#idk man this is just weighing particularly heavy on me right now; my heart is legitimately still hurting

[nattikay]

ok so um. There’s certainly plenty to be said about Way of Water, plenty of lil comments I want to make...but before I can post about any of that (separately), I just need to ramble about Neteyam a little bit. Bear with me. ;_;  (yes, this will be spoilery)

so the idea that Neteyam was going to die had already been pretty prominent in the fandom for several months. At first it seemed to me to be based on nothing but wild speculation for potential sad plot points. But the more and more promotional material came out, the more and more plausible the theory became, much to my dismay. By the time we reached release day, I had already (if reluctantly) resigned myself to thinking that yes, it was probably going to happen. 

And sure enough, it did.

Even going in knowing full well it was extremely likely to happen, even going in having 100% accepted that it was bound to happen and fully expecting it....gosh it still hurt to watch.

I will admit, I did not cry nearly as much as I expected to during this movie. I teared up a bit multiple times, definitely felt the physical heartache plenty, but nothing spilled over. I thought this was kinda weird, given that previously I’d shed tears even over certain shots from the trailer.

When Neteyam died and I absolutely felt my heart breaking in two yet tears still didn’t fall despite the emotional pain I was absolutely in, I realized why: I was just really dehydrated ^^;

see, worried about having to use the bathroom during the long runtime, I’d been very careful to drink as little as possible throughout the day. Well....it technically worked I guess. I certainly didn’t need to go to the bathroom. but it looks like it dried up most of my tears too (maybe not a wholly bad thing given that this was in public, I suppose).

....and yet despite that, DESPITE my dehydration........that ending???? that ending?????? let’s just say I STILL managed to leave the theater with a tearstained face

“bittersweet” is certainly A Word

just

m a n 😭

and I mean. from a writing perspective, I get it. I really do. The “before your birth, after your death” etc theme ran throughout the movie. Using an unrelated character to do it wouldn’t have as strong an emotional impact as using one of the core family. I get it. As a narrative choice, it makes sense.

but from an in-universe/character-pov perspective....gosh golly that hurt. that hurrrrrrrttttt and I don’t know if I’m ok. ngl i legit feel vaguely ill ;_;

My current job is fairly mindless work, so while I’m working my brain can wander. Naturally today my mind was on the fact that I’d been seeing the movie later so of course I thought a lot about it. Like I said earlier, I was already aware of the Neteyam-dies theory (well, no longer a theory I guess) and at that point had accepted it as inevitable, if depressing. I’d been trying to come to terms with it for a while already.

Those who have followed me long enough might know that there’s another movie I like called Wolf Children. It’s a beautiful movie, honestly, one that I appreciate very much, but have only watched a small handful of times because it makes me sob every single time. It’s about a woman who meets a...well, basically a werewolf (except that the transformations are voluntary), they fall in love and have two kids, but right after the birth of the second one the father dies in an accident, leaving the normal-human mother, to raise these two wolf kids on her own. And that’s most of the movie, following the family as the kids grow up until at the end of the movie all three characters go their separate ways. The ending always felt a little bittersweet to me because, even though both children are alive and well living their own lives, the mother is alone again, with only her memories. We saw the whole childhood, that special time as a family unit, and now that period of their lives is over.

That is, essentially, what I was expecting to be done with Neteyam. Watch his whole life, from birth to, well, in his case death. We see the whole thing and then it’s over, no more future with the rest of his family. Which hurts. And yes, that’s...more or less what happened.

While the two scenarios are not perfectly comparable, mentally framing Neteyam’s (then-impending, now-confirmed) death in terms of Wolf Children did actually help me cope with the then-theory. 

I have to remind myself that even though his story is over, and that it ended tragically, that what we saw...wasn’t everything. It was snippets. We saw only very few snippets. For long stretches in between those snippets. For roughly 15 years the Sully family lived more or less in peace. Neteyam had a happy childhood. He lived all that, even though we only saw it so very briefly. I have to remind myself of this, repeatedly.

because even knowing that, watching the tragedy...it’s...it’s hard...

i just...

i just...

and then that. that ending I--

I just--

my heart is broken, it is aching, i cannot ;_;

[volleychumps]

Found your tumblr acc recently and im INLOVE with it 😂. Idk if this is weird but, Can i request a fluffy imagine with nishinoya, bokuto, oikawa, and kuroo in which before practice the reader underestimates he's ability to lift stuff (calling him weak and other stuff) then out of nowhere, he lifts the reader to prove how strong he is and the other volleyball members there are like "... B r u h" lmao

c u t e 

Warning(s); cursing

Underestimating Their Ability to Lift Things and Getting Lifted in the Process (Nishinoya, Bokuto, Oikawa, and Kuroo) -headcannons-

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

Nishinoya

- come on you know better

- is the hardest simp for you, but you always say no because you really can’t take him seriously with the way he fawns over girls 

- so surprise surprise when he literally almost cries in joy when you pop your head into the volleyball gym with a stack of chairs they had requested tucked under your arm

- “Need a man to help you carry those, Y/N?” all puppy dog like, omg please pet him 

- “A man?” You tease, not seeing the way he had frowned while stilling in place “It’s okay, I doubt you could handle it-” 

- a whole beat of silence comes from him amongst the rowdiness of the gym before his eyes shine over in competitiveness

- and you don’t notice until he’s literally holding you by the waist, lifting you up like you weigh nothing with the chairs 

- grins widely up at you, blinking as if nothing were the matter as heat floods your cheeks

- he was literally holding you like a child, and you have to tighten your hold on the chairs so they don’t fucking fall 

- Now the whole gym was silent: like why the hell is their libero holding up some random girl in the middle of the entrance 

- “...do I need to call the police-” “Tsukki nO-” 

- Asahi’s literally palming his face while Suga is covering Hinata’s and Yamaguchi’s eyes, telling them not to take notes on how to treat the girls they like

- Daichi is behind him in a second, sweatdropping and ready to catch you if Noya decides to drop you because he’s so unpredictable 

- Tanaka is in the background nodding his head in approval while Kiyoko is just lightly shaking her head and thinking of a billion ways to apologize to you

- “O-okay, you can handle it!” You manage out, flushed as Noya’s grin widens, putting you down before scratching the back of his head

- “So ice cream after school?” As if he didn’t just pick you the fuck up, and your heart beats surprisingly a little quicker at the situation before you groan, spinning on your heel

- “...yes. It’s not a date though!” 

- let’s just say the gasp around the gym was collective as you rushed away, Noya grinning like a madman before punching the air as Suga and Tsukishima blink in disbelief 

- “That did not just work-” “I’ve suddenly seen enough today, I’d like to go home.” 

Bokuto

- bold of you to assume he wouldn’t 

- you’re the manager of the Fukurodani volleyball team, and you’re filling a large container with water bottles for the boys after they finish practice

- Bokuto’s your boyfriend, but still a newly-minted one that was always leaving practice to come up to you to bargain for hugs to keep him energized

- hugs are just his thing, okay?

- “Y/N can I help?! That looks heavy!” “I don’t know Bo...it seems like a bit much for you, don’t you think?”

- literally does not pick up on the teasing in your tone, and his face falls for a second before his eyes light up with an idea 

- so imagine Fukurodani’s surprise when a shriek fills the gym, and all of practice stops to see their ace had somehow managed to slip away from practicing to be the core reason of said shriek

- deadass lifts you high enough to where you’re sitting on his shoulders, legs draping over them as a hot blush fills your cheeks as he bounces on the balls of his feet, as if he were warming up

- “And now I’m gonna run-!” “Bo, nO-” 

- Akaashi takes a good two seconds to pinch the bridge of his nose as Konoha cackles at the sight before them, Bokuto grabbing your thighs to keep you steady as he runs around the outer gym

- Komi and Sarukui both shake their heads in disbelief as you hold onto Bokuto for dear life 

- “Konoha, get over here and help me stop him.” “Akaashi he’s your pet, you go get him.”

- only lets you down when he runs a full lap, and you blink in slight dizziness before expecting he’ll let you down-

- sike bitch you thought 

- “Y/N, can you do that cute thing where you lean your head over?” “Like...this?” 

- you’re still trying to get your thoughts together, and you hang your head over his upside down so your hair is draping downward, meeting Bokuto’s gold eyes from the odd angle 

- kisses the tip of your nose after grinning at your obedience, and you yelp before hiding your face in your hands after straightening with a blush

- Akaashi approaches him as if he has a hostage, both hands in the air as it looks like Bokuto’s about to start running again with a dazed you atop his shoulders

- I’m dying Konoha’s filming this 

- “Bokuto put her down.” “Gotta catch me first, Akaashi!” 

Oikawa

- “Why are you standing in front of Y/N-chan?” “Stop whining, idiot- it’s so you don’t look at her ass while she’s helping the coach lift some of the trophies onto the shelves of the gym.” 

- gasps at the accusation as you stifle a laugh from above, balanced atop stacked practice mats with Iwaizumi and Matsukawa chilling in front of you 

- “Y/N-chan, I’m being bullied down here!” “...I don’t know, maybe they’re onto something-” 

- feigns a second gasp of shock as you giggle before slightly struggling to lift a particularly heavier trophy onto the shelves 

- “Need help?” he’s done joking now, frowning when he sees you wobbling from your balance as you offer him a thumbs up when you lift it, too distracted to think about the impact of your next words 

- “As if you could offer me any form of help, you pampered setter.” 

- I kid you not this brunette really took those words to heart despite the laughs Iwa and Mattsun gave at your words, and walked up to your balanced form to push lightly on one of the mats 

- bitch the fuck

- you yelp before Oikawa catches you smoothly bridal-style, hugging one of the smaller trophies to your chest as you blink up at him with an owlish expression as he grins down at you

- “...did..did you just push me over to prove a point-” “OI SHITTYKAWA” 

- “Hang on tight, Y/N-chan, we’re going for a spin!” “A what-” 

- runs away with you in his arms as Iwa and Mattsun call after you like some kind of parents as you run away with an unapproved boyfriend 

- “...should we help her Kunimi?” “Nah she’s a goner, Kindaichi.” 

- Hanamaki considers tripping his captain but decides against it because it would probably hurt you too as you wrap your arms around his neck to keep from falling

- “...if you really want me to get her I can tackle really well.” “Kyoutani, sit your ass down.” 

- only sets you down when he makes it to the hallway conjoined with the gym, laughing at your bewildered expression as your back touches one of the lockers 

- “Still think I can’t help you, Y/N-chan?” “You are so dramatic, Oikawa Tooru.” 

- you shake your head before going to walk back to practiice only for his arm to stop you as he pouts down at you, leaning down as the pout contorts to a smirk

- “And what if I said I just wanted to get you and your pretty face alone?”

Kuroo

- “Kuroo stop flirting with our manager, you have to share!” “She’s my girlfriend, you imbecile.” 

- glares at Lev who pouts, wanting your attention as the tall boy impatiently waits to talk to you before you giggle, gently pushing your boyfriend away 

- “I’m everyone’s manager babe. I need Lev’s help to lift some of the mats out of the gym.” ...why didn’t you just ask me?”

- in all honesty you didn’t really think much of asking your boyfriend for help first, thinking it wasn’t a big deal as you grin teasingly 

- “Duh. Because I doubt you’d be able to carry one, babe.” “Is that right?” 

- But you’re already walking away to bend down to help Lev with the mats, not seeing the glint in Kuroo’s feral eyes as he watches 

- not gonna lie he was probs looking at your ass and trying not to admire it because he was trying to be annoyed 

- so as you come back laughing alongside Lev he’s really annoyed now, so when you bend back down again he walks up to you and scoops you up from behind, flinging you over his shoulder like a rag doll possessively 

- “Tetsurou, what-?!” “Team meeting!” 

- And I kid you not Kuroo leads this team meeting in the most casual-manner with you slung over his shoulder, Kenma sighing because he feels bad for you as if it were a test of trust, daring anyone to look at what was his 

- “Hey Kuroo? You’ve got a little something...” “Where, Yaku?” 

- “...oh nevermind, just a fly.” “YAKU MORISUKE-” 

- grins as he ignores you hitting him on the back, and when the meeting���s over he doesn’t put you down as he hums, lifting three of the mats with one hand

- “...I get it. You can lift things. Put me down now.” “I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart.” 

- Lev is lowkey jealous while Yamamoto gapes at the cuteness of you two as you kiss the top of Kuroo’s head with a pout, trying to bargain you’re way down as Kuroo simply ignores you 

- “They’re an odd couple.” “If I said what she did, it would probably be me- he’s just insane.” 

- “KENMA I HEARD THAT.” “Says the guy with his girlfriend slung forcibly over his shoulder.” 

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

General Works: @takemetovalhalla @savemesteeb @kasandrafaye@dreebbles @yams046 @aprettyfruit @therestless101 @dai-tsukki-desu @lifeisntjustblackandwhite @curiouslilbeast@wisepandaslimeland @deadontheinsidebut @lmkjimin@h0ngh0ngh0ng @theworldupthere @itz-tooru @orangegiraffe7@let-me-have-my-own-name

[kiefbowl]

ew why tf are you dating a scrote

okay this is clearly a troll, but I’ll answer anyway since this seems to be a topic of interest to people lately. I wrote a lot and talked about sexual assault, so go ahead and skip it if that’s not your jam. disclaimer: I don’t have a problem or think there’s anything wrong with people who don’t want to follow me bc of the bf. that’s legitimate! please do what suits you. I think some of my responses have been perceived as snarky in the past but I only try to be snarky when I suspect a troll, I really don’t have a problem with people unfollowing me b/c of the bf or even telling me about it.

I worked with Malcolm for about a year and a half before we go together, but we got together for the first time 5 months after I had a brief but intense love affair with a meth addict that ended in big traumatic ways after he started using heavily again, which eventually cultivated in him raping me (not that it was the only sexual violence I experienced with him but that time was particularly horrific because I was heartbroken and he was high on meth). he was also a man, and the reason I started dating him isn’t so clear to me except that I was looking for a way to live recklessly and self harm. There’s a longer story there but the details can’t be told concisely and it’s no one’s business. In any case, everything that happened with him is not worth recounting, but it was long and complicated and continued even after the rape. To give some context about how bad it was, I also had worked with the meth addict (I’m not using his name on purpose), and part way through our relationship he got a new job. a couple weeks after the rape, he lost that job and got his old job back. yeah, imagine being dumped by a meth addict and the being raped by him and then he starts working with you when you know he is using now. not fun, pretty sad to think about.

I was in a very traumatized state for months. It’s hard to describe what it’s like, except you don’t feel like you’re living. You can feel very foreign to your own life. I felt like something inside of me was constantly pressing against me to get out, and if it did it would be me screaming. Like, my skin had become a suit to mask the babbling lunatic underneath. I would have random outbursts where I would wince in pain and people would ask what was up and it was just that the emotional pain was felt so sharply it became physical, but I felt like I couldn’t be honest with people. I did go to therapy, it felt like life and death. right around the time before Malcolm and I together, so a few months into therapy, my therapist gave me permission to feel okay seeking out love, sex, and relationships, because I was feeling very guilty that I might be using someone if I did. In any case, Malcolm showed up to my bday party, and was one of the last to leave, and I just was ready for the next thing after the meth addict bf. Every day I didn’t have sex, the last person I had sex with was him. I wanted to be normal again. I was feeling a little better, less freakish, but still so sad. So I said, okay Malcolm, come home with me and he did. It didn’t seem so bad to take Malcolm home with me because I wasn’t very interested in him long term, so it seemed like low stakes to end up hurting him. Low investment. Yadda yadda.

Malcolm was also convenient, he lived walking distance. he was nice, friendly, easy to hang out with. our emotional intimacy was very low, it was low low low low maintenance dating. Malcolm felt very safe, he was the polar opposite of the other bf. we had a casual, boring, unintimidating fling for a few months that sputtered out. if the other bf was like riding a roller coaster that was condemned, Malcolm was like taking a nap on the bus back home after a long exhausting day at the amusement park. I know, it’s not very sexy. But it was nice to feel like a human again, have proof I could be normal, proof I could do unsexy things like watch tv and go to brunch and it didn’t feel like I was a freak for trying after months of feeling like I had a neon sign over my head that said “idiot adult woman dated meth addict like it wasn’t going to end up fucking her over HA HA.” I was ready to go out with my new sense of normalcy and have fun with people I might be, er, to be blunt, more interested in.

BUT the most amazing thing was we stayed friends after the break up, which I had never had before. and even though the first few months of dating helped me feel normal again in a way, it turns out being raped by your meth addict ex leaves deep, painful welts. who could guess. Seeking out other relationships from scratch ended up being exhausting. When do I bring up that I’m not even a year from a meth addict raping me? Date two? I tried with other people, and it wasn’t working. I dropped dating, and focused on friends and work instead. But I missed him some days, and as things around me were starting to feel like they were crumbling again, he was there and around. He came over, smoked weed, taught me MTG, let me make him dinner, took me out to bars, listened to me cry, had gentle sex. Soon we were seeing and talking to each other every day. We spent enough time together that it became clear we were dating again, and this time around it was more enjoyable and more intimate. It felt easier to invest in our relationship the second time around because he already knew the baggage. We started dating and eventually, out of the sake of convenience, moved in together. 

But if it makes you feel any better, anon who is probably not reading this, the state of my relationship is not great atm. It feels like we’re very good friends that share a bed. I always had doubts about this relationship from the beginning, I was never really crazy about Malcolm and was tentative about being exclusive. I rationalized the relationship with thoughts like “you don’t know until you try” and “maybe this love is different love, and it doesn’t feel like previous love because I still need to learn more about love.” I don’t think that’s quite it anymore. But, we live together in an unpredicted pandemic, so I sort of made my bed. Plus, it’s hard to decide to break up with someone who isn’t bad just maybe not good enough. Maybe it’s my fault? some days I wake up and think, “oh well am I really giving him 100%? if I tried harder maybe it would be better.” Maybe it’ll get better? What’s life post pandemic and when is it coming, I can’t know. I’ve been depressed, will I get better? Will it change things? I also adore his parents, they’ve been amazing to me, they inspire me. they’ve opened their hearts to me. losing them weighs heavy. I love Malcom very much, he’s been a good friend and we’ve built a nice little life together that has a lot of parts working. How do you decide what day to hurt someone you love? Idk...I guess I entered this relationship to learn.

The Meth Addict has loomed large in our relationship and casts a long shadow. I’ve talked about it with Malcolm but I’m not sure he fully understands it. almost 3 years since my birthday we hooked up. That’s a long time. It’s as long as the relationship I had with my first love. I can’t predict the full story Malcolm and I will have, but I can see a potential break up looming closer. I struggle with it every day. Some nights, like tonight, it’s seems pretty clear cut. If I think this way now it pretty much proves I want to break up, right? But tomorrow morning he’ll make me tea and we’ll talk about our weekend plans and I’ll think “oh this is so nice, what was I even thinking about last night? I’m getting in my own head.” So I don’t know! I think about women a lot. I think about how I talk frankly about my bisexuality on tumblr and yet my experiences with men outnumber that with women. I feel like I’m cheating sometimes, like I’ve lead you guys to believe something that’s not real even though I’m not lying. I think about how I never want to cheat on Malcolm but I get crushes and I want to sleep with women and I wonder if I should be a mom and I think about his parents and it gets confusing. I feel guilty about thinking about our convenience because that’s cheating him and cheating me, but sometimes I wake up happy and much happier than I’ve been in 10 years.

So I guess the reason I’m dating a scrote is because I’m complicated and have a bit of a messy life, and I live day to day, and we make micro choices that lead to macro choices and then we make macro choices that lead to micro choices, and I haven’t pulled the trigger on breaking up with him yet. He was part of the healing journey because, well, he was here. In my real life. It turns out the women we follow on tumblr are very very human with lives far more complex that can be summed up in a few posts on tumblr. Maybe ask me in 50 years why I dated Malcolm, I’ll probably have a better idea why. 

[kitty-cat-is-back]

What Am I Doing with My Life? Chapter 1

Pairing: Sero Hanta x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Hello everyone! This is my first fic, so I hope you guys like it! If I’m being honest, I have no idea what this is currently or what this is going to turn into, but this is just a very self indulgent fic, so I’m sorry if this isn’t for you! Definitely my inspiration to even take a crack at writing a fic is @reinawritesbnha, so you should definitely check her out cause her fics are wayyyyy better than whatever you’re gonna read now! Anyways, I’m terrible at writing summaries, so just have a quick read for yourself and see if you like it! Oh, also this is a real world au, so no powers for any of the characters! ANYWAYS, I hope you like it! :)

Warnings: signs of depression, a hint of angst (idk)

BEEP

BEEP

BEEP

With a groan, you rolled over and aimlessly searched for your phone, promptly shutting off your alarm. A sigh escaped your lips as you stared up at the cracked ceiling, already hearing the loud stomping of your upstairs neighbor so early in the morning. You gazed out the window, staring at the luxurious view of the brick wall from the building next to your apartment, anything to prolong starting the day. Once you didn’t think you could hold off any longer on getting ready, so you dragged your body up and out of bed, mosing into the bathroom as you pondered the same question you did everyday: What am I doing with my life?

You didn’t feel like you were sad per se, but you certainly weren’t thrilled about life. Everyday felt like a rut… Wake up, work, eat, sleep, and repeat. You honestly can’t remember that last time you really felt happy. Well… Maybe back then…

You walked into the classroom early groggily, the sun had barely even risen in the sky. The room was mostly empty, spare a boy sitting at his desk, looking much too mischievous this early in the morning. You placed your stuff at your desk and gave yourself a small pep talk in your head. Today was the day you were finally going to do it. With a few more words of your own encouragement, you slowly approached the boy’s desk, gaining a closer look at what he was doing. Curiosity getting the better of you, you pushed your mission aside and started off with some simple small talk.

“What are you doing?” you asked, an eyebrow raised quizzically.

The lanky boy with shaggy black hair and an infectious smile averted his gaze away from his creation to peer up at you. He grinned cheekily before looking back down and pulling more tape from the dispenser to add to the mass he had already formed, “Making a tape ball.”

You tilted your head in confusion before hesitantly asking, “...A tape ball? What for?”

He shrugged, “Dunno yet… Probably gonna throw it at Kaminari during 4th period. We’ll see how I’m feeling,” he stated, wrapping more and more tape around the sticky monstrosity.

You hummed in response, attempting to hide your smile at his antics, even though his attention was solely placed on creating the tape ball. A silence fell over the two of you as you continued to watch him, rocking back and forth on your feet nervously. Just spit it out already! This was your chance! You ceased your rocking and promptly cleared your throat, “Hanta!”

The boy’s brows shot up at the exclamation and turned away from his abomination, giving you his full attention. He just now noticed the makeup adorning your face, something he’s positive he’s never seen you wear before, but can recognize the effort you put into it. His cheeks flushed at his prolonged staring at your beauty and finally stammered out, “Y-Yes?”

This was it. You balled up your fists and tensed up, almost as if preparing for impact, “A-Are… Are you… Are you busy… this weekend…?” you asked, unsure of the words.

Hanta relaxed a bit, though still a bit on edge as to why you were acting so awkward all of a sudden, “Oh, that’s it? No, I’m not particularly busy,” he pondered aloud, “Probably just gonna hang with the squad… Hey, you can join us if you want to! I’ve been dying to properly introduce you to them! I mean, they all know you from around school, but they don’t like… know you know you, y’know?”

You visibly deflated, your mind racing to figure out how to remedy this problem, “I told you… I don’t think your friends would like me. I’m so awkward around new people, I would probably just embarrass you… B-But that wasn’t what I meant!” you paused and took a breath, mentally preparing yourself, “I was trying to ask if you wanted to go on a da-”

Your words were cut off by your friend walking into the classroom. They spotted you and quickly made their way over towards you, “There you are! We’ve been looking everywhere for you! C’mon, we’re gonna go chill in the cafeteria before classes start!” your friend said as they tugged on your arm.

Your mind went into panic mode, glancing frantically between your friend and Hanta, “N-No… Wait! I was just-”

You were cut off once again, “Just finished talking? Great!” your friend said, pulling harder on your arm, “Bye Hanta! I’m sure you guys can catch up later!” they said before successfully pulling you out of the room, leaving behind a confused Hanta.

Once having exited the classroom, your friend let out a disgusted scoff, “How many times do we have to tell you? No. Hanging. With. Hanta. It’s really that simple. That whole friend group of his is no good!”

Your shoulders slumped and your face fell into a frown, “There’s nothing wrong with Hanta… Just because Mina ghosted you after a hookup doesn’t mean the whole group is-”

“Oh. My. GOD. I told you not to ring up the ‘incident’ again! You know it makes me upset!” they said with a huff. They shook it off, “Whatever, but that doesn’t matter! I won’t have my best friend hanging out with those losers and then ultimately getting your heart broken when they don’t want you anymore! So you either listen to me and stop hanging around that guy or we’re not friends anymore.”

This felt like one of those moments in your life where the decision you make would drastically alter your life. You had a choice of two paths and whatever you chose, you couldn’t go back and try again. You stayed silent as you weighed out your options.

“Hellooo?? I’m waiting!”

“Hello? Are you even listening to me?!”

“Hello?”

“Hello? Are you ok?”

You snapped out of your reminiscing and looked up to see your office assistant giving you a concerned look. You started rapidly blinking in confusion, wondering how in the world your body had managed to take you all the way to work without dying while you were caught up in a daydream. You let out a heavy breath and leaned back in your chair, “Yea…” you started, “Yea, I’m fine. I just… didn’t get much sleep last night is all…” you said with a little bit of conviction.

Your office assistant nodded, definitely not convinced, “Right… Anyways, I guess now seems like a good time to bring this up. Your twelve o’clock appointment called and cancelled. That was the only patient you had scheduled, so I think you should take this opportunity and take the day off. In the year that you’ve been working here, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you take time off for yourself. You may not think it, but even psychologists need mental health days,” they joked, trying to lighten up the somber atmosphere of your office.

You rubbed the back of your neck, desperately racking your brain to come up with a reason to stay at work. If you were working, you weren’t thinking and if you weren’t thinking, you were better off that way. You opened your mouth to start spilling out excuses, “Well…”

“I’m gonna stop you right there. I know every single thing you’re about to say and I’m not having it today. I’ll stay and do some work around the office and answer phone calls if needed. You may be my boss, but I’m ordering you to take the day off. You deserve it. You need it.”

You sighed and hung your head. There was no getting out of this. You held your hands up in defeat, “Alright, alright, I give. I’ll take the day off. You win…” you grumbled. After a victorious cheer from your assistant, you packed up your stuff and headed out of the office. Now that you were alone again, you were left with nothing but your own thoughts.

Maybe your assistant was right about this whole day off thing. I mean, remembering back on your high school days? If you’re starting to believe that you peaked mid-way through high school, you must be going crazy. But… You felt like you were kind of right about one decision drastically changing your life. One choice led you down a path that you couldn’t escape and were forced to keep walking down, no matter how many times you wanted to walk back and find your way again. Maybe you wouldn’t be here if you had chosen a different path, or maybe nothing would’ve changed at all. It doesn’t make sense to wonder about it now. The choice was made and nothing can be undone.

Getting lost in your thoughts again, your body still magically transporting you from one place to the next, you missed out on the man chasing you through the bustling streets of the city, calling out your name like a madman. He pushed through the crowds of people walking in the opposite direction of him, mumbling out apologies every few seconds. He finally managed to make his way to you and grabbed your wrist to gain your attention,

“(Y/N)!”

You snapped out of your thoughts for the second time that day and whipped around to see the boy you knew long ago, but he had turned into a man. Your eyes became wide as your jaw dropped in disbelief, somehow managing to stutter out,

“H-Hanta!?”

[fuckingthefictional]

Cross my heart- Part 18

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OFC, John Shelby (platonic) x OFC

Warnings: mention of sexual assault, vomiting, injuries, not proofread, swearing, idk.

A/N: This chapter is way overdue- either way enjoy it. Would appreciate some feedback too!

Previous//Next

“Fuck this.” Eliza groaned, “I hate being sick.”

It really wasn’t how she planned her morning to go- bent over on her knees, cheek pressed up against the toilet bowl and acidic bile crawling up her throat.

“I hate this.” She spoke again. It was true she hated being sick- it reminded her of too many negative experiences.

Sickness reminded her of two main things. How ill her mother was in the weeks leading up to her death. And the amount of weakness that Eliza remembered feeling when she was injured and sick in the rehabilitation house.

She gagged as more vomit splashed into the toilet, “Did I mention that I-“

“Hate this?” John butted in, “Yeah only 5000 times.”

Eliza could tell that John was acting different, he had a look in his eyes and an expression on his face that showed he was thinking deeply (Something that they always joked about not happening that often.)

But before she could ask about what was on his mind, she promptly lurched over the toilet bowl and emptied the rest of the contents in her stomach into the loo.

She felt John holding her hair away from her face, and rubbing her back soothingly.

Eliza, although thankful for her friends actions, wished more than anything that it could have been Tommy that stood in John’s spot.

But Tommy had gone to the races with Grace, Arthur and a few of the other Peaky boys.

She wouldn’t lie, but the sight of Tommy leaving her room that morning to go and pick up Grace made her stomach lurch with jealousy.

No matter how many times the notorious gang leader reassured her that he was still “seeing her” strictly for business purposes only.

But Eliza couldn’t help but feel doubt, she knew Grace was a pretty girl- some days she felt as if she wasn’t enough compared to the blonde.

Her jealousy and self doubt was eating her up inside- and it really didn’t help with her nausea.

“Liza?” John’s voice was small. Something that was completely out of character for him to be.

Eliza was used to John being boisterous, loud and cocky.

But rarely did she see him be small or nervous or even particularly remotely serious. Not unless there was something wrong.

“Something wrong- you’re never like this.” Eliza croaked.

John visibly gulped and took a deep breath, “Liza you’ve been ill for almost 2 weeks.” He lingered slightly, “that’s not normal.”

Eliza frowned slightly under his gaze, “I probably have the flu,” she laughed nervously, “It’s not a big deal.”

He just sighed again, “Liza I’m known as the dumb Shelby- and even I know you don’t have the flu.”

Eliza rolled her eyes, “Well I’d like to see you come up with a better diagnoses.”

“No Eliza you don’t understand!” He looked as if he was getting frustrated, “I’ve had a wife and 4 kids yea’?”

She nodded, “Right- and...?”

John ran a hand through his hair, “and that means I’m familiar with what morning sickness looks like.”

“What the hell are you implying!” Eliza stood up from her place on the floor. The world spun for a second but she soon felt her feet plant firmly on the bathroom floor.

“Look all ‘m sayin’ is that there’s a rather big fuckin’ chance that you’re pregnant.”

Eliza didn’t reply, her brain was too busy trying to even process the possibility of her being with child.

The thought made her feel dizzy and sick, everything started to become fuzzy and it felt as if her body was shutting down.

The last thing she remembered was John’s worried face before she felt her body hit the floor and pain spike in her head. And everything fazed into darkness.

//

At first the plan went smoothly, Tommy had snuck himself and Grace into the races and had not been caught or removed from the premises.

He had started to do business with Kimber’s associate as Grace twirled around with the ‘King’ himself.

Tommy knew that Grace wasn’t happy with the fact that he had practically sold her off to another man in order to do business.

But the world was cruel and so was Tommy, he knew that he was damn well going to pave his way through that world until he became successful- even if that meant breaking a few spies’ hearts along the way.

“Oi Shelby!” Kimber’s nasally voice infiltrated his thoughts. Tommy looked up to see Kimber stood next to Grace, and arm wrapped tightly around her waist.

Grace looked uncomfortable, but Tommy didn’t care- she was the one that was planning on destroying his family.

She practically did this to herself, she took this opportunity and he was in no way liable for whatever happened to the girl.

That was his thought pattern anyway- head over heart.

“I’ll cut you a deal, as long as you throw in your pretty little side piece for an hour or two.” Kimber’s hand was held out in front of him, ready to make a deal.

Tommy knew what he was doing, so he shook the mans hand. Game on.

//

It had only been an hour, Tommy had Kimber’s wife in the back of his car.

Apparently Kimber assumed they were swapping the women ‘round so Tommy got some fun out of it too.

Tommy hadn’t touched the women, he half-heartedly listened as she waffled on about her hat and her life before she’d met Kimber.

But his own thoughts consumed his mind, he felt a dull ache in his chest. He felt guilty. His heart was getting the best of him.

He had just set Grace up in the same position that Eliza had been in weeks prior.

Tommy didn’t like Grace, in fact he quite frankly despised her, but he knew the damage it did to Eliza- she’d be so disappointed and betrayed by his actions.

He didn’t want to lose Eliza and if that meant saving Grace then so be it. He couldn’t lose Eliza. He refused.

“Fuck.”

//

“Miss Fenton?”

The voice was unfamiliar and sounded disembodied. Eliza couldn’t find any recollection of the voice or it’s owner.

“Miss Fenton?”

Whoever it was spoke again.

She desperately wanted to open her eyes, but her lids were heavy and felt like they weighed a tonne.

The antiseptic smell made Eliza want to vomit, it made her heart tremble as memories began to flash around her mind. They were fuzzy and her head couldn’t remember them properly. But it made her feel ill.

Eliza felt her body lurch as vomit crawled up her throat. Her eyes snapped open as she struggled to contain herself.

She could feel someone rubbing her back and holding her hair away from her face, when she’d looked over to see who it was- Eliza found herself in shock.

“John?” She squeaked, her voice still hoarse, “You came back, y-you made it home!” Eliza’s eyes pricked with tears.

John looked absolutely heartbroken, he glanced over at who Eliza assumed was a doctor.

“Did the war end?” Eliza was so confused, her surroundings weren’t like the ones in France. It was cleaner and from the window she could see the old Brummie streets that she was familiar with.

“What happened?” John asked the doctor, “What the hell is wrong with her?” It sounded as if his voice was on the verge of breaking.

The doctor cleared his throat, “It appears that during the fall she may have hit her head- it could have caused a form of amnesia.” He looked guiltily at the girl in the bed.

“And...” John silently questioned.

“She’s still pregnant- she landed on her back, the impact wasn’t enough for her to miscarry.”

“What?” Eliza frantically sat up, “What do you mean pregnant- I’m not pregnant! I haven’t slept with anyone since I was shipped off to France!”

The doctor left the room, leaving John and Eliza alone.

Eliza was a sobbing mess- how could she possibly be pregnant?

“John tell me that he’s joking- I’m not pregnant?”

He sighed and held his head in his hands, “Liza- you...” John paused trying to choose the best words to proceed with, “You had an accident this morning- you were sick and fainted. You hit your head on the corner of the bathroom counter- the doctor said you might have some form of memory loss.”

“But I- I.” Eliza was rendered silent.

“Eliza...It’s 1919- nearly 20.” John broke the news, “the war’s been over for nearly two years- we’re back in Small Heath.”

She felt as if she was going insane- Eliza didn’t want to believe that she’d lost her memory.

She felt fine for the most part. Well, aside for the fact that she’d just found out she was pregnant and couldn’t remember who it was with.

Eliza took a shallow breath, “John...tell me honestly- am I pregnant?”

“Yea’, yea’ you are.” John looked at her straight in the eyes, “The doctors confirmed this mornin’ that you were.”

The young woman, couldn’t believe it. That there was a life growing within her. A human- her baby.

Her hand subconsciously slid to her midsection, and to Eliza’s surprise she found a tiny bump. It made tears fall at an even quicker rate.

The moment was interrupted, when the door was shoved open and in walked a tall, dark haired man. He was handsome, and had a dark suit on.

He look familiar-but Eliza couldn’t place her finger on where she knew him from.

“Tom- You can’t be in ‘ere...not right now.” Eliza’s friend attempted to push him out of the room.

But ‘Tom’ pushed back, he seemed determined to stay in the room for some odd reason.

“Tommy,” John gritted, “She won’t remember you- she’s lost half ‘er fuckin’ memories.”

Eliza didn’t know what to say- it was true. She didn’t remember or know him, his eyes felt familiar and they made her feel safe. But why? She didn’t know.

Tommy just looked numb- his mouth gaped and his eyes full of pain. He turned on his heel and left.

Why did the world want to shoot them down time and time again? Why couldn’t he just have one simple thing that made him happy? Was he that much of a fuck up?

The world was cruel, and he might’ve lost the one thing that he loved most- and he never even got to tell her.

He was in love.

CMH Taglist: @peachy-aisha @eternallyvenus @marvelschriss @annabethgranger123 @captivatedbycillianmurphy @shadow-of-wonder @affection-rabbit @itzmegaaaaaaan @tscamander

[klaus-is-the-real-number-1]

This Is How It Feels (number five x reader)

A/N: i made it into a fic,, like a highschool au,, hope you enjoy like,, idk, u know them typical fics where its like ‘i dare you to graft them’ or ‘pretend to date’ and then then end up liking each other or,, i dunno. I got pure carried away sorry.(ok so i made some names up for people so, your best friend is: Beth and Beths older brother is: Dante) i havent proof read sorry :(

spazclaiire said: hii could i request headcanons or a fix of excuses five has used to hold your hand or ‘four times five had an excuse to hold your hand and the one time he went for it’ please? thank youu

words:3350

Books weighed down your arms as they spilled over the threshold of your carrying limits, they were heavy, a mix of ring binders and oversized textbooks were making you sway like a drunk man. People barging past in steady streams didn’t help your balancing act either, stumbling every few seconds hoping that the library got closer quicker. 

Swinging open the door to the library your eyes scan the room for the table you and your friends usually sit at and by ‘usually’ you actually mean every single break you get, whether its just for 5 minuets or the full hour you get for lunch or free periods. The table in question even had all your names written on the underside along with other random scribblings and doodles. You make eye contact with a few people on your table as you get closer.

“Y/n, I’ve got some tea to spill, and it involves you!” Beth excitably suggests. Beth always had some new tea to spill, she was a see all hear all person, it also helped that her older brother was in the year above and in the group of the schools self proclaimed ‘bad boys’. She always knows what they’re planning, the who, what, why and where, she had it down to a T.

Speaking of ‘T’, any tea involving you wasn’t good, there had been drama circulating about you before and it took long enough for that to die down. You sigh, hoping it’s got nothing to do with the group of ‘bad boys’. “Go on then, spill.”

“Five Hargreeves has his eyes on you.” Of course, Five was the year above and one of the smartest students in the entire school. The only reason he even knew who you were is because his best friend is Beth’s brother and you were in his AP physics. He was also classed as the fittest boy in school with the worst reputation yet the cleanest slate. 

“For god’s sake, why?” The last thing you wanted was for Five to actually care about who you were, he was a heart breaker, something that you just didn’t need.

“I’m not too sure, I haven’t heard much about the plan, but there is a plan so just be cautious. He’s probably after you because you’re fit.” You smile at her words. “Are you in the art building for lunch again?” You just nod in response.

You had been spending an increasing amount of time in the art buildings, it was just a soft and aesthetically pleasing environment to be in and it meant you’d actually get your work done. You could sit and draw for hours but with how hectic life was the art buildings was a safe getaway. So at lunchtime that’s where you found yourself, aimlessly painting the view out of the window, fields and trees and streams filled the canvas. You were in your own world, minding your own business. 

“Your painting is really pretty, but not as pretty as you.” There it was, not only half a day after being warned about Five Hargreeves he was already trying to chat you up. He was leant against a wall behind you, scanning your figure and the painting. “And I was here thinking you were just a brain and a pretty face.” It was a pitiful, low effort attempt and a half-arsed compliment.

“What do you want, Hargreeves?” It may of sounded harsh but you didn’t want to deal with his bad attempts at flirting.

“Harsh much,” He jokingly placed a hand over his heart. “Listen I need a favour, all you have to do is walk out of this building holding my hand and pretend to date me for about 2 days maybe.” A shockingly fake smile spread across his face as he held his hand out.

“So let me guess,” You tapped your finger on your chin, mockingly thinking. “I’ll pretend to date you, you’ll win some sort of bet and then the best part is when you tell everyone we shagged then you dumped me right after!” You returned his bittersweet fake smile. “I’m going to have to pass Hargreeves, I’d rather not be apart of one of your silly little games.” 

With a tut, he turned around to leave the block not before having the last word. “You’ll fall in love with me eventually y/n, they always do.” You could help but to scoff as he walked out of the room, he was too cocky, all the years he always had any girl he ever wanted to drop at his feet but not you.

Time ticked away slowly until it came to AP Physics, it was a brutal way to end the day often ending with being completely worn out. You were concentrating on rearranging the equations that needed to be used, it was going well until a piece of scrunched paper landed where you were writing. You simply brush it to the side and continue with your work, you had a faint idea who it was from seen as Five sat on the opposite side of your table of 4, ideal, you know.

“y/n.”  His foot playfully tapped yours, causing you to roll your eyes. “Open it.” 

So you did, only to be met with the more than classy words ‘my offer still stands ;)’ You couldn’t believe it, looking him in the eyes you pretended to ponder his decision, swiftly followed by tearing the note up and sliding it back over to him. Fives mouth hung open, you smugly go back to what you were working on. 

Five was relatively quite for the rest of the class, resulting in it going much quicker than it normally would. He would sometimes answer questions but other than that there was no more chew from Five. In a blink of an eye it was time to go home to rest and recuperate from a long day of lessons, to prepare for the exact same the next day, the same as you do every day.

Five paced around his room, he hadn’t lost a bet yet and he wasn’t going to start losing them now. It was a simple bet, make y/n fall for him. Five didn’t particularly want to follow through with this bet, it wasn’t fair on y/n seen as she hadn’t done anything wrong to Five. Dante had only made Five do the bet as he knew Five used to have a slight thing for y/n, it was almost comedically convenient that Dante’s younger sister was best friends with y/n, Dante couldn’t help himself whenever y/n was around his house with Beth to make a comment about it. But despite all this, he couldn’t lose the bet.

The next day, Five had a plan, he knew that in AP Physics the teacher was about to set a new project to be completed in pairs, so naturally he went straight to the teacher. “Sir, for that paired project I really think I should work with y/n, we’d work so well together.” He practically begged his teacher.

“I’ll think about it Five, but if I do place you together, please make an effort to improve your behaviour. It’s your last year and you have such great potential, don’t waste it.” The spiel was met by a roll of Fives eyes followed by a muttered ‘sure’. Five regularly got this talk all the time, everyone says that he needs to focus his academic knowledge into something, anything, but he’s just not motivated by anything. Everything had either been invented or is being invented so there was just no point in trying.

The weekend drew closer with every ticking minuet, teasing you with every small movement of the hands, counting down like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. You were sat in your last lesson, AP Physics, took your seat and took out your supplies. You lazily observed as the rest of your class walked in, you gave and received a few smiles to and from various classmates until last person the last person in, Five Hargreeves, he waltzed into the room with confidence oozing from him. 

Before Five had a chance to speak the teacher was already up and writing the title on the board ‘electromagnetism’. As soon as the words appeared on the board a collective groan of despair was heard throughout the room. 

“So,” The teacher started, clearly enjoying the sudden drop in mood. “I know how much you all love electromagnetism, so what were going to do is work in pairs to create a powerpoint and a poster covering all the aspects of electromagnetism!” The room livened up a bit at the prospect of working with a friend, that was until the teacher continued. “I have put you in pairs, so listen in as I call the pairs out and then move next to your new physics partner.”

People moved about the room to sit next to their project partner, you listened closely to hear who you’d be partnered with this time. “Y/n?” “Sir.” “You’re with Five Hargreeves.” You see Fives face light up as he slides his books across the desk the the seat next to yours, the smug grin never leaving his face once. 

You begin to write down what you had to do for the presentation, feeling Fives eyes stare into the side of your head. “So over the weekend can you do as much research on magnetic flux, flux density and field strength and I’ll cover BH curves and permeability, does that sound good?”  

“Why don’t we just meet up over the weekend and make a start together?” He nudged your elbow, your pen run up your page, ruining the word you were writing.

“Can’t. I’m working all weekend.” Which was met with a small ‘o’ from Five, he turns way and messily scribbles on a sheet of paper and then slides it back over to you. 

“Well if you can’t meet up this weekend then at least have my number.” You slightly smile and fold the piece of paper up and slip it into your notebook. Before Five could slip in another word the bell rang, signalling the end of the day. You say your goodbyes and begin the walk home, it was a fairly long walk home maybe reaching around 30 minuets but it was always a pretty sight to walk through the woods during the spring, pink petals from the cherry blossoms littered the ground, colouring the dull world waking up from winter.

Once home you stared at the crumpled paper with Fives number on it, also noticing the smaller scribbled snapchat username. It felt like a smarter decision just to add him on snap for now but save his number in your contacts, just in case. As soon as you added him he accepted within a matter of seconds, followed by a picture message ‘hey x’ it read. You simply send a picture back of your blank wall and place your phone down, you let a small laugh as your phone buzzes again. 

Sitting at your desk, you pulled out your books and your laptop to make a start on the physics work. You just couldn’t help but check what Five had responded, clicking his name you were met with his face in a pout. You respond with a picture of you sticking your tongue out, which got a response quickly. This stream of photos carried on until the early hours of the morning not even realising the time and that in a mere 6 hours you had to go to work, you send ‘night’ to Five and place your phone on the side, a small smile on your face as you drifted to sleep.

Five laid awake, considering calling the bet off all together. Hours of talking to y/n only felt like minuets, Five wanted to get to know y/n on his own terms not on the terms of a bet. He shouldn’t of accepted the bet to begin with, his competitiveness got the best of him. 

The weekend went far to quickly for your liking, mixed with work and school work. Five was also non-stop messaging you throughout the weekend, he found a way to talk to you about everything and anything, often sending long video messages of him walking round his giant house, you could always hear the shouts of his siblings in the background.

Monday nights were the one night of the week that you enjoyed, Monday was movie night at Beth’s house. The night usually went that straight after school you’d take over the living room, bringing out the blankets and extra pillows, you would both then decide what films to watch and what food to get. Once that was all done you’d both bunker down and start the movies, getting ready for a long night.

About halfway through the first movie Five and Dante slowly made their way into the main room, stealing some of your pizza before sitting down on the sofa to join you. Five took a seat next to you while Dante sat on an armchair, Five pulled your blanket so it was covering both of you, leaning back into the sofa you could feel physically how close he was to you and it was driving you mad.

Beth caught your eyes and wiggled her eyebrows, you responded by sending a cheeky wink with a joking smile. As the night moved on and the movies continued, you and Five slowly moved closer throughout the movie marathon, it couldn’t of been helped, you were both like two magnets. 

The final scene in The Breakfast Club was playing, both Beth and Dante had already fallen asleep, you felt Fives hand touch the side of yours. You slightly push your hand back against his, welcoming the warmth as his touch, your reaction invited him to link his fingers with yours. Light from the TV bounced off the features of his face, defining his angled lines of his face, you couldn’t deny that he was handsome, very handsome. 

The screen of the TV turned dark as you used the remote to switch it off, a dim glow of the moon shone through the open windows, the moment was romantic, overly romantic but it was the sleepiness making you ignore the voice that was screaming that he didn’t mean it, he had an end game and you couldn’t forget that. 

You pulled your hand from Five and lean over to Beth and lightly shake her shoulders. “Beth, its 20 past 1, I think it’s time to go to bed.” She responds by making some unclear noises and began to sit up, you smile and stand up pulling her with you. You spare a glance back at Five before continuing upstairs, unable to stop the tingling feeling in your hand.

Eventually, you had to meet up with Five to work on the physics project, you both hadn’t spoken since Monday night. Well not exactly, Five had been messaging you a lot but you just hadn’t been responding because all you could think about was if he had a possible end game. You didn’t want to get played by Five.

You heard soft steps getting closer, you look up to meet Fives eyes. “Hey.” He spoke in a soft voice in the quiet library. He pulled a chair out from besides you and sat down, pulling his textbooks out of his bag. You both made small talk during your work, it was a nice atmosphere in the library, a nice atmosphere between you and Five with no looming pressure after what happened Monday night.

A breeze drifted through the large room, causing you to break out in goosebumps and shiver. You decided that morning that you could just wear a T-shirt with no jacket as the sun was out, how wrong you were when dark clouds swarmed over. 

“Do you want to borrow my hoodie?” Five asked, but he was already taking it off to give to you.

“Oh no Five it’s okay, it’s my own fault I forgot my jacket. Anyways what would you wear?” Despite how cold you were you really didn’t want to borrow Fives hoodie, he would be just as cold as you were.

“No please y/n, take it. I’ve got an extra jacket in my locker anyways.” He pushed his hoodie into your hands. You could tell he was probably lying about it but you sheepishly took his hoodie and put it on, it was warm and you couldn’t help but smile a little bit. 

You mutter your thanks, a warm flush coming over your face as you continue to work on your project until your next lesson. Once the bell rang, you both left to opposite directions, you completely forgot that you had Fives hoodie on until you sat next to Beth in english to be passed a scrap piece of paper with scribbled writing ‘That’s not your hoodie???’ you smile at the sheet and just write back ‘Five’s’ 

You didn’t see Five for the rest of the day until you got a message during the last lesson. ‘meet me near math class at the end of the day x’ It wasn’t a question, he was telling you. You send an ‘ok’ and continue with your lesson, constantly distracted by the ticking arms of the clock, counting down it’s last minuets.

As the clock strikes 3 you make your way to the math department, you were fighting against the tide as everyone rushed to get out of school. As the crowed begun to thin you saw Five standing outside the maths classroom, standing hoodie-less. He made his way towards you, smile present on his face.

“Where’s this jacket that was meant to be in your locker?” He just laughs and shrugs his shoulders.

“I mean my hoodie looks better on you than it did on me so I don’t mind.” You smile at him and begin your decent through the school. “So I was thinking we could just like, go for a walk? It’s just nice spending time with you.”

You both aimlessly wandered around town until finding a small cafe to reside in when the weather started to turn, Five had a black coffee and you had a hot chocolate. The room was filled with noise from others in the cafe and also from the outside world that couldn’t reach you in your own little world.

“Five, not to sound daft or anything but are you still trying to do this for the bet or are you being genuine?” You didn’t want to sound harsh but you were still unsure if this was genuine or just an oscar winning act.

“y/n,” He reached over and took your hand. “I called the bet off just before Monday night, as soon as I came to the school and saw you I knew straight away I wanted to be with you.” He ran his thumb gently over your knuckles. “I know you wont trust me right away but I want to make you trust me, I want you to feel the same way about me as I do for you.”

“Okay.”

All it took was that one word to kickstart your time with Five. It started small, handholding any chance he got, he seemed to always need to be close, holding and hugging you. He was so affectionate and almost touched starved, begging like a stray puppy. Five slowly gained your trust and love for him, he had an infinite amount of hoodies and oversized T-shirts, truth be told you were pretty sure Five just loved to see you in his clothes.

You and Five were cuddled up on your bed, he was running his fingers through your hair as light cut through the curtains, lighting the room in a heavenly glow. Five placed a kiss on the side on your head, pulling you closer as he did. 

“Y/n, I think I’m in love with you.” You smile and lean into his embrace.

“I think I’m in love with you too, Five.”

[swishandflickwit]

Shirbert — to live would be an awfully big adventure 1/1

Summary: Gilbert gives Anne her troth necklace.

(shirbert + neck kisses)

Words: 2.1k

Rating: General Audiences

AN: I just finished Anne of Windy Poplars and idk if I just missed it but I honestly don't remember how Anne got her pearl necklace??? It was like I was reading and poof! It was there! And my overactive ass started to think about where Gilbert could have gotten it and how and thus, this was born :)

Special thank you to the beta babes: @acourtoftruelove, @tiredsosleeping and @ofshipsandswans!! Your input is invaluable as always!!!

Also on ff.net | AO3

Other writing

He doesn’t mean to buy it.

No, really.

He. does. not.

And even if he does, they certainly aren’t for her.

(This is what he tells himself, laying on his hammock in the bowels of the ship, surrounded by pitch black and clutching at them like they were the very last source of light in the world)

No—he buys them because he can, and because the peddler’s heart radiates a kindness and a benevolence that resonates to Gilbert’s own soul and so he knows, with indisputable certainty, he deserves not to be separated from those he loves most.

There are, what seems like, hundreds of stalls littered all over Trinidad. The docks alone boasts of a market filled with a ragtag combination of goods, of differing shapes and sizes, catering to all sorts of distinctive ailments and demands. Not that Gilbert needs anything… which is why he doesn’t know what draws him to the ramshackle pile arrayed into a sorry excuse for a booth.

Or maybe he does.

He doesn’t have an eye for jewelry, at least he doesn’t think so, for his mother’s own baubles had been sold off—to provide for his father’s health care and sustain the farm—save for a few key pieces and heirlooms, but there is no denying the pulchritude of this merchant's wares. He and Bash were headed for the ship when a glint from his peripheral caught his eye, so bright was its glare. Like a moth to a flame, he gravitates towards its light, bypassing the droves of attractive vendibles for the multitudes of spherical orbs strung together in artful strands.

“You have.”

A weathered hand enters his line of vision as it presents the precious goods with a proud flourish and he follows the length of the muscled arm to the person attached to it. His olive skin gleams gold, telling of many a days spent working under the sun. His eyes are angular, his nose flat and his lips full and wide, as if always poised to smile. It prompts Gilbert to twist his own mouth into a grin, and the two smirk in delighted conspiracy though they have never seen the other before this very moment.

“You have,” the jeweler remarks again, this time tugging at his sleeve lightly. Gilbert laughs, not because what he says is particularly funny but because of how he says it, not so much phrased as a question or suggestion yet not a command or a rude edict either. Instead he hears a statement, a finality within those two words, spoken as they are in knowing yet gentle tones. As if Gilbert was always meant to land in this deserted and decrepit corner of the port—his eyes destined to feast upon the rows and rows of effulgent pearls laid before him like a banquet to feed his starving gaze.

“I didn’t know we harvested pearls in Trinidad,” Bash remarks, a wonderment to his inflection that informs Gilbert his friend is just as captivated as he. The jeweler shakes his head.

“No—no Trinidad,” he pauses, the two men leaning forward in anticipation. The jeweler smiles, a flair for dramatics evident in his every gesture as he tilts his head, takes a deep breath and reveals, “Las islas Filipinas.”

“Las islas Filipinas,” Gilbert repeats, as though harkening the words back to him would stunt his ever growing curiosity. “Where is that?” he asks, almost aggressively, that same curiosity puppeteering his movements. The jeweler’s grin only widens as he delights in Gilbert’s inquisitiveness.

“East,” the jeweler says and in his own vigorous eagerness, Bash adds, “East? Asia?”

He nods, a whole new light entering his eyes at the recognition of his homeland. “Sí, sí! My home—Perlas,” he points at the rows and rows of pearls, “ng Silanganan.”

Gilbert shakes his head as dejection weighs heavy on his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I don’t speak…”

“Tagalog,” provides the jeweler. “It is all right,” he reassures, “I speak, little English. Little Spanish. We understand each other, sí?”

The smile never once wavers from his lips and Gilbert feels something in him lift. He cannot pinpoint what that something is exactly, only that he senses a bond between him and this jeweler that he finds difficulty putting into words. Still, it isn’t an unwelcome sensation. If anything, it puts him at ease.

“I’m Gilbert,” he says and with a nod to his companion, he introduces him. “This is Bash. What’s your name?” He holds out his hand.

The jeweler tilts his head at the proffered limb as though seeing it for the first time, confusion clouding his gaze. “My name?”

All of a sudden, the cloud in his eyes transforms into a mist, overflowing till they line his face. Gilbert blanches, panic seizing him as apologies spill from his lips. The jeweler stops him by grasping his outstretched palm between his own. “No. No sorry. It has been long, long time since I have told another my name.”

“You were a slave.” There is no question to Sebastian’s hard tone, only harrowing familiarity and resignation as he eyes the jeweler with a newfound affinity. The jeweler’s shoulders sag.

“Still slave.”

“What?”

“That is why I sell perlas. Save enough money to join boat. Go home to my country and fight. Find my beloved. My sinta.”

His name is Alon, he tells them. In his native language, it means waves—“I was born in sea, I work in sea, and I will die in sea.” He hails from one of over 7,000 islands in Filipinas where generations of his family gathered pearls, going out to the ocean where they lived at the first hint of dawn and returning just when the remaining trace of sun was a line of orange ray along the horizon. But the reach of the Colonizers throughout the country grew till their island and eventually, their village, could no longer escape them any more than the rise of the tide. His master took him from his family—a wife and one child, for they had been married only a short time and they could not bear to bring more into a life of servitude—to sell the jewels in Acapulco, Mexico. They arrived but he managed to escape, with the pearls fortunately, and had been trying to make his way back home by selling them bit by bit since.

“For you,” Alon points to Gilbert before handing him a hoop of gleaming, white pearls.

“Oh, I—I don’t,” he stutters. I don’t have anyone waiting for me back home, not like you, is what he means to say though for an inexplicable reason, he cannot bring himself to speak the words out loud—his fingers closing over the necklace even as he thrusts it back to Alon’s direction. He shakes his head.

“For you,” he repeats, his eyes fixed and his tone firm through the elated smile that unendingly shapes his lips. “For your sinta,” he affirms with a hand to his heart. With his free hand, Gilbert slips into his bag to dole out his payment when Alon stops him. It is Gilbert’s turn to insist. He pays double the asking amount.

“I hope you find your way home. I hope you save your country, and you be with your wife.”

Bash, who till then has remained tense and stoic, brings out more than a couple notes himself.

“You deserve to have your life be your own,” Sebastian says as he passes the money to Alon, whose eyes have filled with insurmountable tears once more. “May this bring you closer to freedom, friend.”

Alon leaves his place behind the rickety stall to hug them both.

“Maraming salamat,” he murmurs, droplets coursing down his cheeks to land onto the cloth of their shoulders. “Thank you.”

They pull away, but only at arm’s length from each other.

“I have greeting in my home, mabuhay. It means live, but we say it both hello and goodbye so… mabuhay, good friends.” He kisses both their hands. “Mabuhay.”

Gilbert closes his eyes, his entire being awash in peace even as he stands in the middle of one of the busiest places of Trinidad. They may have just met, but it is with stunning clarity that Gilbert finally understands what Anne means when she speaks of meeting a kindred spirit. For what other name could there be for the emotions welling inside him? For the way his soul had reached out to Alon’s from across the market, hidden as his booth was? For the immediate, albeit brief, friendship that sprung between them?

This is what he murmurs onto Anne’s skin, after all these years, once he clasps the circlet of white pearls around her neck.

“What?” she says, turning with a flourish as she tilts her head back with pride, so that he may admire her better.

(And admire he does, planting another kiss onto the hollow of her throat, falling enraptured by the way her breath hitches and their hearts beat in perfect unison—booming, racing, delicious staccatos against their pressed chests)

“Mabuhay,” he reiterates, though no louder than a whisper as he pulls her even closer, this divine enchantress who holds his heart. “I bought this necklace during my travels and the man who sold it to me, it was his parting words. I never forgot them. It means ‘live’.”

“You’ve had this all that time?”

Anne gasps as astonishment brightens her blue eyes at the revelation. It brings forth a chuckle from him.

“It’s funny. I told myself that these pearls weren’t for you. I fancied myself merely helping a friend out. But to see them now… how could I be so foolish?” He traces the line of gems, his fingers brushing against her collarbone in lambent strokes. Anne purrs, her eyes fluttering, and Gilbert—unable to help himself—captures her bottom lip between his, sucking at the luscious curve of her mouth before uttering, “they were never meant for anyone but you.”

She blushes, the blooming red staining first her cheeks then her neck. He kisses her there again, harder this time, till he leaves a mark. Anne moans and he feels it to his bones, a shiver pulsing down his spine.

“You make me feel alive, Anne.”

“I think… I think I was drowning, before I met you,” she tells him when his kisses have made their way from the curve of her shoulder to the curve of her cheek. “I think you saved me.”

“Impossible,” he avers, sincerity coating his inflection and burning through his molten, silver gaze. “As much as I want to, you’ve never needed anyone to save you. You’ve always been strong enough to be your own prince.”

She kisses him, for how could she not? Anne has often thought she needed other people to save her. It isn’t till Gilbert that she figures, it was within her to save herself.

“Maybe so,” she concedes. “But I was lost,” she tucks a stray curl behind his ear, her thumb caressing his cheek as she goes. “I was lost until you.”

For three years they will be engaged albeit living in separate places, Anne to her principalship in Summerside and Gilbert to medicine school in Kingsport. But on the long and lonely nights he is away from her, when the din of the boarding house becomes too loud, the presence of the men too suffocating, he will think about those pearls. He will think of Alon, and what he had to endure having even been further away from his sinta than Gilbert ever will be and he will sigh, mabuhay, because he is here and he lives in a world where Anne too is alive and he will hope. He will hope and hope and hope, that his friend and his family are too.

(And even more years later, he will smile and triumph when news arrives on the island, of the independence of Las islas Filipinas from a 300-year tyranny)

He will think about how he was on the other side of the globe and still, upon seeing the jewels, try as he did with all his might to deny it, his first thought was of Anne. He will think about the sheen of it against her delicate neck and how it illuminates her skin. He will think about how it isn’t so much the pearls that shine but Anne herself, her very essence and spirit infusing the air around her with a glow that draws you in.

But for now… now he avows—

“You are the sun, Anne. You are the sun, the moon and the North Star. Should a tempting peregrination strike me in my darkest hours away from you, I will look to the sky and know.”

He cups her face between her hands.

“All the roads lead back to you.”

AN: This one is really close to my heart. I hope you enjoyed it!

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