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sheina05 · 6 months

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"REFLECTION ESSAY"

BY:SHEINA FE MIJARES

I was five years old I was a kindergarten at Armenia Elementary School. I Continue to study very hard in primary school because I wanted to become a nurse one day, so I will persist in my study in the First grade I obtained the third most reading award and in the second grade. I received the most reading award one again I was give a humitarian award Frome the third through sixth grades. After Finishing elementary school I continued my studies at Tondo High School, i became the Secretary of our section and was also active I always parti- cipate in all the contest in our school to boost my confi dence in front of many people, in every occasion in our school I participate and I received many awards.

When I Finished grade 7 I was also honored I graduated with honors. when I was in secondary School, we moved to Manila because our house in the province burned down, so my mother decided that we would move to Manila and I would to continue my studies. Istudied at Tonda Manila high School, but it was difficult I socialize with my classmo tes, I also experienced being bullied by my classmates because I'm from the province. little by little, I lost my confidence in my self because Friend's who where always with me to all happy and sad memories. until I finished my secondary school, my mom decided again that we would move house to Cavite and that's whe I would to continue studying.

Third year high school at Hipolito squlayan National High School I studied it made me think because I might experience What lexperienced before that I might be bullied again, but I made a mistake whe I wellt to school my classmates immediately greeted me because I was a transfery and they were kind to me until had another now friend.

Until Finished my Grade 10 school where I studied third year high school .Currently I am now studying at Gen Pantaleon Garcia Senior High School, Humss student academic track grade 12 student I'm happy because little by little mst confidence will boost again especially when speaking in front many people and that's it.

"TRAVELOGUE"

BY:SHEINA FE MIJARES

"MANGROVE TUM PARK"

March 9, 2022 my sibling and went goto Masbate to take a vacation and attend our cousin's wedding, a lot has change in Masbate because we haven't visited it in a while, I visited the Famous Mangrovetom park for the First time. It's my first time to visit it because it is said to be more bea utiful than before. This park is actually 27 km away From us, we ride a tricycle, it's really the main form of transpor tatian here in Masbate, our fee is 20 peass each, it's a bit expensive for us but it's okay, so before we entered the mangrove park is we paid an entrance fee worth 50 pesos then when I enter I will see. their Hanging Bridge it's beautiful but it really scare me, to be honest it's not that scary but I still have to hold my brother tightly because, you can still Feel the suspenoion while it was bouncing up and down. when I passed it I was still nervous and the view is beatiful. because, you can see their Wooden Walkways, it's nice to walk because lam really comfortable her thinking that I night fall I did not think about it because the view is so beautiful.

They also have an Octagon View Deek. The view is so beautiful that you can see the sunset and you can really see the beauty of the sea and the air is really Fresh. Then their Spiral view Deck here I was really scared of their spiral view because if I look up it's scary I don't want to go up but I have no choice because my siblings have already gone up so I went up too. I was wowed by the view because I can really see the beauty of the sea here and I can see the sunsent more, it's really enjoyable. They also have can see the sunset more, it's really enjoyable they also have what they call 360 paroramic views here. From acres of mangroves to the gorgeous and wide sea and a beautiful sky.

I was very happy with my visit here. I related my mind, although there is still a lot improve such as fixing their wooden floors in the Octagon View deck and putting more lights because, there are still places in the park that are too dark at night however, this place is a gem within a city, an escape, From the hustles and stress at work, school and in life, I am happy because I've also been there to what they say is mangrovetum park it's worth it, it's really worth the price, there are also lot of Of tourists I see different kinds of people, I've only come here.

"LITERARY JOURNALISM"

BY:SHEINA FE MIJARES

"BEHIND THE BEAUTIFUL FOREVERS"

Boo embedded for more than three years in a makeshift settlement near the Mumbai airport to pro- vide an unprecedented look at some of the hidden lives of the Indian underclass. Boo depicts great poverty and suffering with unsentimental empathy, and finds dramatic narratives in the relationships, corruption, and hope of his unique society of people attempting to eke out a living by Collecting trach and selling it for recycling.

Behind the Beautiful Forevers is one of the finest examples of slipping into the consciousnesses of strangers and fouthfully transmitting what it's like to be someone else, somewhere elsensi George Packer, the author most recently of Last Best Hope, marveled at the daunting. thurnalistle challenged Boo undertook to tell the story. assigned herself a very hard subject to tell the story of desperately poor people in a foreign slum whose Language she didn't speak. With passion, intelling- ence, resourcefulness, and courage, she achieved perfe otion 60 correspondent chris Heath added. the true Strength and triumph of Boo's book is less it's depiction. of the drama that gradually evolves, compelling as that Is, that its unfolding incremental, quotidian portrait of lives lived in Mumbai slum. And how, while Boo allows you to the most part unshowy and feel her full immersion and presence, for she manages to do so in Such an soun-self-congratulatory way that her restraint and poise feel like a tracit reproach to genera- tions of other world's nonfiction before here."

"MEMOIR"

BY:SHEINA FE MIJARES

"SHATTERED MIRROR"

Reflecting on My Past Life they say is like a mirror, reflecting back at us the contours of our existence. But what happens when that mirror shatters, scattering fragments of our past in every direction? This is the story of my shattered mirror the mirror of my life shattered on a cold winter's evening. I was 16, and my father, the pillar of my world, passed away. His death was sudden, unexpected, and it fractured my reality, leaving me to pick up the pieces of a life that no longer made sense each shard of my shattered mirror represented a different aspect of my past. One piece reflected my childhood filled with laughter and innocence, unaware of the trials that lay ahead. Another shard reflected my teenage years, a time of confusion and self-discovery, of first loves and heartbreaks.

And a third piece mirrored the painful void left by my father's death, a wound that time seemed unable to heal as I picked up each fragment, I was forced to confront parts of myself I had long ignored or forgotten. I had to face my fears, my insecurities, my mistakes, and my regrets. But in doing so, I also rediscovered my strengths, my passions, my dreams, and my potential the process was painful, yet cathartic. Each piece of the mirror, no matter how jagged or small, held a piece of me. And as I pieced them together, I began to see a more complete picture of myself. I saw a young girl who had faced adversity and emerged stronger. I saw a woman who had loved, lost, and learned to love again. I saw a person who had made mistakes but used them as stepping stones towards growth.

In the end, my shattered mirror did not reflect a broken life, but a mosaic of experiences that made me who I am today. It taught me that life is not about avoiding hardships but about embracing them as part of our journey. It showed me that our past, no matter how fragmented, shapes our present and our future my mirror may have shattered, but it did not leave me broken. Instead, it offered me a chance to rebuild myself, to reflect on my past, and to create a future that truly reflects who I am in the shattered mirror of my life, I found not just my past, but also my resilience, my courage, and my hope for the future. And in its reflection, I found myself.

"FACIAL RECOGNITION"

BY:SHEINA FE MIJARES

"HIS POINTED NOSE"

This person means a lot to me and I can say that he has everything, especially his face. The part of his face that I like the most is his nose because, It is ery po every panted and its suits him so much that is my ideal man on wattpad because, I said when I had a boyfriend I wanted someone with a panted nose and kind and respectful, and that came true. He is Angelo my boyfriend whom I only met on the Internet, I have no idea how handsome he is because it makes me think that maybe his face is different on face. book and in person. because, maybe his nose is edited, but when I saw him whe he came to our house. beca use we decided to meet because its been almost le months also, ws when I first raw him I was wowed in my mind because what he look like on his profile in facebook is the same in person, his nose is pointed and This face really matches his brown color, I can't say any- thing because his force e is is perfect, perf it suits him. cially when he is in side view, his nose led I joke with him that if we cauld change espe is very point noses beca use his nose is really pointed. He is with hu mother and father, their noses are almost pointed. Every time we are together, it is always his nose that I notice because his nose is really attention, anyone can be beautiful with his nose.

"MY SELF OBITUARY "

BY:SHEINA FE MIJARES

"IN LOVING MEMORY"

In loving memory, Each life that has touched ours has left an indelible Mark, a legacy of love, kindness, and memories that will never fade we remember the laughter, the smiles, the moments of joy shared together we remember the love that bound us together, the special bond that transcends time and space. Even though we may be apart now, our souls are forever intertwined, connected by the love that will never die in loving memory, we cherish the moments we shared, the lessons we learned, and the love we gave and received. Each memory is a treasure, a reminder of the beautiful souls who have touched our lives and made us better people though they may be gone from this world, their presence lingers on in the memories we hold dear. They live on in the stories we tell, the songs we sing, and the traditions we carry on in their honor.

Their love lives on in our hearts, a flame that will never be extinguished. They are with us always, whispering words of love and encouragement, reminding us that we are never alone in loving memory, we celebrate the lives of those who have passed on, knowing that they have left an indelible mark on this world. Their legacy lives on in the lives they touched, the hearts they warmed, and the love they shared we remember their kindness, their compassion, their strength, and their resilience.

We remember the way they faced challenges with grace, the way they loved fiercely, and the way they made the world a better place in loving memory, we honor their legacy by living our lives with the same love, kindness, and compassion that they showed us. We strive to carry on their spirit, to spread love and light in a world that can often feel dark and lonely their memory is a beacon of hope, a reminder that love is the most powerful force in the universe. It transcends time and space, bringing us closer to those we have lost and reminding us that they are never truly gone In loving memory, we find comfort in knowing that our loved ones are at peace, surrounded by love and light in a place beyond our understanding. They are free from pain, worry, and sorrow, basking in the eternal love of the universe though we may miss them dearly, we take comfort in the knowledge that we will be reunited with them one day in a place where love knows no bounds, where pain and sorrow are but a distant memory.

#blog

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ihatemyselfbutidolovetea · 9 months

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12/31/2023

Well, here we are at the end of 2023. I don't remember if I did an end-of-the-year diary entry. This has possibly been the most stressful year I've been through and I imagine it will get harder and more stressful. All that means is that I am participating in life like everyone else on the planet. I've made new friends, I've gained new experiences, I got a new job, I've learned more about myself... Despite the stress, I'd say there is a lot to appreciate about 2023.

This one is going to be a long one... I've been getting into Jennette McCurdy's work, and I listened to her year-end review podcast episode. So instead of just talking about my year in a stream of consciousness, I'm going to start with answering the same questions she did in her podcast.

What is your proudest achievement?

I'm proud of maintaining a job while going to school. I think the previous me would have definitely given up by now, but knowing that I'm about to reach my one year of working for Jewel makes me feel more confident. I feel like I can do more.

2. What or whom are you most thankful for?

I'm thankful for a lot of people in my life to be honest, it's hard to rank them all. But if I had to say, my confidante would be there. There are people who try their best to motivate me and support me, and honestly bless their hearts for trying. But I feel like no one really talks to me the way he does. The way he radically accepts me, and trusts me. The way he will stay up all night to give me a friend to talk to and enrich my life. The way he forgives me when I honestly don't deserve it. It is the kind of forgiveness that doesn't make me feel, "welp, all's well things are normal." It's the kind of forgiveness that inspires me. At one point in the heat of despair, he asks me what I gain out of our companionship and I wish I could have said this. I just said garbled prattling. I hope we can continue to be companions.

3. What surprised you most?

I had a very traumatic November. The month wherein Jayson didn't want to be with me was something I was not prepared for. Everything shitty leading up to that was equally painful. We were fighting a lot. Edit: I wrote down some memories of our fights, but I decided to delete that part because I honestly want to forget those moments and leave them in the past. Jayson will probably want us to forget those bad times. And I'm getting old, memories that would have haunted me as a child or a teen don't stick with me anymore, the perks of having a goldfish memory bank. I know Jayson regrets how he's acted. The day he took me back was polarizing. I loved him, and I wanted to be with him, but the tiger parenting and the abandonment made me hesitant. Ultimately if he was willing to give me a chance to grow as a person, then I wanted to do the same. We are still together. When I told my cousin we repaired our relationship she asked me if I was happy. I didn't know if I was but after spending time with Jayson again, I was reminded why my heart chose him. Right now we are very happy, and we are excited to move forward in our lives.

4. How has your relationship with yourself changed?

I think this was the year I've done the most changing, ergo my relationship with myself has changed. I still struggle with loving myself, I'm still overcritical, I struggle with forgiving myself, and I beat myself up when I've not improved enough. What has improved is my strife to understand what my own needs are and I'm more motivated to go after what I want. I want to try new things, face more fears, be myself in a way that is loud and confident, and unapologetic. I've come to appreciate how impenetrable my optimism is. I get sad, frustrated, and insecure, but I don't feel trapped in my negativity. No matter how much I dislike people, no matter how dark and scary the world seems to be, I somehow manage to find reasons to smile.

5. How have your life goals changed?

I've added more life goals whether that would be the long-term or the short term. Some goals have been taking me a long time to achieve, but I don't think I've ever given up on a goal. There might have been some advice my peers have given me, I try them and then decide they aren't for me so I stop. But I don't think that counts...?

6. How have your relationships with your friends and family changed?

I'll start with family first. I've grown more emotionally distant from my siblings. Reese is still brotherly to me but he's involved with the school so much that he's evolved to a level of communication I cannot talk with. Aki just hates me. Gwen is difficult to talk to, we're on different levels of development. I don't really have the desire to grow closer to them. I still want to maintain a good relationship with my parents. My relationship with my mom hasn't changed. I've grown to appreciate my dad more. Although my dad has a bad case of Trump derangement syndrome. All he watches is neo-lib socialists that make whole-ass careers outta saying "Orange man bad" a million different ways. I'm not political by the way, I just don't understand how my dad is entertained by this. Despite that, I love my dad and now that he's retired, I can look back at how hard he worked to give my family a great life. Outside my immediate family, I've spent quality time with my cousin for girl talk, which is nice. Next, I shall talk about my friends. Friendship is difficult to maintain as an adult. Especially if you aren't going to the same school or working at the same job. I've already discussed the rough patch with my boyfriend but we are improving things. I have other friends but I just don't know how to say hi or strike up a good conversation. I crave connection, I get frustrated at small talk or when I feel like I'm not being fully understood. This is why I talk to my confidante so much. The conversations we have feel meaningful. I'm anxious that I spilled my spaghetti on him sometimes. Edit: I don't like going back and removing my thoughts from my diary after I post but geez -a-loo I made a classic example of spilling my damn spaghetti. Our relationship has gone through some changes but I ended up focusing too much on the negative because I let my pride and ego cloud my judgment. You could tell I my head was up my ass cuz I focused too much on how it was affecting me and not the fact that I should be worried about how he's been sick and was making concerning jokes about himself. I'll write more about this concept but damn I needed an ego check. I really want to try to become proper friends with my art senpai. But I will have to get over my inferiority complex if I want to grow closer.

7. What do you wish you worried about less?

This is going to sound incredibly cliche, but I wish I would just stop worrying about what other people think. I still do and it's stunted my growth, it is almost in the realm of ruining my life. I want to stop letting people affect my mood, stop waiting to hear other people's opinions, and stop pretending like I understand how people are feeling when I really don't. The Healthy Gamer put out a video about rejection sensitivity and it pretty much summed up my problem

youtube

This is why I can't seem to sit with neutral or negative social interactions. All logic tells me that I won't loose my confidante as a friend, but the fact that I'm feeling the lack of presence or maybe feelings of disapproval more than anything positive makes me anxious. I end up spiraling and I keep asking myself what should I do to fix this now that I've fucked up the friendship. I think this also why I have a desire to be babied. A baby or a little girl will most likely have immediate approval just by existing. There's safety in knowing that whatever I do will be met with patience understanding and support, and not the risk of judgment or disappointment. It also leads into body dysmorphia, a problem I have relapsed into again and again when I thought I was over it. "Oh if only I was smaller and cuter people would like me, they'd want to take care of me, but instead I'm a tall ugly adult woman who's a total crybaby and needs to grow tf up." The dysmorphia really fucks with me and I wish it wasn't just a problem for me in 2023.

8. What is your funniest memory of the year?

I can't really think of anything Laugh out loud funny memories. I was more stressed out than laughing. If I had to pick it would be the strange Chicago whether that brought upon holiday tone switches. On Halloween, there was a big snowstorm. The snow didn't stick and pile on the ground for too long but just the amount made it difficult to walk or drive in it. You'd think something like this would happen on Christmas but no. On Christmas Eve there was a thick layer of fog that made my town feel like Silent Hill. I'm not kidding, the stores and Christmas decorations made everything feel so creepy and liminal. It was the strangest thing. It's funny how things turned out like that.

9. What new or renewed friendships do you cherish?

I cherish the friendships I have now. The only ones I can think of is the friendships I want to renew or plan to add to my life. I want to be proper friends with my art senpai, this is true. There are also a few friendships I've grown distant from due to being busy. One of my closer friends seems to have left Discord out of nowhere and I need to find a new way of contacting him.

10. What bad habits do you wish you'd changed?

Ohhhh so many bad habits I should have dropped yesterday. To list off a few, general laziness is a big one, overeating, and over-stimulation leading to short dopamine bursts; i.e. laying on my bed watching YouTube videos or worse watching pornography. There's also negative self-talk and the habit of jumping to bad conclusions. We've talked about how I'm so afraid of rejection and negative reactions from others. I also want to stop being so conflict-avoidant. I don't want drama, but I don't want to tolerate bad vibes in my life like I normally do just to keep a social circle or just to keep the peace. If there is conflict I want to limit how sensitive I can be. I'm just a sensitive person and I don't think that will change. But being overly sensitive has held me back in terms of social competency. I can't just take a joke, and I get overbearing to others like constantly asking how they are feeling. If I'm too clingy I end up trying to be too present in their lives. If I don't get a text back that causes a spiral of self-blame. Day ruined. I also want to stop touching and picking at my face so much. I'm getting older and my skin will not be as forgiving if I pop a zit and it leaves a scar after picking so much at the scab it left. Some good habits I want to introduce in my life are waking up early again, going to the gym every day, regulating my emotions through meditation, washing my face every day, keeping a weekly schedule, reading more books instead of fucking around on YT, exercising my creative muscle more, eating healthy, and cleaning my room regularly. All of this will be helpful on my journey to excellency.

11. What theme do you want the next year to take?

I will be doing a lot more self-exploration. But I will not be just sitting around waiting for an epiphany. The quest for excellecy requires me to take action. So my theme for 2024 will be turning into a fully realized woman. I've been a woman for a long time now, but during that time, I had an aversion to calling myself a woman or engaging in womanhood. I was carrying what most people would call internalized misogyny. I'm not talking about traditional women being class citizens to men and their only purpose is sex, making babies, and making sandwiches kind of misogyny. It's I don't understand women very well so I should just not try to engage in active feminity. That being having more female friends, wearing make-up, decorating, fashion- all these things I thought were choices made by women to impress other people. But I've discovered that engaging with yourself this way is all part of growing up, and self-acceptance. It's not that I hate women it's just that I've yet to realize who I am as a woman. My identity is very weak. It might be why people find me boring after a while. There's nothing about me to latch on to, nothing solid. When you are a child you can wear whatever you want, roll around in a messy bedroom, and be fluid with your identity. It's not an issue specific to women, but I am a woman and I want to emphasize that. I'd say I'm an artist before saying I'm a woman. I don't mean take a megaphone and shout to everyone about my pretty pink princess. I want to make more independent choices for myself. I want to fully engage with my interests and not just observe them on the sidelines. I want to decorate my room all coquette and princess-y. My art senpai is what inspired this need in me. She doesn't just express her excellency through her art but I consider her a fully realized woman, brimming with confidence and maturity. I want to be the kind of woman that knows what she wants. It's a big reason why I wish to be proper friends with her. This leads me to my next point; having more female friends. You might notice that my life is very male-centered. The most trusted people in my life are my boyfriend, my confidante (who is male), and my dad. Plus all my other friends are guys. Having a lot of men in my life is not inherently bad. I love the men in my life very much. But I always thought something was missing from my relationships. There was a lack of freedom in conversation that I could not achieve with my male peers. To do this I must get over the hurdle of anxiety in messing up or failing to make a true connection.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

End of part one (kinda) I think I'm going to save the rest of what I wanted to say until tomorrow. Until then Happy New Year. I will appreciate how much I've changed!

#personal #diary #Youtube #me

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tlshfkthroxld23 · 1 year

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시라노소개팅 어플 후기 채팅 만남 사이트 앱 리

시라노소개팅 어플 후기 채팅 만남 사이트 앱 리뷰

시라노소개팅 어플 후기 채팅 만남 사이트 앱 리

On December 8, 2019, 'Kim Nam-gil's Strongest Show in the Universe - Winnie Dew' was held hosted by Gilstory. The Strongest Show in the Universe, held for the first time this time, is one of Gilstory's public art campaigns, and is a donation event held at the end of each year. It is a donation show sponsored by all cast members participating in talent donation. For about 4 hours, they performed 15 songs and danced and rapped, which is not normally shown. Ju Ji-hoon, Park Seong-woong, Uhm Jung-hwa, Eum Moon-seok, Lee Sang-yeop, Ko Gyu-pil, and Kim Min-sik were present as guests, and the host was Hwang Je-seong, and all proceeds from the performance were donated to Gilstory and will be used to support public art campaigns. 2019 Kim Nam-gil's strongest show in the universe, revisited in pictures

On December 3, 2022, Gilstory's signature donation show, 'Kim Nam-gil's Strongest Show in the Universe - Gillibus' was held. Due to COVID-19, which started to become popular in 2020, it was held three years after 'Winney Dew' in 2019. Im Si-wan, professor Kwon Il-yong, Jung Man-sik, Seong-jun, the drama Thief: The Sound of a Knife team, Baek Jong-won, the movie Guardian team, and Man Pictures CEO Han Jae-deok participated in the donation as guests. Jang Seong-gyu was in charge of the progress, and Kim Nam-gil and guests conducted a mission together with the goal of collecting 10 million won in donations, and donations were accumulated according to the results. It is rumored that the ticket price was not a waste at all as the stage was filled with a total of 7 songs, stories and events for 4 hours and 40 minutes. All proceeds from this performance will be used to spread animal rights awareness for animals appearing in the media and to treat and protect abused animals. Donation articles, campaign related articles Kim Nam-gil worked really hard on the set. Usually, other actors are done when the camera passes by, but Kim Nam-gil was acting more desperately, making use of that emotion from behind. An actor must have a deficiency. Kim Nam-gil also had a deficiency. He had the problem of having to go to the military this year, and there was also anxiety about being forgotten by the public after he did. During the first filming, Kim Nam-gil injured his foot. He was wearing thin shoes and running down a hill covered with small stones, but his foot broke. I need a few more scenes, so I asked him if he could play, and he said yes. "I'm in the 31st batch of MBC public recruitment, and I've been feeling the sadness of being unknown for 7 years." I really gritted my teeth and acted.

Some people might say that actor Kim Nam-gil changed because of Bidam's popularity, but the Kim Nam-gil I know is not that kind of person. He must be scared. Historical drama actors cannot realize their popularity because they are confined to the set during filming. It's scary when you go out. If you can't control yourself when you're up like this, you think you might collapse. Kim Nam-gil is a smart actor. He is also a good person. His mother underwent a major surgery in the middle of the drama, and I know that because of her mother's medical care, she remained silent even after the drama ended. Kim Geun-hong (PD, Drama 《Queen Seon-deok》) Kim Nam-gil values loyalty, and he was a good actor and decent man who didn't boast about being popular. During his interviews, he was also a man with a blank space who would throw out jokes while talking seriously about acting. Marie Claire Editor As soon as the filming begins, he turns into a different person from him. He is very focused and takes good care of his co-stars. He usually jokes around a lot and is a mischievous person. He is the complete opposite of me. I put a lot of effort into maintaining that feeling from the day before shooting. Like Mr. Nam-gil, if only the camera is turned, it cannot change 180 degrees. I envy that concentration. Hwang Woo-Seul-Hye (Actress, Movie 《The Night Before the Storm》) On the set, Kim Nam-gil was like a vitamin, and he devoted all his passion. He is an actor who exudes passionate energy even in silent times. Cho Chang-ho (director, movie 《The Night Before the Storm》) First of all, Nam Gil-hyung is an actor who is very good at acting, so when I was filming on location in Japan, I always went to see his brother filming even when I was not filming. There are so many things to learn, and we talk a lot while filming. But he's a bit of an unpredictable person, so he's very serious, and then he suddenly jokes around, so it feels like he's holding a time bomb when he's with him. Oh, in a good way. (laughs) Kim Jae-wook (Actor, Drama 《Bad Guy》) Kim Nam-gil does a lot of research before filming his scene. I have a headache because I prepare detailed performances by analyzing the script more than the director. Kim Nam-gil is an actor who has an indefinable feeling, a strong feeling regardless of good or evil. Kim Nam-gil, seen through the screen, is truly the best. I think Kim Nam-gil will probably become the best actor in Asia. Lee Hyeong-min (PD, drama 《Bad Guy》)

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81dot444fm · 2 years

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One time there was a cat in our house. Long story short, it wasn’t a cat. Howeber I had convinced myself it was a rare green fur Breed. It was trying so hard I didn't want it to get sad. Like the meow! It made many attempts to meow but it ended up making this lil GORGLE GRRRRGGGUUURROORR sound. Very cute :3 it made a mess though. Dead leaves everywhere. Green stains. The season of cleaning had come early.

Then Iola came home and it felt like they did a little pee when they saw the cat.

The feeling I remind you. Not actually little peeing. Because they're only made of bones.

They didn't yell or shout or anything like that. The dark void in their eyes got larger for a second, then sank like sand bags.

They walked up, took the pile of what made it to be a cat and tossed it out the window. Iola said it could come back if its willing to participate in cleaning season.

I remembered this story because it's kinda how I got kicked out just now. The ceiling of big eyed staglagiti were coming down on me. Their purple stain antlers now touching the ground. This is when I started running and running. I wish it wasn't so scary because it smelled so pleasant. A little strong though. Maybe this is why iola doesn't drink the strong coffee stuff. Some point I was getting bucked. Like a lot of bucks pushing back. They're blocking the forward way now. The lights are bright. It didn't occur to me their eyes glow. Very bright and very vibratey. So vibratey they start spinning. Not their eyes. The heads. They all start spinning together. Anticlock wise. Like they're gonna shave off everything I got. Like uhhh when you don't like a piece of wood and u wanna make it baby smooth. I felt like I was gonna turn into a smooth wood baby. There was nowhere to run.

Going forward was not an option. Maybe I could be alive.

I had the genius Idea...of going...backwards.

I was told the tale of this guy. He had a cute girlfriend. But he sucked and had to go grab her. But this time he couldnt look at her. Otherwise she goes oops now i have to ditch u this time teehee! Byye!

And enter a very sad sad man.

The moral I got was never look back. So I usually don't look back. Buuuttt

Butt buut but

It's gotta happen when i could maybe surely die right?

So I did.

I turned. They're all still spinning but they weren't blocking my way. Like a bunch of guards at a cool castle they form a path. Not even 30 of my steps I'm right below the entrance. Not as high as it was before. I looked back again and the cave looks as when I first saw it. Staglags high above. No eyes. No spinning. Just above with purple wet antlers.

I got out. It wasn't raining anymore. No coffee smell. I kinda missed it. I went to put my head in the cave hole to peek at one last sniff.

I did sniff but a lone staglag face was staring at me. It had no other friends with it so spelling something out for me was a bit hard. Stare showdowns don't do much so I just pet its little nose. And gave it a little slow blink.

Hope a blink wasn't offensive cause it did a sniff, went back down the cave hold and stuck a rock through the entrance.

If you love a friend so much. Sometimes it's best to love them from far away. Really far. I'm walking away now.

#walking #coffee #i think ive been up for a little over 16 hours now. more? i should find a proper place to sit. with less cave this time

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princehrry-writings · 3 years

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Angel with a Shotgun

here we go. this popped into my head after i watched a tiktok about angel shots. if you go on a date and don't feel safe for any reason, please please please find a safe way to remove yourself!! asking for an angel shot is a great way to do that!!

WARNING: tw mentions of implied SA, stalking, harassment, police, EMT's, hospitals, alcohol, being drugged, swearing,

please don't read this if any of this stuff makes you uncomfortable. i don't get graphic with anything but still, put yourself first and be safe!! i love you <3

wordcount: 1907

Harry Styles x Reader

masterlist

It started off as a normal night. Y/n had met this guy in class and he’d asked her out for drinks. She didn’t get any bad vibes from him, none of her friends had heard anything bad about him, so she deemed him a suitable guy to go have a fun night with.

She’d met him at a bar just off campus and was having a really great night! The pair were dancing and talking and laughing, genuinely enjoying herself for the first time in a long time on a first date.

In Y/n’s experience, usually guys were creeps and girls never decided she was what they were looking for, so she had a hard time in the dating world. This guy, Jack his name is, seemed ok. Keyword being seemed.

She should have known. When he asked to meet her at a bar all the way across town, she should have put it together that he wasn’t what she was looking for. He didn’t put up too big of a fight when she insisted they meet at the bar closer to campus, that way she would know people there and be in a familiar place if she needed to get away from him quickly.

When he started making comments that were off putting to her, things she doesn’t really want to repeat in fear of actually vomiting all over the table, she starts looking for a way out. He keeps trying to play footsie with her under the table and is getting visibly frustrated at her lack of participation, so she tells him she’s going to get them another round of drinks after finishing the one that was already on the table and quickly exits the booth before he can protest.

Harry had been watching from across the room at the bar, seeing this couple who looked like they were on a first date. He watched as they laughed and talked, getting to know each other. But as the night went on, it seemed the woman was getting more and more uncomfortable.

He had told his coworkers to keep an eye out for the two in case anything was to go down, and when he sees her get up and make her way over to his bar, he has a feeling he knows where this is going.

“What can I get for you, love?” He asks her, leaning over the counter to hear her better. She sniffles a little, and takes a deep breath. Leans in before timidly asking.

“Can I get an angel shot?”

Harry’s senses are quickly kicked into gear and he nods, gesturing to his coworker that he’s gonna get this taken care of before meeting her on the other side of the bar. What neither of them had realized was that 1. Jack was walking up to them and 2. he had slipped something into her drink apparently because suddenly she could barely hold her own body weight. Harry caught her before she hit the ground and Jack rushed over, playing the part of concerned boyfriend but the bartender saw right through it.

“Sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to back up.” He tells the man, authority very present in his voice. Jack doesn’t take well to this, eyebrows furrowing and voice lowering in defense.

“S’cuse me mate, but I’m gonna take my girl home. She’s had a few too many, f’you know what I mean.” He chuckles and goes to scoop her up. Harry stops him, putting a hand on the guy's chest, stepping between the girl and this guy.

“You'll do no such thing. This girl has obviously been roofied and it’s you she was running away from. The only thing you’ll be doing tonight is talking to the police, who are making their way in right now to do with you what they will.” Harry says, watching the color drain from this bloke's face. He turned around, ready to make a full run for it but was stopped by not only the police but also a crowd of other guys who heard what was going down and were ready to step in if assistance was needed.

“I didn’t do anything wrong here! She was trying to take advantage of me!” He cries as he’s put in handcuffs and taken away.

“Yeah, it’s obvious the one who’s passed out cold because she was drugged was trying to take advantage of you.” Harry yells after him before turning around and scooping the girl into his arms. Due to the commotion and the presence of not only police but also paramedics, the premises was cleared and the bar was shut down for the night. Harry held the passed out girl close to his body, having had his coworker fetch his jacket from the break room to keep her warm now that the club wasn’t filled with body heat, and waited for the paramedics to come in for her.

When they come in and place her on the gurney, she starts to stir. Little whines and groans escape from her and the EMT’s check her vitals, deeming her stable and letting Harry know she’s going to be ok. He decided to follow to the hospital just so she has a familiar face when she wakes up and has someone to explain her situation that isn’t a scary doctor.

. *

It’s a few hours of unrestful sleep at her bedside and his co-worker showing up with a change of clothes for him when she finally starts to come to.

Groaning and reaching up to hold her head but realizing her arms are too heavy to move, she rasps out, “Where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital,” Harry explains, wanting to reach out and hold her hand but not wanting to startle her, “You’re ok but the doctors wanted to keep you overnight for observation.”

“You’re the bartender I asked for the angel shot aren’t you?” She questions after a pregnant pause. He hums a confirmation and she looks over his face a few times, before tears well in her eyes.

“What happened?” A few tears fall from her eyes. She can’t remember much after leaving the table, just the sight of green eyes and curly brown hair nodding at her when she asked for the shot. The rest is pretty much a blur, just random flashes of scenes she can’t quite make out in her head.

“You came over and asked me for the shot and then a few minutes later you passed out. The bloke you were with slipped something in your drink. And unless something happened at the table that I didn’t see, then nothing else happened. Do you remember anything happening at the table?” He explains, hoping her answer is no.

He’d learned her name from the EMT’s who checked your ID once you were loaded into the ambulance but he didn’t know the name of the man she was with. He realizes she doesn’t know his name either.

“No, was just being a sleazy dick. I don’t know how he could have slipped me something, I didn’t get up before I went to you. Must’ve turned my head for a bit too long. God, I should’ve known this was gonna happen!” She groans but he shakes his head.

“You can’t blame yourself for this, darling! He’s a sleazeball, a no good lowlife. S’not your fault.”

“What’s your name?” She voices, peering into his pretty green eyes.

“M’Harry,” he smiles, timidly reaching for her hand, rubbing his thumb soothingly across the soft skin.

“Thank you for staying with me Harry! For helping me…” Y/n says quietly. He shakes his head with a small smile.

“No need to thank me, pet. Would do it over and over again.”

Her smile, while tired and defeated, was enough to show him her gratitude. She feels a weight lift off her chest, hearing that nothing bad happened after she got to him.

She knows it’s probably just nightingale syndrome, but Y/n thinks Harry is terribly adorable. With his messy brown curls and tired green eyes that make it look like he hasn’t slept in ages. She thinks she could see herself going out with him, which is an odd thought considering what happened last night. You’d think that would be enough to turn her off to men for good, but there's just something about him. But now isn’t the time to bring any of that up.

“I’ll call a nurse, tell em’ you’re awake.” He voiced, making his way to the door after gently placing her hand back on the bed.

. * .

“Ms. I’m just calling to let you know the restraining order has gone through. You won’t have to worry about him anymore.”

Y/n felt a weight lift off her chest. After months of being harassed and stalked, she would finally be left alone. Harry leaned in, pressing a kiss to her cheek, stroking the loose hair out of her face.

“S’ finally over, lovie. It’s all over!.” He whispered in her ear, pulling her closer to him, rubbing up and down her thighs. She felt tears spring to her eyes, tears of relief, tears of joy, but also tears of sadness because the last few months had been some of the hardest of her life. She was ready to move on and be done with this nightmare.

When Jack had found out Y/n and Harry got together after that night, it’s like it activated something inside him. Like he thought she was just playing hard to get and he had to literally stalk her to get her attention. He seemed to think she was playing a game. Somewhere in his twisted little mind he had the audacity to think she actually wanted him.

He’d sit right next to her every single class period and would get up and move next to her when she tried to get away with him. He’d show up at her house, sitting across the street just watching her front door, he’d call her phone and text her, he’d wait outside her other classes and follow her around campus. She complained to her university, told them what was going on and they didn’t really do anything. She went to campus security and they brushed it off because “She wasn’t in any danger. He just wants to get to know you.”

So she finally was forced to file a restraining order. Her case was still open, from when he got arrested that night at the bar. They're charging him with second degree assault and criminal harassment because apparently she’s not the only girl he’s done this to. Many other women had spoken up since news of that night had spread around campus. Yet still, the university did nothing.

Harry stood by you every step of the way, picking up the shattered pieces on hard days. He wanted to beat the shit out of this guy and he would if it wouldn’t interfere with the case. He knew you needed him and he didn’t want to chance anything.

There was a pregnant silence between the two lovers. Just letting the silence wash over them, letting themselves breath freely without this weight suffocating them, they basked in it.

It wasn’t completely over, because there was still a trial, but he wouldn’t be coming around without getting arrested again.

That was enough for Y/n to breathe easy.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #x reader #harry x reader #bartender!harry #bartender!harry styles x reader #bartneder!harry x reader #harry x y/n #harry styles one shot #harry styles au #bartender!harry styles #tw sa #one direction #fan fiction #one shot #angel shot

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randomshyperson · 3 years

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Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Road to Healing

Gif is not mine.

Summary: The one where you and Wanda travel around the country while grieving together. / Inspired by road trip-themed movies.

Read Complete work on AO3 too.

Warnings> Explicit language (cursing) , mentions of death, grieve and panic attacks. Mainly fluff and sad.

Words: 4.299K (Oneshot)

When Thanos won, you didn't have time to grieve. Immediately on the battlefield, you were responsible for helping to heal the wounded. And you were exhausted when it was over.

And then S.H.I.E.L.D. was triggered, and you knew they would take Vision if they found him. You thought Wanda wouldn't want that. And you ignored the intense pain you felt at the thought of her, and repeated to yourself that you wouldn't want that either. So you used Tony's technology to bring Vision's body back to the Avengers compound. And then you told them that Thanos had destroyed him along with the jewel, and that's what they wrote in their reports.

When you finally returned home, you only slept after you had organized a memorial for him. You didn't ask your colleagues to participate. The remaining avengers just seemed empty. So you left them alone.

Your hands trembled when you touched the knob of Wanda's room. You were looking for a picture of Vis. You found it eventually. When you left the room, your shirt was wet with your tears.

You thought Vision would like a view of the sea. So you left his body in a black wooden coffin, and buried it on the edge of the hill a few meters from the exit of the complex. You figured that Vision wasn't religious, so you just used the 3D printer to create a little iron plate, and stuck it against the ground.

You could not sleep that night. And the next. When you finally did, your panic attacks started. But the emergency calls started coming in, and you knew you had no time for grief. The world needed you now.

You learned to deal with the panic, but the nightmares continued. So you accepted more assignments, until you were too exhausted to dream. And then you got used to it.

And like the snap of a finger, five years passed.

When you defeated Thanos, you fell to your knees. You couldn't find Natasha. And then you couldn't breathe. You realize what was happening, you knew they were back. But you can't go through this again. Because the world needs you again. And then you calm down, and you stand up. And then you are walking.

Steve doesn't come back. You think you hear Bucky crying in his room. But you don't say anything, because he doesn't like to talk about it.

You take Wanda to the tomb of Vision two days before Tony's funeral. She sobs against you as you hug her, your own tears preventing you from seeing your surroundings clearly. You haven't left her side since.

After Tony's funeral is over, you destroy the items in your room with a bat. When you fall to the ground, Wanda sits beside you quietly, and holds your hand. She doesn't mind you shouting Nat's name along with your sobs.

- I can't stay here anymore. - You tell her the next night, while you are in your room. - I can't breathe in this place. - You confess with tears on your face. - I feel like I'm going to die.

Wanda intertwines your hands.

- Let's leave then.

You let out a long sigh, trying to control your tears. And then you nod.

Your mood improves considerably once you are out of the compound. You don't think about Nat, or Tony, or Steve, because if you do, your hands start to shake. But you think about healing. You think about being there for your best friend.

And then you decide to live. And you hold both of Wanda's hands when you tell her that you are going to travel. Travel to all the places she hasn't visited in the United States.

You want to remember that there are still things to live for. You want Nat to be proud of you.

When Wanda nods in agreement, you smile, and hug her. And then you get a truck, and you let Wanda hold the map.

It is hot and humid, and you drum your fingers against the steering wheel, humming softly the pop song playing on the radio.

Wanda fell asleep against the passenger seat some time ago, and it has been a few hours since you left the small motel where you were staying after leaving the Avengers compound.

You are hungry, so you stop the car at the first dinner you find. The loss of movement of the vehicle awakens Wanda.

- Hey sleepyhead. - You joke as you take out your key, and look for your wallet in the glove compartment. - Let's go get something to eat.

You walk to the diner, which is practically empty. Wanda doesn't seem to be fully awake yet, but smiles at you when she catches you looking. You sit down on opposite sides of the table.

- I'll have the eggs and bacon, and pancakes, please. - You tell the waitress, and Wanda gives you a curious look. She orders cereal and chocolate waffles.

- Why are we having breakfast for dinner? - she asks with a smile.

You shrug, laughing lightly.

- It's always time for pancakes.

Wanda looks at you for a moment, and you look back. And then you are having a blinking contest. The waitress gives you a judgmental look when she interrupts the game, but you and Wanda smile and thank her for the food.

You finish eating first, and are distracted by one of the crossword puzzle magazines that the restaurant leaves under the tables.

- Hey, Wands, help me with this one. - You say slightly distracted as you run your pencil across the paper. - "One word. Destined for belonging. Companionship. Devotion" Do you have any idea what it is?

- Soulmates. - Wanda says before chewing another piece of waffle. You let out a contented exclamation when the word fits, and smile at her, who just winks at you, smiling back.

- Does this taste good? - you ask, watching her eat. She nods, pushing her plate toward you. Wanda hands you her own fork to taste the waffles. They are very good, but you don't want to eat any more.

You can't finish your crossword puzzle, and you return the magazine to the table compartment before you leave the restaurant.

And then it is Wanda's turn to drive. You sit in the passenger seat, and turn up the radio as you get back on the road. You wish you could stay awake at night to keep Wanda company, but it only takes four songs for you to fall asleep.

It is morning when you arrive in Virgina. And it is cold enough for you to wrap Wanda in a scarf when she refuses to warm up properly. She just laughs with flushed cheeks when you let her go. You rent a room with two beds, and after you shower, Wanda goes into the bathroom.

You are browsing through the channels when she comes back with a towel wrapped in her hair, she smells good even from a distance.

- Do you want to go out to eat, or do you want to order a pizza? - you ask.

- Pizza. - She replies as she lies down on the bed.

You need to go out and look for a pay phone, because both of your cell phones are off and in the bottom of one of the boxes you are carrying in the truck.

- Shall we watch a movie? - she asks when you come back into the room.

- Comedy or horror? - You counter with a question as you kick off your shoes. Wanda bites her lip thoughtfully.

- Both.

You smile as you hang your coat on the door.

You have been watching "Scary Movie" for twenty minutes when the pizza arrives. Wanda pauses the movie while you stand up and pay the delivery man.

She uses her powers to drag the coffee table into the space between the two beds, and you place the pizza on top of the wood and sit cross-legged on Wanda's bed.

Eventually, you finish the pizza and wipe your hands with napkins. And then Wanda lets the movie sequence continue, and you remain in her bed with the excuse that it was cold. You fall asleep at the end of the second film, but you wake up in the early morning hours with Wanda's hand against your waist. You don't think you should get used to the feeling, so you get up and go back to your bed.

Wanda cries when you arrive in Virginia Beach. You know it is the view of the sea, which reminded her of the tomb of Vision. You stand silently beside her as you entwine your hands. Wanda doesn't let go until you get back to the car.

It's cold, and you shouldn't have ice cream. But you do it anyway. You and Wanda stop at a drive-thru, and have your milkshakes while you drive toward Tennessee.

You let her have the rest of your ice cream even though she's had many tastes already.

On one of the roads, you stop the car on the roadside. You try to normalize your breathing.

- I'm here. - She says next to you in a gentle voice, as she lets you squeeze her hand over your lap. - You are safe.

You exchange directions for a while.

- So you have never been to Disney? - You ask between one lighthouse and another, somewhere in North Carolina.

Wanda denies it with a smile and a nod. She has only one hand on the wheel, and her hair is shining in the sun. You scold yourself for looking.

- Since we can't afford Disney, we should pick something cheap to do - You tell her while looking at one of the tour guides you found at the motel.

- I don't mind just driving around. - she says. You bite the smile from your lips.

- Yeah, me neither.

It takes two weeks for you to talk about Natasha. You have changed routes many times now, and then you sit in the back of the truck, and look at the stars. And Wanda asks you about your nightmares. You say that you dream that Nat is falling, and that you can never reach her. You fall asleep together in the back of the car, many blankets wrapped around you.

When you wake up holding each other, neither of you really minds.

You are near Chicago when you drag Wanda to an arcade in the late afternoon.

You and Wanda try out all the toys that are allowed for you. It's fun, and loud. And you laugh so hard your cheeks hurt.

And then you eat hamburger and fries with soda sitting in a parking lot. You push Wanda's shoulder lightly with yours when she steals one of your fries.

You are in a clothing bazaar when you see Wanda's breasts for the first time. In between trying on various strange outfits for fun, the fifth or sixth time you return to the changing room, Wanda pulls you into the cabin with her. And she smiles so much that you hardly notice them.

When you get back to the motel, you bathe first. You touch yourself in the shower without really thinking about anything, but when you cum, the image of her breasts are in your mind.

In Michigan you bet on a race. And Wanda absolutely beats you. She has flushed cheeks and a sweaty face when you catch up with her. You think it's unfair that she looks so beautiful.

You watch the sunset, and Wanda thinks she has seen an owl.

Your body begins to betray you when Wanda hugs you and you tremble. You decide that it is because you have been a long time without touching another person intimately and being touched in the same way.

You joke with Wanda that you need to find a one-night stand, and she doesn't smile when she agrees with you.

As you drive towards Kansas, a waitress flirts with you. Wanda gets back in the car saying that she is tired, and you don't understand why kissing the waitress against a wall while she has one hand down your pants doesn't satisfy you.

You talk about death in Springfield. You are sharing popcorn while wrapped in a blanket sitting on the grass a few feet from the truck.

- You can't die. - She declares suddenly and you raise your eyebrows in surprise.

- Wanda...?

- I won't... I won't survive.

You turned around quickly, and held up both your hands.

- I wouldn't like that. - You tell her. You know it's what she doesn't want to hear, but you need her to understand that. - I would never want your life to depend on mine.

Wanda sobs, lowering her head.

- I wish you would move on. - You nod to reaffirm her statement, your own face wet with tears. - I know... people expect me to say that I wish you would miss me, or not replace me. But I don't feel that way. - You confess. - I never want to be the reason for your unhappiness. If I die, and well, at some point I will, I want you to go on living. And enjoying it.

Wanda shakes her head, and jumps on your neck. She cries against your collarbone, but it's okay. You think she understood what you told her.

When she calms down, you are silent for several moments.

- What will you do if I die? - she asks, looking at you. You keep your gaze on the stars as you shrug;

- I would die too.

Wanda bites back a smile on her lips, and hugs you.

Bucky calls. You talk for five minutes. And then you text him that when he is ready you will be there to listen to him. You send a picture of you and Wanda, and when he calls again, you talk for five hours.

It takes four weeks since you left the compound to realize that you are in love with Wanda.

You are in a motel somewhere in Nebraska, and she is combing her hair in front of the television, a sitcom playing. And then she laughs, and you realize.

The realization doesn't surprise you though. You take a deep breath, and tell her you're going to get some air before you leave.

You lean back on the balcony, trying to push the guilt away. You can hardly believe it happened so fast and so intensely.

You decide that everything is too recent, and that it would be disrespectful to Wanda's grief, so you guard yourself.

You fight for the first time in Colorado. You are being stubborn and rude, and Wanda is being distant and judgmental. And then you are arguing about the next destination. And then you stop the car on the roadside, and Wanda says she's not going anywhere with you. And you are silent for forty minutes before you two start to cry.

You put your face against the steering wheel, and Wanda lifts her legs onto the seat and buries her face in her own arms.

It takes a long moment for you to calm down. And then you wipe away your tears and Wanda looks away into the window, and you drive away again.

You are staying in Utah for a few days. It is the first time you ask for separate rooms. You want to cry again, but you just take the key.

And then you can't sleep after four hours as you stare at the ceiling.

You get up, and go out onto the veranda. And your feet guide you to the next door. But before you can knock, Wanda opens it, and jumps into you, hugging you tight. Your body instantly relaxes, and you cry as you both apologize, and promise never to fight again.

You get drunk in Las Vegas. Really drunk. You don't remember ever laughing as hard as you did that night. You think Wanda used her powers to win the games, but you can't prove it. And then you're back in the truck, stumbling and laughing, and she has a look on her face that makes your stomach turn with nervousness.

But you swallow your nervousness with a smile, and accept the bottle of vodka she offers you. And then you are in a karaoke bar, singing at the top of your lungs for two hours into the early morning hours. When the owner kicks you out, Wanda holds your hand as you both run around town.

Back at the motel, you are laughing about something you can't remember, and then you fall into bed together, and instantly fall asleep.

When you wake up, you don't care about your headache.

You get the same tattoo in Las Vegas. Wanda holds and squeezes your hand while you are doing it, and you do the same to her. The tattoo artist thought you were married, and neither of you corrects him.

And then you take her to all the tourist spots, and you have ice cream and hot dogs. And Wanda's hand is warm against yours all the way.

On your last day in LA, you visit a nightclub. It is noisy, and lively, and has lots of alcohol. You find it hard to breathe when you see Wanda in a party dress, but she smiles and you follow her.

And then you dance and dance and dance, and you think about nothing. And then you're drunk again, and the girl at the bar is flirting with you. And Wanda's no longer smiling when she gets back on the dance floor.

You think the girl at the bar has asked for your number, but you're looking at Wanda dancing. And she moves her body with sensuality, and then there is a man behind her. Wanda kisses him while looking at you through the lights.

You take a shot of whiskey before leaving in a rage.

And when Wanda wakes up in the morning, she says she doesn't remember anything.

You think that you can no longer hide what you feel when you are on the road, heading for Oregon. But you just keep mumbling the song that plays on the radio.

Wanda bites her lip and has a lost look on her face, but when you ask her what's wrong, she looks away quickly as she says she was just distracted.

You are entertained by the music again.

You get used to your feelings in Portland. The routine helps you keep them quiet and buried deep in your chest.

You and Wanda begin to spend more time in inns, and camping, than on the road, but you still travel around the country.

And then Wanda talks about Vision for the first time. How important he had been, how much she missed him. You listen, and she asks about Nat. And you say that it is exactly the same way.

Neither of you cries anymore at the mention of their names.

It doesn't take long before the world needs you again. Sam calls. Stephen calls. You and Wanda throw your cell phones off a cliff, while toasting a lemonade.

- We are terrible superheroes, aren't we? - you ask looking at the horizon.

- The worst. - She replies before pouring her drink into her mouth.

You get your numbers back the same day by going to an electronics store.

And then you have to go back to New York.

Four hours down the road, and you both stop for a bite to eat in Cleveland, at a diner very similar to the one at your first stop.

Wanda walks ahead of you, hugging her own sweatshirt as she feels the late afternoon chill. You resist the urge to hug her.

- I'll have the waffles with chocolate and cereal. - You ask the waitress. Wanda stares at the menu for a few more seconds, biting her lower lip before speaking.

- I'll have the eggs and bacon with pancakes. - She asks right away.

You are silent for a moment, exchanging glances and quick smiles. And then the waitress returns with your plates.

- Are you ready to save the world again, Wandy? - you ask with a light irony in your voice before tasting your ceral.

Wanda smiles.

- Of course, of course. - She answers with humor. But her expression slowly falls, as if she is remembering something. You look at her with curiosity and concern.

- Are you all right?

- I just... - She begins. And then she straightens her posture, and diverts her eyes from yours. - What happens next? - You frown uncomprehendingly. Wanda looks unsure. - After we finish the job. This ends too?

You swallow dryly, feeling embarrassed and nervous. But you do your best to avoid showing it.

- Do you want it to end? - You ask.

- No. - She confesses as she looks into your eyes.- I'd like us to continue together.

- I'm not going anywhere, Wanda. - You assure her with a smile. And then you bite the inside of your cheek, feeling anxious. - Don't you... don't you wish you had a fixed place to stay?

Wanda blinks in confusion, looking surprised at your question.

- I just... I love the road and all. Mostly because you're with me. - You say, and don't notice her blush at the last sentence. - But I'd like to have a house. Especially now that we're going back to work. I wouldn't mind living in New York.

- Are you inviting me to move in with you? - Wanda asks with a mixture of curiosity and embarrassment, and you feel your face heat up.

- Yes, I ... I'd like that. - You say, and seeing Wanda's surprised expression, you hasten to add. - But I understand if you just want the road! That's fine, I'll stand by you too!

Wanda reaches your hand quickly over the table, and she has a huge smile on her lips.

- I would love to live with you.

- Oh. - You sigh ruefully, feeling as if a weight has been lifted from your back. - Cool.

- Cool. - Wanda repeats with a mischievous smile and a twinkle in her eye.

And then you go back to eating in silence.

You are in the passenger seat while Wanda hums a song along to the noise of the radio. It is dark and she is waiting for the first motel she can find to park. And you look at her, looking so good, and comfortable, and happy. And your brain is screaming how much you love her in an endless loop, while your heart threatens to explode in your chest.

So you think you'd better face the landscape because you're getting out of breath. But then Wanda is parking the car on the roadside, and you think maybe she's going to pee, but then she doesn't come out. You turn and find her gripping the steering wheel with both hands as she looks ahead.

- Hey, what happened? - you ask worriedly. Wanda closes her eyes.

- I read your mind.

The confession shocks you immediately.

- W-what? - You retort with a trembling voice.

Wanda opens her eyes, and lets go of the steering wheel. And she has a tender expression to calm you down.

- Hey, it's okay, I...

- No.

You mumble breathlessly, holding back tears, as you quickly unbuckle your seat belt and get out of the car.

You think you finally blew it. Wanda knew, and this was the end.

Leaning against the car, you hugged your arms as you tried to calm your breathing with your eyes closed. You were startled when Wanda touched your shoulders, not even having heard her get out of the car.

- I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. - You cried when she hugged you. Your body was shaking. - I tried to avoid it. I'm sorry.

- Stop saying that. - She asked softly, letting her hands caress your back to calm you down. - You didn't do anything wrong. - She tries to say it, but you hold her tight, afraid she'll be gone at any moment. - Hey, look at me.

Wanda asks a few more times before you let go, trying to control your tears. Only when you look at her do you realize that she too has a crying face.

- I don't want to lose you. - You whimper. - I'll control myself, I can send them away. And everything will go back to the way it was before.

Wanda denies it with her head, raising her hands to your face. You think she's going to say you both can't do this anymore, and your stomach flips.

- I love you. - She confesses, looking up at you. - I love you. - She repeats as she wipes your tears with her fingers. You're too shocked to react. - I love you so much.

And then Wanda kisses you. And you stumble with fright, but the car behind you won't let you move away from her body. And then your eyes close, and you surrender. A long sigh escapes your lips as you feel Wanda's tongue on yours.

And you kiss until you are breathless. And then your body is warm, trembling, and Wanda kisses you again, and again, as she presses you against the car.

And then you don't want to be dressed anymore, as Wanda lets her hands run all over you.

You don't separate your mouths as you fall into the back seat, Wanda on top moaning into your mouth.

The glass of the car is fogged as your hand slips on the window, trembling at Wanda's intimate touch, and delighting in the sounds she makes when you kiss her in all the right places.

You are happy. Fucking delighted. And you didn't want to keep driving, not unless it was to a house that was going to be yours and Wanda's. But Stephen and Sam were calling, saying that you were taking too long. Then you drove back to New York, and this time, Wanda's hand was entwined in yours.

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda vision #wandavision au #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #marvel imagines #road trip au

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thequeenindisguise · 3 years

Text

SOMEWHERE IN NEVERLAND (ICHIRUKI AU)

Here it is! My first and probably last entry for Ichiruki Month 2021... to be more specific, it’s for Day 11 with the prompt “What do you dream of?”

I think the last time I participated was like, what? Five years ago? Yikes. I didn’t even improve haha and okay, I know somewhere, sometime ago, someone has already done this AU though. And this was based off the amazing work of jon-lock from deviant art so this would look like crap next to his work. I mean I suck at coloring and at a bunch of other things, I know! But I just really felt like doing this.

I was actually thinking of writing a fic about it, but if I’m the one doing it, it’s probably going to be multi-chaptered and I just can’t commit to that. So if you know of any fics or fanart with the same theme, hope you can link them to me 😊 I’d really love to dive myself in them.

But despite saying that, it didn’t stop me from writing this silly one-shot called Somewhere In Neverland feel free to read and review there, if you have the time.

And now, if you read through all that, thank you so much for your time! Be safe, hope you enjoy the rest of your day and the rest of Ichiruki Month :D

And now for some more story time, you don’t need to read through this. It will be just me sharing some personal stuff… So feel free to move on with your life without this. Seriously. You can stop here if you just accidentally pressed the keep reading button, you are forgiven 😊

Oh… you’re still reading? Okay, then. So I’ve been really depressed lately, more on because my current job sucks, I just lost the opportunity to get my dream job, the pandemic’s still on-going and I just feel like nothing’s really going on with my life (T.T) I’m broke AF, it’s hard to fall asleep, my face is all pimply, I’ve gained a lot of weight and basically, this is just a low point for me.

Okay, I know that there are other people with much bigger problems than what I’m going through right now so I just try to deal with it on my own. I made a fanart, just to feel like I’m focusing on something and I actually finished the thing just to ease my mind of my worries. It was kinda therapeutic and I kind of like the feeling of actually accomplishing something. And I even mustered up the courage to join the discord server for IR. My anti-social ass was proud of that. I was even thinking of posting this fanart there just to show everyone that I really appreciate them for welcoming me but at the last minute I chickened out but ended up posting it here? I don’t know either. I’m weird like that. Even though everyone there seemed really fun and supportive, I just… didn’t want to ruin the vibe with my negative aura (the latest chapter was enough to trigger everyone. Didn’t wanna add to that).

Anyway, thinking about these past horrible days and listening to some really sad songs, because why not add to the drama? I was listening to one song about running away to “Neverland” and it got me thinking wouldn’t it be great if I were to just stay a kid forever? That way I wouldn’t have to deal with the pressures of adulthood. Then I thought about Wendy from Neverland and somehow I remembered that on that 2nd Disney movie, she grew up. And to confirm it, I just had to search for that clip on youtube. And yes, it was the part where Peter saw her as an adult and oh god, I kid you not, I started bawling. One, because I didn’t realize that I ship them… oops… and I wondered if Wendy, even as an adult, ever thought of what it’d be like if she had stayed in Neverland. Then I also found this deleted scene from the live action movie which showed Peter reuniting with her, hoping to take her back but he couldn’t anymore because she’s all grown up, and he was so heartbroken by it but then she introduces him to her daughter, with who he takes with him (weird? Maybe that was why it was deleted haha).

And so, I’ve been thinking about it a lot and as always I ended up thinking about Bleach and IR because of the new chapter and all (which wasn’t released yet back then). And I wondered what would it be like if they were in Peter pan and Wendy’s shoes—but first off, I didn’t think Ichigo would fit the role of not growing up because I don’t know, despite being a teen, he looked matured and kinda scary? Kids would never go with him. He’ll be better as the Grinch of Christmas because kids would probably feel like they’ll be bullied even though he’s a nice guy. And so I realize, oh it’s better if we switch them up and make Rukia Peter Pan because she’d be looking young forever while Ichigo grows old (which was what I was expecting from Bleach but somehow they all seem to be aging at the same time now, with all the marriages and the making babies or whatever) And to parallel the manga I realized that maybe having Ichigo live his life (in the world of the living) and have a family would probably be something that Rukia would be really proud of and would be happy to see (Okay, hold up. Just to be clear, I still don’t like the ending for so many other reasons but if it had to go down with Ichigo making a family WITHOUT Rukia then this better be the damn reason for it and that’s to protect him by making him live a normal and safe life before they reunite again in SS. I rest my case.).

And so I connect all this to Day 11 – What do you dream of? Because, well, since the prompt really is up to interpretation… it can be like a “dream” in life? Or just maybe a dream at night? Anyway, this is what I dreamt of literally. Again, I’ve been thinking about it all the time lately so I had to let it out. And of course, in relation to IR and in this AU setting, they probably dream of being together too (both in life and at night haha) <3

And that’s about it. I just want to leave this long message here so that when the time comes that I feel so much better, I’ll know what I was going through behind this not-so-good-but-a-little-better-than-my-other-works-so-far fanart and that one-shot that I tried my best to write despite my writing skills being very rusty, and know that it will be alright someday and that I’ll probably get through it whatever it was that I’m going through at this moment.

If you’ve reached until the end then wow. Bless your kind soul really and hope you have a great dinner and of course, thank you for lending me your ears or eyes (since you had to read). I may not know you but I really, really appreciate your time 😊

#deathberry #irmonth2021 #what do you dream of #IchiRuki #IchiRuki Forever #ichiruki month #ichiruki fanart #ichiruki fanfic #ichigo kurosaki #Rukia Kuchiki #my heart still aches #give me some love

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vs-redemption · 4 years

Note

Hey! Can i request tamaki,mirio and nejire with a s/o who have a very powerfull quirk?

From Cindy: Thanks for requesting the big three! It was interesting trying to imagine them reacting to a powerful quirk. I had fun thinking of the quirks though. I hope this is what you were looking for anon!

Mirio

Mirio had no idea just how powerful your quirk was until he’d already been dating you for a few months.

You were a support course student at a college outside of Japan, and you had met Mirio when he’d come to your school to do a study abroad program after graduating from UA High School.

You both shared some general studies classes together and Mirio began to rely on you to help him whenever he struggled with homework because you were one of the only students on campus who spoke fluent Japanese.

It was easy for you to fall for a positive and passionate person like Mirio, and he went head over heels for your kindness, smarts, and accent just as quickly.

Your tutoring sessions turned into study dates, which turned into real dates, which ended with you eventually becoming an official item.

Mirio had inquired about your quick once or twice during your time together, but you often brushed off the questions.

“It’s an emitter type quirk that isn’t very useful.”

Your hero course boyfriend never even thought to push the subject any further, but he was very surprised when he found out you had signed up for the school recruitment event that was similar to the Sports Festivals held at UA.

“Don’t they hold this event for hero students to show off and find jobs with pro hero agencies?” Mirio asked you.

“Basically,” you answered with a shrug. “But support course students can use it as a chance to show off their products as well.”

Mirio was worried that it might be a little dangerous, but couldn’t bring himself to discourage you from doing something you wanted to do.

On the day of the recruitment, Mirio makes sure to come support and cheer for you whenever he has time between the events he was participating in.

He was happy to see you doing well in one of the obstacle races until you suddenly came up to a part of the course with thick giant walls blocking the way.

None of your support items seemed to be helpful with the roadblock and it looked like you might not be able to continue the event.

Imagine Mirio’s surprise when you sigh in annoyance before reeling back your fist and punching a giant hole straight through the cement slab and walking past it as if it were just a minor inconvenience.

He’s shocked, of course, but also super excited and proud of you.

“Babe! Why aren’t you in the hero course?! Your quirk is amazing!”

You explain that controlling the sheer force of your power was more trouble than it was worth, and that making support items for heroes had always been more fulfilling for you anyway.

Mirio respects your feelings, but now that he knows how strong you are, he can’t help but ask you to work out with him from then on.

It makes him happy that he can finally do something with you that he excels at since you’d been the one helping him since the beginning.

He will also add your strength to the list of things he brags about when talking about you with other people.

Amajiki

Amajiki already knew the basics of your quirk when he met you since it was on the resume you’d used to apply as a sidekick at his agency.

He had no idea what to expect though at first since your ability to steal other people’s “kinetic energy” was pretty unique.

“Whenever I touch something that’s in motion, I absorb the energy and use it for myself!”

You could literally steal energy from ANYTHING that was moving, be it a small empty can rolling back and forth on the sidewalk or a four thousand ton train racing along its tracks at full speed.

Amajiki learned during your first patrol together that it was even more incredible as it sounded.

“Ah! My bag!” A woman’s scream drew your attention to a man running down the street with a purse he’d just stolen clutched in his arms.

Before Amajiki can even react, you are already running after the man, high fiving people walking in the opposite direction and tapping the hoods of moving cars as you run by to use their energy to boost your own speed.

You catch up with the man in the blink of an eye and tackle him, using his own speed against him to fuel your quirk. You successfully restrain him and wrestle the purse out of his arms.

“You were so fast,” Amajiki says after the incident is resolved. He means it as praise, but he can’t help but feel embarrassed that he hadn’t helped at all. “How did you overpower him though? He was twice your size.”

“I can convert the kinetic energy I collect to do anything I want!” You say happily, “that includes increasing my speed, strength, jumping power, grip and more!”

You start to remind Amajiki of Mirio with the positive energy you give off and the incredible control you master over your quirk.

He is conflicted because he admires you so much, and knows you’re an asset to his team.

On the other hand, he feels like you deserve much more than to just be his sidekick. The poor boy worries that he is holding you back.

He casually brings up the topic of you starting your own agency one day, but is surprised to see how disappointed and sad you look at the very thought.

“Is this your way of politely asking me to leave because you know I have a crush on you?”

You start to apologize for possibly making him uncomfortable and try to explain that you’d tried to keep your feelings in check, but it was hard when he was such a cool hero and amazing friend.

Your words slowly turned him into a blushing, flustered mess.

YOU had a crush on HIM?!

“No, that’s not what I meant!” He begins to stutter about how amazing he thinks you are and how you deserve more recognition, not realizing that you were getting flustered too now.

Somehow, you both make it through the nerves and agree to continue working together at the agency.

Amajiki even finds the courage to ask you on a date.

Even after dating for a while, Amajiki still gets overwhelmed by your quirk sometimes, but you make sure to encourage him and boost his self-esteem whenever possible.

Nejire

Nejire knew about you and your quirk long before you even met her.

Her curiosity about you had been peeked the moment she saw you using your mutant ability to transform into some sort of half human, half jaguar badass warrior.

Nejire’s eyes went wide when your hands and feet grew into big spotted paws with razor sharp claws, giving you the ability to run on all fours at crazy speeds, darting around like a real jungle cat.

When the cameras zoomed in, she got a glimpse of your dangerously long fangs and adorable fluffy ears. The reporter on the tv explained that when your quirk was activated, your jaw pressure was double that of an actual tiger.

Nejire became obsessed. Not only was your quirk super strong, but you also looked super cute when you were using it!

She had so many questions!

The first time she has the chance to see you in person is at the tail end of a pretty scary villain encounter.

She’d been doing her best to hold off a couple of beefed up bad guys who’d been harassing some girls when you’d shot out of nowhere, pouncing on top of the biggest looking one and pinning him to the ground effortlessly.

Her breath had caught for a moment when she saw your glowing yellow cat eyes, but she quickly recovered so she could take care of capturing the second criminal.

Once the incident was resolved, she was quick to bounce over to you and thank you for helping her out.

“You seem totally awesome!” She tells you with a huge smile, “We should definitely be friends! Do you have time to grab a bite after your patrol?”

“Um… of course!” you laugh feeling awestruck to be invited to hang out by one of the famous big three heroes from UA.

Both of you head to the nearest diner, and Nejire spends most of the time interrogating you about yourself and your quirk.

“Does it hurt when the claws and fangs grow out?” She asks. She was so excited she was bouncing in her seat. “Are the jaguar features just physical or do you get any cat like instincts too?”

Her questions could sometimes get pretty personal, but you could tell her intentions were innocent. You didn’t mind sharing information about yourself, and hoped you’d get the chance to learn more about her too.

“Hey we should totally team up again real soon!” She tells you before it’s time to head back home.

“I’d be up for that!” you smile happily at her friendliness. “And maybe we could get dinner after?”

“Oh!” She spins around in delight. “Like a date?”

“Yeah,” you nod, feeling glad she was on the same page. “Like a date.”

You both are basically inseparable from that point onward. Nejire’s playful and bubbly behavior matched your own and you found yourself spending more and more time with her both in and outside of work.

The more she learned about you and your quirk, the more enamored she became. The same was true for you about her.

Gossip magazines were calling you two a power couple even before the relationship was official.

#Mirio Togata x reader #nejire hado x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #togata mirio #Nejire Hado #Tamaki Amajiki #bnha #mha #Cindy's Writing #writing requests

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ronnie-azumane · 3 years

Text

Flower Rings

Hello everyone! I'm here with another Anisylum collab! This is the first time writing for my OG anime husband, so please go easy on me. But yeah! I hope y'all enjoy and check out the other works from the other creators participating!

CW: Abuse/beating, fluffy hurt/comfort, ATTACK ON TITAN MANGA SPOILERS, mentions of trauma, suicide, and death.

Life in the ghetto wasn’t a walk in the park. Sure, life could be worse, (Y/N) could be going hungry at night, slowly turning into skin and bones. (Y/N) could be shivering the night away in a flimsy tent with a single blanket to keep warm.

Although it’s a little hard to be grateful for what you have when it feels like the oppressor is always watching your every move.

It doesn’t take a genius to see the lack of justice in these ghettos provided by the Marleyan regime, however, young (Y/N) didn’t pay attention to her oppressors as much, they’re only a child after all. Why would they even want to be concerned about politics when the neighbors are playing a game of kickball?

Almost like clockwork, every week at precisely 5pm, the children born in the ghetto would gather in a courtyard and play kickball, with the ball being an old ball accidentally thrown over the fence years ago and the bases marked by old linens.

Kids of all ages gathered as usual at the court yard to divide out the teams and begin their game of ball. (Y/N) wasn’t the youngest there, but at seven years old, they were still young and scrawny, so it was no surprise that (Y/N) was one of the last ones picked.

(Y/N) sighed in relief, however, when they saw that Reiner was on their team. Reiner was three years older than (Y/N), and pretty much tied to their hip. Since both their mothers were friends growing up, they always had playdates together, playing with various figures and creating these elaborate plots to go along with them.

“We’re on the same team? Yes!” Reiner celebrates, jumping around excitedly as any ten year old would.

“You’re only celebrating because you’re too chicken to face me,” (Y/N) teased, sticking their tongue out.

A succession of ‘am not’s and ‘am to’s was promptly stopped when one of the older kids shouted that the game was about to start. Team Black would be kicking first while Team White would pitch.

(Y/N)’s favorite part of the game was kicking, so finding out that the Black Team was kicking first was music to their ears. They ran to the line, getting as close to the front as they could. Reiner held back, as he preferred catching the ball and running fast to get someone out.

(Y/N) was finally up to kick. Team Black had an out and kids on second and third base. If they scored, their team would get their first point.

The ball bounced a slight bit as it made its way toward (Y/N). (Y/N) wound back their leg and hit the ball back, aiming in between the second and third base. The ball flew and (Y/N) sprinted to first base.

What (Y/N) failed to realize was that Jameson, the eight year old boy that had a personal goal of making every day miserable for (Y/N), was waiting by first base.

As they ran toward the base, Jameson positioned himself to where his foot would ‘accidently’ get in the way of (Y/N)’s footing. Sure enough, (Y/N) stepped on his foot, causing them to lose their balance and fall to the ground before hitting the base.

“What the hell, (Y/N), you stepped on my foot!” Jameson shouted, landing a kick in (Y/N)’s side. (Y/N) yelped in pain as they curled into themself.

“You put your foot there on purpose,” (Y/N) sniffled as pain-filled tears leaked from their eyes.

“So what if I did? You still should have avoided it,” Jameson landed another kick to their side.

Reiner, who was zoned out looking at a bee buzzing around, snapped back to reality when he heard (Y/N) yelp in pain in the distance. Before he could think, he found himself running over to the two and punching Jameson square in the face.

Before Jameson could retaliate, Reiner picked up (Y/N) from the ground and ran away from the game, carrying them on his back. Deciding it was not worth the effort, Jameson let them run off as he got back to his game, but not before the team captain of the day switched him to outfield as punishment.

With (Y/N) on his back, Reiner ran to their self proclaimed happy place, if you could call anywhere in the ghetto happy. Near the entrance gate, there was a patch of grass where wildflowers grow, giving them a taste of the natural world that was unknown to them within the walls of the ghetto. He set them down and plopped next to their shuttering frame.

“How are you feeling, (Y/N), are you hurt? Do we need to go to the doctor?” Reiner asked.

“I’m hurt, but I don’t want to go to the doctor.”

“Are you still afraid that the doctor is going to give you a shot?” Reiner teased.

“Shut up! Needles are scary!” (Y/N) whined, causing Reiner to giggle.

Soon enough, the pain in (Y/N)’s side began to fade, and they focused themselves on making a flower crown while Reiner watched the Marleyan soldiers outside the gate train.

“My mama wants me to be a warrior, but I’m not too sure that's what I want to do,” Reiner sighed, lying all the way back on his back.

“How come? Isn’t becoming a warrior one of the best things an Eldian can do for Marley?” (Y/N) asked.

“Yeah, but that would mean I would have to work really hard, while buttheads like Jameson would get to play and make fun of you. It wouldn’t be fair!”

“Why are boys like Jameson so mean anyway? My mommy told me that it just meant that he liked me, but why would someone be mean to someone they liked?” (Y/N) asked.

“Is that a thing?” Reiner asks.

“That’s what mommy says,” (Y/N) finished their flower crown and unceremoniously flopped it onto Reiner’s head, earning a giggle from him. “I wouldn’t want to marry a guy like Jameson, I would want to marry a guy like you, Reiner, who’s nice to me.”

“Then how about we make a promise?” Reiner asked.

“A promise?”

“Yeah, like, we promise to marry each other now, and once we get big we actually do it?” Reiner’s cheeks were now bright red.

“Yeah! I like that! I promise to marry you, Reiner,” (Y/N) extended a pinky out.

Reiner crudely plucked a flower from the ground and tied the stem around (Y/N)’s finger. Reiner’s fingers were chubby and unskilled, so the flower ring didn’t turn out as pretty as the crown, yet (Y/N) still stared at it.

“And I promise to marry you, (Y/N).”

XXX

Reiner ended up joining the Warriors a few years later, to the dismay of (Y/N). The flower ring had since shriveled up beyond repair, but (Y/N) refused to let go of their promise, thinking that if the flower stayed in their possession, it would guarantee Reiner’s safe return home.

However, the mission that was estimated to take the four warriors a year or two to complete turned into a major failure with rumors stating that only one of them was making it home. However, (Y/N) didn’t have the time to mourn her lost friend, Marley was still causing conflict in both the battle front and the home front.

It wouldn’t be until after the Rumbling ended when (Y/N) would meet up with Reiner again. He was in the area negotiating peace with some other nations, and decided a late lunch and catch-up session with his childhood friend was in order.

“So, how was going through puberty like on an island without modern medicine?” (Y/N) asked shamelessly.

“What happened to hello?” Reiner asked, causing (Y/N) to erupt in laughter.

“I’m just sad I didn’t get to witness voice-crack Reiner,” (Y/N) wiped a tear from their eye, causing Reiner to groan.

They then began to catch up, retelling all their experiences from the past thirteen years. Reiner went into detail as to what it was like training with the man who almost killed all of humanity, his trauma, and even his suicide attempt while (Y/N) retold moments of agony in the ghetto, their dad getting drafted for one of the countless wars, and even confessed that they and Jameson dated at one point.

“You! And him!” Reiner stuttered.

“Apparently my mom was right, Jameson pretended he hated me because he couldn’t decipher his own feelings. Dumped his ass a while ago though, he started spending all his money on alcohol.”

“So I’m assuming you’re not seeing anyone?” Reiner asked.

“Not at the moment, why do you ask?”

“Well, (Y/N), I may have had ulterior motives to this lunch,” Reiner pulled out a small box from his pocket and set it on the table, inviting (Y/N) to open it up. Inside was a ring, with the centerpiece shaped as the flower that he tied onto (Y/N)’s finger all those years ago.

“What is this?” (Y/N) stuttered.

“You probably don’t remember, but one day, I gave you a flower ring with a promise. I’m sure it’s long gone by now.”

“Yeah, lost it in the rumbling. Are you really proposing to me right now?”

“No no no! This is just a reminder of that promise we made that afternoon. That promise helped me push through all the hardships I faced,” Reiner flailed his arms a bit, getting slightly flustered.

“So, a promise ring?”

“I promised I’d marry you, didn’t I?” Reiner asked as he pulled out his pinky. Smiling, (Y/N) slipped on the ring and interlocked their pinky with his.

“You did, Reiner, you did.”

#attack on titan #aot #aot spoilers #reiner x y/n #reiner braun #reiner x reader #reader insert #attack on titan x reader #h/c #server collab #I tried my best but classes start tomorrow and I'm lowkey nervous

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mae-gi-writes · 4 years

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From Now On | Kevin (The Boyz)

You break down with Kevin when a loved one passes away.

Genre: angst, fluff, sad, mention of death, Kevin moon is an angel

A/N: for a very special soul. <3 I love you. Stay strong.

----

Numb. Empty. Void.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“My sympathies.”

“She was an amazing woman.”

A hand on your shoulder. You don’t bother looking up, “I can’t imagine how hard it must be.”

No, you think to yourself. You can’t. Because right now, I am walking through hell.

There is an abundance of hushed murmurs that fill the room where your mother lays in her casket, looking so ethereally beautiful and serene with her eyes closed and a tinted pink flush scattered over her cheeks. But that’s all a lie, for you know exactly without looking too closely that her chest isn’t rising and falling as its supposed to be.

“Y/N,” another hand on your shoulder, though this time you recognize the sadness etched in your older brother’s tone. Turning to see Hyunjae’s composed features, what gives him away is the puffiness of his eyes, the scarlet tint to his nose.

Almost instinctively, your hand reaches out to grasp his arm. A reminder that you are here, with him. Next to him.

“I can’t find the sandwiches,” he croaks out in the shell of your ear, quiet enough so that no one can hear, “could you help me find them? I think the guests--”

At this point you can already feel his voice choke up and trip over itself. You squeeze his arm in a gentle manner, “I got it,” you send him what hopes is a sweet smile, though it can hardly pull up your cheeks, before slipping away intot the kitchen.

It’s impossible to navigate through the swarm of bodies currently littering the corridors. You maneuver yourself to the best of your ability but soon get yourself trapped between a few older women who claim to be your mother’s old classmates, which does not help the tide of pain wrenching through your chest and practically snapping your heartstrings in two every single time the reminder echoes through your mind.

“She was such a dear! So talented! You look just like her you know,” one of the ladies say with overzealous flair and with tears dotting her eyes. It makes you feel sick, though you manage to plaster a shaky smile.

“It’s sad that I didn’t even get to say goodbye to her,” another sniffled into her tissue.

“It must be ten times worse for you, Y/N,” they throw you a bunch of watery-eyed gazes and it takes all of your self-control not to scream in their faces to leave you the fuck alone.

You take a step away, “Sorry, I’m just really busy. I’ll talk to you guys later--”

“But wait Y/N, we want to know more,” one of them cry out.

The other tugs onto your arm, “we can’t believe it happened. And she was so young too.”

Your brain is screaming at you to run away. To hide. Anything to stop the slow pain spreading through your limbs and causing you to freeze up, your heart clenching and your lungs squeezing so hard through your chest. It’s hard to breathe. Like drowning underwater. Ears blocked and through raw.

You don’t realize that you’ve stumbled back a few steps their arms pull you forward. The women keep on talking over you in hurried sopranos, their voices bouncing around in your skull and causing your head to pound.

It’s too hard. It’s too much. The memory of your mother’s face surges up through you. The way she died, unfairly, too young. Tears gather before you know it and you can’t breathe and can’t breathe can’t breathe --

“Sorry, I’ll have to steal Y/N for a bit.”

A hand clamps down on your shoulder, pulls you away. The voices fall away and you take this moment to focus yourself on the warmth of the hand gently holding on to you as its owner steers you away until you are clearly out in the terrace.

It is only then that you manage to let out a shaky exhale. Your headache clears, just a little bit.

And it is only when he speaks that your eyes slide up to the said voice in question.

Kevin gazes down at you wordlessly, maroon orbs soft in the dim afternoon light.

“Hey, you okay?”

Gratefulness rushes to your heart, just as your eyes fill with unexpected tears.

You burst into sobs.

It takes only a second for Kevin’s arms to wrap around your shoulders before he tugs you over to his chest, and as you bawl your eyes out at the unfairness of the world that you can’t even say goodbye to that one person who’s been present from the moment you were born, your hands find purchase onto his shirt if only in a pathetic attempt to stop yourself from getting overwhelmed by the amount of emotion that rips through your throat in the form of hoarse whimpers.

“Shh,” Kevin mumbles a bunch of sweet nothings in your ear and though you loathe the fake sympathy that comes with a crowd that barely knows you and much less what you are currently going through, you can’t find the energy to push your boyfriend away.

After all, you do trust him more than yourself. For once, you allow your walls to come down.

You cry and cry and cry.

You cry, until there seems to be nothing left of your tears, until your tear ducts have dried out and until your entire body seems to be shaking with barely restrained tiredness.

And through it all, Kevin holds on to you. He holds on like he’s never planning to let go, and your hands clench a little tighter, you hold him a little closer.

A while later, after almost all guests have vacated your house and after you’ve managed to nod at Hyunjae when asked whether you’re doing okay, you manage to retreat to your room with Kevin in tow, his hand holding onto yours and providing you with a warmth that brings you comfort.

He sits beside you on your bed as you both watch the sun set in the distance, pinkish hues dominating the sky and painting it in various shades of golden orange and red.

It’s beautiful and yet saddening at the same time to see the first day go by without your mother’s gentle voice floating from the kitchen. The emptiness lingers in the air, a void that mimics the hole in your heart.

I miss you.

More tears slowly well up at the corner of your eyes and you quickly wipe them away adamantly. You’ve cried enough these past few hours. Enough is enough.

I’m sorry I never told you how much I loved you.

Kevin’s thumb rubs comforting circles over the back of your knuckles. In the silence, you allow yourself to bask in his presence.

That is really all you need for now. Nothing more. Nothing else.

Just time. Time to heal. Time to suffer. Time to just exist until the pain ebbs away.

I’m sorry I took you for granted.

“Y/N,” Kevin’s soft murmur reaches your ears, “you want to talk about it?”

You shake your head before biting your lip so hard you taste blood.

“Okay,” he mumbles. That’s when he beckons you into his arms, an embrace that you gladly accept as you crawl into his lap and curl up -- head pressed against the crook of his neck and hands held close to your chest -- as his head comes to a rest atop yours, but not before pressing a gentle peck to your forehead.

“You know,” his words are muffled against your temple, lips moving against your skin with lingering warmth, “you don’t have to hold it in with me right? I don’t--I care about you. I don’t want you thinking that I can’t handle it. Because that’s what I’m here for.”

God. This man. A sob almost crawls out of your throat. So you nod, grip his shirt a little tighter. His scent washes over you, a mixture of pine and a dash of coffee mixed in with a boyish smell that comes from his deodorant.

It makes you feel at home. At ease. At least with Kevin, there’s no playing pretend.

You’re unsure whether you fell asleep in his embrace, but before you know it your eyes are drowsily fluttering open to meet Kevin’s back. You go to call out his name, only for the smell of fried food hitting your nostrils and turning your head to catch sight of the plate of untouched food by your nightstand, your heart can’t help but melt a little at his thoughtfulness.

Noticing your movement, the said young man turns before smiling down at you softly, “hey,” he murmurs gently, practically throwing his phone on the other side of the bed and crawling over to where you lie, “you hungry? I brought food. Or rather, Hyunjae did.”

You know you should eat. God knows when was the last time you’d eaten. But the thought causes your stomach to churn slightly and you shake your head.

“But Hyunjae brought your favourite: meat buns,” Kevin pouts ever so slightly, and pairing that with the slight rumble of your stomach makes you cave in.

So you nod and he grins back at you, quickly scrambling to your bedside so that he can feed you before you can even protest. You find you don’t have the energy to, only watching him peel off the wrapper and break it into small, bite-sized pieces.

“Ah,” he holds one out to you and you accept it begrudgingly. You’ve never been too fond of being taken care of. But at this precise moment, you can’t find it in yourself to argue, especially since Kevin has been nothing but your pillar of support throughout the last few hours. How you would’ve managed without him, you don’t even know yourself.

As he feeds you the rest of the bun, he talks aimlessly about the food vlog on youtube that he’s just binge-watched and how he wishes to visit New York someday to be able to try out all these fancy street foods that keep haunting his dreams. Somewhere along the line, you realize that it’s a little easier to swallow, a little easier to smile up at your doting boyfriend talking animatedly while swinging his arms around. He always does that whenever he gets overexcited.

Right now, he’s moved on to talking about safe driving on roads implemented by AI technology, “seriously though, it’s kind of scary how technology can do everything these days. At this point we’re not going to have a zombie apocalypse but rather a robot apocalypse. Can you imagine?”

“Then they’d be easier to kill, wouldn’t they?” you mumble out, and while it is soft and barely coherent, Kevin’s ears perk up at your participation. That’s probably the first word that falls from your mouth ever since you woke up.

“I guess so, unless they’re already programmed with a hundred of ninja combat moves or something,” he shrugs, moves a little closer to wipe off a few bits of flour stuck to the corner of your lips, “maybe they can even google search it and analyze movements within seconds,” he shudders at the thought, “ooh, scary.”

“Kevin?”

“Hm?” his eyes peer into yours, coffee-coloured orbs swirling with naked affection, hand pushing away a stray strand from your face.

When you speak next, you feel a sob catching in the back of your throat, “thank you,” you swallow hard, “for everything.”

It happens all too fast. The way Kevin’s arms reach out to swallow you up once more in a bone-crushing hug that leaves you breathless, his lips permanently pressed to your forehead before he nuzzles his nose into your cheek.

“You don’t have to say thank you,” he murmurs in-between the smallest of pecks he litters across your cheekbone, “that’s what I’m here for.”

The familiar sting of tears cause your eyes to grow glossy, but this time it’s almost as if your own heart feels a little lighter, a little less burdened. Sleeping had done you some good, and eating had appeased the swelling ache in your stomach.

But Kevin. Kevin had definitely patched up a band-aid over your heart.

"I know it’s going to be hard, these few months to come,” Kevin continues in a gentle murmur, “but from now on, if you feel like you cant handle it, you have me.”

Your murmur out a soft agreement, but that doesn’t seem to cut it, for Kevin’s fingers clasp your jaw to tilt it upwards. Your eyes slide to his, intense and persistent.

“Y/N, I got you. Okay?”

“Yeah,” you mumble.

He keeps on watching you for a few more silent seconds. Satisfied then, he pulls you back against him, tucking your face into the crook of his neck once more and placing a chaste kiss right upon your left eyelid, then right eyelid. Then down to peck your lips as your breath stutters out shakily.

“I’ll be there.”

It’s a promise. A promise for better days. And hugging him a little tighter, you can’t help but believe in the hope laced through Kevin’s words.

-----

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kingreywrites · 4 years

Text

Sorrow

Fandom: Tangled

Word Count: 1652

Lance Strongbow Appreciation Week Day One: Arnwaldo Schnitz

Summary: Arnie is crying, and he doesn't feel like he will ever be able to stop. The orphanage is new, and scary, and lonely, and he... He only wants his mom to come back.

Note: fair warning this is sad fghshjdf I’m not sure if I’ll be able to participate much but I love that man a lot so I’ll try!! Thank you Bex for organising this!!

Read on ao3

@tangledbea

Arnie's mom was always telling him he was brave. Whenever he came to wake her up because he was afraid of the dark, or thought he saw a spider, she would always smile softly, and boop his nose, and repeat that he was the bravest little boy she knew, because each time he had had the strength to face these fears just long enough to go ask for help. Arnie hadn't been sure about why that made him brave, but he hadn't really questioned it either.

As he was sobbing, curled up on a bed that wasn't his own, he wished he had asked her to explain it. He wished she could tell him again how brave he was, even if it was false, because he certainly didn't feel courageous at all when she wasn't here.

He missed his mom. They- They told him he wouldn't see her again. They told him she was-

A louder sob broke from his chest, and he didn't feel like he would ever be okay again. His lungs were burning, and his eyes too, and his mom- his mom- he wanted her back. He didn't want to be there without her, where it was dark, and- and smelly, and full of other kids that he didn't know, and it probably had spiders too, and- and-

"Are you okay?" someone whispered loudly from behind him. Startled, Arnie breathed in with a gasp, before trying to curl up even more. He didn't want to talk.

He heard rustling sheets, and quiet steps in his direction, and if he could breathe right, Arnie would have told whoever that was that he didn't want anyone here. He had never slept in the same room as so many kids, and he didn't want to be there, he wanted to go back home, with mom, and she- she would know what to do, she always did, she couldn’t-

"Hey," the voice whispered again - though, given the volume, it could hardly be called a whisper. "You should breathe I think."

"Sh- Sh- Shut up," Arnie stuttered painfully, tears rolling down his cheeks. Mom wouldn't be happy with him for being mean, but he wanted to be left alone.

The voice listened to him. For a minute, approximately, but he didn't hear any steps going away from him on the creaking floorboards, so he wasn't exactly surprised to hear it talk again.

"I would call an adult, but they don't like being woken up during the night," it said - he said, because Arnie was pretty sure it was another boy like him. "Trust me, it's better when they don't come."

Arnie didn't answer. He didn't want to. He also didn't want any adult anyway, because he had met the matrons today, and he already hated them. They looked mean, they didn't smile, they were... They were not mom. Not even close.

"You're the new kid right?" the other boy asked, apparently unable to bear being silent for more than thirty seconds. "Most new kids are really sad, so- I mean- yeah," he concluded awkwardly. "Why are you sad?"

"I- I-" Arnie's teeth were chattering. Sometimes, when he got really scared, he would start stuttering, but it had never been as bad as it was right now. "I m- miss my- my- my mom."

"Oh." A beat, and then a tiny hand touched his shoulder from behind, patting it clumsily in an obvious attempt at being comforting. "I'm sorry. Do you... Do you want me to go?"

Arnie sniffled, tears still flowing on his cheeks. He... He didn't know. He didn't know anything right now, except that he wanted his mom, and she wasn't here. She wouldn't- she wouldn't- He was breathing hard again when he answers with a quiet "no", and he wondered if he was heard at all, if the boy would leave him too just because he had been mean and was too noisy and scared and-

"Okay, I won't go." Arnie felt the bed dip a little, as if a new weight was on it. "I'll stay here, alright?"

Arnwaldo nodded. He didn't want to be alone anymore. He knew there were a lot of other kids in this very room, all trying to sleep, but- but he felt very lonely anyway on his tiny and unfamiliar bed. At least, until the other boy came to check on him. The next minutes were spent crying more, because mom still wasn't here, but now there was a hand who kindly rested on his arm, and it... He felt better, a little bit. Not much.

"I'm... Arnwaldo- Arnie," he whispered hoarsely, thinking about the way mom always told him he had to make proper introductions when he met new people.

"I'm Eugene," the voice - Eugene whispered back, still a little too loud. "Nice to meet you Arnie," he enunciated formally, as if he had learnt the greeting by heart.

Arnie breathed in deeply, and finally turned over towards Eugene. Despite the relative darkness, he could clearly see Eugene's messy and fluffy brown hair as he peered down at him curiously.

"Do you feel better?"

"No," Arnie answered harshly. He was exhausted. He could feel his tears slowing down, not because he wanted them to, but because he didn't have the energy to keep them going but- but he would never be fine again. Never. "My- my mom-"

Eugene grimaced, his eyes full of pity, before he evaded his gaze and looked down on his lap. "I'm sorry your mom left."

It sounded wrong, somehow. It took a few minutes for Arnie's tired brain to get it, to understand that Eugene didn't know about- he thought mom left him because she wanted to. Eugene thought he was crying because he had been abandoned by a mean mother, and it was like the energy Arnie thought he didn't have anymore came rushing back with a vengeance, burning brightly in his veins. He straightened up quickly, startling Eugene, fresh tears of frustration already falling from his eyes.

"She's not- She's not- She's dead," he gasped, and he felt like his heart was crumbling all over again, like he was back in the front of his home being unable to enter, with terrifying adults who didn't want to tell him where his mom was.

He had known she was sick. He had known working was hard for her, and he did his best to make her feel better - he tried to clean their home when she wasn't there, and he made cold sandwiches for them both so she didn't have to cook, and he didn't even bother her at night anymore, because he knew she needed sleep more than he might need a hug. He thought... He thought it would be enough. That she would get better, that they could start living normally again, just the two of them, like it has always been. His dad had died before he was born. Mom... mom was his only family. She couldn't die. She just couldn't, because she was too strong, too brave, too kind, and kind people couldn't die, could they? They didn't deserve it.

Mom had told him to go into town this morning. To buy milk, like a big boy. He had been so proud that she trusted him like this.

When he came back, his entire life had changed.

And now he was crying, and Eugene thought that his mom had been mean, but she wasn't and- and he was alone. Arnwaldo Shnitz was alone, and no one in the world cared about him, because the only person who did was dead. Mom was dead. There was a weight pressing on his lungs painfully, and it was worse than everything he had ever experienced - worse than the paralysing fear he felt when he saw a spider, worse than the worry for his mom that had haunted him for months… He felt empty. And he didn't understand, he couldn't, and it hurt-

Arms enveloped him from the side, and he could feel Eugene trying to hug him awkwardly. His hair tickled.

"I'm sorry," he sniffled as Arnie kept shaking. "I didn’t- I'm sorry for your mom. She… She had to love you a lot."

Arnwaldo blubbered affirmatively, crying even harder. Mom had loved him a lot. She had loved everyone a lot, and he- he wanted her back. He wanted to cry and scream and be the most horrible child there was if that meant he could see her again, but he knew- he knew it wouldn't work. Arnie shifted, and hugged Eugene back fully, because he didn't want to be alone, and Eugene was nice, and… His hug wasn't as warm and as comfortable as mom's, but he was trying.

"If you wanna," Eugene said after a while, "I can tell you a story. I know looots of them, and they always make me feel better."

He was still sniffling. Arnie wondered why it sounded like was crying too, but he was too exhausted to say anything. Mom told him stories too. Each night, before sleeping, she tucked him into bed and narrated what she swore to be real stories about her adventures from when she was young - but Arnie wasn't a baby, he knew they had been fake. They would always playfully argue about it, because he just knew mom couldn't have been a pirate, and-

This was the first night of his life mom wouldn't be here for him at bedtime. He gripped Eugene's shoulders tighter, eyes burning again, and nodded silently.

Eugene was still whispering too loudly when he launched himself into his story. It was the tale of a certain Flynnigan Rider, who was about to meet the guy who would become his best friend and partner, Lance Archer. The story was light-hearted, and Eugene seemed to know it by heart. Soon enough, his voice lulled Arnie into an exhausted sleep.

#tangled #Lance Strongbow #Eugene Fitzherbert #tangled the series #Lance Strongbow Appreciation Week

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 4 years

Note

Hii!! I saw that your requests are open again so I hope u don't mind cosidering mine!! Maybe some Hcs of the THH bois being sad and their s/o comforts them and when they think they're asleep, they sing them a lullaby? the idea makes me very soft 👉👈🥺

Oop this idea makes me v soft, too ;w;

..........

Taka

You knew how emotional Taka tends to get, even over simple things like you reminding him that you appreciated him in your life.

Though one day, you find him laying on the bed, crying into a pillow.

The fact he neglected to greet you when you came home was especially concerning, since he always did that.

So you lay down beside him and hug him closely, asking what’s wrong.

He just buries his head into your chest and sobs about a quiz he failed, believing his life was ruined because of it.

Anyone else would’ve probably laughed at him for bawling his eyes out over something that insignificant.

But you never do.

You understand he takes a lot of pride in success...and that he could be harsh on himself for little mistakes.

Instead you hold him tighter and reassure him that one bad grade doesn’t mean his future is in shambles.

Eventually he calms down, thanking you for those words he often needed to hear.

Before seemingly passing out from the exhaustion of crying.

You pet his black hair for a bit, and then quietly sing a short lullaby.

In response, his arms hug you tighter.

Mondo

Usually, he’s scary when he’s upset.

But around you, however, he looks like a kicked puppy.

This especially becomes true when he comes home after an argument with his gang.

He takes a shower and comes back out to greet you, his infamous pompadour now shoulder-length brown hair.

Now he looks like a wet kicked puppy.

If you ask him what’s wrong, he’ll just say it was another stupid fight with his gang, who still doubt his capabilities as a leader.

You knew he was trying his best to keep them in one piece--fulfilling his late brother’s dying wish.

So you understood he could take those insults to heart.

He doesn’t wanna go into much detail, knowing he’ll just get angrier (and probably break the coffee table for the third time this week).

You just pat your lap, inviting him to lay his head down there for a while.

He obliges and just closes his eyes as you run your fingers through his hair.

It soothes him to sleep real fast.

And you hum a small song to help ease his mind and forget his frustrations.

Leon

It’s quite easy to tell when he’s sad, even if he doesn’t say anything directly to you.

Oftentimes, it’s when you enter the bedroom or living room and see him curled up with a pillow, eyes moist and red.

The moment he sees you, though, the pillow’s on the ground and he opens his arms up.

It’s like he’s saying “hold me right now or I will die”.

So you oblige and let him cuddle with you like a teddy bear, already feeling better now that you’re here.

He’ll talk about what’s bothering him if you ask.

Usually it’s either growing pressures of baseball practice or his own insecurities eating away at him.

Though sometimes he just says he wants to sleep the day away.

You’re fine with that, and you help him relax by singing a bit of a lullaby.

All he can pay attention to is your calming voice as he dozes off.

After the nap, he feels a lot better.

Hifumi

It’s typical for him to come crying to you about being bullied again.

Though when he asks if you truly loved him...that becomes a shock to you.

Of course you did! What idiot would try to tell him you didn’t?

You swear this is the last time anyone would mess with your big and lovable fanfic writer.

Usually the perfect solution is to sit down on the couch with his head in your lap, while you brush away his tears and list all of the things you loved about him.

No really. You have an actual list you keep in case someone has the nerve to ask you what you see in him.

He might get choked up all over again as he realizes he shouldn’t listen to those idiots.

At some point, he does fall asleep, and you catch yourself humming the tune of some anime song you recently heard.

Funny enough--he sometimes mumbles the lyrics in his sleep.

Yasuhiro

You find him sitting alone in his room, looking sad as he stares down at a crystal ball in his hands.

At first you scared him when you rush over to ask him what’s wrong (fortunately you save him another million yen by catching the ball before it hit the floor).

But once he calms down, he just says he feels like a “useless idiot” during trials sometimes.

He wonders why Monokuma insists everyone participates if he can’t contribute anything good.

What breaks your heart most is when he asks if you think he’s an idiot.

You just take his hands and reassure him he’s far from that.

You remind him that he did bring up some important topics that helped piece the crimes together.

So he’s not useless at all.

He feels much better after those reassurances, though also tired since he was doing a lot of thinking.

So you two just cuddle, and when you think he’s fully out, you quietly sing a random song.

Though he mumbles a “wow you sing rly good” before dozing off.

Makoto

Sometimes the guilt of class trials weighs heavily on him.

Especially when he leaves knowing he basically sent someone to their death.

Even though he knows he has to if everyone else wants to survive.

But that doesn’t stop the nightmares he has of the victims and blackeneds taunting him, blaming him for their deaths instead of Monokuma.

Fortunately, you sleep with him on those nights.

And when he wakes up suddenly, you’re quick to bring him into your arms.

Though if you’re a heavy sleeper, expect to be shaken awake by a teary-eyed Makoto who was scared you died.

When you’re awake, you comfort him by resting your chin on top of his head, while he listens to your heartbeat.

A reminder that you’re still alive.

And you end up singing a short lullaby once he falls back to sleep, ensuring he stayed asleep knowing you were safe.

Chihiro

Knowing Chihiro, it was easy for him to get upset over many things.

But all day long, he’s kept things bottled up, afraid you’d see him as “less manly”.

Though it all backfires horribly when he’s working on a program that keeps having pop-up errors and other glitches.

It’s just one after another and he can’t fix them all.

He feels like he’s faltering in his talent--the one thing he was confident in.

How could he be an “Ultimate Programmer” if he couldn’t fix simple errors?

Sometime later, you find him crying at his desk. You can easily tell your poor bf is overwhelmed again.

So you carry him away from his computer and to the bed, where you both cuddle.

He ends up breaking down into tears again, spilling his heart out to you--the guilt of ignoring you, the frustrations with the program, everything.

And you hold him and listen, letting him talk before you give him your own reassurances/advice.

Eventually, he passes out from exhaustion, and you take the opportunity to sing something to help him calm down more.

Byakuya

There’s not much of a sensitive side to him. He learned to toughed up in the face of many hardships--all to rightfully earn his position in the family.

But not even the heir himself was immune to the stress, suffering, and doubt--especially when he was all alone.

And when you saw that mask crack for the first time..it was a shock.

You came home earlier than expected one day, and you saw the prodigy pacing around the living room, trying to dry both his glasses and eyes while taking shaky breaths.

“You’re better than this...stronger than this..y-you’re..gonna be head of your family...”

The crack in his voice prompts you to intervene.

Of course, he tries playing it off as nothing, though you take him to the couch anyway and hold his hands.

You don’t say or do anything; you just let him calm down by himself, with your presence being more than enough.

Once he does, you convince him to rest for a bit. He just scoffs and says he already planned to.

You hum a song when he finally dozes off.

Your voice is actually soothing to listen to, though he’s not gonna outright say it.

But you know it from his small smile.

Kiyondo

Despite his brash attitude and tendency to mimic Mondo..you knew that deep down, your beloved Taka was in there--still heartbroken and grieving.

It became more apparent when you found him crying in the bathhouse (around the same time he was when he first went there with Mondo).

He shut himself into the sauna, but with luck you managed to convince him to leave and go to your dorm.

At first he aggressively cuddles with you, though as you brush away the hot tears that streaked down his face, his voice becomes less rough and more...soft.

Like his old self.

He admits he’s scared you’ll be taken away from him, too.

But you just hold him, promising him you will be okay...and you’ll help him through this, no matter what it takes.

It’s hard convincing him to sleep, but when he finally does, you just stay awake for a bit longer, petting his hair and singing a short lullaby.

By the morning, he’s back to normal--still gaunt and depressed.

Yet he seems more hopeful, as he remembers you’re still with him.

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demaury · 4 years

Text

open your heart (and let me know you want me here)

9k / friends to lovers / ao3 link

Here is the thing. When he started making that list, he was never planning on his best friend checking pretty much all the boxes right off the bat.

or; a childhood friends to lovers au

1- Someone who makes me feel something. Butterflies and fireworks and all that shit.

He’s fifteen when it happens, and as most things it doesn’t look like much of a big deal at first. It’s a Wednesday afternoon, and although it should be a regular one like so many others, there’s something unique in the fact that he’s sitting on the navy-blue carpeted floor of his bedroom, trying to figure out a math problem, while Eliott is humming to himself and scrolling down his phone on his bed. The setting isn’t what makes it all new, and much less Eliott’s presence — he’s actually one of the very few constants of his life, ever since the Demaurys moved across the street about a million years ago.

What makes it all new, scary, a bit foreign, is that it’s the first time they hang out, since he told Eliott he liked boys. Which- Okay, coming out to Eliott was really not the problem, really, it never was. He wasn’t… He wasn’t scared that Eliott would take it the wrong way, you know, he wasn’t scared that all of a sudden Eliott would start looking back at him with disgust, that’s not what it was about. He just… He just didn’t know how to word it out. When would be the right time, and if there would ever be one — but turns out there had been one. About a week ago, he and Eliott had been texting late at night, and when the conversation had drifted onto Lucille, more specifically Eliott’s lifelong crush on her — it’s not quite the truth, but two years feel a lot like two lifetimes when you think about it —, Eliott had jokingly suggested that Lucas should get himself someone too so they could go on double dates, once she finally agrees to acknowledge him.

(He doesn’t know why it’s taking her so long, and if he’s being honest, he’s a bit prejudiced against her because of this exact reason.)

Naturally, because old habits die hard, his first instinct had been to deflect. I’m not 45 yet, double dates sound boring as fuck, he almost wrote back, but at the last second he had erased all the words and went for Pretty sure I wouldn’t need you to make a fool of myself in front of my very hypothetical boyfriend instead. There had been a few agonizing minutes spent staring at the ceiling after that, phone turned screen down onto his mattress, while he nervously chewed onto his bottom lip with his stomach in knots; in the meantime, Eliott had flooded their conversation with offended texts, because ‘oh, so you just think you can keep me away from him??? That’s sweet’, and just like that, Lucas had felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Eliott asks excitedly, jumping in a sitting position so fast it makes the bedsprings creaks loudly, and Lucas hums in response, still frowning at his math problem without bothering to look back. He loves Eliott, he really does, but that boy has about a million things crossing his mind at all times of the day (and night), so he’s long given up on the idea of giving him his undivided attention every single time something like this happens. “What would you want him to look like?”

Lucas’ hands hover over his equation result for a moment as he blankly stares at his page in confusion, but then he throws a look above his shoulder, and he finds Eliott expectantly looking at him. “What? Who?”

“Your hypothetical boyfriend,” Eliott supplies, his smile widening when Lucas huffs and shakes his head.

“Don’t you think I have better things to think about right now?”, he groans, his attention drifting back onto his homework. He feels like he’s been twisting his brain over this for hours, and it’s not like he can possibly ask Eliott anything on the matter, because he may be two years older, when it comes to math he’s about as useless as a glass hammer.

“Better than thinking about the man of your dreams?”, Eliott gasps, and Lucas is about to tell him that this is all becoming extra cheesy for something that has no actual basis whatsoever when he adds: “You can’t find him if you don’t have an idea of what you’re looking for.”

“Because he’s going to suddenly show up, out of nowhere, just because I started picturing… I don’t know, some abs and a vaguely undefined hair color?”, Lucas snorts. He doesn’t make a habit of asking Eliott to be serious, because well, it’s Eliott, he’s got his head in the clouds a fair share of the time, but, like, come on.

But instead of picking his phone back up and moving onto another topic, one that doesn’t require Lucas’ participation at the very least, Eliott lets out an appreciative noise. “So you are picturing something, good start. Abs and… what’s the hair color again?”

Naturally, Lucas ends up smacking Eliott with his textbook — or at least trying to, because despite Eliott professing a lifelong hatred of sports of most, if not all kinds, he’s surprisingly quick and agile like a giant cat —, and, eventually, his idiot best friend agrees to leave it at that. Which would have been terrific, really, if his brain had agreed to do the same.

But later, much later, when it’s already dark outside and Eliott has been gone for hours, he finds himself thinking about it — that stupid, stupid idea. He can’t help but wonder, what if he’s right? What if he never finds anyone because he just doesn’t know what he’s looking for? Eliott has been crushing on Lucille for two years, but Lucas can’t even remember ever crushing on anyone. There’s never been anyone who made his stomach flutter, who made his mind go blank, who made his thoughts swirl around. There’s never been anyone who made his knees go weak, or turned his stomach to mush.

And maybe, as he keeps thinking about all the feelings everyone always talks about that he never got to experience, maybe that’s when he starts making it — maybe a couple of yearning thoughts are already the beginning of a list.

9- Someone who gives a shit

“How do they fit?” Eliott shouts from behind the bathroom door, and before Lucas has the time to reply he immediately adds, speech rate quickening like the words are tumbling down from his lips: “Because I’m pretty sure I can find something else.”

Lucas throws a glance at his sad reflection in the mirror, catching sight of the tee-shirt falling down mid-thighs and the shorts reaching below his knees; clearly not his best look, he thinks halfheartedly, flattening a couple of strands sticking up at weird angles at the back of his head. It’s only because he doesn’t want his best friend to take the door down that he ends up unlocking the door and stepping out of the bathroom.

“It’s fine, that will do,” Lucas mumbles, because honestly, he’s already crashing at the Demaurys’, it’s not like he can afford to be picky at the moment.

Eliott is standing in the doorway of his bedroom, and he gives him a sympathetic look — warm and gentle, honey-like in sweetness if not in color. “Good,” he nods, a nice smile stretching out on his lips as he slips into his bedroom.

Lucas follows him, shutting the door behind himself. Eliott vaguely smooths his comforter before climbing onto his bed. “What do you want to watch?”

Lucas twists his mouth a little, and for a moment he feels a bit lost without quite being able to tell why. He’s standing in this room he knows by heart, but still, it feels weird and alien. He uncomfortably rubs an invisible spot on his arm as he tries to process what’s different about it all. They’ve done that hundreds of times, he’s spent some of the best afternoons of his childhood and teenage years in Eliott’s house, in Eliott’s bedroom even, but…

But he’s never done that.

He’s never slammed the door after one too many fights and straight-up imposed himself at the Demaurys’, and judging by Eliott’s demeanor ever since he showed up, soaked wet from the rain outside, he knows he feels it too — it’s weird. It’s different. It’s not the usual excitement floating in the air.

“I don’t really feel like watching anything right now,” he confesses, fiddling with the hem of Eliott’s way-too-long tee-shirt. He’s just tired, he’s heard so much yelling today it’s like his ears are ringing.

“Oh, yeah, no, it’s fine,” Eliott says quickly. He pats the spot next to him until Lucas caves and joins him. “I just thought you might… I don’t know, like a distraction.”

“Being here is enough, don’t worry,” he says, maneuvering himself on the mattress before folding his legs against his chest, and honestly, he wishes that were true, he really does.

Because Eliott is Eliott, and he really doesn’t want his friend to feel bad about him any more than he already does — so Lucas does as he usually tries to do. He tries to shove it all as far down as possible, in the smallest corner of his brain, where it doesn’t hurt as much. He tries not to think about the fact that tomorrow is another day, that eventually he will have to come back home, and how much he doesn’t want that. He tries not to think that Eliott’s tee-shirt feels soft against his skin, and that even if it’s the weirdest sleepover they’ve ever had, even if something feels off, he still feels a thousand times better here than he does at home.

Eliott crosses his legs, and leans forward to reach for a pair of earbuds on his nightstand. “How about some music? You can choose whatever you want.”

Lucas’ eyes travel a few times between Eliott’s eyes and the earbud that is offered to him, and he picks up with a small huff. “Alright, okay.”

Eliott makes a small, content sound, like it makes him genuinely happy to spend the night with his grumpy self, listening to songs that aren’t even remotely close to his personal taste — and maybe Lucas goes along with it. Maybe he’s selfish like that, but this one night, he just gets along with it. He lets soft piano music soothe his mood a bit, slowly lulling him into sleep until his head gets too heavy and he has to drag himself to the guest mattress that has been set up for him like so many times before.

Crossing the street to go back home, that too he’s done a million times, but not often with that weird gut-feeling of walking right into a no man’s land. His dad’s car is nowhere to be seen, and the silence is deafening as he pads through the silent house. He shuffles upstairs to change before school, going about his morning routine with a weird tension lodged between his shoulder blades, his head too full of thoughts, and he’s shoving a biology textbook into his backpack when he sees it. It’s a DVD — Ratatouille. It’s, embarrassingly enough, one of those movies he could watch over and over again without ever tiring of it, and obviously Eliott knows, obviously, because they’ve watched it so many times since they were kids, and who else would have put it in there?

His mouth twists into half a smile when he picks up the DVD, a bright yellow sticky note on the front of the box. Everything is always better on Blu-ray, I promise ✳

11- Someone who fucking sticks around and doesn’t leave when things go to shit

A Blu-ray isn’t enough to make it all better, as it turns out, but Lucas surely appreciates Eliott’s gesture for what it is, and all those that follow later, when his family situation goes from bad to worse to terrible. He’s never made a habit of setting a stupid list of resolutions with every new year, but this time, and this time only, he’s resolved to stop thinking about that fucking new year. At best he’s allowing himself to laugh it off. Divorced parents? Funny as hell. Mom in a psychiatric ward? Hilarious. Family house on sale? Hysterical. They’re cruising around the near-empty supermarket, aimlessly going from one aisle to the next as Lucas picks up random stuff to drop them into the cart Eliott is pushing. It’s another Wednesday, it’s lunchtime, and he knows there’s nothing to eat at home, because there’s been no one to go grocery shopping for him.

“So what are you guys planning for tomorrow?”, he asks distractedly.

Just because he’s single doesn’t mean he’s clueless about the ways of those who aren’t — and he knows that tomorrow night is a big deal for Eliott, long before they even take left and stumble onto a sea of sugary pink and velvety red. An aisle has been pushed to the side at the center of the store to clear some more space for Valentine’s Day displays. The racks are filled with chocolates of all kinds and flavors, heart-wearing Teddy Bears, gifts, cards and even plastic flowers, but Eliott doesn’t really seem to pay attention to anything. Which, in itself, isn’t that surprising. He’s been dating Lucille for three months now, ever since they got paired together for some oral presentation at school and that it finally opened her eyes at how wonderful Eliott is, so Lucas doesn’t really expect his best friend to go for the first generic box of chocolates he finds.

“Uh, I don’t know,” Eliott says evasively, following Lucas when he walks past the Valentine’s Day area. “We haven’t talked about it much yet.”

Lucas hums. “It’s your first Valentine’s Day,” he points out distractedly, eyes skimming over various cereal brands, and he ends up reaching for a Crunch box that he drops into the cart, “I’d have expected you to buy balloons and a giant Teddy Bear or something.” Or simply to show up at Lucille’s window with a boombox, he almost adds, but he keeps it in just in time. Eliott doesn’t need any bad idea of that kind. Judging by his musical taste, it’s frankly better for everyone, starting with Lucille’s parents’ neighbors.

He hears Eliott toying with the shopping cart chain. “Luce’s kinda busy. Her parents are on her case with the BAC and all,” he says, and Lucas gives him a look, from his spot at the end of the aisle, that makes Eliott’s eyebrows shoot up innocently. “What?”

“Why are you lying?”, Lucas asks, squinting his eyes a little.

Eliott scoffs, but it comes out wrong — off-key. “I’m not lying.”

He’s definitely lying, Lucas thinks bluntly, and he rolls his eyes to himself. His best friend is so painfully transparent that he should probably be grateful about it, he should probably be happy that he’s able to read him like an open book, but instead he hates that Eliott doesn’t seem to have any clue when it comes down to it — it makes it even more annoying whenever he tries to lie to his face. “You are,” he retorts with a pointed stare. “What’s up? I thought you’d be over the moon or something.”

Eliott squirms behind the cart, his hands awkwardly drumming along the handle. “Oh, no I am, truly,” he says quickly, “I just thought we could… I don’t know, maybe go watch a movie or something. You and I.”

And there we go, Lucas thinks, and it’s like a weight is dropped onto his shoulders, making them slump with an inaudible woosh. There’s a pang inside his chest, and it’s not a big one, it’s not a breath-altering one, not those that make you want to curl into a ball and cry, it’s just the kind of sting that reminds you of a sore spot. A bruise still a little tender, a scar still noticeable.

“Are you asking me out, Demaury?” he snickers, trying to deflect the sudden change in the atmosphere, but he already knows it’s useless because he can’t be the only one going for it — they both have to play the same game, and he already knows Eliott isn’t willing to.

“I just think you might want some company,” Eliott says with a nice smile, and although Lucas loves that smile, he really does, this time it just doesn’t work.

“I’m fine,” he replies briskly, and he pulls sharply at the end of the shopping cart to move it forward. It’s a petty gesture that seems to startle Eliott, and he immediately feels bad about it. “Your girlfriend doesn’t need you to worry about me, she needs you to fuss over her.”

“But I-”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

Eventually Eliott nods, muttering a small ‘right’, and Lucas has to pretend he doesn’t want to rush out of here, lunch be damned. He hates it, he hates when Eliott is like this, and hates even more that it’s because of him. They walk through the store for a few more minutes, mostly in silence, only occasionally making a small comment or two about things they see on their way to the cash registers. Eliott starts filling the reusable shopping bags Lucas retrieves from his backpack while he pays a ridiculous amount of money for his purchases, and then they’re off.

“Hey,” Lucas mumbles pitifully as they reach the bus stop at the end of the parking lot. “I… I’m sorry if I was rude. I really appreciate what you do for me, everything, it’s just… I’m just trying to hold it together.” He looks away, tracing a weird line in the concrete from the tip of his shoe to avoid Eliott’s eyes.

“It’s okay, I shouldn’t be pushy,” Eliott says, and there’s the faint trace of a smile in his voice. He leans down to squeeze the shopping bag he’s holding between his feet. “But I want you to know I’m here, okay? I’m not going anywhere, so whenever you feel like talking… I’m here.”

It takes Lucas a few seconds to look up, and there’s something so soft and gentle into Eliott’s expression that it makes something melt into his chest almost instantly. He finds himself mirroring Eliott’s smile, albeit lamely — not quite as beautiful, not quite as warm, not quite as reassuring. He finds himself thinking about what Eliott just said for a while, as they hop into the bus and make their way home one stop after the other. He's not going to accept his offer for Valentine's Day, because if anyone deserves to be taken care of on that special day, it's Eliott's girlfriend. But still. Maybe, someday, he can manage to find someone who just doesn't leave.

15- Someone who feels like home

It’s a long while before he thinks about the list again — he doesn’t even know where it is, but he guesses moving abroad for a semester tends to do that to you. He’s in his second year of uni when he jumps on the Erasmus offer, and between paperwork and packing up and unpacking and settling down and trying to, maybe, eventually, meet some new people to make the next three months of his life somewhat relevant on a human level, he doesn’t have much time to think about whether or not he’s going to meet the man of his dreams at the next street corner, much less whether or not he checks an inordinate amount of criteria.

Frankly, it’s not that big of a deal. Lucas has never been excessively hopeful about it in the first place, so he can’t really say it’s something that requires a lot of self-discipline. Occasionally Eliott brings it up over text or FaceTime, because he’s an idiot like that, and he’s his best friend, so of course he considers it his double duty to bring up that kind of corny, embarrassing prospect.

“I don’t know, he’s kinda cute in a way,” Lucas says one day, roughly two weeks after landing in Oslo, about some guy he’s met at a party. He’s dutifully sent Eliott his Instagram handle for approval, and for the past few minutes they’ve been going through his publications over FaceTime, like they’re back in Lucas’ old bedroom, with Eliott on his bed and Lucas sitting on the floor.

“He looks fifteen,” Eliott replies unhelpfully, snickering a little. “Didn’t know it was a turn-on of yours. Did that one make the cut?”

“Shut up,” Lucas scoffs, and he regrets not being able to send something in Eliott’s face in retaliation. Besides, he looks barely his age himself, it’s not like he’s in a position to comment about someone else’s appearance — something Eliott promptly dismisses as soon as Lucas points it out, because ‘Lucas, don’t expect me to tell you you’re not ridiculously attractive’, and he’s vain enough to take the compliment without arguing.

After that, well, he goes back to not thinking about it.

Final terms are rolling around and he crams for it, and before he can even catch a breath, it’s already the end of the semester and Christmas is right at the corner. He lands back in France three days before Christmas Eve, and of course he crashes at Eliott’s, because he hasn’t spoken to his father in nearly four months and a half, so it’s not like he even has options to choose from — but he has to admit, it feels nice, knowing he’s going somewhere he’s wanted. Eliott has been buzzing over it for weeks now, making plans for movie nights and places to go and people to see, so much that Lucas almost forgot to be sad about leaving Oslo.

“I’m so fucking happy to have you back,” Eliott says excitedly, voice a little too loud in the narrow stairwell leading up to his third-floor one-bedroom flat, and he’s so eager that he ends up bumping Lucas’ suitcase a couple of times between the stairs, the wall and the banister.

“Jeez, calm down,” Lucas huffs, “the whole neighborhood doesn’t have to know I’m here, thanks.”

Eliott opens the door of his flat with a nudge from his shoulder, not looking even remotely sorry. “Well, that’s just the beginning if we get a place together,” he singsongs, and Lucas shakes his head a little — but deep down, he loves it. His cheeks are hurting from smiling, and he feels his shoulders relax instantly as soon as he crosses the threshold. Nothing has changed since he left last summer. Not that he expected it to, but it’s always nice. In the small, cramped living room, Eliott has already prepared a pillow and a comforter, carefully folded to the side of the couch, and it’s not even that late (not even 10), and the flight wasn’t even long (not even three hours), but Lucas already feels very compelled into dropping himself there and wrapping himself into the blanket — so he does just that. He quickly nibbles on a leftover sandwich he bought at the airport in Oslo, while Eliott excitedly rambles about some renting options he’s seen here and there, and then he quickly sets up his bed.

His best friend is sweet enough not to make fun of him for it, and when he flips off the light on his way out of the living room with a cheerful ‘sweet dreams’, Lucas doesn’t think, for one second, he can love him more than that.

“How about this?” Eliott grins triumphantly as he turns the lion plushie he had growing up in his direction. Lucas isn’t sure, but he thinks it might have been supposed to look like Simba, before he proceeded to drag it everywhere with him until the color irrevocably turned a dirty mix of greenish-yellow and grey. “Don’t you miss him?”

Lucas huffs, shaking his head, and he turns back to busy himself with a heavy storage box filled with what looks like bedsheets and drapes of various kinds. “I’m way past needing plushies, thanks,” he snorts, reaching for the plastic lid of the box to replace it in its dusty corner.

They’ve been here for about twenty minutes, in the storage unit where most of his and his mom’s stuff are neatly piled up in, and although he initially thought that this would be easy, because ‘C’mon, it’s just a storage unit, it’s not Versailles in there’, turns out there are lots and lots of things to search through. He doesn’t regret bringing Eliott along, to be honest; it takes at least two to make their way around all the stuff, and at least Eliott can reach the upper shelves. At first they had started renting the unit to store his mom’s things away after the divorce, but when Lucas moved to Norway, he couldn’t afford to pay both the student lodging and rent at his old flatshare simultaneously, so he was forced to give up his spot over there and to store his things here in the meantime.

“Have you no heart?” Eliott gasps, and when Lucas turns back, he’s pouting as he gives the plushie a sad look. “We’re definitely watching Toy Story tonight.”

Lucas rolls his eyes fondly with a scoff, and eventually, after another moment of staring, Eliott agrees to put the lion back into whatever cardboard or plastic box he found it and to move the fuck on. In the meantime, Lucas moves over to another stash of smaller plastic boxes, still looking for the clothes he left behind before Oslo, but it’s not long before Eliott makes another sound, that has Lucas’ head whipping around.

“Hey, remember this game?” he asks, grinning as he waves a version of Risk. “God I miss that old peasant woman who told us off whenever we would be beating up people.”

“Dark Eliott was really a formative experience, but don’t ever end up on the wrong side of the tracks, thanks,” Lucas snickers in his corner, taking the lid off one of the boxes before he starts rummaging through its content. There’s a bit of everything in there, from old assignments to a snapback, pictures, a couple of textbooks, and as he keeps digging through it all, Eliott huffs something he doesn’t quite catch.

It’s during that overall quiet and regular afternoon that the list makes its comeback into Lucas’ life, after months of barely giving it a thought, and maybe at least a year of not adding another entry; it slips out from an old Annabac textbook when he picks it up from the box. The fold is a little wrong and the corner slightly crumpled, and for a second he contemplates just shoving it back at the bottom box, because he’s really not in the mood to entertain that kind of ridiculously hopeful thoughts for a better future or whatever, but in the end there’s a weird kind of curiosity that pushes him to open it.

Just a quick look, he thinks, discreetly peering above his shoulder to find Eliott busy in the opposite corner. The list has a total of 54 entries, ranking from thoughtful to shallow to frankly depressing at times. A wry smile shows up on his lips at entry #4: he gotta be tall because I’m not spending my life climbing ladders to change light bulbs. Or even better, the entry #9: someone who makes me laugh so hard I cry — it has something terribly soft to it, almost… pure.

The entry #29 is entirely Eliott’s fault, he knows it right off the bat: not too many tattoos thanks. It’s crossed, because shortly afterwards Eliott got his first tattoo for some obscure reason, and despite Lucas’ adamant protests, his best friend insisted that he accompanied him to the parlor for the big day — and then he got another tattoo, and another, and after some time Lucas was forced to realize that… okay maybe tattoos were okay.

The rest of the entries are sometimes awfully precise (#34 ‘light eyes????? Fuck yes?????’ and #41 ‘abs. abs. abs.’), or completely vague (#29 Fucking consistent). And then there’s entry #50. One of the last entries, that he probably wrote towards the end of high school or during his first year of uni, during a lonely evening at the flatshare — a very graphic description of what he’d want his imaginary boyfriend to do to him, which he had written after watching some porn locked up in his bedroom.

“What are you doing?”

Eliott’s voice sounds so close that Lucas startles guiltily, snapping the list down against his chest in the textbook definition of caught red-handed. Eliott’s eyebrows shoot up as they make eye-contact, and Lucas tries to ignore the way his cheeks heat up. “I- uh- nothing,” he croaks out. “Just going through old stuff.”

There’s a glint in Eliott’s eyes, like he knows, like he can read through his fucking mind — like he too just read that entry #50. Stop fucking spiraling, he doesn’t know shit, he admonishes himself. The only thing he knows is that Lucas is acting like a teenager caught looking at porn.

“What?”, he asks, trying to find back his composure.

Eliott shrugs, with that annoying little smirk on his ridiculously pretty face. “Nothing,” he says, voice drawling a little, but he’s motioning next to Lucas to busy himself with the upper shelves in Lucas’ direct vicinity, and he knows his best friend is being annoying on purpose.

Lucas squints at him from the corner of his eyes. Seemingly unbothered, Eliott stands onto his tiptoes, arms extended at their maximum capacity to reach for a big, dusty cardboard box almost touching the ceiling, and his tee-shirt is riding high and showing the smallest trace of his rib tattoo curling down his side, and that’s when it creeps onto Lucas, at the worst, most inopportune moment. His eyes travel back and forth between Eliott and the list a couple of times, and despite his best efforts to keep calm, Lucas’ stomach starts doing a weird somersault.

Oh no.

Here is the thing.

When he started making that list, he was never planning on his best friend checking pretty much all the boxes right off the bat. That couldn’t have been farther away from what he had in mind, he’s pretty fucking sure of it. And yet here he is. He’s slipped the list into the front pocket of his hoodie before they left the storage unit, and then he took it out to shove it in his laptop bag, where he’s pretty sure no one will find it. It’s not that he’s afraid Eliott would be weirded out about it, it’s just… It’s a lot. Because it’s one thing to be aware that your best friend is insanely attractive, and it’s another one to think that maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t mind being the one he kisses, the one he pulls by the waist at night, and the one who makes him feel good in bed.

The irony of the calendar (and his life, really), makes it that the next few days are just a whirlwind of Eliott Eliott Eliott, and by the time Christmas rolls around, Lucas is ready to die. Not because he doesn’t want his best friend anywhere near, but because he would very, very much appreciate if his brain could just fucking stop bringing up that wishlist every fucking five minutes — every single time he so much as glances or thinks about Eliott. Which tends to be problematic when he’s literally living with him at the moment. All of a sudden it’s like he’s hyper-aware of all the times Eliott smiles at him, reaches out to ruffle his hair in the morning, or has a nice gesture of any kind. It’s like he feels somewhat guilty for every laughter they share, and when they go do some last-minute Christmas shopping, Lucas walks around on automatic pilot for the better part of the afternoon, after inadvertently catching sight of Eliott’s arm flung around his shoulders in a mirror.

The only upside of having a dysfunctional family is that for at least 24h it takes Lucas’ mind off Eliott and that weird-ass situation his fifteen-year-old self put him in the first place. He spends Christmas Eve with his father and his new wife in a restaurant, and if one can’t be caught dead trying anything to make his son feel at ease, the other is trying so fucking hard it makes Lucas wants to throw himself in the traffic on the way to pick up his mom at her subway stop. Because yes, his stepmother insisted that he brings his mother, and Lucas was chicken enough to accept, just so that he wouldn’t have to sit through the whole dinner with his father and his weirdly enthusiastic second wife.

The whole dinner is as awkward as it can possibly be, but then Lucas comes back to Eliott’s place, early enough that his best friend is still at his grandparents’, and he tries to make sense of the feeling of relief he feels when he drops himself on the couch, only to see Eliott’s sketchbook on the coffee table, and Eliott’s hoodie thrown carelessly on the armrest, and Eliott’s drawings pinned up on the walls, and the piano pushed in the corner. It used to be in Eliott’s bedroom back at his parents’, and they would mess around trying to get the Star Wars theme right with four hands on the keyboard.

None of these things feel new — but all the hyper-awareness is weird enough to make him want to scream and hits his head repeatedly with the flat of his hand. And the worst part is that it keeps going on like this. Spending Christmas day at the Demaurys’ shouldn’t feel so weird either, and yet. He’s always been Eliott’s platonic plus one at every single one of his family birthday dinner, so he knows everyone and everything about this family. He knows that one of Eliott’s uncles and his godfather will inevitably end up on different sides of an argument about politics, that Eliott’s dad will probably try to lighten the mood, that Eliott’s younger cousins will pout for a fair share of lunch or dinner except when they’ll venture on TikTok halfway through, that Eliott’s grandmother will make a passive-aggressive comment or two about the food that his mother will try to ignore, and at some point, as always, she’ll go to the kitchen, and make a weird face only for Lucas to see, and that he’ll have to bite the inside of his cheek not to laugh — he knows all of that, because he’s been around for fifteen years.

But still it does feel weird. A little bit. And not just because he’s never spent a Christmas dinner with them. It feels weird, because it downs on him that Eliott is single, and that he’s single too, and that although Eliott’s mother welcomes him as soon as Eliott walks him and asks if they can add a plate, when they take off their coats, Lucas catches a silent conversation between her and her husband that results into Eliott’s dad shrugging. Did they ever think they were more than friends? Did they ever think Lucas was more than just the kid from across the street with a fucked-up family? Because he himself never did, but now it’s all he can think about. And if he had been a girl, or if Eliott had been a girl, if they had been in a boy/girl kind of friendship, he knows that at some point the Demaurys would have asked for ground rules, no matter how ridiculous it would have felt for them. No closed doors in the afternoon, no sleepovers in the same room, and with every birthday dinner or birthday lunch, people would have just assumed they were a particularly chill couple who refrained on PDA.

So that’s how he spends his Christmas lunch, alongside the Demaury family. He laughs at the jokes thrown around, at the same family memories he’s heard a bunch of times already, rolls his eyes at the political arguments on the other end of the table, and spends entirely too much time pondering the ins and outs of heteronormativity and the way it may or may not have shaped his relationship to his best friend.

“You okay?”, Eliott asks at some point on his way back from the kitchen, squeezing his shoulders lightly, and Lucas has to crane his neck all the way up to make eye-contact because his best friend is standing behind him.

“Yeah, I’m all good,” he says with a smile, and when Eliott goes to sit back at the table, Lucas tries his best to ignore another look he catches between Eliott’s parents.

“Can I ask you something?” Eliott asks from his spot against the stove, hands tightly wrapped around his mug while Lucas pours himself his second coffee of the day.

It’s officially the last week of the year, and to Lucas’ great dismay, he’s not particularly sure that any of his internal questioning sessions will die at midnight on New Year Eve. To make matters even worse, he doesn’t feel like he’s slept one bit, and although he initially tried to conceal it at best as he could, he guesses he’s making a poor job considering Eliott joined him for breakfast roughly three minutes ago and is already picking up on the signs.

“Yeah, sure,” Lucas says, trying to sound relaxed, nose in his mug to avoid looking Eliott in the eyes.

“You would tell me if you didn’t want us to move in together, right?” Eliott enquires after a moment. “I mean, it’s not the first time I get an idea and I run away with it and you’re…”

“No, no, I still want to,” Lucas interrupts, and he hopes his voice doesn’t sound as weird and scratchy as it feels in his throat. Because he does. He genuinely still does want to go through with it, because no matter how fucked up his brain is making things for him lately, Eliott is still the closest from home he’s ever felt.

Eliott hums. “Oh, okay,” his voice trails off, sounding hesitant, “I mean I was afraid you might have changed your mind and didn’t know how to tell me.”

Lucas laughs, but deep down he wants to slap himself because it sounds like chalk screeching on a blackboard in the silent kitchen corner. God you’re so fake. “I don’t know where you got this idea, I’m still 1000% in.”

Eliott looks sheepish, chewing onto his bottom lip uncomfortably. “Look, I know… I mean you’ve been kind of quiet lately, and I know sometimes you get lost in your head a bit. I don’t want you to think you can’t, like, talk to me or anything.”

Lucas’ grip tightens around his mug. He doesn’t deserve Eliott. No one does, but especially not him. “I’m fine it’s just… You know, Christmas mood isn’t my strong suit,” he mumbles, eyes falling. “Plus, going through all that stuff the other day… It brings up some memories.”

After all, it’s not a lie. It did bring up a lot of feelings and thoughts, and although they aren’t all that unpleasant, it’s surprisingly difficult to maintain eye-contact with your best friend when you spent most of the past few days trying not to picture his mouth on you.

“I’m sorry,” Eliott says, sounding so absolutely genuine that Lucas wants to smash something — preferably his head against the kitchen sink. “Of course I don’t know how you feel but, you’re not going through it alone, right? I’m here for you. Always have and always will.”

Lucas swears he could cry. He can’t possibly keep it to himself. Not when Eliott is his best friend, not when they’re just about to start looking for a place to live together, not when the longest Lucas has tried to hide a secret from him was exactly ten hours. “You’re checking a bunch of boxes,” Lucas confesses with a long sigh, eyes falling shut for a second.

A weird kind of silence settles in the kitchen, tension lodging between Lucas’ shoulders.

“What are you talking about?”, Eliott asks after a moment.

“The boyfriend list,” Lucas mumbles, shaking his head to himself. “Or wishlist or whatever. It’s fucking dumb, I know, and I never realized that before, but the other day I found that stupid list again in my stuff at the storage unit, and now I don’t know what to do with it, or what to think.”

If anyone needs a guide on how to ruin a lifelong friendship, Lucas Lallemant is your reference, he thinks humorlessly. But it’s Eliott. So maybe it’s not that bad, right? It doesn’t have to be a big deal. And okay, maybe he is making a big deal out of it, maybe he wouldn’t have to be afraid about Eliott’s reaction if he wasn’t the one making it sound like-

“And you feel like… it’s a problem?” Eliott asks carefully, as if he had followed his train of thoughts.

Lucas sneers, finally turning around to meet Eliott’s eyes. “Well, you tell me. I’m shaping my imaginary boyfriend after my childhood best friend, what does it say about me?” He’s pretty positive it’s not the sign of someone with a perfectly balanced life.

“That you have great taste,” Eliott grins, but it kind of turns into a wince when Lucas lets out a groan. “Hey, it doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want to, alright? I’m nothing extraordinary, I’m sure plenty of guys check those boxes.”

“But…?”, Lucas prompts, because it feels a lot like Eliott isn’t done but he’s really close to tell him that pausing for dramatic effect right now is definitely not the nice thing to do.

Eliott’s hands are still gripping tight his coffee mug. “But nothing. Like I said,” Eliott adds, clearing his throat a little, “it doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.”

Suddenly it hits Lucas that he sounds fucking nervous, like, actually nervous. Why is he nervous? Oh right. He just made things weird. “Why? Do you want it to mean something?”, he asks, hoping to go for a casual laugh, but it comes out wrong, off-key.

“Well… I started making a list too, a couple of years ago,” Eliott says, before pausing. His mouth twists a little. “And it’s… uh, it’s possible you’re checking a bunch of boxes as well.”

Well that’s just getting better and better, Lucas almost says. It’s Eliott’s turn to avoid his eyes and Lucas isn’t sure what’s going on but he’s pretty positive he doesn’t like it, because now things aren’t just weird on his part anymore, and he has no idea what to do with that piece of information.

Eventually, because he’s like that, Lucas snorts — it’s just too much. “Look, I appreciate it if you’re trying to make me feel better but-”

Eliott looks offended. “I’m not,” he says, sounding earnest, and Lucas’ words die in his throat. “Okay, you know what? Come with me.” He puts his mug down onto the kitchen elements, and Lucas doesn’t even have the time to say anything before Eliott motions to leave the kitchen, dragging him along in his wake. His own coffee mug still in his hands, he stares in confusion as they walk into the living room, his best friend going to retrieve one of his sketchbooks from the tiny coffee table.

The next few seconds are particularly silent as Eliott flicks through the pages, but he eventually exhumes a loose leaf from the depths of the sketchbook. What strikes Lucas first is that there’s a lot of black ink on it. Lines, sometimes full-on paragraphs have been crossed with a thick black marker, which offers a stark contrast with Eliott’s rather small but clean handwriting.

“See? I’m not lying,” he says, and he seems to hesitate for a split second, before he hands it to Lucas. “You can read it, if you want.”

No that’s personal, is the first thing that comes to his mind. It’s the right thing to do. It’s the kind of thing he would want people to think about his very own stuff — that it’s off-limit, that peeking is rude, that it’s intrusive. He knows he’s an adult, he knows that, and Eliott is an adult too, and even more so they literally grew up together, they figured shit out together, so it’s not like Eliott would bat an eye if he ever read anything about Lucas’ slightly graphic descriptions, no.

But would he die on the spot from the sheer embarrassment? Probably.

And yet — when Eliott holds his list, he picks it up. He’s a hypocrite like that.

“Boy there's a lot of marker,” he says dumbly, cocking an eyebrow, but deep down all he can think about is that he’s holding that stupid list Eliott wrote, about the things he wants in a partner, and he hates, he hates that there’s some kind of weird hope fluttering deep inside him.

His eyes skim over the entries, more avidly than he’d like to admit. Naturally, Eliott my-head-in-the-cloud Demaury cannot go straight to the point, so it’s not surprising that each entry turns out to be at least a full sentence long.

3- They don’t mind a good challenge and won’t pass on an occasion to try out new things even if that means stepping out of their comfort zone.

8- They understand that mental health isn’t smiling all the time.

14- They’re straight-forward enough to say when things aren’t fine and don’t dismiss it with a shrug.

“Okay but that could be anyone, Eliott,” Lucas says flatly, turning the page over, and he tries his best not to feel disappointed because it’s not like he has the right to be. “And I’m sorry but I think the last time someone called me ‘optimistic’ was, like, in kindergarten, and it was about another Lucas.”

“Well that’s the thing,” Eliott argues with a small shrug, and he buries his hands in his pockets. “To me it’s kind of… you. And I know it’s confusing because well, I was there too, but I feel like… I don’t know, the point of making a list like that in the first place is to figure out what matters and what we want, no?”

Lucas’ hand tightens around his mug. “I mean, yes,” he admits, voice dragging slowly on the last word. But does that mean you want me? He can’t get the words out, it’s like his mouth is full of gravel. Another reason why Eliott’s list can’t possibly be about him, he’s far, very, very far from being brave. Or even ‘quick-witted’ for that matter — he only has biting come-backs that would also get him beaten up in middle school. “But between knowing what makes you comfortable and knowing that you want to know your best friend in the biblical sense, there’s an ocean,” Lucas points out, a bit more dryly than intended.

Eliott’s cocks an eyebrow. “In the biblical sense,” he repeats, laughter not far behind as he perches himself onto the armrest of the couch, and just because of that, because of the subtle way Eliott’s voice changes, because Lucas knows he’s biting back a laugh — it’s because of these small things that the tension lifts a little, and that the atmosphere shifts to something more bearable.

“You know what I mean,” Lucas huffs.

Eliott grins, that kind of annoying grin that made Lucas smack his face with textbooks back in the days. “Oh, yeah, I do, don’t worry about that.”

Lucas rolls his eyes, eventually glancing back to Eliott’s list — but it’s like the words don’t print themselves in his brain, like he can’t comprehend those simple sentences written in Eliott’s oh-so-clean handwriting. “You haven’t told me what all that marker was about,” he croaks out after a moment of silence.

“And how about you tell me how you actually feel about this?”, Eliott asks gently. He rises up from the couch, stepping closer, and Lucas finally finds the courage to look up long enough to hand him back his list.

“I think that you deserve to find someone more than anyone else in the world,” Lucas says, voice getting a bit quiet as he grabs tightly his cold coffee mug with both hands. “But I don’t know if that someone could be me. I never thought… I mean it’s only been a couple of days, before that I never thought of us like that.”

“But you did in the end,” Eliott points out.

It gets Lucas’ brain to work, the wheels turning even faster — because Eliott’s right. He didn’t come to think of being romantically involved with Eliott because Eliott showed him his list, he got there all by himself. And the problem isn’t that Eliott is repulsing, it’s not that the thought of kissing him and going on dates with him is weird, it’s not that falling asleep next to Eliott is grossing him out. The problem is-

“I think I just don’t want to risk losing you,” Lucas admits in a whisper, eyes falling. He’s never been in an actual relationship. His list of exes should be requalified as, at best, weeks-long flings, and he does not particularly think he’ll be a natural at this, courtesy to his parents displaying the opposite of a healthy relationship for most of his life — the last thing he wants is to hurt Eliott in the process of trying and failing.

He only looks up when Eliott’s hands cover his own around the coffee mug. “I know. And I know no amount of promises on my part will make it better, but if you need me to I’ll repeat it every single day.” His thumb gently caresses the back of Lucas’ hand. “I’ll be there as long as you want me to. And if you don’t want me like that, then it’s fine too. I’ll still be there no matter what.”

Lucas takes a deeper inhale. “Why are you so calm about all of this? How long have you been sitting on that shit to be so chill now?”

Eliott looks sheepish. “Two, three years maybe.” Lucas’ mouth falls open, but Eliott quickly adds: “I mean, it’s not that I was like, just fantasizing about you for like three years straight, it’s just that, like, I always thought you were always the one that…” His voice trails off and he huffs a laugh. “See why I didn’t say anything before? It’s just… it’s so hard to explain.”

“Yeah,” Lucas snorts, chewing onto his bottom lip. “Tell me about it.”

But deep down he’s starting to understand what Eliott means. It’s hard to put into words every little thing that makes Eliott the person he needs most. Something not even a list of a thousand entries can do. And maybe that’s why it feels so alien that, to Eliott, he’s the perfect match to his wishlist. To me it is you, Eliott had said before, and now he gets it. He gets it because Eliott’s hands are around his own, he gets it because Eliott would probably be willing to tattoo ‘I will not leave you alone’ somewhere on his arm if Lucas asked. He gets it because Eliott has been sitting on his own feelings for three years, and still he helped him out pick up guys, sort out his life, encouraged him to leave for a whole different country, and he was only brave enough to go through any of it because Eliott made him feel like he was capable of doing so.

“My list is a mess,” Lucas confesses. “And I should probably cover a thing or two before you see it because that’s, like, not appropriate for a first table read. But if you want to read it… Then you can read it. And then you can decide if you think you can put up with me more than you already do.”

Eliott’s smile is soft and blinding at the same time. He takes one of his hands off Lucas’, and when he pulls him closer by the neck, Lucas still feels weird about it, but not in a bad way; there’s just something churning in his stomach that wasn’t there not so long ago. He just leans into the touch as Eliott’s lips press onto his cheek, because Eliott smells good, and it makes him feel warm and protected in a way no one else ever made him feel.

“I’ll be honest,” Eliott says quietly, not pulling much away, “that’s why there’s so much marker on mine.”

This time Lucas feels warm for a whole different reason. He feels the tip of his ears heating up a little bit, and he’s positive it doesn’t have to do with Eliott’s immediate vicinity. “Well,” he says, clearing his throat a little bit, “that’s… something to think about.”

“One step at a time though.”

Lucas finds himself smiling, mirroring Eliott’s expression, his eyes trailing a second too long on Eliott’s lips. “Yeah. One step at a time.”

#skam france #elu fic #eluficrec #mine #*#it's been so long i feel like i don't know how to write anymore <333 #*my fics

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