#maybe early on in their relationship and they each keep letters stored away safe

[spectremarvel]

So I dont know why ive latched onto this idea, but im in love with the thought that clark and bruce have very nice, fancy handwriting. Its endearing. BUT what if also, they end up in a situation where they can write letters back and forth. Old school, disgustingly romantic, very much them (imo) 🥰

[rosyk]

Changed

pairing: yang jeongin (as John) x reader (as Sera)

genre: light academia(at least that’s what it’s supposed to be), light angst, girl in love, romance, fluff, royalty

warnings: mentions of blood and self harm

word count: 5.0k

inspiration: White Flowers- Olivia Rodrigo (unreleased song)

a/n: Yes this is the same inspiration from the past post I had but the story is more directed from the song than the other one. It came out different than I thought it would be(quite disappointing), but I hope you’ll like this one as well! Just some little angsty angst.

White flowers. It was once a symbol of our relationship. I loved how they look so peaceful and pure, exactly like how you described me. They were either standing on my porch, sitting inside the mail in front of my tiny house, or lying under the mat. I loved finding my favorite ones whenever it’s our anniversary or on my birthday and let them inside the drawers for safe keeps. You never failed to place thrill in this us. When did I deserve such a guy?

[3RD PERSON]

“My lady, a letter has been sent” Mr. George called up to the lass as she immediately rushed down the long, grand marble stairs in a fluttering flowy dress.

“My lady, a letter has been sent” Mr. George called up to the lass as she immediately rushed down the long, grand marble stairs in a fluttering flowy dress.

“I’m coming!” she responded and was skipping throughout the whole dash to the point that the lady didn’t even notice her parents with her fellow friends sitting near the courtyard, having some tea.

“Oh dear,” the father massaged his forehead and cried out. In response, the men in the room laughed in the view in front of them. Who’d knew that the respectable man from the authorities would be anguished over a simple matter? Frowns were apparent after the father in despair continued his exclaim. “Just wait until your daughter would find a new kid better than his daddy.” Now, it was time for the ladies to laugh.

“Stop being dramatic, love. Things will always get to this. They’d soon start to be like us and even have new kids!” The wife interrupted, teasing his husband a bit more.

“Let me guess, the mother-daughter bond was closer together?” The damsel who sat directly in front of them started a conversation the man least wanted to hear. It was a rare sight to see so they took the opportunity.

“Be careful, Dieur. Your wife was against men in the past. She must’ve talked bad about you.” The father’s closest friend decided to speak up and join the amusement. Despite the father having a bad mood, the atmosphere lightened up. They continued to chat while staring at the young lady in love from afar.

“Mr. George, is it from him?” The lady in the dress who wasn’t able to sleep well because of excitement asked the butler. As if he knew who she meant all along, he passed on the letter with a sealed stamp.

“It’s better to see it for yourself, my lady. Though there are no other more possibilities to receive a letter from anyone different” the butler smiled as he replied. It was pleasing for him to see Sera finally receiving love from the people outside, and not just the ones in the household.

“Oh thank you so much! You’re the best!” Sera hugged the old butler that was flustered and surprised by her sudden actions. He melted in the embrace of the younger one because he acted like her father who was always there for her when Dieur is busy with court duties.

Sera rushed up back to her room and ignored her mother’s muffled words as she was already far away. Tiny heels were clicking and that served as a reminder to the maids that she had already arrived. Plopping herself in bed, the girl squealed with delight.

Barging in the lady’s room, the housekeepers couldn’t hold themselves back. “So, what did he write this time?” Their eyes shone stars and a few tiny jumps were done. Each one of them bickered and shared their opinions on what he’d say for the grand day.

The girl holding the love letter shushed the rowdy crowd and stood up to do her usual routine. The audience knew what she was doing and sighed in frustration. Of course, it was an important letter for Sera. She had to make sure she read it in a room she’s comfortable in to make the writings unforgettable and imprinted in her mind. Firstly, she pulled the big and red curtains, leaving them untied, to cover up the whole scene and feel the calmness of the room. The ones waiting, hurriedly fixed her letters inside the drawer in order but the lady shot them a glare. They whined in response, but all Sera could do was chuckle. After arranging the love letters collected, she positioned herself on the chair beside the bed and turned on the lampshade. As if she was telling a story, the maids began to encircle her at the moment she started to read it aloud.

“How enchanting! It feels so dreamy!” Vanessa, one of the viewers, clasped her hands together and danced with an imaginary partner, earning herself giggles from everyone in the chamber.

This act reminded another servant and made sure to ask her regarding the grand ball. The maids once again clapped in enthusiasm. If anything, they’re the ones who anticipated the male more than Sera herself. Lily, the youngest maid who was 14, opened up first and visualized how the male would arrive.

Their talk reached hours and honestly, Sera was excited with the discussion although she seemed to turn down the ideas a moment ago.

[NIGHT]

The lady wanted to sleep so she could wake up early as soon but the thoughts were forcing her not to. She reminisced their memories before finally deciding to follow the call of her bed.

They haven’t seen each other for years but it remained vivid in her. She remembered how he’d confess out of the blue, sneaked in her room without her parents knowing so she’d be able to sleep well, calls every night, and made sure she was confident with herself. That’s how ideal this guy is.

[NARRATION]

Sera knew it was morning either because she was woken up by the noises from the crowd gathering or she hasn’t slept well again because of excitement. Fortunately, the guy in front of her didn’t know she was really tired, or else he’d be worried and force her to leave the ball and sleep. Of course, the girl never wanted that to happen because she wanted to spend more time with the perfect figure she’s been dancing with.

“Sera, did you have a good night's sleep?” The girl’s little prince asked. Sera hesitated and gulped as she looked into the man’s face who seemed to be amused with what he’s seeing. Okay, maybe he did know things after all.

“Not to worry, I know you had awaited this ball years ago. I won’t let you leave” The man chuckled in delight and it surely made her flutter. What made it more interesting was the fact that he didn’t know she’d cry over this ball just to see him in her sight. Oh, how the lass loved to be in his embrace once again.

The boy placed his huge arms behind the girl’s back and pulled her closer to him. Resting her head in between his neck and shoulder, as they danced to the lovely melodies of the piano playing “ A dream is a wish your heart makes”.

“John, I kept all your love letters in my drawer” Sera boasted proudly and wore a tiny smirk that made John smile. It took seconds before he could reciprocate what Sera just said. As soon as he got the grasp of it, both of his eyebrows rose.

“But I’ve written those way before I courted you!” He whisper shouted in shock which caused him to grip her hands tighter but not to the point that it hurt. The girl too was influenced by his sudden emotions and looked at him blank, blinking quite a few times.

“Is it bad?” Sera’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. Negative thoughts came up to her; what if he wouldn’t like me or did I do something wrong? She bit her lip and sulked a bit, forming a little pout in her seemingly heart-shaped lips.

“I’ve probably sent 500 of them by now” John’s expression was clear. He was confused, thinking how ridiculous the idea might have been. He sent letters for her to read but not to the point of storing everything when he had done that years ago.

“It’s actually 678” The girl looked down without knowing why. He couldn’t stare at his eyes, wondering whether it’s because of the embarrassment that made her wished to be swallowed up by the ground any moment now or maybe because of her guilt as if she had done something wrong because that’s what John made her feel.

The man decided to shrug the idea off because he realized how the girl felt. This wasn’t their expected first encounter after she had been waiting for months and he thought it was probably just him dramatically overreacting towards a simple matter. He wanted to cheer her up so he gave an unforeseen remark.

“You just love me, don’t you?” Sera managed to look back at him just to see a teasing smile. She giggled softly and pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes as if she was thinking. John groaned playfully with the fake hesitation the lady was showing.

“Do I?” Both of her eyebrows rose in shock and questioned. The lass took her hand off his to brush his shoulder, tidying the non-existent dust in a sassy manner. John broke out a tiny smile before choosing to join in her play.

“Oh I know you do, love” He stated and retrieved her hand in the right place it was destined to be. They began waltzing in a slow tempo as he kissed her hand in between, which left the lass in true shock because of his sudden movements. A grin was evident in the man and so she began to laugh quietly, shaking her head on both sides as a matter of disbelief.

“But I don’t think so” Sera kept teasing as John continued to respond so cheekily. She tiptoed a bit to reach his height as she went closer to her face. Of course, John wouldn’t give up in this encouraging situation.

“You do”

“I do?”

Their faces went closer until Sera tried to cover up her blushing face with her hands. The man wouldn’t let her hand go and so as she tried to stand properly on the ground and lowered herself from tiptoeing, he placed his hand at her back and pulled her closer. The girl flinched quite a bit in his touch, which the guy never failed to not notice. He wore a smug look and rose one of his eyebrows, tilting his head to look straight at her eyes. The lady’s face started to heat further than ever. Thus, she struggled away from the embrace but the more she tried, the little the gap is in between their faces. It was all fun and games until their nose brushes against each other and they could hear breathings.

“I could hear your heartbeat from here” John’s whisper sent chills to the lady all over her body. Because he doesn’t want anyone to hear for the moment, he lowered the volume of his voice causing him to lower the tone unintentionally as well. The best description would be a seductive whisper girls would swoon over. That was how lucky Sera was, she thought.

John looked at her lips and tilted his head, in which she could assume he was going for it. She gulped and just as she was about to close her eyes, loud claps and squeals echoed around the room. Right, they were in the ball and they’ve almost forgotten, she reminded herself. John kissed her forehead that made her cheeks blush, now looking very obvious. Despite that, she still wished her first kiss would be taken away by him.

[NIGHT AFTER THE BALL]

Sera couldn’t get over the ball yet. While she was eating, reading, and in every step she took, she’d always hum the song played in the dance. It was like a magnificent dream to dance with her prince charming. Her father would start to get annoyed as the maids get jokingly jealous of how lovely she looked being so happy. Though it was already 3 in the morning and the lady was waiting for the call. He never missed a night without calling her until she looked up the letter given. The handwriting wasn’t really clear but it was obvious he wrote it quickly. It says he couldn’t be able to talk on the phone tonight as he had lots of things to do. It wasn’t deep and she knew she should’ve been glad he took time writing the letter just to stop her from worrying. But despite the optimism, she forces herself into, she broke down in tears. Cuddling her pillows as she wept is something that isn’t unusual. It’s been months since he was gone and it’s also been months when she started crying herself to sleep. Even a single evening without him would crash her heart and tear herself apart. It’s also been a long time since she thought if he had lost interest in her. A single missed call is enough to harm the lady so pure.

With nails digging, she just watched the blood flow through her glass skin. It was painful but much better than the call she wasn’t able to receive. Isn’t she enough? Insecurities passed by her mind and all she could do was wail silently that only she could hear, with voice cracking out.

[TIMESKIP- AFTERNOON]

“So I’ve thought about your wedding....and” Before continuing to speak, Sera’s mother took a sip from her cup in the same favorite courtyard she’d always be.

“We could plan the wedding, sooner but not now” Sera casually talked as her parents both stared at her in surprise. Her father choked on his tea and continued coughing, while Sera patted his back and asked if something was wrong in what she just said.

“My, my.... is that really you?” Her mother explained in an accent and scoffed. She wondered when her daughter started to act so maturely as if she didn’t just whine and force them to marry the guy she really loved about a year ago. Was this the effect of the man leaving her for months?

“The drama is real”, Sera thought.

“You’ve grown more mature” The father mentioned like it was the biggest miracle he had seen. He was in delight but turned the usual grumpy old man, the moment her wife started to speak.

“It’s the boy’s effect” The wife tapped his husband’s shoulder to hit his ego, though the context seemed to be like a warning. Sera noticed how off it was for her to mention John so to be rest assured, she asked her mother.

“Boy’s effect? You mean John?” She chuckled and pressed her lips together, waving her hands to dismiss the idea and hoped it isn’t as obvious as it seems. The father on the other hand still doesn’t get the hang of it; john and everything that relates to that bloody guy.

“Yes!” The mother joyously raised her tone and turned herself to have her body directly at Sera. This lets her know that her mother is trying to explain something complicated or unseen. “You have changed greatly, don’t you think?” She continued.

The daughter was left confused and had her eyebrows furrowed. “Changed?” She tilted her head in question and took some time to let the information seep into her mind. Though, she remained clueless.

“In the past, you used to talk about your everyday lives to the point that I grew tired from hearing your stories. But your father? He loved them and wanted to hear more of it. But now that you’ve grown, everything we hear from you is about John” Sera’s mother laughed in a low volume. The conversation ticked the father off so he decided to interrupt and share his thoughts.

“John here, john there. You wouldn’t even bother choosing your wedding because you decided to go with what he wants, even though you’re the bride here. You wore clothes that would impress him every day and can’t stand a night wherein he wouldn’t be able to call. Goodness gracious, where did this john come from?” Dieur ranted and lifted his hands in the air for disapproval. Pity the father, as the ladies could only laugh at his speech. He looked at the two in bewilderment and just after he thought of scolding them, his wife spoke.

“We can’t blame love like roses” The mother stood up and was ready to leave due to an appointment. Once again, Sera was perplexed. She felt like everything her mother says went out of the blue. Is it just her guts or feeling? Or maybe it’s indeed the reality she failed to notice? To calm herself down from the sudden panic that came out of nowhere with no further reason, she asked about it. The father answered the question whilst thinking his wife couldn’t hear the daughter’s request.

“Typical roses where love and passion are as deep as its color and signifies that both partners are ready for commitment. It’s commonly used on marriages, just like the one you’re planning” the father scrunched his nose a bit to show how annoyed and cringe he must’ve heard that statement. Dieur can’t stand the topic and so he left first. Her mother didn’t know he was gone but at the same time, she also hoped her words reached her daughter. Thus, before talking to someone and preparing to step into the little and open carriage, she continued. Her daughter heard it quite muffled and unclear, but her wish and intentions came true.

“Not that one, darling”

[TIMESKIP]

It’s been days since Sera heard her mother’s quote but still doesn’t understand the meaning behind it. It would be pointless to keep asking as her mother makes excuses and changes the topic. All she’d heard from her was “trust me, you will regret hearing this”, and with a smile contrasting the words she spoke, she left the house for a business trip with her father.

“My lady, didn’t you want to visit the garden?” Another butler she hadn’t seen before, which she assumed was new, stepped in after knocking. “The carriage is ready” He bowed and was ready to leave until she called her out.

“Is John already here?” The servant was taken aback by the question but was luckily able to respond.

“Not yet, my lady” He replied and observed her lady’s expressions. Thinking it is about the garden, he was left surprised.

“We’ll wait for him” Sera replied with a tiny smile and shifted her position to get ready. He had it coming but not a single thought came up to him that she’ll risk such an opportunity. It was her dream to get into the secret garden her mother had when she was young. She had waited to step into the magical place for years because it amazed her how the flowers planted are changing every 4 years, but now he’s considered John again.

“Milady, what if he couldn’t come as usual?” He asked once again, tone slightly higher than he intended. All the lady could do was stare at him in frustration as if asking if he would dare repeat the question. He didn’t expect the lady to have a frightening aura, so he apologized for digging in further into personal matters.

The lady exhaled and fidgeted her fingers due to the slight guilt and awkward tension she had created. “That man is just..” trying to find the right word for it, she snapped her fingers. As soon as she got ahold of the perfect one, she continued with a change of mood. “Everything I cannot do without” she smiled and ask for him to leave, which he immediately and willingly did.

The butler walked slowly within the halls and was snapped out of his thoughts after hearing a maiden’s voice and a tap on her shoulders, asking him what’s wrong. He said he was fine but was still confused after the words he had heard; because the man being everything the girl can’t do without, seemed like she was lost in love.

[AFTERNOON]

Sera was figuring out everything she had done wrong as she walked back and forth in her locked room. It also had been weeks since the man said he’ll be hers forever. If you’re thinking that was romantic, that isn’t how it is to her. Somehow, it doesn’t feel the same anymore. Thoughts were rambling inside her head and she felt close to breaking down. “He wouldn’t call it off with me right?” the vulnerable lass fell to her knees and covered her face as she tried to fight back the tears. What would she do if he was planning to leave her? She took a rest while tears were still flowing non-stop.

Hours later, she was woken up by knocks on the door and her tears had dried up. Just to make sure, she placed on little makeup where it was light enough to be noticed. Of course, she’d cry without seeing him for the past months so she should know what to do in order to not get caught.

“Come in” she acted as if she was fixing the books on the shelf but was stunned by the figure standing in front of her. She thought he wouldn’t be able to come, but now here he is.

“John!” She went up to him and hugged him immediately. The man in response hesitatingly stroked her hair. The lass noticed the change and asked him what was wrong.

“Are you fine?” The lass widened her eyes in concern and bit her lips. She was scared and thought about what would happen if her nightmare would turn into reality because there is indeed a possibility. “But that can’t be right?” She thought again, trying to change her mindset for a thousandth time today.

John sat down on her bed and sighed, patting the space beside him. Sera walked slowly and tried to hold his hand but he was quick to pull away. And that’s when she knew, it’s finally happening.

“Don’t you think it’s not working out?”

The lady hiccuped and tried to compose herself. Her hands were shaking and no matter how clear the statement John said, she tried searching for other thoughts that make her rest assured just like the usual. Unfortunately, nothing did make her calm down. “What..what do you mean?” She chuckled as a sign to tell the man it isn’t what she thinks it is; though nothing could change something that already did change, as what the man had thought.

“You turned different, Sera” John looked down and felt guilty but all Sera could do was stare in disbelief. She knows herself so why do people think she had changed? For her, it’s a useless excuse everyone had been using. It’s messing with her mind and made her frustrated with how people acted as they knew her in the very beginning.

“Is this a way of defending yourself?” She spoke in annoyance, which caused John to slouch a bit, feeling apologetic but also tired. He had it coming but never did say he was ready for this talk.

“You don’t understand-“ John had his head up to meet Sera in the eyes and explained himself but was immediately cut off which made him get frustrated as well.

“What don’t I understand-“

“Everything!” The tone John showed was a lot harsher than he thought, but he stood unknowingly due to the patience running out. He pulled his hair and his voice started to crack. It was the first time he showed such a painful sight to Sera, which made the lady sob as well. “I loved you. I loved the girl who made me smile but it felt like the girl just remained in the past. You appreciated me but now, you demanded more. Everything you’re doing makes me feel insecure, Sera. Was I never enough?” The man gripped the sheets and felt the pain hit straight into him. He tried to lessen his cries but the feeling was just too much for him to fix. The partner in front of him placed her hand on his face and managed to wipe her tears, despite the continuous flowing of it. It made her tear up because that was the exact thought she had in mind, turned out it backfired against him.

“No... please, you’re perfect. You loved me perfectly.” Sera managed to talk in between the sobs and stutter. John took off her hand from his face and sighed in a shaking manner. He bit his lips to quiet down his cry to the point that it bled a little.

“Then why do you feel like I didn’t love you like any other? Why do you feel like I’m not giving you the attention you need? Why do you feel like I’m tired of you? Why can’t you make decisions without me as if I feel like I’m trapping your freedom? I just noticed it was different after you scolded me because I wasn’t able to call you the night before. You relied on me wholeheartedly but acted as if I never did gave you almost everything I could” John sighed and walked up to the door. Sera was pleading, begging hopelessly for him not to leave her behind, but he took another step outside the door. She regretted it deep and straight from the heart because unknowingly, it made John feel the pain. She made her insecure after all the overthinking she did in the past nights. It felt as if she didn’t trust John at all.

After a few hours of bawling her eyes out, she ran unto the garden expecting white flowers. She barged in the place, knowing it was probably the time they’ve finished growing the flowers she’d wanted to see with him all this time, yet failed to. But looking around the vast field, it was all red roses. “Maybe it isn’t fate,” she thought and reached out to one of the roses. She was lost in the sight of the magnificent flower that felt different among the others, it was tempting not to touch this one. While wiping away her tears, she felt the thorn under instead and hissed in pain. Looking at the blood, she finally understood her mother’s hidden words.

“At first, before stepping inside, the flower looked the same among all the other roses but I enjoyed the view. I noticed a single flower and loved how deep red it was. Except, it was too enticing that I decided to get in contact with it. I felt the thorn and pain but brushed it off since it was a small one. That’s the context my mother was trying to say all along” she thought and finally figured it out but it wasn’t a celebration to call on, indeed she faced regret.

Their love isn’t as pure as a white flower, but as dangerous as red roses. It was captivating that once she’d entered, there is no escape. John started as someone she passed by through. A typical stranger, nothing new and nothing special. But knowing him better, made her smile. She thought at first it was all happiness and cherishing the moments they’ve created with John, but giving all her mind and focus on him, made her feel the pain that she decided to forget because she thought it would pass by at some time. She placed all the hurt aside because she was too distracted with John.

Sera was crazy in love; except it wasn’t sweet anymore. She changed because of the warmth she felt from the guy but can she blame him? No. And the fact that this matter can’t be solved anymore is what wound her the most. No matter how much she tries again to mend herself and start over with John, it wouldn’t be like those silly fairytales. Because if it’s him, she knew her world would stop again for him to continue.

If only someone had told her what she knew now; losing herself in someone isn’t heaven, it’s hell. But if her mother told her what she noticed, it would be enough for Sera to cut off ties with her parents. That’s how head over heels she was. John was at first her happy pill, which became her dose of medication. It felt like a disease that only he could treat from time to time. It couldn’t even be considered as a cure, because she needed him every day in her life. Her mindset of receiving love from him took an effect as if it were drugs. It pulled her closer and closer that it affected her psychologically, messing with her mind. She was pure but everyone knows she wasn’t naive. But the thought of the lady being too much never went across Sera’s mind; it’s like sinking and sinking in reality though she felt like it was a dream. It was this care given that kept her having the perspective that madness to others, is love to herself. It wasn’t because he was the first one to make her feel the butterflies, she forced her thoughts thinking he was distinct from all the guys that had hurt her. Either it was this drive of finding someone who’d treat her good, or just wanted more of what John could give. “I need you like a heart needs a beat“ didn’t feel pleasing after all. It’s all because she perceived their relationship as building her life on his attention, on being an object of his affection. But all John wanted to have was Sera, the one who’d motivate him to get up from his bed. It hurts the most because even Sera misses herself. But “you can be who you wanted to be“ wasn’t true all this time because as simple as going back to her usual self, isn’t a piece of cake when John is around. It’s not that they weren’t meant to be, it all just went wrong because she loved him unhealthily to the point that she had forgotten why he had loved her in the first place. Her love reached beyond the limits; pulling her closer to insanity.

Now crazy in love don’t feel sweet, cause I’m with you but I miss me

[junhyukiscute]

for the drabbles can i request #3 w tbz sunwoo + fluff? thank uuu

author note: oh my gosh… you read my mind. sunwoo’s so cute djdjsjjsd

flashbacks (tbz sunwoo x reader)

drabble 3: “you’re so cute, you know that?”

today was the annual “family night” with the boyz, as kevin would like to call it. and of course, you being a long time friend of theirs was always invited. plus you were sunwoo’s significant other (”any friend of sunwoo’s is a friend of ours!!” hyunjae proclaimed). 

you guys played many games like monopoly and charades. now for the finale, there was a movie played. jacob chose “the perks of being a wallflower” tonight and it had played. all the members were so immersed in the movie, especially sunwoo, since he was always intrigued in learning english. you laid your head on his shoulder as you reminisced about your guys past.

back then you were just an intern at creker who was helping with stage production for a new rookie group the company had just released. the boyz was… an incredibly interesting name. while you were checking to make sure that all the props were done for the music video filming, you walked to the back.

“ah, (y/n)! there you are- everyone, i want you to meet the boyz!” your boss said.

they introduced themselves, “best we the boyz! hello, we are the boyz!”

as they were all introducing themselves, you couldn’t help but stare at the tall boy on the far right end, his name was kim sunwoo and didn’t go by any weird stage name. his charisma and deep voice had caught your attention. safe to say, you had also caught his attention too. he nudged kevin with his elbow and asked, “hyung, who is that person?” while looking at you writing some notes down on your notepad. 

“they’re apart of the stage production crew, i think. ask them for their name!!” kevin said excitedly.

while you were continuing to jot down notes and reminders for yourself, a voice cleared their throat and you looked in the direction the person was at. you found sunwoo standing next to you while balancing back and forth on his feet.

“mm.. it must be tiring to wake up early and work, right?” he said nervously while darting his eyes back and forth (his eyes screamed “help me” but kevin and jacob just snickered).

you sighed, “yeah, but it’s kinda fun to work with the props. you’re in that new group that crekers gonna debut right? do you need anything?”

he stopped moving back and forth but his eyes never met you, “maybe…” he turned to look at you and smiled cheekily, “your name and number?”

that was only the beginning of your encounters with sunwoo. he would always ask you questions and help you out whenever something was out of reach for you (you’re shorter than him here).

why was he so cute? the late night talks you guys would have on kakaotalk and the selfies he would send to you were some of the best parts of your day. he’d ask you to hang out with him in the practice room after dance practices were done and would make you go out with him at 4 am to go raid the convenience store with him despite his diet because “you always push aside eating to finish work”. your heart warmed at the way he’d care for you. 

your thoughts were occupied with sunwoo. he was running through your mind so much, it became a daily basis. not to mention that he would keep you up at night with thoughts like “does he like me?” or “i wonder what would happen if we dated.”

obviously he liked you, maybe even more than you did. while you guys were eating instant ramen outside of a 7/11, he set down his cup before looking at you, “(y/n), i like you. wanna go out?” you choked on your noodles before wiping your mouth with the sleeve of your hoodie. “i’d love to go out with you, sunwoo.” the smile on his face after hearing your response was so bright, he reminded you of the first three letters of his name. that was the start of your new relationship with him.

“jagiya, earth to (y/n)?” a hand waved in front of your face. you snapped out of your trance. the movie was still going on, eric was sobbing while the hyungs judged him (new), and sunwoo had a crumpled tissues next to him. you snickered at his softness.

“yes, sunwoo?”

“what’s got you in such a trance that you’re not paying attention to me?” he pouted.

you ruffled his hair roughly before he pettily slapped your hands out, “i was just looking back at the memories we had, like when we met. i just really love you, you know? you changed my world.”

sunwoo looked away and blushed before mumbling, “you’re so cute, you know that?” you laughed at his sudden shyness before engulfing him in your arms, which he gladly complied to.

the sweet moment was ruined when eric threw a handful of popcorn at you guys, “pay attention to the movie, not to each other!!”

[damaless]

To All The Skaters I've Loved Before

Chapter Thirty-Three: My Dear Yuuri

Dear (Uncle) Yuuri,

This note is from Axel, Lutz, and Loop Nishigori and Victor Nikiforov. We want to say that you are a wonderful person and we are so happy that we get to live so close to you now. We love watching you skate and we are proud of you all the time. Please keep this note for good luck, so you can read it before every competition and do your best!

Love,

Axel, Lutz, Loop, and Victor

P.S. The girls have run out of patience for writing, but they wanted me to add that they hope you'll teach them to skate just like you one day. I hope to learn a thing or two also. — Victor

The large, blocky lettering juxtaposed with Victor’s neat script sends a stab of guilt through Yuuri. He at least should have read this one, despite his ambivalent feelings about opening the rest of them. Even though it had been easy to pick out from the bunch, with his name written in messy, childish writing on the surface of the folded up note, it had somehow gotten lost in the mix of the rest of them.

Stored in his barely-used bedroom, the box of notes had completely fallen out of his conscious awareness, with everything else that had been going on in the past few weeks. Near-constant training for the Final and time with Victor filling in all the gaps had meant there had been no time or energy for anything else.

But that’s not strictly true. He had decided not to think about it too hard. He’d let himself indulge in the lingering fear that all the notes before their relationship had become real would turn out to be blank, or would mention Victor’s intentions to get back together with Chris. That what had happened in Beijing had been an impulse decision on Victor’s part, or a passive choice to let things just happen.

He hadn’t wanted to know. He had been happy with Victor, and he didn’t want whatever he might have found out from the notes to put a damper on that. But now…

He spreads out the folded notes on the table, and Phichit picks up the one he’d already opened, from the triplets.

“This is adorable,” he says. “Are they all from the triplets?”

“Just that one,” Yuuri says, turning over one of the notes in his hands. There are tiny numbers scrawled in the corners of each of them — the dates. “The rest are from Victor.”

“And you haven’t read them?” Phichit frowns.

“At first, they were just for show — a ‘thoughtful gesture’ to be caught on camera, for Chris to find out about,” he explains. “At the time, I thought they might be blank, and that I would just end up feeling like an idiot for thinking there would actually be a message for me.”

“That’s— Ugh, Yuuri. You and Victor were friends, even back then, weren’t you? He probably wrote little things to be nice, at least.”

“I know, I know.” Yuuri groans. “I’m awful.”

“Don’t make me flick you again,” Phichit says, warningly.

“Maybe the complete lack of therapy since I moved back to Japan wasn't the best choice ever,” Yuuri mutters.

“Uh, yeah.” Phichit sighs, sitting down across from him. “Are you going to read them now?”

Yuuri nods, and finds the note with the earliest date. All the way back at World’s, Victor had given it to him right before the free skate.

Dear Yuuri,

From the bottom of my heart I want to thank you. You became a shining ray of hope when my life seemed otherwise dark and drab. I'm so glad we're friends.

Cheers to the beginning something wonderful.

Yours,

Victor

Tears prick at his eyes. God, he’s an asshole. If this one has a heartfelt message — the one Victor had given to him literally right in front of Chris — the one most likely to have been just for show — then the rest probably have real messages, too.

The next note had been been right before he’d performed Eros for the first time, in the mini competition against Yuri Plisetsky.

Dear Yuuri,

I’m truly touched that you've allowed me into your life and into your home. You've been working hard and it shows every time you skate. I'm so glad to have the opportunity to help you realize your full potential as a skater, and my life is better for it.

Yours,

Victor

Yuuri presses his fist to his mouth, tears spilling down his cheeks as he blinks hard. How could he have ever thought Victor could be cruel enough to give him blank notes?

“You okay?” Phichit asks, and Yuuri nods silently.

The next note is the one from the triplets, and the one after that is from while they had been sightseeing in Fukuoka. Victor had noticed a few people aiming their phones in their direction, and he’d winked at Yuuri as he’d conspicuously slipped the note into his back pocket.

Yuuri unfolds it carefully.

My dear Yuuri,

I can't adequately convey how much you have changed my life for the better. Every day I wake up with a purpose that I had been missing for a long time before I came with you to Hasetsu. My greatest wish is that I will be able to create such a positive impact on your life as well.

Yours,

Victor

Yuuri smiles through the tears streaming down his face. He hadn’t realized how much Victor’s time in Hasetsu, even early on, had meant to him. He’s hit with a powerful urge to rush out of the room and assure Victor that the impact he’s had on Yuuri’s life has been overwhelmingly positive.

But it will take only a few minutes to get through the rest of them, and then Yuuri will have the context he’s been missing all along. Mari is out there with Victor; he’ll be okay in the meantime, and he deserves for Yuuri to properly read his notes, after all this time.

Yuuri sucks in a breath at the date on the next note. The Fukuoka championship, when he’d been trying his hardest to distance himself from Victor, fearful of his own feelings.

Yuuri,

I miss the closeness that we had. I don't know exactly what I've done wrong, but I want to make amends. I feel like there's a wall between us and my heart aches that I don't get to see the real Yuuri anymore.

I didn't mean to pull you into the deep end.

Let's walk along the beach, instead. Maybe we can wade together in the shallows. And one day, if you can trust me again, we can learn to swim.

Victor

Yuuri sobs. He’s put Victor through so much shit. And Victor has been nothing but gracious and understanding through it all.

… wade together in the shallows…

When was it that he had told Victor about his feelings about getting close to people being like venturing too far from the safe shallows? Hadn’t that been a months before Victor would have written this note? And he’d remembered that detail…

Victor had told him that he’d thought Yuuri had pulled away because he realized that Victor had developed feelings. That must be what he’d meant by ‘pulling him into the deep end’. With this note he’d been trying to tell him that it was alright if Yuuri didn’t reciprocate, that he was still happy to work towards just being his friend again.

Friendship has always been a deeply significant relationship for Victor. Of course a conversation with Chris about it would sound like something of enormous emotional importance.

He curls himself over, pressing his cheek to the table. “I don’t deserve him, Phichit.”

“That’s up to him, I think,” Phichit says, carefully. “So you believe him about Chris, then?”

Yuuri nods, grabbing a Kleenex from the box on the nightstand and blowing his nose. Ugh, he’s such an ugly-crier.

What’s the next one? He takes a deep breath. This is it: the note from the night of the Beijing short program. Had Victor really been planning on taking him out to dinner and telling him how he felt? The note probably won’t say anything outright, but given what had happened that night… He’ll just read it and see for himself.

My dearest Yuuri,

I think — I hope — I understand, now. I'm so sorry I didn't see it sooner, if I’m right.

I'm looking forward to having dinner with you tonight. I hope we can work everything out, and start a new chapter together.

Yours always,

Victor

Yuuri covers his mouth with his hand, caught between sobbing and laughing, smiling and crying. Victor must have already picked up on his feelings at the time, but hadn’t pushed him to talk; he’d listened when Yuuri had asked him not to say anything, even though Yuuri had been completely off-base about what Victor had wanted to talk about.

He scrambles to open the next note, the one Victor had given him before the free skate, after they’d had their night together. He really has no excuse for not reading this one before.

My Yuuri,

You came back to me. I can hardly believe it.

The circumstances that brought us together are so strange and unlikely; it seems like fate that we would find each other in truth despite the layers of pretense we’d placed between us.

Waking up to your smile this morning was true bliss.

Yours always,

Victor

Yuuri sniffles, and pulls off his glasses to dab at his eyes. He laughs wetly. Victor has no room to make fun of the flowery language Yuuri had used in his love letter.

“What are you going to do?” Phichit asks.

“I’m going to go out there.”

Read this chapter on Ao3

Read from the beginning

[cleverbroadwayurl]

WHEN I WAS OLDER (Jeremy Heere x Reader Pt. 24)

Song: WHEN I WAS OLDER by Billie Eilish 

Word Count: 5708

Need to Catch Up? Check my masterlist, Tumblr is dumb! 

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long, I have to move and stuff!! But here’s the new part, and I’m hoping for some exciting things that go with this fic soon! 

Taglist: @macbookpro-hard-drive​ @catatonic-kuragin​ @retrogarden​ @be-more-heidi-hansen​ @scarsonthecuffsofyourjeans​ @stargirl-murphy​ @heytheredee-lilah​ 

Trigger Warnings: An abusive boyfriend, implications of PTSD, language, mentions of abuse, mentions of previous fic parts, LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED SOMETHING 

“I know.” You nod one last time before you finally meet his gaze. For the first time that night, you smile at him, genuinely through the pain and tears as they subside. Your hand reaches out, and he takes it, knowing that for right now, that is all you want, and right now, that is enough.

Amongst his messy room, Jeremy sat on his bed, staring at the wall, reflecting on the evolution of you two; knowing that dating you—something that seemed like climbing Everest before—for a month and a half was a special thing. His fingers danced across his knee, feeling the texture of his jeans, rough and rigid, but causing the right level of softness. His heart flutters as his mind goes over each date, each flutter from before, and every moment in between. His thoughts skated along the warm feelings as daydreams became reality, except without the help and destruction of some artificial intelligence that masked the idea of world domination with sexual tension and manipulation.

Of course, the relationship was kind of kept under tabs while you two still figured some stuff out: everything from feelings to baby steps into publicly revealing that you two were actually dating. He liked the secrecy; it was thrilling with a breath of calm somehow at the climax of it all. With you, it was like everything that came with being wildly secret and yet a moment of calm. Staying in the shadows was rather easy when it was just you two—playing games as the sun set into darkness, shiny stars coming out that would cause a craving to go out and see them within both of you. And it didn’t matter if you didn’t know the real constellations, making them up was just as fun and spectacular.

Although that part was fun, it was odd to not go out to dinner with you and to not have the ability to show you off on social media. It wasn’t that he thought of you like you were an object, or his like he owned you, it was that it might cause a tsunami of trouble that was going to be a rude awakening for the both of you. Staying in the tranquility and excitement of secrecy was worth it with you. That, and being “Facebook Official” had become overrated by the time he actually managed to start dating. It felt like an invasion, and with yours being newly brought back down to not showing your relationship status, a stark difference from what everyone was used to, it just…wasn’t right to betray you like that. Being secret meant saving calm moments for each other; being safe. While he didn’t completely understand why you were seemingly scared of the online world, Jeremy had to admit to himself that he at least had the common sense to respect your wishes—if you didn’t want to post anything because it invaded your sense of security, your comfort, he wouldn’t even suggest it until the two of you felt ready for that step.

With the idea that you didn’t want to go public at first caused Jeremy’s heart to sink, insecurity pulling him under the current and filling his lungs with water. You didn’t enjoy spending time with him—he was an embarrassment. But that wasn’t the case, not with you. At the moment, it was like you’d been scripted, you had known just what to say to him. But after some thought and some mentions of it to his therapist, he took a second to realize that your wishes weren’t about him—well, at least not with your relationship with him—but his safety. It was about keeping him okay for a little while longer.

He couldn’t help being insecure, though. You were just so cute and after months of pining, wishing that you could just be safe with him, it was almost like he was stuck in a dream that he didn’t want to wake up from. It felt like this was just a good dream before the storm comes: the good part in the horror movies before the monster shows up. But you’d reassured him, blush on your face, light in your eyes. You’d kissed his cheek, after asking of course, before looking back at him, explaining that you wished that things were easier. You’d mentioned something under your breath about corrupting him, but Jeremy dismissed that. He’d already been corrupted. If anything, you were going through and restoring him.

With that memory ingrained in his mind, Jeremy gets up from his bed, feet pattering against the floor. It was early enough that wearing a t-shirt seemed too cold. He grabbed a hoodie that he would probably end up regretting, as you two were getting early lunch, followed by walking around a plaza before hitting a Starbucks, or rather, a Pokestop, and heading home, whether together or not he didn’t know quite yet. But the surprise made it all the more wonderful. It was relaxed with you two usually, and with this being the first-ever outing as a couple in public was enough to send shivers down Jeremy’s spine. Just as he was about to grab his phone from the desk, it dings as a text from you popped up:

You: Hey, my mom just asked if we could pick some stuff up so she can make some dinner for tonight. Is it okay if we stop at the organic grocery store around there? I’ll buy your coffee

He smiles, feeling his heart swell within his chest, meeting and filling every millimeter of his chest cavity, red painting his cheeks as if he had been created by someone from the Royal Academy. The grocery store that your mom wanted you two to go to was within the plaza, just at one end, near the Starbucks and Cold Stone. Maybe you’d let him buy you Cold Stone. He shook the thought from his head before typing back, fingers accelerating with every letter he typed:

Jeremy: Sure, we can stop there! And don’t worry about the coffee, I’m just excited to spend some time together

You: You’re very cheesy, but you’ve got yourself a deal, Heere You: I’ll drive

It’s a solid 30 minutes before you pick him up, which of course meant a solid 30 minutes of Jeremy pacing around, double-checking that he looked presentable and that he had everything in his pocket: everything from his wallet to his house keys just in case he came home to an empty house. His phone stayed gripped in his hand, waiting for a text from you to tell you that you were there to pick him up. The minutes pass by slowly, and then faster as he double checked everything once more. A ding comes once again through his phone, and he looks up, seeing your sibling’s car parked in the driveway, still running. He gets up and opens his front door, finally leaving into the public, almost as free as a bird. It’s almost like the scene from Life is Strange: Before the Storm, which Rachel Amber dashing out of class and into Chloe’s pickup, except this was real.

You smile at him as you put your phone down. The door unlocks and Jeremy opens the door, climbing into the seat and buckling his seat belt before smiling at you. Your face reddens as you greet each other, both of you living for the thrill of going out for the first time together. You hand wraps around your phone that was placed in the console, fingers gliding along the smooth glass surface before handing it to Jeremy, aux cord plugged in, but nothing playing. A soft “you choose” escapes you as you flick the car into reverse, contorting to look out the back window as you back out onto the street. It’s in the moment that Jeremy realizes you’ve never driven him, driving never really being part of the experience. The car locks automatically, and there’s a comfort and wonder that washes over him. You two were less than a foot apart, the car is narrow and small enough that he was sure you two would bump shoulders. It was close, not that either of you minded, but it felt like a new kind of intimacy was being established.

Jeremy, of course, had never actually been in your sibling’s car, but he picked the music and the melodies came flowing through the speakers. The trees whizzed past, but your eyes remained on the road, scanning each marking, each sign, each light near and on the street. You had already known the way to go, but it felt so…mechanical. You changed lanes with ease, before you stole at a glance at Jeremy, mouth being painted into a smile. “What are you looking at?” you giggled, eyes still shifting between the road and him.

“Oh,” Jeremy started, flustered as his cheeks became red, ever embarrassed that you’d been staring again. “You.”

You chuckled, leaning forward a little bit as you did so before stopping at a stoplight and looking at Jeremy full on. “You’re really in a cheesy mood today, huh?”

He became redder but still managed to answer somewhat confidently. Speak the truth even if your voice shakes, right? “It’s because you’re cute.”

“Thank you, Jeremy,” you smile at him before your eyes return to the road, the light turning green and the car gliding into motion. “You’re cute too, especially when you blush because you’re being a sap.”

Jeremy can feel his cheeks burn, almost wanting to press his face against the window to prevent any more redness or heat rising to his cheeks and ears. The car turns into a parking lot, the largest part of it being on the left-hand side. Your eyes sneak around the parking lot, searching for a spot in the back, but not too far away from the grocery store that you two needed to go to. You swiftly whipped the wheel around, but not enough to jerk the car or make Jeremy gasp. You pull in, spinning the wheel and letting it relax like it was a dance you’d done many times in the past. Finally, the car stopped, just short of the curb. You pulled the car into park, the parking brake on as you unbuckled your seat belt. You stopped the motion for a second before taking a look at Jeremy who had been mirroring your movements. “Did you maybe want to get food later? I feel like eating first might take a really long time, especially with the wait times and stuff.”

“Sure.”

“Cool.” You continue to gather your stuff before getting out of the car, Jeremy following you just moments behind. Both of you close the doors before you lock them. With a tug on the handle to make sure it was locked, both you and Jeremy stepped out into the plaza.

You two walked close to each other, nearly shoulder to shoulder but not touching one another. Respecting personal space was important to each of you in your own ways; it was an understanding that had been established before and several times. That, and being seen in public with you was already a leap, so as much as he wanted to, Jeremy didn’t dare try and imply anything was happening between you two. Jeremy shortens his step so you don’t have to feel like you’re jogging to keep up. It’s a little awkward at first, but the comfortable silence between you two made up for it. Just being around you was enough for Jeremy.

“Can I hold your hand?” your voice cuts through the silence and white noise of the people around you two, cars driving along the back roads, and dull sounds of restaurants and shops humming in life. You’d stopped, leaving Jeremy still walking in his thoughts. You smile at him, both of you stopped by now. Jeremy can feel his thoughts reeling back into are you crazy? What if someone sees us? Then you’ll be in trouble and I can’t take worrying about—but they stop as your smile widens at him. This moment, here, everything is different now. This isn’t about being friends and only friends, but you were asking because you were dating. This wasn’t as dire as it had once been. Jeremy can feel his face flutter into a wide smile, one to challenge yours before he nods his head. Your face looks a little unsure as Jeremy stands in shock, still nodding.

“Yes,” finally comes from him.

“That’s what I was looking for, Jeremy.”

You meet up with him, now standing side by side again. Your hand fits into his like a jigsaw puzzle. Both of you look away from each other, an attempt to hide the pink that seemed to swirl around you two. And then, just like that, the moment is gone as both of you relax into the contact. It’s a soft hold, one that celebrates the little intimacy, rather than one that grips for dear life. It’s here that Jeremy decides to let his thumb graze along the side of your hand, a soothing gesture he’d learned from Christine’s need to fidget. If he ever felt anxious or the need to move, it was a habit he had adapted into his regular life. That, and it was a comfort for whoever was receiving it. Within a few seconds of staring the action, Jeremy watched as your shoulders relaxed downwards. It was clear to him now that you’d been stressed about this, but things were working out in your favor. As they should.

The plaza stretches for probably half a mile, so after walking along the streets, window shopping and physically going into the store, the two of you end up at the Starbucks that almost seems like a hallway, the long bar counter full of people as they wait for their coffee or sip and multitask. You smile at Jeremy, face now calm and squeezing his hand ever so slightly, “Know what you want?”

“Yeah.”

So, the two of you stand in line, waiting patiently for a barista to take your order. It’s relaxing in the establishment, warm lights and aroma seeping its way into your experience of the place. A soothing tone comes over with the music coming through the speakers. Finally, one opens up and you both step up, telling the barista what you want. Before Jeremy can even pull out his wallet, you can scan your mobile rewards card before the barista smiles at you and you two step along to the end of the bar like counter. Jeremy inhales as you two plant yourself right by the pickup counter, your hand grazing against his. He takes it before looking at you. “I said you didn’t need to buy my coffee,” Jeremy says somewhat seriously, but with a hint of playfulness that expresses he isn’t mad, he’s just surprised that you went and did it anyway after he said he didn’t mind paying for it.

“I know, but I want the points. So now it’s like you’ll buy me a coffee because I was only 10 stars away from my free drink. So technically…”

Jeremy smiles to himself before shaking his head a little. “We both paid for our own coffees.”

“Exactly. It’s in the math, Jeremy.”

He chuckles at your antics, knowing that you’d come up with that reasoning yourself so you could get away with buying him coffee even though he’d said it was totally fine that you two had to run an errand for your mom. Jeremy adjust his sweatshirt with his other hand, playing with the drawstrings.

Pretty soon, your name is called and the coffees are given to you before heading out to the grocery store just across the large parking lot. It doesn’t matter that you two can’t hold hands as you two-handedly sip your drink, blowing into the cup to not burn your tongue. Jeremy stops, feeling stars in his eyes as he admires you sipping, his heart leaping out. You catch up with him a little bit, and Jeremy can’t help but admire how this situation feels so perfect after a year of imperfections making their way into his life, driving stakes into his happiness until it was almost dead; until it almost made him sick.

Within a few minutes, the two of you step into the store. A wind brushes over the two of you from the fans above the door, past the carts. Jeremy feels you tense up, even without the contact. Your arms come up and fold as the cool air from the store remains. You walk into the produce section as you pull up the list on your phone. Jeremy follows curiously, taking a peek at the list and only seeing about 5 items on it. You tense again as Jeremy watches a shiver run down your spine.

“Do you want my jacket?” Jeremy asks, already pulling his arms out of the sleeves of the light grey zip-up he’d been wearing pretty much all day.

“What? No, Jeremy, then you’ll be cold,” you note, observing him taking off his jacket.

“It’s fine, the A/C feels good.” It was a true statement. He’d been a little warm with the sweatshirt, the humidity, and the warm drink that sat in his grasp.

You sigh for a second, realizing that either you won’t going to win this little battle or becoming too cold to hold your pride. Jeremy takes off his sweatshirt and hands it to you. You grab it before giving Jeremy a very serious look, swinging the grey fabric around your shoulders. “Okay, but the second you get cold, I’m giving it back.”

Jeremy chuckles at you again before nodding, a small “yeah” falling from his lips, finally feeling the air conditioning against his own skin. Surprisingly, Jeremy didn’t feel cold for over 15 minutes. With him admiring you, standing on your tippy-toes to reach something on the shelf, switching the basket from arm to arm, before just handing it off to Jeremy so you could focus on what next while he could sit back and let you do your thing. He could feel his heart flutter as you scanned aisles, searching for the correct item, stepping in and out of areas before making a harsh stop and walking back, muttering an “I’m sorry, I don’t live in this area anymore,” to him as you did so. But Jeremy got it. He didn’t feel like the area was home anymore. It felt more like his childhood home. Your eyebrows furrowed on almost every item on the list, Jeremy feeling himself internally swoon as you did so with every passing purchase that was placed into the basket. His arm was starting to fall asleep from the harsh bars on the basket, but he didn’t mind, as long as you were comfortable.

And the trip itself, the one that kept him warm, was all of about 15 minutes. His body was loose and radiated heat as he watched you and dreamed of life years away, thinking about how this could be a regular occurrence. He could picture late nights of running to the store, moments after picking you up from the airport, promising you food as he pulled into the parking lot for late-night ice cream, early morning trips before events, shopping trips during busy times, coming here for you when you got sick or needed literally anything, even if it meant sacrificing his dignity. You turned to look at him, both of you gearing up to go to the checkouts, a smile burning itself into Jeremy’s brain.

“Ugh, I forgot this place has no self-checkouts,” you quietly mentioned, and Jeremy could hear the edge in your voice as you looked back at Jeremy, pulling out your wallet.

The line moved fairly quickly, and Jeremy finally was able to give himself a rest as he placed the green basket on the black belt, letting the technology do the work for him. As the basket moved up, so did you two. Before long, you were smiling at the cashier, a tall man with straight brunette hair. He couldn’t be older than you and Jeremy and was in a chipper mood as you took out a card to insert into the machine. Your eyes gazed around the store before you stiffened again. You were locked onto the windows that looked out into the parking lot, summer decorations covering the bars that held the windows together, a bulletin board stuck on the sides of it, little paper coloring pages covering it. Then you stiffened again, except this time causing your entire body to shake, eyes glazed over as you tried to center yourself back into reality. You started to mess up your words, seemingly unable to focus on anything, even though you’d worked retail for a while and knew exactly what to say to the cashier, you fumbled over each constant, each phrase. Your voice shook as you spoke in low hushed tones. Your face became pale like you were deathly ill in a matter of seconds. Your hands shook as you inserted your card into the reader, seemingly panicked as you did so.

His eyes scanned the decorations again, searching for some answers among the clip art coloring pages, hoping that something would jump out at him, that something would be the missing piece, the missing item to beat the boss. His eyes searched each piece of paper until his eyes fell on one. Your ex-boyfriend’s name was printed on it, marked in different colors with some cheap Microsoft 2007 font. It was on the bottom, near the edge of the window frame, but still there in broad florescent.

Jeremy mirrored your stiffening as denial hit him fast. Your ex-boyfriend had a common name in the area, maybe it was just a coincidence. Your ex-boyfriend also lived miles away from the store, so it wouldn’t make sense that he’d work here, at the store that was overpriced, miles away, and organic—things that Jeremy couldn’t see your ex supporting. It had to mean nothing.

Something tickled at the back of his brain, though. It was similar to the feeling right before you find a spider on the wall; something isn’t quite right. Jeremy tried to discreetly move his head around, finding himself searching for the thing that made him feel like that. It was fluid until he found it; Jeremy’s entire body turning as cold as January in an instant. There, one register away, was your ex-boyfriend bagging groceries and watching both of you out of the corner of his eye. His customer service smile was gone as he placed things in the bag, a stark contrast to the chipper employees that you’d both chosen to be rung up with. Just as your ex-boyfriend started to make full contact at Jeremy—who was definitely staring—the pinpad rang out, pushing out of the vacuum that seemed to be around him. He stole a glance at you, your hands still shaking as you put the card back in your wallet. Your eyes remained forward, your shoulders drooping and oh my god you were wearing Jeremy’s sweatshirt in front of the guy that thought you cheated on him with Jeremy.

Fear for your safety struck Jeremy’s heart as he managed to smile at the workers before picking up the bags himself. He thanked them and grabbed the receipt, putting it into the green plastic bag. You stumbled after him like a newborn giraffe, or a drunk college girl, off-balance and cautious. Jeremy held his other arm out so you could steady yourself as you practically tried to smoosh into him, wishing you were anywhere but there. He pulled you into him before whispering a single question in your ear, making sure that he was being quiet enough to not draw even more suspicion. “Can I wrap my arm around you?”

“Yes,” the word bolted from your mouth quietly, your voice already thick with tears. Jeremy mapped the way you’d have to walk out of the store, acknowledging that you would have to walk right past him if Jeremy had you walk on the right side. Instead of relying on his dominant hand, he wrapped his left arm around you, ensuring that you’d be on the safer side while Jeremy would probably get the worst of it. He kept the pace as you leaned into him, fear screaming from you so loud that Jeremy couldn’t believe more people weren’t rushing to help. For a second, Jeremy’s eyes met your ex-boyfriend’s as you two walked past, Jeremy remaining as stoic as your ex, knowing that the aftermath of this was going to be brutal. Jeremy can feel you shake against his skin, almost begging him to move faster and past this moment.

The second leaves and you two step out of the automatic doors. Your feet push you to be faster than Jeremy; his arm falling from keeping you close to a reassuring touch on your back. You pull the car keys out of your pocket, hands still shaking as you walk faster and faster to your car. With one click, it unlocks and you climb into the driver’s seat, hands white as you grip the keys. Jeremy goes into the passenger seat, leaving the food items on the floor by him while you focused on nothing outside. Your breathing stops being so accelerated, but you can’t bring yourself to even let go of the strong grip on your keys. The air settles for a second, death looming in the car before Jeremy finally speaks again, in an attempt to help you get to safety.

“Maybe I should drive.”

You don’t move or say anything for a second, acting like he isn’t there. Jeremy’s fear hits him—he’s too late, you’ve already gone into a flashback and panic so bad that you can’t even bring yourself to look at him. He’s seen this in himself, he knows how bad it is, but unfortunately, the moment’s before couldn’t be erased. So instead, Jeremy waits. He doesn’t dare move but lets you process every moment, every word, and what to do next. It’s another minute at least before you speak again. “Y-Yeah. You need to drive. I can’t do that right now.”

“Okay.” He stops for a second, letting things settle before he continues. “Do you want to switch seats?”

“I can’t feel anything from my eyes down, Jeremy.”

He nods, trying his hardest not to further disturb you or dig up anything worse than what was going on. “Let me know when you’re ready.”

It’s another 30 seconds at least of pure silence and stillness. The keys jingle first, and Jeremy realizes that you’d gain courage, that something is stirring within you so you can move enough to make the keys jingle. Your hand finds its way to the door handle, caution dripping in every action. The door opens and Jeremy begins to move, quickly going through the motions to meet you on the other side. You’re barely out of the car before Jeremy offers his hand, giving you structure and someone to lean on as he softly guides you to the passenger side. It’s sweet, but the moments of kindness are slipping away quickly—it’s hard to remain soft in such a sharp circumstance. You get situated in the seat after Jeremy opens the door for you, closing the door softly enough so you won’t flinch at the slamming door. He rushes to the other side, opening his own door before sliding in. His hand reaches out once he’s sitting with his seat belt buckled, almost asking for the keys that lay in your grip still, almost like they were the things that were going to keep you safe. There’s another moment of silence before Jeremy has no idea where he’s going. “Do you still want to get dinner?”

You shake your head slightly, still stuck on staring straight ahead. “Sorry. I’m sorry, I can’t…I can’t do that. I’m not hungry. I want to go home.”

Jeremy nods before starting the car as softly as he can. You don’t jump at the startup and relax under the hum the car creates. You’re silent for another second as Jeremy puts the car in gear, handling each moment against the car as smoothly as he can. Caution plagues him as he turns around to pull out of the parking lot. He moves the car slowly before finally putting the car in drive and heading out of the parking lot and back onto the road, back to safety. You sigh for a second, eyes now moving and scanning the trees.

“You know, talking uhh, talking helps. Not much, but it’s better than nothing.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. We can talk.” The words stumble out, but Jeremy almost can’t find something to talk about. His brain attempts to find something safe to talk about, something you’d be interested in enough to partake in the conversation—something that would distract you. His mind finally settles on something that he hadn’t thought about up until a month ago. “Uhh, I guess Christine made a new friend. She posted a photo on Instagram, I’m not really sure what it was about, but I think it’s good she’s making friends at college. That’s important, you know? I was worried that she’d be like…an outsider, being from New Jersey and stuff. She also mentioned to me that she hopes you’re doing well. I forgot to tell you before, but she’s rooting for you. I thought you’d like to know, since you two both kind of went out of state and have a lot in common, I guess.”

“Oh,” comes first, a little color returning to your cheeks. “Tell her thank you and that I hope she’s doing well, too.” Your eyes now trace the trees as they move past, relaxing a little bit into the scene. The seat is stiff as you lean back onto it, fingers beginning to relax. “Do you mind if I uhh pick the music? I don’t completely feel my hands again, but I think I can try that.”

“Absolutely.”

“Thanks.” It’s a slow process, a contemplation before your hand even moves. You decide to put on something soft and sweet, and to Jeremy, it sounds like a song from Waitress. He doesn’t ask about it, leaving the melodies undisturbed as he stops at a stoplight, just happy that you’re feeling more like yourself again. He can hear your breath deepen as your shoulders go down.

The rest of the car ride back to Jeremy’s house is silent, besides the music flooding through the car. It doesn’t feel right to talk, to discuss what happened. Not yet, at least. It feels better to leave everything hanging there among the music, to just let it go as fast as you two can before talking about in detail. And while Jeremy is disappointed about dinner, he’d rather you be safe than force you through something that could put a strain on you and the relationship. He’d once pretty much vowed to himself to keep you safe and happy—forcing you through dinner would be a horrible thing to do.

He pulls into his driveway, the car slowing to a stop as he does so. His eyes glance at you as you gaze at his house for a second longer. You sigh before making eye contact with him. “I’m sorry I ruined—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jeremy says. “It’s not like you anticipated him working there and seeing him. Stuff happens sometimes.”

You’re quiet for a second, encoding what Jeremy said into your brain. A small “thank you” comes from you. There’s another beat before you apologize, the words hanging into the air.

“Like I said, life happens. It’s okay,” Jeremy reassures while nodding, his hand on the door handle.

“Oh”—you start grabbing your stuff, including the keys that Jeremy had subconsciously set on the console—“I’ll walk you to your doorstep.” You open your door with a pop, finally feeling a little bit steadier than you had since leaving the grocery store.

Jeremy blushes before meeting you on the pavement of his driveway. You smile somewhat sadly at him, regret influencing some extra lines being formed on your face. Your hand is offered to him, and Jeremy takes it softly, the contact creating a darker blush. “I had fun,” you note, playing with the keys. “Well except for maybe that last part. But I’ll uhh, make it up to you.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Jeremy. That wasn’t fair to randomly cancel. But thank you for being there.”

“Oh uhh, you’re welcome.”

You nod before continuing with the statement. “I didn’t just mean today. I meant like, all the time. And for, well, blocking me from him.”

“No problem.” He checks the time with his phone before returning your sheepish smile back, giving both of you a chance to be comfortable in this moment for a change. “You should go,” comes from Jeremy suddenly. “Your parents are probably looking for you.”

“Yeah,” you say, nodding at the observation before glancing around Jeremy’s street. You look back at him after glancing, taking in the moment. “I’ll text you. We’ll go out to eat next time. Promise.”

Jeremy chuckles at your antics for a second, the smile he can’t help influencing his actions. “Sounds good.”

“Have a good night, Jeremy,” you smile at him, giving his hand a tight squeeze before you let go of it altogether.

“You too. Text me when you get home.”

You nod before heading back into the car, seemingly okay for now. Jeremy inhaled, praying that it wasn’t just an act, that you weren’t secretly falling apart about this. Even from the beginning, Jeremy had known you were a good actor, easily gliding from day to day and pretending that nothing bothered you—like nothing was wrong. He knew today cut deeper than anything had in a while. He sighed before walking into his house, the lights on, meaning his dad was most likely home.

Jeremy can feel his phone vibrate, expecting a text from you, telling him that you’d made it home okay. He can feel a sense of surprise go across his face at the contact, and even more so at the message. His hands start to sweat as he reads the message over and over again.

Rich: We need to talk.

[oghoneytryst]

xx.

where harry hides his true feelings behind a thoughtful birthday card.

a/n: in which I should be working on requests but instead this pops out.

a piece inspired by this post. enjoy!

-

When y/n spots a sealed pink envelope crammed between the usual bills and coupons hoarding her small mailbox, she is nothing short of bemused. Only during special occasions, such as her birthday or the holidays, is y/n ever lucky enough to be the recipient of a precious Hallmark card. Otherwise, it is expected of her dreary mail to lack such a colorful and ominous surprise as the one currently cradled in her hands.

Her curious eyes do a quick scan over the back of the envelope, and she notices the return address missing from the top left corner. In its space occupies the name MICK GREENBERG written in sloppy capital letters, two kissy x’s residing just beneath it.

Strange, y/n thinks to herself. She doesn’t seem to recall ever meeting a Mick before, much less a Mick Greenberg who evidently fancies sending thoughtful letters rather than halfhearted texts. Perhaps the card is not meant for her after all, given that she also does not recall ever giving her address to a stranger such as Mick.

Y/n considers taking the pretty envelope back down to give to her landlord in case it is meant for somebody else, but laziness makes her decide against it when she reaches the remaining steps to her floor. While attempting to unlock the front door to her apartment, telling herself that she will turn it in first thing in the morning, her soft eyes catch a glimpse of the scribbling done at the center.

It is then that everything begins to make sense.

With a soft sigh escaping her two lips, y/n twists the key in the lock and shuffles inside her living area. The distant sound of nails clattering along the floorboards brings a smile to her face.

“Hey, precious,” she coos to Ruben, the hyperactive border terrier circling around her feet.

Carelessly tossing her bag to the floor, y/n trudges over to the couch, unbothered by the sheds of dog hair littering the cushions. She pats twice on her lap, motioning for her pet to join her as her new discovery burns in the back of her mind.

RUBEN Y/L/N. The envelope is addressed to her dog, who she ever-so-proudly can recall has a birthday coming up in the next few days. She’s certain that Mick Greenberg is also aware of this momentous occasion, but y/n prefers to allude to Harry by his given name than by his songwriting pseudonym.

A laugh escapes her. It’s been almost a year since their unfortunate parting, where both of them had been so desperately in love but neither had been capable of finding time for the other. It was a decision that had been concluded after a countless number of difficult hours-long discussions, but it had been mutual nonetheless. To accept the end of their relationship meant the separated pair had to suffer through their respective painful months of mourning and tears, but at the end of the day, it wasn’t fair to hold onto something that felt so distant and permuted. Y/n is only grateful that no bad blood has surged between them.

That isn’t to say that the two still keep in contact with each other. Y/n hasn’t spoken to Harry since the night before he was to embark on his world tour, wishing him the best of luck and sealing the end of their relationship.

Almost a year later, Harry is sending a birthday card to the rescue dog they had adopted together.

Y/n knows she shouldn’t open it. Nothing beneficial could possibly come from opening the envelope, unless Harry had been considerate enough to get Ruben a gift card to splurge on new toys at the pet store.

It’s worth taking a peak.

Slipping her finger through the small opening at the side of the seal, y/n rips open the flap in an unorderly manner. She takes the short-lived opportunity to play with Ruben, a silly expression painting over her face as she very slowly slides the card out from its paper packaging.

“Wow, lookie here, Ruben,” y/n exclaims, presenting the front of the birthday card to her tail-wagging dog. “It almost looks like you, bubs!”

Ruben barks at the picture of his look-alike printed over the face of the card, except his twin sports a decorative party hat and has confetti all around him.

Without noticing the bulkiness of the card, y/n is surprised when a slightly heavier item falls from the inside. “Sick,” she whispers, grabbing ahold of the glossy gift card that has fallen onto the couch.

She rushes to place the gift card back into the regular card for safekeeping, but pauses when she notices the entire inside marked with a scrawling of continuous ink. Trailing the pads of her finger down the lengthy handwritten note, y/n becomes at war with her mind and her heart about whether or not she should proceed to read it.

“Dammit, Harry,” she seethes, admitting defeat once she sinks deeper into the back of the couch and softly rubs at her dog’s wavy fur. With an attempt to clear her throat, y/n reads: “Dear Ruben...” 

I know it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, but I’m sending you this gift to let you know that I haven’t forgotten about you. I want to write this to wish you a happy birthday! I can’t even imagine how much you must’ve grown since I last saw you, but I know you’re not a pup anymore. I can’t hold you in my single hand anymore, but you’re never too big to hold in my heart.

Please tell your mom not to roll her eyes when she reads that.

Y/n rolls her eyes a second time, only a few sentences into the letter. 

I hope this card has gotten to you safely because I don’t know how I would feel if some stranger were to read all of the sweet moments we once shared. To me, they are special, and they should be a secret that only we know. Not because I am afraid to show the world how much I love you, but because there are some things that should only be for us.

So where do I begin, little lad? Should I start with the day your mum and I first fell in love with you at the animal rescue center, that one Tuesday evening? You took a straight wee on me, don’t think I’ve forgotten. I had to throw that sweater away, but you had fit so nicely in the sleeve, so I cut it off and let you nap in it. I know you’ve outgrown it, but I still have it safe with me. Maybe you can sleep with it one day.

I think back to those times when we stayed at home, relaxing on the couch as we stared at the telly. I really enjoyed cuddling with you, bud. You’re very soft and warm and you helped the bad dreams go away. And those times you’d make me laugh, when you gave me a kiss early in the morning before I was on my way to wherever I was off to that day, our silly fights that we always overcame ... I will remember those the most.

Creased lines appear on y/n’s forehead from her incertitude in Harry’s words. Though he is addressing Ruben very clearly in the letter, she has a gut-feeling that he means something else with the recollection of their memories. Perhaps it is because these moments he has shared with Ruben are moments he has also shared with her. 

There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t think of you. I promise, even on the other side of the world, I smile knowing that you are happy and healthy, little lad. Thank you for that. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay with you, but I know your mum is giving you enough love from the both of us. I miss you. I love you. I hope you have the best birthday. Please continue to look after your mum and care for her. Be there for her like you were for me.

See you when I see you,

Dad xx 

Y/n’s voice trails off at the two x’s that match the ones inked on the envelope. There is a silence in the air that follows, one that y/n feels very strangely about. Ruben notices his mother’s uneasy state and jumps up from his spot on the couch. Standing on his hind legs, he leans his front paws against his mother’s arm and sniffles at the stray tears that have absentmindedly fallen.

Y/n lets out a weary laugh, wipes away her tears, and shoves the card back in its pretty pink envelope. “Wow, Ruben. I don’t even get letters that long for my birthday. You must be really special to daddy, huh?”

Scooping the loving dog in her arms, she buries her face in the comforting fur and ponders about the words echoing in her mind.

There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t think of you.

Later that night, y/n is wrapped up in the sheets of her bed. Ruben snoozes lightly at her side and the night sky ages to an early, early morning; 1:22, to be exact, but y/n has not been able find solace in her sleep.

Instead, she stares at her phone screen, scrunching her face at the one contact she never even thought about deleting.

HARRY : message | call

Her fingertip lingers over the message icon, her teeth nervously gnawing at her lips until tiny bits of skin tear away. She doesn’t know where in the world he is, which continent he could be exploring as she disputes with herself, but she knows that the unsettling feeling in her stomach will not go away until she acknowledges his sweet letter.

So, she takes her chances and composes a text message.

to: HARRY

Ruben says thank you for the card.

Sent. Y/n locks her phone right after, dropping the device on her stomach to palm at her eyes harshly. Is it fair of him to have reached out to her in the manner that he had and pretend as if it were so innocent?  She knows that it is not. He must have known how her conscious would eat at her until she had no choice back to reach back.

The faint ding! that resonates from her phone nearly makes y/n choke on the pure air.

from: HARRY

I’m glad to hear that.

Tell Ruben not to go too crazy at the pet store.

Air shoots out from y/n’s nose in the form of a silent makeshift laugh. She smiles at the message and is relieved that she didn’t have to wait hours upon hours for his response.

to: HARRY

ok lol.

The word read followed by the time 2:27 AM instantly appears beneath her minuscule message. She feels her chest tighten. There is something peculiar in knowing that wherever it is Harry may be, she knows that he stares at his phone screen, reading over the same nervous messages as she does.

to: HARRY

Ruben says he misses you.

Sent. The read receipt once again appears below her message. She doesn’t know what she wants to gain from sending such a straightforward message. She doesn’t even know why she advances with the miles-long conversation, but the three dots appearing on the bottom of the screen as an indication of his typing makes her heart drop down to her tummy for the first time in nearly a year. 

from: HARRY

I miss you too. xx

[olicitysecretsanta]

True Loves Gifts: AN 2018 SECRET SANTA GIFT

@christinabeggs: May you Holiday be bright and full of Olicity dessert. I hope you enjoy this fic. It gave me the gift OF writing again and finding the joy of creating something new. 

TRUE LOVES GIFTS:

After months of long nights in the office, smoldering looks over the computer screen Felicity has a date with one of the most eligible bachelors in Starling City. A handsome billionaire her mother would be proud to call son. They share a concern for making their relationship public considering he is technically her boss. A few whispered conversations and an upcoming Winter Gala made Felicity his date.

Ray was everything she’d dreamed of as a potential husband. He was brilliant, charismatic, funny, he valued her mind as much as her body.

Felicity has a little over a week to find the perfect dress, make a hair appointment to touch up her roots. Her work schedule left her with only one day to get everything done.

She throws  her hair up in a messy bun, her comfortable shopping outfit leggings and oversize sweater. Felicity grabs her purse, texting Renee about her hair emergency. Felicity is looking down unaware of the person standing in her hallway until she slams into the hard body.

Felicity lets out a yelp before falling backwards on her butt. Her glasses fall off her nose turning the world into blurry shades of green and brown.

“Hey!?” Felicity snaps. “Anyone get the name of the tree I ran into? Ouch, sorry I didn’t see you.”

She looks up at the man standing in front of her, he’s wearing head to toe camouflage. Half his face is covered with a full beard. His hair is shaggy under the green ball cap he wore. The rest of his face hidden behind dark sunglasses. On his shoulder is a stuffed duffle bag.

“I didn’t know camouflage works in urban hallways,” Felicity tilts her head to the side. She sees his lips twitch, at least she thinks  they did. It was hard to tell with the dead animal on his face.

“Are you okay?” the tree of a man has a deep rich amused voice.

Something about him seems familiar. He reaches down helping her get to her feet. He smells of sand and a faint hint of spice.

“Oliver in 2B?!” Felicity says with a snap of her fingers.

He was a ARMY something or other and had been deployed for over eighteen months. She had a bit of a crush on him before he’d left but never had the courage to tell him. They had been friendly neighbors, he’d help her with projects around the apartment. She’d save his computer from him. On rare occasions he’d cook her dinner.

The first few months after he left she’d send him care packages full of cookies made by the bakery down the block and a few pictures of her Sunday adventures. She stopped writing when he never wrote her back.

“Felicity 2A, good to see you.” Oliver’s says softly.

Felicity looks down at her rumpled clothes, drags a hand over her hair.

“Welcome home,” her phone dings in her pocket. “I have to run, glad you made it back.”

Felicity rushes past him, she can feel his eyes watching her, she refuses to give him the satisfaction of turning back. Oliver had been a short term crush from some long ago dream. Ray Palmer was a viable future. She has a date to get ready for and no time to waste thinking about Oliver 2B.

….

Renee does an amazing job on her hair color. He practices a few different updos depending on style of dress. His vote is something short to show off her legs. She promises him pictures before running off for dress shopping.

She hits the major stores trying on different styles, colors, lengths, fabrics nothing feels  right. Felicity finds a small boutique she’d only read about in a magazine. The dresses are stunning. The price tags shocking.

A skin tight beaded red dress catches her eye.

Standing in front of the mirror Felicity wonders what Oliver would say if he saw her in this dress. Would his eyes follow the deep V of the neck line or would he be drawn to the mid thigh length.

She shakes her head of Oliver thoughts. This dress isn’t for him, it’s for Ray.

It’s for her future.

Felicity runs her hand over the beads, her finger drawing along the intricate designs. She’d need a new bra, a little something intimate to match. A new pair of shoes that’d kill her feet and make her legs appear longer. It would be cold, Felicity is going to need a wrap to keep her warm. Is Ray the kind of guy to offer her his coat?

A few hours later, Felicity stumbles into her apartment.  She spent way more than she should have. Probably will live off top ramen for a few weeks. It’s worth it. She puts away her purchases then collapses on the couch.

Pulling out her cell phone she considers calling Ray. Felicity puts her phone down when she remembers Ray turns his phone off on Sunday’s, she’d see him tomorrow. They have an early meeting with a new client.

A loud buzzing from her intercom startles her. Felicity press the button, the image of a teenager holding a bag filled the small monitor.

“Yes?” she asks in confusion.

“Delivery for 2A.”

“I didn’t order anything?” It has been a long day but she would have remembered ordering food.

The kid sighs, “well someone did and I’m supposed to deliver it. So do you want it or not?”

“What is it?” Felicity recognizes the logo on the bag. It’s the best kosher deli in the city.

“Latkes,” the teenager taps his toe.

She has only had Solomon’s Latkes a few times and they were amazing. “I’ll be right down. Oh, how much?” Felicity reaches for her purse.

“Paid for including the tip.”

“You sure they are for 2A?” Felicity is highly suspicious, also hungry.

“Come on lady I have two more deliveries, if you don’t want them I’ll leave.” The kid pulls out his phone.

“No way am I turning down Latkes, two minutes.”

Felicity runs out the door in her socks.  Her feet slide on the hardwood floor, her arms pinwheel and she starts to fall back. A strong arm wraps around her waist and pulls her back into a warm chest. She inhales the smell of warm spices. The tip of her ear brushes against coarse hair.

“We got to stop meeting like this 2B.” Felicity’s voice is low. She licks her lips.

“Just trying to help 2A.” Oliver’s says in her ear.

His hands slide up her sides onto her shoulders and he gently places her steady on her feet. She misses his warmth instantly. He stays a few inches behind her, the heat radiating between them. Felicity fears if she turns around she will do something crazy and throw herself back in his arms.

“Very kind of you 2B. Well, I have latkes waiting.” Felicity steps away from him for the second time today. Each step harder than the first.

“Merry Christmas 2A,” Oliver calls out to her.

Felicity stops, she turns around. She sees him standing tall, his back straight, shoulder tight taking up the entire space of the hall with his size. He is out of the uniform, a black tee shirt cling to his chest. His arms were bigger, she wants to drag her hand over the lines of his chest. His jeans hug his hips. He is bigger, broader more gladiator than a simple soldier. His beard still covers his face. Unlike last time she could see his piercing blue eyes. When she meets his eyes something in his body eases.

“Thanks, but I’m Jewish.” Felicity corrects. She swore they’d talked about this before. Maybe she wrote it in a letter. Oliver didn’t remember, why should she care.

“Oh then, Happy Hanukkah 2A.” Oliver steps back, walks into his apartment and closes the door. .

“Lateks, I have Lateks.”

She hesitates another moment. She used to linger in the hall until he’d open his door and ask about her day. They would talk from their doorways until she’d slip out of her shoes. He’d tease her about being tiny and tell her to have a nice night before disappearing behind his door. The time he was gone the hallway felt empty and cold. She’d walk by his door and know he wasn’t home.  The hallway became colder, everything a little more empty. It felt as if even the building held its breath.

Felicity smiles knowing he is behind the door, Oliver was home safe. It would take her time to get used to him being home. Maybe they would even get back to the way they use to be. Her letters never revealed how she’d felt, she has no reason to be mad at him.

She slowly turns away from the door and down the stairs. The teen gave up waiting, leaving her strange delivery on the front porch. Felicity brings the bag inside, locks her door and sets her alarm. She opens the bag, inside with the receipt, there is a note.

On the first night of Hanukkah my True love gave to me a platter of latkes.

She looks at her calendar and realizes that she’d almost forgotten in all her rushing. The card wasn’t signed. The only logical person has to be Ray. She’d told him about the deli and her love of the food. Felicity couldn’t believe he’d done this for her. It was thoughtful and sweet.

Facility hated surprises but she is sure this years Hanukkah was going to be special.

…

Each day following she receives a small gift arriving near sunset with a short message.

On the second day of Hanukkah my True Love gave to me a dreidel made of wood.

She was sure it was handmade.

On the third day of Hanukkah my True Love gave to me an ugly Jewnicorn sweater.

The blue sweater makes her laugh out loud when she pulls it from the box. A white unicorn surrounded by Stars of David and a blue and gold rainbow. It is terrible and she loves it.

On the fourth day of Hanukkah my True Love gave to me a box of menorah cookies.

She eats half the box before lunch.

On the fifth day of Hanukkah my True Love gave to me a Blue Nail polish.

Felicity changes her color that night, sure that it would be a sign to Ray she was enjoying his gifts.

Through the days she tries to talk to Ray, to thank him but he is constantly on the move. She can never catch him alone. He tells her to order a limo for Saturday night. He touches her elbow, his palms are damp and soft.

Felicity thinks about Oliver, wonders what he’s doing back home. She hasn’t talked to him since Sunday. She has seen him a few times through her window. She’s watch him running home in the early morning after his run. His clothes drenched in sweat. Before coming inside he scrapes ice off the Diggles car, they have two kids and always seem to be rushing. A few times Felicity would leave for work and her windshield would be clean.

She wonders how is he is adjusting to being home. How long will he be home? What if he leaves before she can fix their friendship. Did she want to fix it or advance it?

Felicity stares out the window, lost in thought. The voice around her sound far away and hollow.

“Earth to Felicity,” Ray’s voice cuts off her Oliver spiral. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you this week, but I need you to wake up and do your job.”

Ray storms off leaving a flabbergasted Felicity. He’d been wrong during their last meeting and when she tried to correct him he sent her out for coffee. Her ears turn red and she almost snaps her pencil in half. It’s only the sight of the blue nails that calm her down. Ray is having a rough week but still doing things that made her feel special. She brushes off his bad behavior and gets back to work.

On the sixth day of Hanukkah my True Love gave to me a Blue Police Box from Doctor Who filled with treats.

Felicity opens the lid of cookie jar police box and the familiar sound of the Tardis fills her kitchen. Inside are gold foil wrapped chocolate coins. She loved these as a kid.

She grabs a handful before leaving her apartment. She stands in front of Oliver’s door, lifts her hand. Before she knocks, the door opens and she lets out a squeal.

“Damit 2B, are you trying to kill me.” Felicity smacks his arm.

Olive chuckles, “I don’t think so 2A. I just seem to have a strange effect on you.”

“Ha, you have no idea what you’re doing to me.” Felicity mumbles. Her heart is racing, her knees weak.

Oliver crosses his arms and a single eyebrow lifts. He leans against his doorframe.

“I mean not doing to me. Not that you’re doing anything to me or even talking to me. Why aren’t you talking to me? I want to hear about what you’ve been up too.”

Oliver stiffens, he pulls back from her. A wall comes down over his eyes. “You don’t want to hear about that. I’m back and that’s all that matters now.”

“I do want to hear about it,” she tries again. “I want to know about the pet you got on your face.”

“Listen 2A, I have plans. Did you need something?”

Felicity steps back, her eyes burning. She shakes her head. “I… Um wanted to give you some Gelt.”

She holds out her hand filled with coins. He reaches out his hand, his fingers drag down her palm. Felicity curls her hand prolonging the warm sensation burning up her arm and down her spine. Oliver stares down at their hands, Felicity watches emotion cross his face. His wall comes down for an instant.

“Oliver,” Felicity breaths out his name. She takes a small step closer. His head lifts up, his eyes meet hers. She longs to touch his cheek, to pull him in.

Her phone rings in her pocket and the moment is broken. Oliver steps back, his wall back in place, standing between them. She licks her lips and pulls out her phone, Ray. Of all the times for him to call.

“Hey Ray,” Felicity answers.

“Felicity, I’ve been thinking about you all night. How about I come over and we can go over my briefs.” Ray chuckles and hiccups into the phone.

“Have you been drinking?” Felicity couldn’t  remember a time he’d ever called her drunk.

“Maybe! Want to join me? We could have a real good time. I want to have a really good time with you baby.”

Felicity looks over at Oliver, he is scowling. Can he hear Ray? Did she want him to be jealous? Could he get jealous? Why would he, they are long ago friends.

“It does not sound like you are up for any time beside bed time.”

“Mmm bed time, I like that sound of that. Will you be beside me?”

Felicity turns away from Oliver.

“We have plans tomorrow night remember. Get some rest Ray.”

“Don’t play hard to get with me Miss Smoak. I know you want it.”

A noise behind her makes her turn around. Oliver is cracking his knuckles. His eyes blaze. She inhales sharply. The phone forgotten in her hand. He moves fast standing in front of her, she steps back, he follows.

“O-Oliver?” her voice quivers. It’s not fear the making her body shake, it’s hormones. He is looking at her with unrestrained lust.

“No one talks to you like that. No one.” Oliver’s voice is a low dangerous rumble.

Felicity can feel his body press against her. He grabs the phone from her hand and ends the call. Gold gelt are on the floor around their feet. He leans in closer. The smell of spices surrounds her sense. Her head falls back surrendering to the moment. Oliver’s hand grazes over her cheek, down her neck. His thumb traces her lips.

“Felicity.” Her name on his lips is a sonnet, a poem she never knew she needed.

“If you kiss me, will you stay?” Felicity’s words slip out. She thought them a thousand nights.

“It’s not a good idea.” The wall slams down between them. Felicity is light headed, she is drunk on his scent. He steps away, she stumbles but refuses to fall.

“Which, kissing me or staying around?” Felicity demands.

“Both,” Oliver shakes his head. His eyes sad.

“Yeah, okay, you are right, this is a mistake. I wish you had stayed gone. Everything was fine before you came back. I knew what I wanted, I knew where I was going. But you come back and mess everything up. You spin me around and flip everything upside down.”

Oliver’s shoulders sag, he takes another step away from her.

“Just keep running 2B, it’s what you do best.” Felicity spins around and storms into her apartment slamming the door.

For an instant she let herself believe. Felicity grabs her cookie jar and the chocolate coins. Ray loves her.  Yes, he was a little off during the phone call - it was in front of Oliver. Everything feels different around Oliver so it only made sense.

…

On the seventh day of Hanukkah my True Love gave to me a candle to light up the dark when we are apart.

A three wick large candle arrives the next day smelling of homemade cookies and cinnamon. How long does Ray think they will be apart, Felicity wonders. She has a rough night tossing and turning. In a few hours the limo will be here to pick her up and she barely has enough energy to shower. Oliver would not ruin another night for her. She puts on her favorite playlist to let the music ease her out of her bad mood.

She removes the blue polish and puts on a dark ruby red. She shaves and lotions her legs. Slides on the dark red lace underwear and matching strapless bra. Tonight if everything goes right she will be showing these off. She curls her hair and leaves it down. Her makeup is dark, her blue eyes startling. Her lips are a long-wear red.

Felicity steps into her shoes and inspects her reflection. Hands on her bare hips, she thinks Oliver would swallow his tongue if he saw her now. Nothing but red pumps and lacy underwear. For a moment she considers knocking on his door and showing him what he is missing.

The thought of Ray being the one to see her tonight seems a little wrong.

Resigning to her choice she pulls on her dress. Grabs her purse and wrap. Before opening the door she hears voices in the hall. Using the peephole she looks out. She sees John Diggle standing in the hall. He is talking to a man in a suit with short hair standing with his back to her door.

“If you’re sure about this then I support you, I’ve been there I understand.” John says to the man.

The other man puts his hand on John’s shoulder.

“Thanks John.”

It’s Oliver in a suit and he got a haircut. She wonders if he’s shaved. Does he look different? Should she open the door show off her dress. Show him she doesn’t care. Before she could decide Oliver is walking away down the stairs and into the night. Felicity wonders what would happen if she chases after him.

Gripping the handle she pulls the door open, and rushes down the stairs. The crisp night is shocking. She tightens her wrap around her. Looking around she doesn’t see Oliver’s truck. Felicity’s chest feels hollow. She is too late.

“You must be really excited about tonight.” Ray Palmer is standing beside a limo. He’s wearing a sharp expensive tuxedo.

Felicity watches as he checks his reflection in the limo window.

“You look great Ray.” Felicity takes heavy steps toward him.

“Thanks, are you ready? Or do you need to fix your hair?” Ray’s eyes skim over her. Taking a deep breath she opens the door of the limo. Ray pops his head in.“Alright, if you’re sure. Scoot over, I’d hate to get my pants dirty.”

Shaking her head, she slides over. Felicity sees a flash of the driver from the rearview mirror. She sees a hint of a clean shaven face before he turns away.

“Driver, we’re ready. What should we do until we get there?” Ray purrs. “I know what you can get me for Christmas.”

He is breathing hot hair on her neck. She leans away, creating space between them. He moves in closer, leaning in for a kiss. The limo breaks hard, Ray slides down off the seat landing on the floor of the car. Felicity resists the urge to laugh. She catches a spark of blue from the driver.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Ray snaps.

“There was a dog in the road,” Felicity explains before the driver can answer. She grabs the champaign. “How about a drink?”

Ray talks, asks about her plans for the Holidays. Asks if her mom is coming for Christmas. It didn’t take long for Felicity to realise there was no way that Ray was her Hanukkah True Love. The more time she spends  with him, the more she knows she has no reason to stay.

“We shouldn’t walk in together, don’t want to give people the wrong idea.” Ray fixes his jacket. “Have the driver take you around the corner and I’ll meet you inside.”

“Yeah, make sure you hold your breath.” She shuts the door on his smug face. “Can you take me home? I don’t belong here.”

“Are you sure? It looks like a beautiful party,” his voice is a little muffled through the half raised partition.

“I’d rather go to Big Belly and get a milkshake.” Felicity sinks into the warm leather seat.

“It would be a waste of an amazing dress.”

“I wore it for the wrong guy.” Felicity looks out the window. She rubs her arms lost in thought.

“Who’s the right guy?” The driver pulls away from the curb.

“Someone I was scared to take a chance on. Someone I should have told years ago how I feel when I’m around him.”

“How do you feel about this someone?”

Felicity drops the wrap. She uncrosses her legs. “How do I feel about him? I feel like ripping his clothes off. I want to know how he tastes, explore his body with my tongue. Most of all, I want him to pull over and join me in the back of this limo.”

Felicity rubs her legs together, her hands drag up and down her thighs. It was the timber of his voice and the shape of his ear. The sense of comfort in his presence. Her heart would know Oliver anywhere.

The limo stops on a vista overlooking the coast. He is out of the car and joining her in the back. They reach for each other and he pulls her into his lap. His large hand cups the back of her neck. Felicity places her hand on his cheek he leans into her warmth.

“I thought I screwed up.” Oliver whispers.

“So did I.” Felicity close the space between them.

He wraps her up into his arms. He holds her close, his hands in her hair. He explores her mouth with his tongue, sucks on her lips. Kissing him takes her breath away, fills her up with molten lava.

They lose track of time in each others arms.

…

Felicity wakes up in Oliver’s bed, alone. The smell of fresh coffee draws her out of bed. She puts on a discarded flannel shirt. She finds him in the kitchen. He is sprinkling powdered sugar on a jelly donut.

“Hey, I was going to surprise you.” Oliver smiles. He leans over the counter to kiss her cheek.

“You made these?” Felicity takes a bite of the warm donut. Her eyes close in pleasure.

“You make that same sound when I kiss you behind the ear.”

“Prove it.” Felicity challenges.

“In a minute, I have something for you.” Oliver walks around her, disappears into his room. He comes back holding a blue box with a silver bow. He sets the box on the counter.

“What’s this?” Felicity laces her fingers through the bow.

“Open it and find out.”

She lifts the lid off the box. Inside is bundle of letters in a ribbon. On top of the buddle there is a note.

On the eighth day of Hanukkah my True Love gave to me his heart.

Felicity looks up at him. Oliver pulls out the bundle and places them in her hands.

“For five hundred forty-seven days I wrote you. Sometimes it was a multiple page letter. Others it was a short message about thinking of you. You were always on my mind. You were the only thing that kept me going. Kept me alive. I held on to every letter you wrote, every silly selfie you sent. I wanted to hand these to you. See your face, when I tell you that you are the love of my life. I love you Felicity.”

Felicity hugs the letters to her chest. Wipes the tears from her eyes.

“I should have known it was you. I sent letters full of my ramblings about my favorites places and things. You are the only person to ever truly see me. You are my true and only love. I love you 2B.”

“I love you 2A.”

[quirkyasfok]

Nothing But Duct Tape and Hope

Relationship: Bichie (Bill x Richie)

Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Bill, Alpha Richie, Mpreg Bill

Summary: It takes three chance meetings, and the presence of a beat up rusted-red Ford for Richie to realize who the omega is.

This is part 1. Part 2 can be found here

Read on AO3

The first time Richie sees the omega he doesn’t think much about him. He’s out with some of his buddies, minding his own business when a familiar scent passes by. It triggers odd images of rickety old bikes, cliffs overlooking a sparkling water hole, and a pair of the most intensive blue eyes he’s ever seen. He turns trying to catch a look at who producing the scent by all he sees is tail end of a tall figure in jeans, and a grey hoodie disappearing behind the corner.

The next time he sees the omega he still doesn’t think much about him. He’s out buying himself a sandwich for dinner on his way home from work. They’d gotten several boxes of new records in today that he had to put away, and he finds himself too tired to bother making himself a meal. It’s the same grey hoodie that catches his eyes this time. A figure sitting outside the deli, their head bent low as they scribble away at a well-used notebook. Their hair is a lovely shade of red and long enough to hide their face from his view. The scent hits him next, but it’s off, different. He briefly wonders what a pregnant omega is doing by themselves sitting in a sidewalk when his order gets called, and for the time forgets all about it.

The third time he sees the omega is when it all finally comes back. He’s walking back to his car when he hears the loud ding as someone’s keys hit the pavement followed by someone cursing loudly. He turns to find the same grey hoodie wearing omega clutching to the side of a beat of red ford pickup as they go to pick up their keys.

And then the memories come flooding back.

He’s sixteen again. His glasses are too large for his face, his socks don’t match, and his jeans are honestly more holes than fabric at this point. Next to him Eddie stares in horror at the rusted-up machine in front of them. On the other side Stan stands looking very unimpressed. Bill is the only one who looks happy. He’s smiling like a loon, gesturing to the beat up old truck like it’s the greatest thing in the entire world.

“Is it safe,” Eddie asks. “I feel like just being around that thing will give me tetanus.” Bill doesn’t let this bother him, he shakes his head and keeps smiling.

“It’s s-ssafe E-eddie. I promise. I even had a mechanic l-look it over before I drove it home. E-everything works.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s safe,” Eddie mutters.

“Who’d you get to look at it? Derry mechanics, or Larry’s auto,” Stan asks. Bill pats the hood, bits of rust fall from the underbelly.

“Larry’s auto.”

Bill’s answer doesn’t seem to make Stan happy. Richie doesn’t blame him. The truck literally looks like it’s on its last wheel… if that.

“I thought for certain you’d go for something a little more silver,” he finally pipes in. Bill laughs and gestures for them to follow him to the back. They do, but all three continue to keep their distance. It hits him the second he sees the only new and good-looking thing on the truck as to how much this vehicle means to Bill. On the back, surrounded by rust is a brand-new license’s plate with the words ‘SILVER2’ written in blocky letters. Bill looks so proud of this that Richie can’t even bring himself to comment on how the truck isn’t even silver, can’t bring himself to make side remarks when it takes a few tries for Bill to get the driver side door open, and can’t bring himself to say no when Bill offers to give all three a ride. 

Somehow all four boys manage to squeeze themselves into the bench seat of the old Ford. It’s a tight squeeze that’s made even more awkward by the fact the trucks a manual, and Bill has to be able to access the clutch as he drives. The truck still smells like whoever Bill’s dad bought the truck from, and lemon cleaning spray that instead of masking the scent seems to just makes things worse.

But none of that bothers him. Not the fact that he’s uncomfortable pressed against Eddie and Bill. Not that the Ford smells like old man and lemons. Not the fact that he’s pretty certain the truck is held together by nothing but hope and duct tape.

No.

 All he cares about is the look Bill gets when he turns the key and SILVER2 somehow roars to life with only a few loud clangs. He decides that as long as this truck keeps Bill smiling like that than it’s the best damn truck he’s ever had the privilege of sitting in.

He comes back to reality feeling like somebody has punched him right in the face. Memory after forgotten memory filling his brain. Pleasant memories of summer filled nights with seven losers laid out in the bed of the old Ford laughing together until the early hour of the morning. Sad memories of saying goodbye, watching the rusted red Ford piled high with junk drive off in the direction opposite of his own.

He’d forgotten. They’d promised to stay in touch. They’d promised to always be friends. Somehow, he’d forgotten them, and it took a rusted red truck to get him to remember.

He walks over to the omega, who’s now fiddling with his key ring to get the key he needs to unlock the vehicle. He thinks for a second that the person before him may not be who he thinks it is, but then a familiar pair of blue eyes peek up seeming to sense someone is watching them. Brown meets blue and Richie swears the whole world stops spinning for a second.

Bill seems lost for a few seconds as he stares Richie. His face blank as he stares uncertainly as some unknown alpha steps into his space, but then Richie can see the moment Bill seems to remember. His eyes light up, and he smiles just like on the day he showed off his “brand new” truck to the rest of the losers. He meets Richie halfway and the two embraces in the middle of the parking lot without a single care in the world.

Bill is still slightly taller and the small swell from his baby bump presses awkwardly into Richie’s stomach, but Richie decides then and there that this is the best hug he’s ever had. He thinks he could hug Bill forever, but a car honks at them to move so he sadly has to let go.

They move to go stand by the old Ford. It’s the same as Richie remember it. Seats made mostly of duct tape, more rust than red, and the radio antenna dented slightly in the middle from the time he tried to slide across the hood.

He laughs at this and runs his hands along the hood of the vehicle.

“How in the hell have you managed to keep this thing running?” Bill laughs.

“The same as when we were younger. S-ssshear hope and duct tape.”

Man, did Richie miss that stutter.

The talk for over two hours. Richie tells Bill about his job at the local record store, the band he’s in, and the weird friends he’s made since leaving for college. Bill talks about graduating college, some of the things he’s written, and one wild story involving him having to seduce someone into getting some free stuff for his buddies (“like B-bev did for us”). He shares the story sounding like he’s surprised it actually worked, which just reminds Richie how cute Bill is. He learns that Bill is exactly six months pregnant. Bill never says anything about another Alpha in his life. Richie never asks. They agree to meet up again in a few days then they go their separate ways.

The next time Richie sees Bill it’s for their intentional meet up. They meet up at Richie’s favorite dinner. They talk mainly about the past, and all the fun times they’ve both started to remember. They even discuss the weirdness of forgetting everything. They never discuss the real cause of what could be behind the amnesia. Even though Richie dreamed of claws and red balloons the night before, and Bill’s stutter seems to be just a degree worse than the last time they met (he also swears it had been completely cured until a few days ago) neither seem up to being the first to bring up the forbidden topic.

He also learns the baby’s a boy. Still nothing about the father.

Throughout the next month they continue to meet. They talk about the past. They talk about the present. They talk about the things they love, the things they hate, and everything in between. The weather gets colder, the seasons change from Fall to Winter. Somehow Bill’s baby bump grows larger.

He learns on their seventh meet up about Bill’s relationship status. He makes an off comment about making Bill’s baby daddy jealous with how much time Bill’s been hanging out with him. Bill gives him a sad smile and shrugs. He explains there is no ‘baby daddy’ in his life.

“It’s just m-me and my truck.”

Richie’s almost annoyed with himself by how happy that makes him.

The fourteenth … or maybe it’s fifteenth time they meet isn’t planned. Richie’s out with his buddies again. Their walking down the sidewalk late on a cold winter night. Their all a bit drunk. It’s been a pretty fun evening so far.

But then he spots a familiar red truck parked near a street lamp. It’s sitting alone in an empty parking lot. He waves for his buddies to keep going and makes his way over to the beat up old Ford. Something about this entire situation feels off, and he’s determined to figure out what’s up. He looks over the truck first. The tarp Bill keeps tied over the bed of the truck is untied in one corner, but other than that there appears to be nothing wrong. There’s a large mound of blankets piled up in the bench of the truck, and when he knocks on the driver side window the lump shifts just slightly before Bill’s head appears from the mound. They blink owlishly at each for a few minutes before Bill seems to snap out of his surprise, and unlocks the passenger door for Richie to climb on in. The inside of the truck is just as cold as the outside air, but the blankets Bill offers him are nice and warm and the inside smells strongly of Bill so he can’t complain too much.

“Bill, why are you sleeping outside in your truck?” His own voice surprises him. It sounds a little too gravely. He feels oddly sober now too.

Bill fiddles with the edge if his blanket. He looks embarrassed. He shrugs.

“It’s like I told you R-richie… it’s just me and my truck.” He gestures for Bill to elaborate. Bill sighs and continues. “A few months ago,… when I found out I was p-p-pregnant… my boyfriend at the time was-sssn’t happy about it. He s-sss-said I should get rid of the baby. That he d-doesn’t want to b-be a father. I refused, so he kicked me out.” Bill pauses to sniffle and wipe at his eyes. Richie scoot closer. “My writing makes decent money b-but not enough for me to live on my o-own, so since getting kicked out I’ve just been driving around. I was honestly just passing through, but then you showed up and….” He shrugs and gestures to space around them. “Here we are….”

“Why didn’t you tell me.”

Bill shrugs again.

“I didn’t want to be a b-b-bother.”

“You’re never a bother Big Bill.” He pulls Bill close and hugs him tight. It’s a bit awkward with the space and Bill’s belly but they make it work.

“God Bill your fucking freezing. Why the hell don’t you at least have the heat on.”

“H-heat doesn’t work.”

He lets go of Bill to take the keys off the dash, and puts them in the ignition. The truck sputters a bit before finally roaring to life just as Richie remembered. Bill seems surprised when Richie messes with the radio and it comes to life too.

“The radio hasn’t worked in years.”

Richie just smirks and winks at him.

“Guess it just missed me.”

Bill snorts and rolls his eyes. Even in the dim light Richie can see the tear marks on his cheeks, but he’s smiling softly.

The heat doesn’t magically work, but Richie figures that’s a problem for another day. He convinces Bill to drive them out of the parking lot, and directs him towards the apartment he shares with his roommate.

“Are you sure your roommate won’t mind me spending the night.”

“Yes Bill, and even if he did I wouldn’t give a shit.”

He leads Bill up the stairway. Bill seems a bit uncertain, but Richie fills the silence with shitty jokes that gets Bill giggling. He apologies for the messy state of the apartment, Bill says he doesn’t mind, Richie make sure to keep a hand on Bill’s back as the fumble around in the dark to make sure he doesn’t trip over anything. He leads Bill into his room and shuts the door. He tugs Bill into his bed, and rubs the omega all over trying to breath warmth back into frozen limbs. Bill giggles and squirms when Richie ‘accidently’ rubs at his sides. He feels the baby kick against his palm. Bill flushes a bit. Richie stares at him amazed. They fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Another month passes. Richie can’t believe how time has flown. Bill is eighth months, and looks ready to pop. Currently he’s asleep on the couch, cuddled up close against Riche’s side. The grey hoodie is long gone, and now Bill is wearing a lovely blue sweater. There’s a notebook resting on his belly, and a pencil loosely held in his slack grip. Richie leans over to give him a kiss on the cheek, and takes the pencil and notebook away.

Things aren’t easy. The baby’s due date is coming up, and neither are as prepared as they want to be. Bill still seems upset about dragging Richie into his baby drama, but Richie continues to tell him that it’s all okay. It’s odd how much he doesn’t seem to mind that the baby isn’t his by blood. The idea of helping Bill raise a child pleases him in a way he doesn’t fully understand, but has come to embrace with open arms.

They still don’t talk about the dark parts of their pasts either. They don’t talk about the months Bill spent living alone in his truck, or the images of bright red balloons that seem to fill both their nightmares.

They’ll probably have to talk about it someday, but not yet.

No, for now Richie has more important things to focus on. He looks back down to the newspaper in his lap, and continues to read the ad for the house for sale off Fillmore Street. It’s a bit above their price range, but he figures is he takes a few extra shifts at the record store they just be able to pull that one off. He smiles and circles the ad with a bright red marker. Next to him Bill smiles pleased in his sleep.

Richie wouldn’t have things any other way.

[dmsden]

A Few of My Favorite Things

Hullo, gentle readers. Once more into the Den! This time, our article idea comes from Tumblr’s own @FatherFlesh, who suggests, “Maybe some of your personal favorite events or characters you experienced as a DM?”

I’ve been DMing for 38 years, so I have many, many favorite stories, but I will try to keep it to article length.

One of my favorite things as a DM is when I get surprised. Since it’s my world, and I know all the behind-the-scenes type information, getting surprised by an element of the campaign usually comes at the hands of the players. Luckily, I’ve been blessed with many great players over the years, and they’ve thrown plenty of surprises my way.

My husband, in particular, has a penchant for coming up with solutions I never considered for a problem. I gave the example a few articles ago of his wizard who wished his alternate reality self to become real in his own timeline, so that they didn’t have to duel each other to determine who’s reality would win out. I wrote a scenario once where the players were supposed to kill some renegade duergar to make a temple safe for Asmodeus to take it over (a favor owed to the archdevil by the party’s Warlock). Once they had wiped out the duergar, my husband’s cleric called in a divine favor to consecrate the temple to his goddess instead. That threw a crazy monkey-wrench into things, and the very lawful evil Asmodeus couldn’t argue that they had fulfilled the letter of what he had asked. Well played, o my husband.

My friend Neil, who sadly now lives several hours from my house, was also excellent at surprising me. A number of surprises came to me thanks to his character Mundunugu Nobuanga Snakedancer, a wild mage he played many years ago in one of my early D&D campaigns. His willingness to wild surge spells always made for some pretty intriguing results. One time, a wild surge he cast created two snakes, “I am a father!” he cried in delight, and he caught the snakes, training them to hunt mice on their spelljammer ship.

After one long hiatus away from their ship, I thought it would be funny to give him a surprise, so I described a number of smaller snakes slithering around when they boarded. “I am a grandfather!” he cried, and he began to capture and name the snakes things like Umbuntu-Ung the Strong and Rekuru the Wise. When one of the other players revealed he had caught and concealed one of the snakes, Neil stared at him in shock. “Why have you…? He is Lo-Tubtub the Hidden!” He said it without missing a beat, cracking us all up. It was one of those golden RP moments that you get once in a blue moon.

I also enjoy it when I surprise myself. While running a LARP, I played an entity called the Gourmand, who had vast stores of information. The players were asking for the location of Hargrimm Djal, an evil NPC from the campaign. In a flash of inspiration, I said to them, “You don’t want to know that…that could change tomorrow. What you *should* ask is, what is the threat he represents?” They mused and agreed, and, once they’d fulfilled our bargain, I revealed that he had essentially a psychic neutron bomb. It would leave every physical structure alone, but everything would be lobotomized, perfect for Djal to make into his undead army. The looks of horror on their faces was marvelous.

The thing was, I’d just made that up, virtually on the fly. But, based on what I knew of Djal, his resources, and certain things that existed in the campaign, it made total sense. Of course, then I had to go back to the rest of our plot team and explain. Luckily, everyone loved it, and that was the big threat of the ending of the campaign.

Another thing I love is when the players put together the pieces of elements of my campaign and figure something out. When they realize that the reason the sentient elven ship they fly in shares a name with the dead daughter of the elven king, it’s because her soul is housed within it. When they realize that the “White Lady” referred to by several different cults is actually the paladin’s cousin, a fallen cleric. Or when they realize that the reason the dark elf ranger in the party’s skin is slowly turning less dark is because ALL elves were dark elves once, and only removal from the Underdark’s peculiar radiation changed their skin color over time. These are all mysteries from various campaigns I’ve run that the players worked out, and it was so satisfying to see.

Another thing I love is when the players figure out something entirely wrong, but what they come up with is so compelling that I decide to change the plot to match what they’ve come up with, because I like it better. A villain in my 3.5 campaign was a vampire sorcerer who rode a black dragon. “Something’s up with that,” my husband said. “Dragons wouldn’t just be servile to anything, even a vampire. It’s probably in his thrall or something.” This led to me deciding exactly that, which allowed the players to help free the dragon, thus gaining an ally against a powerful foe.

As far as favorite characters, there are too many to name, both NPC and PC. I loved Eleniel, the childlike sentient elven spelljammer ship of my 3.5 campaign. I love Flishbok Shablehathy, the garrulous gnome cook, and his tight-lighted human friend Winther, to whom he ascribes all kinds of pithy wisdom, but who only seems to grunt. I love the Halfling tavernkeep Brandy Quietstreams and Drog, the good-natured half-orc bouncer, who have a deeper relationship than seems obvious on the surface. Outside of D&D, some favorite characters include Will deCanta, the barkeep bard who was secretly toting a gun and who had a degree in quantum mechanics, and his reincarnation into the spirit world, Cantus the Storyteller. So many characters past and future have special places in my heart.

All of the stories from my various campaigns feel like a myth-cycle that no one fully knows but me, but I do love sharing them with players and friends. I hope you’re making favorite memories in your own campaigns. I’d love to hear about them.

[thecutofmylove]

When You're High

Sad Alex Turner for my anon who requested

It was a warm Friday night. The sun had just begun to set over the tops of the buildings in the west, painting a pink and orange tinge across the sky as a sort of backdrop for the city. The top of the city was lifeless but down below, the concrete jungle was thrumming with life. The store windows were illuminated with neon lights and signs. The corner store with a small flickering ‘open sign’ caught your attention first before the array of color coming from a bar below. Several signs littered the windows, advertising music, alcohol, and darts inside. The other shops along with the corner store and the pub, like the tattoo parlor, the small tourist attraction, and the auto repair were casting a messy rainbow of colors onto the sidewalk while the street lamps rained a muddy brown onto the busy asphalt. People came and went beneath these lights, entering shops and clubs as the time crawled by while others climbed into taxi cabs in rout to apartment buildings and the motel six around the corner. There seemed to be no pattern to the way they all moved; not in masses and not alone. Each moving dot below had it’s own destination.

A clock displayed a dull red glow from the other side of your room. The empty apartment was partially illuminated from the light trickling in beneath the front door and you could barely hear what sounded like the murmurs of arguing from the room next door. It was an odd time for the neighbors to begin their scuffles since it was barely eleven o'clock. Most of the building’s inhabitants were awake, more than likely, and would surely give any loud occupants a piece of their minds.

You couldn’t make out what they seemed to be arguing about but you couldn’t stop yourself from comparing. It was uncanny how similar they sounded to you and Alex when he used to come home from a night of drunken escapades or when he used to call your phone nonstop at the earliest hours of the morning. They weren’t fond memories but you couldn’t prevent your mind from rolling over the usual events, or rather, what used to be the usual events.

You knew before his drinking had gotten bad that Alex was on a downward spiral. It started with weekends out, seemingly harmless until he would stumble through the door long after the sun’s gone down and trudge up the stairs to wake you from sleep. It was the same argument and the outcome each time; you would leave your shared bedroom and stomp downstairs to the bathroom where you would cry because even though his words may have been faulty, the pain was real. You would fall asleep after what felt like hours and you would clean yourself in the mirror the next morning. Alex would wake with little to no memory of what happened, he would apologize with roses or chocolates or whatever seemed fit, and you would go about the week acting as if nothing had happened.

After a couple months the drinking had escalated to every night. He would disappear for countless hours without a trace, still returning in the early morning hours, still stomping up the stairs, and still screaming but his argument intensified into wild accusations of you cheating.

Over the first few months you’d had plenty of time to swallow your pride, and so you would roll over and shut your eyes tightly, keeping a steady breath until Alex would finally give up and stumble out of the room. For those months it was him sleeping on the couch and cleaning himself up in the morning. He never stopped apologizing, but enough time had passed and his apologies began to mean very little until eventually they meant nothing at all. They became dead roses, melted chocolate, and breathy slurs.

You kept telling yourself you could salvage something and that your relationship was still manageable, but after the drinking came the drugs and you weren’t sure you could take it anymore. His friends hadn’t noticed or hadn’t bothered to bring it to Alex’s attention, but he was becoming a shell of his former self. The nightly bar trips turned into a few beers and a rail of coke which Alex never lied about. He was truthful when you accused him of using drugs, he would just decline to state which ones.

It was during those drug filled months that you had stopped sleeping in your bedroom. You’d begun leaving after dinner and only returning in the morning when Alex was sober. He neglected to ask you where you’d run off to, because surely he’d noticed coming home to an empty bed, much less an empty house and you neglected to talk about it. And so, your interactions became few and far between. His touch was cold, his kisses felt hollow, the sex was meaningless, and he’d stopped telling you he loved you. Occasionally he would take you out during the day, usually to a diner and rarely would he ever take you anywhere else. It was because of this growing oddity that you began to doubt your relationship, and ultimately after you considered the options you decided it was never going to be okay. Alex was falling apart and he was dragging you down with him. It was inevitable, you had to leave and when you did Alex wasn’t there.

You had packed only your clothes into a small suitcase, leaving the rest of your belongings behind because you couldn’t bear to have the emotional attachment to who Alex used to be weighing your thoughts down. You took what money you’d managed to save and you moved into an apartment on the other side of town; no forwarding address, no goodbye letter, no attachments.

After you paid the first month in full you tried to rekindle your friendships but Alex had permanently severed ties and burned far too many bridges for you to count. Nobody wanted to speak to you and nobody was there to console you. You grew lonely in every sense of the word.

Sometimes, on nights similar to tonight when you were watching the people on the streets below, you thought you’d seen him walking. Each time you would feel a cold shiver down your spine and an intense stinging behind your eyes, but tonight was quiet. The people you watched showed no familiarity and showed no interest in the other bodies moving along.

You could hear your phone buzzing for the fourth time in a short span of time but you hadn’t found a reason to leave your seat on the windowsill. You ignored the message tone and continued watching. At least, you had tried. Even simple actions such as watching strangers on the sidewalk below reminded you of him. Despite your efforts to erase him from your life entirely, Alex continued to find his way back in both directly and indirectly.

It was a week ago when you saw him last. You were walking home from your favorite cafe and he had come from the smoke shop a few buildings down. Just as you walked in front, Alex had exited with his face buried in his hands and his eyes concentrating on the flame that licked at the end of his cigarette. He was maybe three feet in front of you, standing casually after not seeing him at all for what felt like years but had really only been three months. You’d thrown yourself into a state of panic and you remembered turning sharply on your heals and ducking in front of a man carrying a briefcase long enough to drape your scarf over your head. Fortunately you had made a clean getaway, but you couldn’t stop thinking about what may have happened if Alex hadn’t been so preoccupied. Would he have spoke? Would he have apologized?

Another pattern of frantic vibrating sounded from atop your nightstand. You tore your eyes away from the street and looked over to the bright light coming from the screen of your cell phone. You looked to the clock next, but the numbers appeared fuzzy. You wiped at your eyes with the heels of your hands and it was then that you realized you’d been crying. You felt stupid for having cried without remembering, but you weren’t going to think about it. You couldn’t afford to.

You inhaled deeply though your nose and finished drying your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt. You couldn’t allow yourself to be upset by him anymore, you didn’t deserve that. So you wiped the tears from your hands on to your jeans and hastily pushed yourself from the windowsill to see who had been trying so hard to reach you.

Your heart dropped into your stomach when you saw the number you’d been trying so hard to forget for months. Alex was trying desperately to reach you.

-You up?

-Where are you?

-I wanna see you

-Why no answer?

-Text me so I know you’re ok

There were seventeen messages total but you couldn’t bring yourself to read any more. You had been working so hard these past few months to put everything behind you and to try and forget the year your relationship went sour, but here was Alex worming his way back into your life. It didn’t make sense. Why would he wait and why didn’t he chase you months ago?

You felt the burning behind your eyes growing and the threat of spilling tears became imminent as more messages rang through. Your phone vibrated four more times in your hand before you began to fill in the blanks. You didn’t need to read those messages to figure it out; Alex was drinking.

From the messages you did read, he didn’t seem like the same person you left and you wanted so badly to hold on to that sliver of hope. You wanted to call him and tell him that you’re safe and that you’ve been living in an apartment of your own. You wanted to tell him that you saw him a week ago, and that he looked good. You didn’t want to believe he was still using because you so desperately wanted the old Alex back; the gentleman you met at a local concert before he began the decent into despair, but you couldn’t. Somewhere in the back of your mind that little voice that told you to leave months ago was resurfacing. It was screaming for you to keep running-

More ringing and another message.

-I’m sorry

As the last message popped into your screen your eyes happened to catch the previous two unintentionally;

-Can we talk?

-Please?

A part of you, nearly all of you wanted to say yes; the same part of you that held on to hope that entire year because​ you couldn’t stop wishing for Alex to get help. You never stopped missing him, but it wasn’t the same person. He would never be the same Alex you fell in love with and no matter how badly you wanted, things would never be as they were because he was now the Alex who made you fall out of love and move out of your own house. He was the Alex that woke you up for an entire year screaming at you and accusing you of cheating with a different man each time. Alex may have been the man that once tied your stomach in knots and made your entire body tingle, but he was now the man that caused tears to spill from your eyes and a pit to form in your same stomach.

Your phone vibrated again, but this time you willed yourself not to look. So you turned it upside down and placed it on top of your nightstand, and you crawled into bed beneath the cold sheets, trying to generate enough warmth to get you through another night alone.

[inloveandwords]

The Buzzword Readathon starts on Monday and I’m SO ready.

OK, maybe not SO ready, but kind of ready and also nervous because I have a lot of physical books on my list and only one audio. Finding time to sit down and read a physical book is always a challenge for me, but that’s the whole point right?

If you’d rather watch this TBR and rec, check out my video here:

Otherwise, keep reading!

Buzzword Readathon TBR

The Girl Who Drank the Moon by Kelly Barnhill

Every year, the people of the Protectorate leave a baby as an offering to the witch who lives in the forest. They hope this sacrifice will keep her from terrorizing their town. But the witch in the forest, Xan, is kind and gentle. She shares her home with a wise Swamp Monster named Glerk and a Perfectly Tiny Dragon, Fyrian. Xan rescues the abandoned children and deliver them to welcoming families on the other side of the forest, nourishing the babies with starlight on the journey.

One year, Xan accidentally feeds a baby moonlight instead of starlight, filling the ordinary child with extraordinary magic. Xan decides she must raise this enmagicked girl, whom she calls Luna, as her own. To keep young Luna safe from her own unwieldy power, Xan locks her magic deep inside her. When Luna approaches her thirteenth birthday, her magic begins to emerge on schedule–but Xan is far away. Meanwhile, a young man from the Protectorate is determined to free his people by killing the witch. Soon, it is up to Luna to protect those who have protected her–even if it means the end of the loving, safe world she’s always known.

What if it’s Us by Becky Albertalli & Adam Silvera

Arthur is only in New York for the summer, but if Broadway has taught him anything, it’s that the universe can deliver a showstopping romance when you least expect it.

Ben thinks the universe needs to mind its business. If the universe had his back, he wouldn’t be on his way to the post office carrying a box of his ex-boyfriend’s things.

But when Arthur and Ben meet-cute at the post office, what exactly does the universe have in store for them?

Maybe nothing. After all, they get separated.

Maybe everything. After all, they get reunited.

But what if they can’t quite nail a first date . . . or a second first date . . . or a third?

What if Arthur tries too hard to make it work . . . and Ben doesn’t try hard enough?

What if life really isn’t like a Broadway play?

But what if it is?

Anywhere but Here by Stephanie Hoffman McManus

Seven years ago, I left Conway, South Carolina swearing I would never go back. I put that town in my rearview and didn’t stop until there were several hundred miles between me and the memories I wanted to leave behind. But you can’t outrun your own heart. The past always comes back, and it didn’t matter how far I went, I couldn’t erase the mark he left. I’d never met anyone like Kellen Nash before. He made me feel so . . . alive. Until I made the mistake of falling in love with him. I spent seven years trying to forget only to be forced to come face to face with him again. I wasn’t prepared for old wounds to be reopened or for him to still have this effect on me. He nearly broke me once. I won’t give him the chance to do it again, even if he does still look at me like he can see everything I keep hidden inside. There’s too much history between us, like the North and the South, to forgive and forget so easily, but the longer I’m back, the more I start to question what really happened then, and the more I worry about what will happen if he discovers my biggest secret.

At seventeen she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, and not at all what I expected. A girl like her didn’t belong with a guy like me, but that didn’t stop me from wanting her, or breaking her heart. I never thought I’d see her again, but she’s back. Only she isn’t the girl I knew. In her place is an angry spitfire even more gorgeous than I remember, and she’s determined to take all that anger out on me. I’ve spent seven years missing her, living with the regret of letting her go, and when I start to catch glimpses of the girl I loved, I realize it’s never too late. Or is it?

When Dimple Met Rishi by Sandhya Menon

Dimple Shah has it all figured out. With graduation behind her, she’s more than ready for a break from her family, from Mamma’s inexplicable obsession with her finding the “Ideal Indian Husband.” Ugh. Dimple knows they must respect her principles on some level, though. If they truly believed she needed a husband right now, they wouldn’t have paid for her to attend a summer program for aspiring web developers…right?

Rishi Patel is a hopeless romantic. So when his parents tell him that his future wife will be attending the same summer program as him—wherein he’ll have to woo her—he’s totally on board. Because as silly as it sounds to most people in his life, Rishi wants to be arranged, believes in the power of tradition, stability, and being a part of something much bigger than himself.

The Shahs and Patels didn’t mean to start turning the wheels on this “suggested arrangement” so early in their children’s lives, but when they noticed them both gravitate toward the same summer program, they figured, Why not?

Dimple and Rishi may think they have each other figured out. But when opposites clash, love works hard to prove itself in the most unexpected ways.

Why We Broke Up by Daniel Handler

Min Green and Ed Slaterton are breaking up, so Min is writing Ed a letter and giving him a box. Inside the box is why they broke up. Two bottle caps, a movie ticket, a folded note, a box of matches, a protractor, books, a toy truck, a pair of ugly earrings, a comb from a motel room, and every other item collected over the course of a giddy, intimate, heartbreaking relationship. Item after item is illustrated and accounted for, and then the box, like a girlfriend, will be dumped.

Roar by Stacy Sims

Women are not small men. Stop eating and training like one.

Because most nutrition products and training plans are designed for men, it’s no wonder that so many female athletes struggle to reach their full potential. ROAR is a comprehensive, physiology-based nutrition and training guide specifically designed for active women. This book teaches you everything you need to know to adapt your nutrition, hydration, and training to your unique physiology so you can work with, rather than against, your female physiology. Exercise physiologist and nutrition scientist Stacy T. Sims, PhD, shows you how to be your own biohacker to achieve optimum athletic performance.

Complete with goal-specific meal plans and nutrient-packed recipes to optimize body composition, ROAR contains personalized nutrition advice for all stages of training and recovery. Customizable meal plans and strengthening exercises come together in a comprehensive plan to build a rock-solid fitness foundation as you build lean muscle where you need it most, strengthen bone, and boost power and endurance. Because women’s physiology changes over time, entire chapters are devoted to staying strong and active through pregnancy and menopause. No matter what your sport is—running, cycling, field sports, triathlons—this book will empower you with the nutrition and fitness knowledge you need to be in the healthiest, fittest, strongest shape of your life.

♥ ♥ ♥

Buzzword Readathon Recs from my Bookshelf

Hideous Love by Stephanie Hemphill

An all-consuming love affair.

A family torn apart by scandal.

A young author on the brink of greatness.

Hideous Love is the fascinating story of Gothic novelist Mary Shelley, who as a teen girl fled her restrictive home only to find herself in the shadow of a brilliant but moody boyfriend, famed poet Percy Shelley. It is the story of the mastermind behind one of the most iconic figures in all of literature: a monster constructed out of dead bodies and brought to life by the tragic Dr. Frankenstein.

Mary wrote Frankenstein at the age of nineteen, but inspiration for the monster came from her life-the atmospheric European settings she visited, the dramas swirling around her, and the stimulating philosophical discussions with the greatest minds of the period, like her close friend, Lord Byron.

This luminous verse novel from award-winning author Stephanie Hemphill reveals how Mary Shelley became one of the most celebrated authors in history.

What I Thought Was True by Huntley Fitzpatrick

Gwen Castle has never so badly wanted to say good-bye to her island home till now: the summer her Biggest Mistake Ever, Cassidy Somers, takes a job there as the local yard boy. He’s a rich kid from across the bridge in Stony Bay, and she hails from a family of fishermen and housecleaners who keep the island’s summer people happy. Gwen worries a life of cleaning houses will be her fate too, but just when it looks like she’ll never escape her past—or the island—Gwen’s dad gives her some shocking advice. Sparks fly and secret histories unspool as Gwen spends a gorgeous, restless summer struggling to resolve what she thought was true—about the place she lives, the people she loves, and even herself—with what really is.

Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng

Everyone in Shaker Heights was talking about it that summer: how Isabelle, the last of the Richardson children, had finally gone around the bend and burned the house down.

In Shaker Heights, a placid, progressive suburb of Cleveland, everything is meticulously planned – from the layout of the winding roads, to the colours of the houses, to the successful lives its residents will go on to lead. And no one embodies this spirit more than Elena Richardson, whose guiding principle is playing by the rules.

Enter Mia Warren – an enigmatic artist and single mother – who arrives in this idyllic bubble with her teenage daughter Pearl, and rents a house from the Richardsons. Soon Mia and Pearl become more than just tenants: all four Richardson children are drawn to the alluring mother-daughter pair. But Mia carries with her a mysterious past, and a disregard for the rules that threatens to upend this carefully ordered community.

When the Richardsons’ friends attempt to adopt a Chinese-American baby, a custody battle erupts that dramatically divides the town and puts Mia and Mrs. Richardson on opposing sides. Suspicious of Mia and her motives, Mrs. Richardson becomes determined to uncover the secrets in Mia’s past. But her obsession will come at unexpected and devastating costs to her own family – and Mia’s.

Little Fires Everywhere explores the weight of long-held secrets and the ferocious pull of motherhood-and the danger of believing that planning and following the rules can avert disaster, or heartbreak.

When the Moon Was Ours by Anna-Marie McLemore

To everyone who knows them, best friends Miel and Sam are as strange as they are inseparable. Roses grow out of Miel’s wrist, and rumors say that she spilled out of a water tower when she was five. Sam is known for the moons he paints and hangs in the trees, and for how little anyone knows about his life before he and his mother moved to town. But as odd as everyone considers Miel and Sam, even they stay away from the Bonner girls, four beautiful sisters rumored to be witches. Now they want the roses that grow from Miel’s skin, convinced that their scent can make anyone fall in love. And they’re willing to use every secret Miel has fought to protect to make sure she gives them up.

How to Find Love in a Bookshop by Veronica Henry

The enchanting story of a bookshop, its grieving owner, a supportive literary community, and the extraordinary power of books to heal the heart

Nightingale Books, nestled on the main street in an idyllic little village, is a dream come true for book lovers–a cozy haven and welcoming getaway for the literary-minded locals. But owner Emilia Nightingale is struggling to keep the shop open after her beloved father’s death, and the temptation to sell is getting stronger. The property developers are circling, yet Emilia’s loyal customers have become like family, and she can’t imagine breaking the promise she made to her father to keep the store alive.

There’s Sarah, owner of the stately Peasebrook Manor, who has used the bookshop as an escape in the past few years, but it now seems there’s a very specific reason for all those frequent visits. Next is roguish Jackson, who, after making a complete mess of his marriage, now looks to Emilia for advice on books for the son he misses so much. And the forever shy Thomasina, who runs a pop-up restaurant for two in her tiny cottage–she has a crush on a man she met in the cookbook section, but can hardly dream of working up the courage to admit her true feelings.

Enter the world of Nightingale Books for a serving of romance, long-held secrets, and unexpected hopes for the future–and not just within the pages on the shelves. How to Find Love in a Bookshop is the delightful story of Emilia, the unforgettable cast of customers whose lives she has touched, and the books they all cherish.

♥ ♥ ♥

Buzzword Readathon Recs I’ve Read

Atheists Who Kneel and Pray by Tarryn Fisher

Yara Phillips is a wandering muse.

She dates men who need her, but always moves on to something new, never staying in one place for very long.

David Lisey is in need of a muse.

A talented musician lacking lyrical inspiration. When he first sees her, he knows he’s found what he’s been looking for.

Yara believes she can give David exactly what he needs to reach his full potential: A broken heart.

David’s religion is love.

Yara’s religion is heartache.

Neither is willing to surrender, but religion always requires sacrifice.

The Sky is Everywhere by Jandy Nelson

Adrift after her sister Bailey’s sudden death, Lennie finds herself torn between quiet, seductive Toby—Bailey’s boyfriend who shares her grief—and Joe, the new boy in town who bursts with life and musical genius. Each offers Lennie something she desperately needs… though she knows if the two of them collide her whole world will explode.

Join Lennie on this heartbreaking and hilarious journey of profound sorrow and mad love, as she makes colossal mistakes and colossal discoveries, as she traipses through band rooms and forest bedrooms and ultimately right into your heart.

As much a celebration of love as a poignant portrait of loss, Lennie’s struggle to sort her own melody out of the noise around her is always honest, often uproarious, and absolutely unforgettable.

Where the Silence Gathers by Kelsey Sutton

In this companion novel to the critically acclaimed Some Quiet Place, Alex must choose between Revenge and Forgiveness.

For as long as she can remember, Alexandra Tate has been able to see personified Emotions, and she’s found a best friend in Revenge. He’s her constant companion as she waits outside Nate Foster’s house, clutching a gun. Every night since Nate’s release from prison, Alex has tried to work up the courage to exact her own justice on him for the drunk driving accident that killed her family.

But there’s one problem: Forgiveness. When he appears, Alex is faced with a choice—moving on or getting even. It’s impossible to decide with Forgiveness whispering in one ear . . . and Revenge whispering in the other.

Buzzword Readathon TBR & Recs! + {New Video} The Buzzword Readathon starts on Monday and I'm SO ready. OK, maybe not SO ready, but kind of ready and also nervous because I have a lot of physical books on my list and only one audio.

[arushisachdeva31]

She Gave Me Wings

Dear Mom,

This is the first time in 25 years that we’re not together on all important occasions and festivals- our birthday’s, Diwali, holi, kanjak, janamashtami, father’s day, and mother’s day. I don’t think I realized the value of being with you on all these days until now. Being far away has made me realize what I am missing out on now. Hope you had a great day. I’m glad at least one of us was with you today. Thank you Adit for not being useless! I’m kidding :P

Mom, you and dad have made us who we are today. Thank you for showering us with your love, affection, care, patience, kindness, scary eyes, and just about all the emotions I fail to describe in words right now (Yes, I have limited vocabulary). You have taught us how to be independent and face challenges. When we struggle, we don’t think twice before calling you up. Thank you for always being available and helping us deal with everything sitting miles away. Sometimes I crave a hug from you so much. I wish I could just lie down on the extremely comfortable sofa in the family room and keep my head on your lap and just watch TV. Only I know how much I miss all those moments now.

We’ve been bad sometimes. But all kids are bad. We haven’t been awful though! Sometimes maybe. Sorry we lied to you about studying and ran to our rooms when we heard your car back up outside the house. Haha! Thank you for putting up with all those things we’ve done and helping us become better human beings. It’s because of you I’m able to walk out confidently knowing I’m not a bad person. Thank you for helping me become who I am. I have reached this far in my life only because of your support and your belief in me. Thank you for everything mom. You are the reason I’m living my dream today despite paying the price of not having you, dad and ady around physically all the time. Irrespective, just knowing that you’re always there for me and have my back, I sleep (whenever I do, stupid insomnia!) peacefully at night. You have always stood by me, always lent an ear to my arguments and problems, no matter how trivial they might seem and how busy you may be. 

Thank you mom for always attempting to keep us happy, safe, and protected.  Thank you for looking out for us even when we didn't think we needed it and for letting us fall when we had to learn by making our own mistakes. 

I live alone mom. Miles away from you, dad and Ady. I miss you a lot. I tried to do up my house just like you would do it. When you visited me, you have no idea how I felt. Everything seemed perfect. The way you decorated the flowers, fixed the few things I did, cooked so much food and froze it so that when you’re not there, I have food to eat, and just everything else. Thank you for being so wonderful. I don’t think there’s anyone else like you. You’ve taught us so much.

I remember that first letter you wrote to me when I was 17. I will never forget that letter. In such an amazing way you communicated your feelings and made me realize where I went wrong. I remember the impact that letter had on my life and how I transformed. You’re absolutely amazing. I wish I had a knack with words like you do! They work like magic. I just want to thank you and acknowledge all those years you’ve spent nurturing Adit and me with all the love, care and well deserved scoldings. It’s unbelievable how “1, 2, anddd…3” still works on us. I’m 25! And I’m dying to know the consequence if we don’t listen to you! Ughh.

You work like a super human, multitasking all the time! It’s crazy how you manage work, us, and your health, all at the same time. Mom, your health always worries me. I just hope you always remain healthy because I haven’t seen anyone as dedicated as you to actually take such good care of yourself. I hate that you have to go through so much. I don’t know how you manage all the workouts and yoga and gardening, and family, and office and dad and us! But, you always calm my anxieties by saying that this is what makes you feel alive everyday. I remember as a child when you would scold me and I’d be upset especially when my punishment involved counting backwards from 50 in the bathroom without crying. But as I reached adulthood, I realized that all that scolding and nagging was to make a better person out of me. You have always been my best friend and guide, whispering into my ears words of wisdom and encouragement. It is because of you that I have always felt so secure and was always ensured that if ever I was to take a wrong decision in life, you would be there to bring me back. It is your confidence and hopefulness that always gave me the encouragement and confidence to go on in life. 

Thank you for making my favourite dishes and watch me eat and relish every bite. It’s true I bake better cakes than you but let’s be honest, I learnt it from you :P

I want you to know that you mean the world to me! I don’t know what I would do without you. Sharing and your honest opinion about everything throughout have taught me so many precious lessons about life. You have made me the person I am today, professionally and personally. Thank you for being my friend, my supporter, counselor, savior, cook, doctor, dreamer, encourager, and the pillar that always stood by me through thick and thin. It wouldn’t surprise me if you sometimes feel under-appreciated and over-worked. But you are the first person I have always called my whole life, to celebrate or to cry.

Mom, just know, Adit and I always have each other. Whatever we have learnt, we have learnt from you. We have seen you go through so much in life. Managing and sustaining relationships is a skill we’ve learnt from you. We have seen you be an amazing daughter, wife, sister, chachi, masi, bua, but most of all, seen you be the best mother. I assure you, Adit and I will always have each other. I promise.

You taught us to be honest, appreciative and loving. Thank you for teaching me to be neat and tidy, and now it’s resulted in OCD :P Haha! Thank you for teaching me to try to see the best in people. You have instilled in me a love for people, travel, flowers, dance, food, and so many other things. 

Thank you for the thousands of time you took care of me when I was sick. Till date when I fall sick, I think of the time you would make tave wala toast with adrak tulsi chai. I miss you mom. Thank you for the everyday phone calls and always making sure everything is right. Still, to this day, you spoil me and I am extremely grateful for it. 

Thank you for the endless stories, songs, hanuman chalisa, and games when I was young, and the endless conversations and support now that I am older. Thank you for putting up with my fish crawl, my know-it-all teenage years, and my sometimes insane emotional roller coasters currently. Life has been difficult and there have been times when I've felt like giving up, when things were not going my way. Each time, you were there to remind me of my worth as a human being. Just trust me, everything is fine, because of YOU. You have always been there. I know I can pick up the phone and call you, even if I have to call your phone, papa, the landline or on the magic jack. You have waited and been worried and had endless concerns. Yet, you put up with everything! Thank you for the limitless hugs, kisses, and for the support I receive from you every single day. I know you tell me I’m adopted but I know I am TRULY YOURS. As I get older, I realize more and more how much you have done for me and continue to do every day. Although I am growing into my own person, I will always need you.

I have always said that I want to raise my children exactly the way I was raised. But then again I don’t think they’ll be as cute and awesome as me :P Your children have turned out pretty great last time I checked. I pray that I can be the example that you have been to us. I love you maa, thank you for sacrificing so much for me. Our walks (rare :P), tears, grocery store trips, and chai/wine sessions are never taken for granted and are some of my favorite memories.

You’re a role model mom. I cannot thank you and dad enough for being who you have been to us. For giving us everything and teaching us so many things in life. Many mothers and daughters do not have the kind of relationship we share, and I always feel really lucky.

Most people tell me I’m so much you. I feel so good when I hear that. I’ve always aspired to be just like you and each time someone says, “Arushi, you’re so much like your mother”, I feel wonderful! I love that we can talk about anything and have crazy laughs. Mom, I will protect you as you protect me. I will have your back like you’ve had mine, and I will always be your not-so-small-me!

You are amazing. You’re smart, beautiful, wise and so talented. It's nice to know that I have the potential somewhere in my genes to probably one day be as awesome as you. You’re my expert-in-everything, and my very best friend. 

Through all these years and many more to come, you have taught me how to be me. Although, even today, when I see “11:11”, I always make a wish that I could stay under your wings a little longer! Mom, I love you, and no words are enough to explain my love for you.

I miss your early morning angry look when Adit and I don’t wake up early and you just walk into our room, give us “that” look and leave. Haha! I Love You. I miss that you would take out the lizards from my room. I miss eating kadi chawal and tori and baked potatoes, and all the things you’ve ever cooked! I even miss the times you forcefully made me watch Aahat :/ I miss you mom. You’re too far away and I’m crying now. I love you – it doesn’t get said often.

Love,

Arushi

P.S. Stop crying!! Call me now. <3