episodes as they drank their wine, then Killian went to make dinner and Emma checked her email. Five messages from her boss already, and she’d barely left work two hours ago. On a Friday. Firmly she closed the app and turned her phone upside down on the table. She’d deal with work later. Now she was going to have dinner with her husband and enjoy his company. 

They chatted about odds and ends as they ate, the everyday, random subjects that are common in long-term relationships. 

“By the way, you never answered my question, love,” said Killian, after a short silence. 

“Hmm? What question?” Emma twirled pasta around her fork. 

“Do you want to go to the reunion?”

She frowned. She’d forgotten about it, and wasn’t sure she wanted to open the subject again. “Eh, I don’t know,” she said. “I guess it might be nice to see some people again. We don’t really do any visiting when we go back to SB.” 

They went back regularly of course, to see Liam and Belle, who were married now with three small children, and her parents, who had a small child of their own— a surprise baby (very surprising, Snow had laughed) called Leo, who was now eight. But their trips were usually over holidays and they were so busy with their families, nieces and nephews and baby brothers, that they didn’t take much time to see old friends, especially since Ruby had moved to China and hardly ever came back. 

“I’ll leave it up to you,” said Killian. “I was only at that school for a year, and everyone I really came to care about I still see frequently. Even Whale, who I in fact see far too much of for anyone’s liking.” 

Against all odds Killian and Victor had remained friends of a sort and since Victor had moved to Boston three years earlier they went out together fairly regularly, though from what Killian said they spent most of that time bickering and needling at each other. Still, they seemed to enjoy it. 

By the time Emma and Killian had finished eating and cleaned up the kitchen it was past nine and their eyelids were drooping. “Do you want to watch anything else?” asked Killian.

“No,” said Emma, around an enormous yawn. “Let’s just go to bed.” 

She was so old, she thought. In bed by ten on a Friday night. But it was better than falling asleep on the sofa five minutes into a movie. 

They brushed their teeth and washed their faces, then got undressed and before putting on pajamas they wrapped themselves around each other as they did every night, sharing a deep kiss as they each mentally played a round of the debating game they called “Are We Too Knackered For Sex Or Not?”

To her surprise, Emma discovered that her answer was “Or Not.” She was exhausted, mentally and physically, but as much as she wanted to sleep she wanted to feel that closeness with Killian even more, wanted the warmth and comfort that she always felt when making love with him. Wanted proof that human relationships could be positive, nurturing things, not like that hellishly twisted nightmare family she’d seen today. Sometimes she felt that without her loving marriage, without Killian’s unwavering support, doing her job might come at the expense of her mental health. 

She signalled her intent by letting her hand slide down his back to cup his ass and pull his hips into hers, rocking her own against him. 

He hummed against her mouth. “So it’s an Or Not for you, then?” he murmured. 

“Yeah. You?”

“I’m certain I can summon the energy to ravish you, love,” he growled, hoisting her up against him. She shrieked and wrapped her legs around his waist, laughing as he tumbled them both onto their bed. 

Later, Emma lay with her head on Killian’s chest, listening to his heartbeat and the soft flow of his breath as he slept. She was tired in a more pleasant way now, sated and content and much more at peace than she had felt earlier, yet still she couldn’t sleep. Her fingers sifted through the abundant hair on his chest, one of her favourite things to touch, and she remembered with a smile the first night she’d spent in his arms. How she’d woken on that shining morning to the thought of how hairy he’d be one day. He had surpassed her expectations on that front. On most fronts, honestly. 

She indulged in more memories of that morning, of the two of them eating pancakes and bacon on the boat, laughing, talking about nothing, getting lost in each other’s eyes. They had been so in love, so happy. So full of bright optimism for the future. They’d thought they had it all figured out. 

A decade later they weren’t any less in love. If anything their feelings had only deepened and strengthened as their relationship matured. But life had not turned out to be quite as easy as they had envisioned it in that sparkling memory. She supposed it never really did. 

She thought about going to the Storybrooke High reunion, seeing the people she hadn’t seen since graduation. People she had ruled back then as Storybrooke’s princess, shallow and carefree, beloved and ever so slightly feared. People who had remained in the small town they’d been born in while she had moved to New York, travelled far and wide with Killian, seen and done so much that had changed her, then finally settled into a job that exhausted and depressed her even as every day reinforced her conviction that what she did was essential work, helping people as much as anything could. What would Storybrooke think of its princess now?

Human nature being what it was, she of course wondered sometimes about the life she could have had if she’d returned after college as her mother had wished. What she would have ended up doing, who she would have been with? Would Killian really have returned with her, given up his own future for her? Even odder to imagine, what would have become of her if she’d never met Killian at all? He was such an integral part of her existence, her husband, her best friend, the love of her life, that she was literally unable to imagine herself without him.  Had Killian never come to Storybrooke Emma would have grown up to be a wholly different person, one unrecognisable to the person she actually was. Whether she would have been happy in that other reality, in her ignorance both of true love and of the frustrations of the life she’d chosen, she couldn’t say. All she knew was that despite everything she was happy in this one. 

Killian shifted in his sleep, his hand sliding over the bare skin of her hip and onto her lower belly as he unconsciously cuddled her closer. Her skin tingled in its wake with the low-level arousal always ignited by even his lightest touch. He was the only man she’d ever slept with, something her friends hadn’t hesitated to tease her about over the years, like it was something they thought she would be ashamed of. But Emma always just laughed, letting the mockery roll off her back. She was more than satisfied with her sex life, certain that she wasn’t missing anything she couldn’t do without. In fact, hearing her friends’ stories of unsatisfying one-nighters and awkward morning-afters and the challenges of dating in the modern world just made her even more grateful for Killian, who still looked at her like she was the centre of his universe and whose hands on her never failed to send sparks dancing across her skin even after ten years together. Why would she want to go out looking for meaningless sex with men whose faces she would barely remember just for the sake of “wider experience” when she had the sexiest man she’d ever seen already in her bed, waiting to worship her and pleasure her and love her? Why go out for hamburger, as the saying goes, when you have steak at home? 

Though she’d be lying if she didn’t admit, if only to herself, how deeply she’d enjoyed the look on her college friends’ faces when they’d met him for the first time. After all the teasing she’d endured about her boyfriend who was actually a boy and about her turning down men old enough to buy her alcohol for the sake of a boy who wasn’t even eighteen yet, she had revelled in their shock, their disbelief, and yes, their outright envy. He’s mine, bitches, she remembed thinking, with her newfound college-student affinity for swearing. And you can suck it. 

“All right, all right,” Tiana had said. “I get it now. You’re a dark horse, Emma Swan.”

“Does he have a brother?” Ariel had asked innocently. 

Maintaining their relationship during their college years had, she realised now, been pretty easy. Alhough at first they had struggled with the distance, as they’d settled into college life and found their friends and routines and formed a routine for their relationship, texting throughout the day and FaceTiming in the evenings, they had learned to handle it. She’d missed him, of course, as he had her, but they’d always visited each other without fail twice a month, the only exception being during finals when they needed the time to study and didn’t wish to spend it on the train. Their winter and summer breaks had also been spent together, first in Storybrooke and later in either New York or Boston, working summer internships to help them get a leg up in their future careers. 

After graduation, Killian fulfilled his promise to go to Oxford for three years of graduate study while Emma, hating the idea of being so far away from him for so long, had impulsively applied for a master’s programme at the London School of Economics and to her surprise been accepted. 

“It’s for social and cultural psychology, which isn’t directly applicable to what I want to do,” she said. “But it sounds fascinating and it’ll give me a broader understanding of the field which can only be an advantage. And I should be able to start a PhD immediately when it’s finished.”

“I can’t say I’d be sorry to have you near,” said Killian. “I haven’t been back to the UK in five years, I’m a bit apprehensive about it. And of course not having an ocean between us is never a bad thing.” 

Emma of course had never been to the UK at all, and so they took three weeks before the start of their courses to travel around the country, everywhere except London and Oxford, as they had agreed that every time they got together (trading visits every two weeks as they’d done in college) they would do one touristy thing, reasoning that this ought to give them enough time to see the major sights of both cities during Emma’s year-long programme.  

Because life was insane and coincidences were real they actually ran into Milah one afternoon in Lincoln’s Inn Fields. It was early November and they were sitting on the grass enjoying an unseasonable bout of warmth and sunshine when Killian suddenly went stiff as a board, drawing in his breath sharply. 

“What is it?” asked Emma, concerned, following the trajectory of his gaze to a tall woman with long, dark hair tumbling down her back in wild curls who was walking along the path nearest them, a cell phone at her ear. 

“That’s her. Milah.” Killian’s voice was strained. 

“Really?” Emma leaned forward for a better look. 

“Yeah.” Killian’s hand tightened in hers, squeezing her fingers painfully. “Don’t stare, I don’t want to catch her attention.” 

“Are you sure? We could go talk to her, if you want.” 

“Definitely not.” 

“It might be good, Killian, to talk about—” 

“No, love, please. I’ve worked hard to put it behind me, I don’t want to dredge up old emotions that are best left in the past.” 

She snuggled closer into his side. “As you wish,” she said, stealing his line, and he smiled and kissed her. When they looked up again, Milah had gone. 

That night when they made love there was something almost frantic in the way he held her and touched her and thrust deep within her, as though he needed her to anchor him in the place he wanted to remain. Normally their lovemaking was very much a pair activity, but that night Emma lay back and let him take what he needed, knowing that his fingers would leave bruises on her soft skin but that she would never reproach him for them. And when he clung to her in the aftermath and she felt his tears dampen her hair she held him close and whispered that she loved him and always would, soothing him until he slept. 

The next morning he was lighter than she’d ever seen him, smiling brightly as they did their touristy thing —a trip on the London Eye this time— laughing freely when she held tightly to his jacket at the top, wrapping her securely in his arms. “I’ll never let you fall, Emma,” he murmured in her ear, and she smiled. She wouldn’t let him fall, either. She hadn’t, and she never would. 

When she saw him off on the train back to Oxford that evening she knew that he had left Milah and the trauma of his past behind, completely. Finally. He was free.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Killian awoke the next morning Emma was still asleep, curled up on her side and snoring lightly in the way he’d always found adorable. She still had shadows under her eyes but her face was relaxed and peaceful, which eased some of his worry about her state of mind. When Emma was particularly stressed she frowned even in her sleep, so her soft expression was a good sign. He hated seeing her so strung out but knew there was little he could do to help. It was simply her nature. She was incapable of not getting emotionally invested in the people she counselled; she cared about them and took it very hard when she wasn’t able to give them the help they needed. He couldn’t change that, nor did he really want to; her generous heart was one of the things he loved most about her. All he could really do was just be there, just offer his support and listen whenever she was ready to talk. 

He stroked her cheek with his thumb and kissed her softly on the forehead, and when she didn’t waken he slid carefully from the bed, pulling on his old Harvard sweatpants as quietly as he could. She seemed pretty deeply asleep and frankly, he thought, she could use the rest. It wasn’t often she had a chance to sleep in, even on a Saturday, but today, he silently decreed, she would. She would sleep late, and when she awoke he would have breakfast waiting for her.

Pancakes, he thought. We haven’t had those in ages. And bacon. Like they’d had the morning after the prom. He smiled to himself at the memory, one that hadn’t crossed his mind in years. So many good things had happened since that when it came to happy memories he had a true embarrassment of riches, and sometimes things got lost in the shuffle. The arrival of the reunion invite had it seemed shuffled them to the fore again. 

Although he could certainly understand Emma’s reluctance to go to her high school reunion and be faced with having either to hide or to explain the stresses and frustrations of the life she’d chosen to people who already struggled to understand why she’d chosen it, Killian knew she wouldn’t change a thing about their life, as he wouldn’t. All things considered they had been almost unbelievably fortunate. Finding the love of your life at sixteen or seventeen was vanishingly rare; even rarer was that relationship surviving years of separation, the stress of pursuing advanced degrees and of working long hours for low pay and little appreciation, and actually growing stronger with each new challenge thrown at it. He was immensely grateful for the last ten years with her and for all the years they had to come, for the children they hoped some day to have, for the life they would continute to build together. All they needed was each other, the rest of it—the jobs, the kids, the house— would work itself out. And if those things never came then they’d still be happy because they’d be together. 

Feeling cheerful at the prospect of surprising Emma with a nice breakfast, Killian opened the refrigerator, only to discover that that they had no bacon. And no milk. Sighing, he quickly peeked into the bedroom to check that Emma was still sound asleep, then tossed on his jacket, zipping it securely as he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and slipped from the house as quietly as possible. Twenty minutes later he was back, armed with bacon, milk, and some good coffee, plus chocolate chips for the pancakes. Emma permitted him to feed her healthy food these days as long as he prepared it, but she still held on to her childhood preference for sickly sweet breakfasts. He mixed the pancake batter and set it aside to rest while he cooked the bacon and then finally put the coffee on. Breakfast was nearly ready, and if anything would lure Emma out of bed it was the smell of good coffee. 

Sure enough she appeared in the kitchen moments later, wearing an old t-shirt of his and rubbing her eyes sleepily. “Is that the Guatemalan coffee I smell?” she asked, “I thought we’d run out.”

“I went to the store. It’s been a while since we’ve had a nice breakfast, and you seemed like you could use it.”

She came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist as he tested the heat of the griddle and poured out the first batch of pancakes. “God, I love you,” she said against the bare skin over his shoulder blade.

“I hope you’re not just saying that because I got chocolate chips for the pancakes,” he teased, picking up the bag to show her before sprinking a generous handful over half the batch. 

“Well, I can’t deny that’s a major factor,” she replied, deadpan. 

“I knew it.” 

She gave a light laugh and squeezed him tightly before heading for the coffee maker. “It’s ready,” she said. “Do you want a cup now?”

“Yeah, please.” Killian deftly flipped the pancakes. “These’ll be done in a minute, you go sit down and I’ll bring it all in when it’s ready.” 

Emma poured coffee for both of them and took their cups to the table. Sitting, she sipped at hers, letting the rich flavour and the caffeine kick both soothe and jolt her into full consciousness. She’d nearly finished the cup when Killian placed a generous stack of pancakes in front of her, oozing melted chocolate and accompanied by a pile of bacon. She laughed, the first free, happy laugh he’d heard from her in far too long. 

“Are there three of me?” she asked. 

“Now, darling, don’t pretend that you can’t, or won’t, eat all of that yourself,” he said, refilling her coffee cup. “Need I remind you of the Naples Pizza Incident?” 

“I was twenty three then!” she protested, “The calories burned off a lot faster in those days.” 

“It was only five years ago, love, not fifty.” 

“It feels longer,” she said, the grim mood falling back onto her face.  

He sat down and picked up his fork, deliberately casual. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

She nodded. “Yeah, I think I’m ready.” 

As they ate she told him about the case, the testimony she’d given, how her best efforts had seemed to make no difference, and how she’d had to send a traumatised little girl right back into the same terrible situation she thought she’d escaped. 

“That fucking judge, he cared more about ‘ruining the future’ of the brother than about protecting a little girl from a predator,” she fumed. “Of course a sexual assault conviction would ruin his future, it should.” She took a large bite of pancake, chewed and swallowed before continuing. “I think the worst thing was that the smug little shit knew there wouldn’t be any consequences for him. His parents knew what was going on, they did nothing. The judge did nothing. What’s even the point of a justice system if it doesn’t protect the people who most need protecting?” She bit down on a piece of bacon with a vicious crunch. 

 Killian knew this was a rhetorical question; she didn’t want his help or his opinion, just his ear and his shoulder. So he said nothing. 

Emma swiped her plate with the last bite of pancake and popped it in her mouth. “Looks like you were right,” she said. “I did eat it all.” 

“I knew you could do it,” he replied, smiling at her. “I believed in you. I always believe in you, Emma.” 

In more things than just eating pancakes, he meant, and he could tell she understood. She gave him an odd look, half soft smile, half inner turmoil.  

“Let’s go,” she said suddenly.  

“Where?”

“To the reunion. Let’s just go. I don’t care if we’re brilliantly successful or not, I’m happy. I’m exhausted and frustrated and sometimes I feel like all my efforts are for nothing, but then I come home and you pour me wine and fuck me senseless—”

“Um, make passionate love to my beautiful wife, I think you mean—”

“—then you make me pancakes for breakfast and listen to me complain about my day and even though that doesn’t make the problems go away it makes me feel like I can handle them. I can handle anything as long as you’re with me, and I’m happy, Killian.” She reached out and took his hand. “This is happily ever after,” she said softly, smiling into his eyes. “Everyone seems to think that that means your life is perfect but it doesn’t. It just means you’re happy despite the imperfections.”

“I’m happy with you, Emma,” he whispered, kissing her, leaning his forehead against hers, breathing her breath. “You're all I need, and I will never stop loving you.”

“I’ll never stop loving you,” she whispered back. They kissed again, deeper this time, a kiss tasting of pancakes and bacon and the years and years of joys and frustrations, triumphs and struggles, small victories and petty annoyances that they had to look forward to together. 

In that moment, despite the imperfections, they were perfectly, truly happy.