#oh wait the playlist says last updated 3 days ago so

[planetquest]

clearly something has gone wrong with my apple music year in review playlist because en garde isnt on it

[sublimecatgalaxy]

la vie en rose- Part 4 (of many)

-Pairing: Fezco (Euphoria) x reader (eventually); Elliot (Euphoria) x reader

-Summary: Reader and Elliot have a minor breakthrough. Elliot has a slight change of heart for the better and it has reader in tears. Fez and the reader have a bit of a cramped, cute discussion. Lots of butterflies. Cliffhanger at the end, sorry y'all.

-Warnings: Swearing, mention of drugs, mention of violence, angst.

-Word Count: Only 4.2k

A/n: I've literally been waiting to get through this chapter just to be able to get to the next one. The next one is so good and I think at the end of this chapter, you guys are going to be so mad at me. Good luck.

Playlist Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Making my way into Elliot’s room, I throw myself down on the bed with a loud sigh. He chuckles at me softly from the doorway, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips as his wet hair drips onto his shoulders. It’s been two months since the night at McKays. It’s also been two months since I drunkenly told Nate that I was in love with Nate. I wasn’t upset that he knew but it still wasn’t my finest moment. He hasn’t used it against me or brought it up since I told him. So maybe he was right.

“You still stressed?” He asks gently, stepping forward to shut the door, the lock clicking as I nod with a soft groan. “Fez is still busy on that deal?” He sits down at the foot of the bed, his hands gently taking my feet to place them in his lap. His hands dance over the skin of my calves, my cheeks heating up at the contact. I give him a gentle nod, gazing down at him. “He’ll be okay.” He whispers reassuringly, gently lifting my leg up to place a kiss right below my knee.

Fez texted me a few days ago saying that he had a huge project coming up for a drug deal and that he wouldn’t be the easiest to contact for a few days. He’s always been the easiest person to contact, so the lack of him within the last few days have been torture. I’ve been silently begging for him to text me and even call me kid, anything.

But nothing. Zero.

I’ve sent him a few messages, checking in, just telling him that I hope he’s okay and safe and everything’s been fine. This morning, though, he messaged me that the actual deal was happening today and that he was nervous, so was Ashtray. He’s typically so calm and collected when it comes to deals and the fact that he voiced he was nervous to me freaks me out.

“He’ll be okay. He knows what he’s doing and I’m sure he’ll message you with an update. He knows how worried you get.” Elliot adds, gently laying down next to me to pull me into his arms. I cuddle into him, my mind calming down at the proximity. My mind still wanders to the older boy, his eyes, his lips. The way that he was looking between Elliot and I at that party, his angry gazes and squared shoulders, makes my head pound. Why he was so angry was beyond me and still is. He’s typically protective in general but specifically with Elliot, it’s even worse.

Coming back to reality, I look at Elliot, a small smile on his lips as he grins. “Distract me?” I offer quietly, his hands slipping under my shirt to rest on the smooth, bare skin of my back.

“Oh was the hour long, hot shower not good enough?” He asks teasingly, his lips gently pressing against mine as he whispers. “It’s a good thing I don’t pay the water bill.” He chuckles, his lips moving to my cheek as he leaves gentle kisses all over. “Relax.” He coos, his hands soothing over my back as I manually relax every muscle in my body. “Good girl.” He praises, the words making me shiver as he snickers, feeling the movement throughout my body. “This is why you have me. Distracts you from the guy you’re in love with until you can legally tell him, and you’ve been so addicting that I’ve been sober for almost three months.” He whispers, my grin growing at his positive words.

“I’m so proud of you.” I whisper, my fingers winding through his hair as he hums happily. “Maybe you won’t need rehab after all if Fez falls in love with me.” I chuckle as he snorts, his forehead resting against mine.

“We’ll see.” He responds simply, my lips in a smile that mirrors his. Both of our cheeks are warm and red, the cold room from our wet hair now rising in temperature. We gaze at each other for a few moments, both of our phones discarded on the floor, his cat resting on the chair next to his dresser. It’s so safe. So warm and so comforting. “I hate to see you so upset over him.” He admits, his hands gently settling on my waist. “Je te garderais pour toujours si tu me laissais faire.” He coos in a quiet voice, my eyes flickering back and forth between his eyes. “I would keep your forever if you’d let me.” He smiles as I blush, my head leaning forward to tuck into his neck.

“You’re too sweet.” I whisper, my phone buzzing from the ground as Elliot pulls away from me. I gently lean down, my hand fumbling as I try to find my phone. Eventually my fingers grasp around it, seeing Fez’s contact on the screen as it buzzes. Elliot sits up with a smile as I answer the phone.

“Fez, are you alright?” I ask, my heart pounding in my best as I wait anxiously for his reply.

“I’m alright, mamas.” I hear him let out a sigh of relief, the sound of a car door closing indicates that he called me immediately after leaving. My heart pounds at the subtle, kind thought of him thinking of me. “Shit, sorry I got you all worried ‘bout me.” He whispers, huffing as the car starts in the background.

“It’s okay. Elliot literally has been forcing me to distract myself or else I probably would’ve had a panic attack. Past few days have been hell for me. Not knowing sucks.” I admit, Elliot’s hands reaching over to gently rub over my bare knee. Fez sighs sadly, and I can picture his face falling, his lips dropping in disappointment.

“I’m sorry, ma. I’ll do better next time. Keep you in the loop while I’m on the clock.” He promises, a hum of acknowledgement leaving my lips as Elliot sends me a smile. “At least you can relax now.” He adds but I shrug, shaking my head at how untrue his words are. “Do you need anythin’? I was startin’ to miss you if I’m being honest.” He laughs sheepishly, my cheeks heating up as I snort.

“Yeah? Well I’ll have to stop by the store, hmm?” I offer, picturing that he’s just excited at my words as I was at his ‘I miss you’. “Let me know whenever you’re there. I’ll stop by, okay?”

“Yo, alright then.” He chuckles softly, my eyes closing as I fall back on the bed. “See you later then, Y/n.” He whispers, my heart bumping loudly against my chest at the sound of my actual name and not a nickname or kid. The phone call ends, my phone being once again tossed onto the bed next to us. Elliot chuckles at my excited expression, my legs kicking up and down in excitement.

“He wants to see me!” I giggle happily, covering my face with my hands as the bed shifts under me. Peeking through my fingers, Elliot pulls my legs straight so he can swing a leg over my waist, straddling my hips as he looks down at me. “What?” I ask with a nervous smile, his smirk making my tummy swirl.

“He wants to see you, sure, but so do I. So good luck getting out from under me because you’re mine for a bit.” He whispers, his fingers wrapping around my wrists to pull them away from my face, next to my head where he pins me down gently. My eyes widen up at him, gulping. “He’s gonna have to share. Especially because he’s the one you’re gonna end up with anyways.” He winks but I can see the insecurity behind his eyes. My wrists pull out from his hold, my palms gently resting on his cheeks as he leans down.

“You jealous?” I ask quietly, less teasing than I intended it to come out. His eyes flicker away from mine, his cheeks heating up as he nods. “Awe, honey!” I coo, leaning up to gently capture his lips in mine. He lets out a quiet sigh, his lips parting as his hands gently rest on my waist. Pulling away from the short kiss, his eyes open, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout.

“You’re my best friend. That’s all. It’s hard to watch you love someone else who doesn’t even realize how lucky they are.” He confesses, my heart breaking at his words. “I wish Fez could realize how amazing you are. And I wish I wasn’t so selfish that all I want is for you to stay here and never leave.” He whispers, his face leaning forward to tuck into my neck. His weight falls on me, my legs wrapping around his waist as my fingers tangle into my hair. We sit in silence, his words running through my mind as guilt consumes me.

“Maybe we should stop having sex and stuff.” I offer, his head shaking gently at my words. “I just don’t want to feel like I’m leading you on. Especially if you feel that way about our whole situation.” I add but he continues to shake his head in disagreement.

“I’m happy you’re in love. Fez is a great guy. I’m not saying I’m in love with you, Y/n. I’m just afraid that once you and him live happily ever after that I’ll be a second thought. To go from where we are now, to nothing, scares me.” He explains, pressing a kiss to my cheek as I smile.

“You’ll always be my best friend. We’ll always do stuff and I’ll always love and appreciate everything you’ve ever done for me.” I explain with a smile and I can sense him calming down. “But you can’t use me as an excuse to be sober forever, Elliot.” I whisper, my fingers cupping his cheeks to force him to look at me. He frowns, his lip tucking in between his teeth as he nods knowingly. Thoughts run through his mind, his eyes focusing on a spot on my nose as he ponders.

“I don’t want my sobriety to depend on you. And right now, I don’t know if I could safely stay sober if you and Fez got together and this,” he points between us with a sigh, “stopped.” I nod, understanding what he means but not getting his endgame. “What if we, uh, looked into rehab programs?” He offers, my eyes widening at him in shock. “Don’t look at me like that.” He chuckles, sitting up and sliding off of me. “Don’t make this a big deal.” He warns but I laugh loudly at his words. Like it isn’t the biggest deal in the world.

“It is a huge deal, but I don’t want you to do this for me. I want you to do it for you.” I whisper, sitting up to place my hands on his shoulders. He nods gently before leaning forward to press a kiss to my nose.

“I want to do it. I’m done with this shit. And I’ve been relatively okay without drugs the last few months. Obviously.” He says with a small smile. Excitement fills me, leaping into him as I bury him in hugs and kisses. He laughs loudly, his head thrown back as I kiss all over his cheeks. “Okay! Okay! Let’s find a rehab and then you can go see your man.”

The next few hours were spent on his computer, searching through the best and longest rehab programs for teens. We looked within forty miles and we actually found one. It was set over eighteen to twenty four months, methadone used to control the addiction and relapse issues. He would also have a therapist and psychiatrist that would help with any mental health issues that came about. While he went and talked to his cousin, informing her of the good news, I stayed in his room and looked further into the strictness of the program. He wasn’t allowed visitors unless they were family members and was not allowed to have his phone. It made sense, the only people that he would be speaking to are doctors and fellow addicts. Maybe it would be better off for him to get a good break from everything in this fucked up town.

He eventually brought the computer out to his cousin, needing his legal guardian to sign off and it was official. He would be entering the rehab program in a week at the end of March. I’m gonna be honest, it hurts my heart to think of him going away for that long. He’s the only real comfort I’ve known for the longest time. But this would be good for him. He’d finally be okay.

Making my way down the street, my heart thumps at the thought of seeing Fez and telling him the good news. He texted me a little while ago, letting me know that he opened the door and he needed help unpacking drinks since Ash was preoccupied. Typical. My feet clap against the concrete of the parking lot, my dress dancing in the wind. Apparently Elliot had blown my secret in and told his cousin my feelings for Fez. Saying that, she let me borrow the flowery dress in hopes that it would help make me look older and, not that I needed it, but to look prettier.

Stepping under the carport, I peek around the counter to see him nowhere to be found. Faye sits on the floor, her ankles swinging as she turns to me, a grin on her lips.

“Hi!” She grins, patting the ground next to her as I send her a wave, my eyes darting around the store. “I’m on watch. Fez is in the back.” She nods towards the door, my eyes fluttering over to it as Fez makes his way out of the backroom. A grin spreads across his lips as he sees me, his eyes trailing down my body, taking in the dress. Faye notices the look, clearing her throat as he snaps out of his gaze. Bingo. That’s exactly what I wanted. He steps up to me, scratching the back of his neck as I smile up at him.

“Hi Fez.” I whisper as he laughs sheepishly. “Elliot’s cousin leant me the dress since you seem so interested in it.” I snort, watching as his cheeks heat up, his head tilting to conceal his embarrassment.

“Shut it, kid. Whattya up to?” He dismisses with a nervous smile, my bones rattling as I remember why I came. A bigger grin spreads across my cheeks, my cheeks aching at the pain of happiness.

“I have good news.” I whisper, shifting my weight as he waits expectantly. Looking to Faye, realizing I really just want to have this conversation with Fez, he notices. He takes my hand gently in his, pulling me away from Faye’s gaze and into the entrance of the back room. It’s cramped, his legs slotted in between mine as I rest my head against the wall. “Elliot is choosing to go to rehab. He goes next week.” I grin, Fez’s eyes widening as his jaw slacks. “He specified that he’s done depending on me for sobriety so he’s checking himself in about an hour away and it’s an 18-24 months program. He’s serious.” I whisper, hope in my eyes as Fez grins happily.

“Shit, that’s really good, kid. I’m happy for the both of ya.” He coos, his hand not leaving mine as I smile, happy to have told him. His thumb brushes over the back of my hand as I blush, hoping that it’s concealed by the right lights above us. We sit in silence for a few moments before a frown appears on his lips. I patiently wait for him to speak his mind, my hand giving him a subtle squeeze to egg him on. “Uh, what about him bein’ your distraction and shit?” He asks, deciding that’s probably a fair point. “What about the shit with you being in love with someone else?” He adds, my cheeks heating up as I look to the ground.

“Well, it’s gonna be harder cuz now I won’t have the whole having him when I’m sad and crying.” I huff, my heart heavy as I think about it. It’s selfish of me to think of how much I’m going to need him and miss him. In his absence, the fact that Fez is so close yet so far could seriously mess me up. Again. Before Elliot, I was crying daily, getting myself hyped to go see Fez only to have it destroyed by the distance between the two of us.

“You have me.” He whispers, my eyes flickering up to look at him as he smiles softly. Sincerely. I scoff sadly, shaking my head. “You always got me, kid.” With a smile, he pulls me into his arms, my eyes tearing up at his words. But I don’t really have you. “You got me so much that I’ll take you two. We’ll drop ‘im off and go stuff ourselves or some shit.” He offers, my chin rising to rest on his sternum as I look up at him. When he notices my glistening eyes, he frowns. His hands still hold my waist, a tear tumbling down my cheek as I pout. “Com’ere.” He mutters softly before reaching up to hold me tighter against his chest. His heartbeat thumps under my ear, the fingers on the back of my head rubbing circles into my hair as I let it out. I know he might believe, that under my tears, that the source is Elliot. In reality, it’s his utter stupidity to not see that it’s about him. Everything is about him. My relationship with Elliot, as odd as it might be, is about him. Why I cry without having Elliot in my life, that’s about him. Why I dress up and wear makeup everywhere that he might be. Everything comes back to him and he doesn’t see it.

Sometimes I like to imagine telling him. Just coming out of nowhere and saying, hey remember when I did that one thing? Yeah it’s because I’m in love with you. I’m sure it would make everything that I do make so much more sense in his mind. It would make a lot of sense to a lot of people. I hate that to some people I’m so obvious, like Elliot. He knew that I was in love with Fez before I even came clean to him. When I told him, he just shrugged with a smile. When I asked why he shrugged the news off so easily he said that it was because, not only did he know, but he could recall specific incidents that happened that solidified his belief.

“Aye, did you hear me?” Fez’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts, tears still streaming down my face. Sniffling, I reach up to wipe my tears. “I said you can’t be crying no more. I won’t allow it.” He chuckles, his chest rumbling beneath me as I let out a small laugh. His hands gently rub up and down my back as I huff, stepping away from him. I think the proximity actually makes me sad because I realize how much I miss it when I’m not in his arms. Nate was right. I am like the walking definition of being in love.

“I guess I didn’t realize the fact that now that he’s gone, I’ll have nothing to take my mind off the depressing fact that I’m in love.” I chuckle, rubbing my eyes as I lean against the wall once more. At least a foot of space is in between us now, his eyes watching me softly as if I’ll break in a moment's notice.

“I’m not sure if bein’ in love is supposed to make you feel like that.” He chuckles softly, my eyes rolling at his teasing. “I mean it. Aren’t there ‘posed to be butterflies and shit?” I giggle, my head bobbing in a nod.

“There are butterflies and all the good stuff.” My cheeks heat up, my eyes flickering down to the floor once more, afraid that he’d see right through me. “The physical and mental divide between the guy and I is bigger than any good feelings, though. That’s why Elliot was good for me. Because I could just be with him and near him.” I explain softly, only my voice and the sound of the coolers buzzing around us can be heard. “I also have never been in love before and I was talking to Nate about it and he says that this is what it’s like, so.” I laugh, trying to get off of the more serious aspect of my words, but Fez shakes his head.

“Whaddya mean physical and mental divide? What’s that mean?” He quizzes, his eyebrows furrowed and lips pouted. God he’s so cute. His eyes are still soft and concerned, one of two looks that he typically gives me. The other is pure annoyment.

“Uh…” I trail off, my feet shuffling against the floor as I try to come up with something to say other than, well you don’t love me and I’m a kid to you so. Clearing my throat, I continue. “He doesn’t feel the same way about me. And I’m like 90% sure of that. There would be some issues if we were to be together. I’m not sure if it’s worth risking my friendship with him if it means telling him my feelings.” I shrug, a hum coming from him as he thinks over my words.

“I don’t get why he wouldn’t want to be with you, kid.” Fez sends me a slight shrug and I can tell he feels badly that I’m in this situation. A scoff leaves my lips at his words.

“Nate and Elliot both said that. Elliot said ‘it’s hard to watch you love someone else who doesn’t even realize how lucky they are’.” I frown, his words resonating in my head and they have for a while. “Nate said that Elliot was lucky and then called me hot. Different sentiments, both important.” I giggle and Fez’s jaw squares as he rolls his eyes. The mention of Nate’s name definitely pisses him off, but honestly, after this conversation, I’m not allowed to be the only uncomfortable one.

“Well, they’re both right. You’re great.” He adds, my cheeks heating up as he grins. I shake my head with a small smile, his words making my heart throb and break at the same time. “Honestly, kid. Whoever this guy is, he’s lucky as fuck. You know that.” He chuckles, his eyes flickering away from mine nervously. He reaches up, scratching the back of his neck, a tic of his that indicates his nerves.

“I guess those things just don’t matter.” I shrug, my tears tearing again. “I mean, if I actually thought that this guy would give me any chance in hell, I would say something, Fez. I’m not just walking around waiting for his feelings, or lack thereof, to fall in my lap.” I sniffle, wiping my tears away as he sighs, taking my hands in his again. “It’s fine. I just need to get over it and deal with Elliot leaving.” I brush his concern off, now feeling claustrophobic. He nods, understanding my discomfort, moving on. “Can I just hang with you for today? Be your shadow?” I offer, his eyes lighting up as he nods, a grin evident on his lips.

“I got a deal in a little bit but if you stay in the car, you can go.” He offers in return, my head bobbing in a nod. “Then we can get food or somethin’.” The urge to say, like a date?, consumes me but I push it aside, a smug smile on my lips. “Ash isn’t going with me on this one but it should be quick.” He shrugs, looking out the door to see a customer at the front desk. “I’ll be back.” He reaches over, messing up the hair on the top of my head as he leaves the hallway.

A little while later, I sit in the front seat, my head bopping to the music. The deal wasn’t that far away from my house, only ten minutes, so I let myself try to be comfortable. He didn’t tell me what he was dealing, the people he was seeing, or the meaning behind it, but I trust that whatever may happen, that he’ll be safe.

The dark sky around me makes me nervous as my eyes search around the apartment complex, looking in and out of the broken and battered windows. Spotting a man in the upstairs window, my head backs back down as my heart pounds, hoping he didn't spot me. Sneaking another glance through the glass, he’s gone.

Turning the radio down and opening the window for some fresh air, I take a deep, calming breath in. I’m not even the one in the dangerous situation yet I can’t help but feel that even just being here, whether it be the neighborhood or something else, is dangerous. My leg bounces nervously as a door slams in the distance, my eyes flickering around to see where it came from. Not seeing anyone, I let out a brief sigh of relief, wishing Fez would hurry it up. He said ten or twenty minutes tops but it's turning into an anxious thirty.

Suddenly, the door opens to my right, a brief scream leaving my lips as a hand covers my mouth. Feeling myself being ripped from my seat and the seat belt, I thrash against the grip as tears fill my eyes.

Fuck, Fez is gonna be so mad at me.

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

A/n: Surprise! So this was an absolute trip. The next part is like way more crazy and I think you guys are gonna be jumping out of your skin. I'll post a teaser probably tonight and depending on how you guys feel after this one, maybe I'll post part 5.

In the meantime, send in requests if you guys want!!

Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @alex--awesome--22 @grxnde-dwt @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @genuisohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @distantsighs @nystyles4299

[kozumekenza]

on my mind :: five

:: suna rintarou x f!reader :: playlist :: masterlist ::

:: taglist: open :: wc: 2.2k ::

After a drunken one-night stand with your ex, you thought you could get him out of your life for good. Unfortunately, the two of you can’t seem to keep away from each other. Why can’t you leave each other alone? And more importantly, why is he still on your mind?

tw: alcohol, profanity, mentions of sex

author’s note: this chapter is v self-indulgent + fluffy but i hard a hard time getting it to flow while covering everything, so i’m sorry if it some parts seem kinda confusing. as always, thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy this chapter <3

After another week of deliberation, you were no closer to determining if another relationship with Suna would be worth a shot. You didn’t hear from him or speak to him at practice, even after you rejoined the team on the court later in the week. He kept his distance, seemingly wary of talking to you after you left him at his kitchen table Saturday morning. 

You weren’t quite sure what to make of it. Based on his reaction Saturday, you guessed he was probably pissed at you, and you didn’t blame him. He had specifically warned you about regrets on Friday night, and you completely blew him off, just to tell him you regretted everything the next day. It was a dick move on your part, and you understood that. There weren’t any excuses; it was simply your drunk versus sober self warring against each other. 

Nonetheless, you still felt awful. You kept your distance; you didn’t want to further anger Suna with your presence. During practice, you kept to the sidelines, performing your duties with a calculating eye and absolute precision. 

Still, by the end of the week, you were exhausted. Besides the intense contemplation you were performing in your head, work was also draining. Sakusa Kiyoomi sprained his wrist (apparently, it happened quite often), Yaku Morisuke nearly tore his ACL (a devastating injury for a libero), and on top of it all, Hinata Shoyo somehow managed to break two toes, his pinky finger, and got a concussion. Top it all off with the fact that Tobio Kageyama was always hovering over Hinata when he was injured, questioning your every move, and you had a recipe for disaster (or at least extreme exhaustion). By the time Friday’s afternoon practice was finished, you were ready to fall asleep while standing up.

You said your goodbyes to the team, approved the weekend’s schedule with Iwaizumi (it was your turn to work Sunday’s practice match), and took the train home. After unlocking your apartment, you debated whether or not you should go straight to bed without dinner or suck it up and make something quick and easy. In the end, your desire to not wake up starving at five in the morning won, and you went to change before starting dinner. You threw on some old running shorts and Suna’s stolen jersey, which had become your new favorite sleep shirt (who could blame you, it was comfortable as hell). 

However, a quick search through your cabinets and fridge showed that you had almost no food, whatsoever. Not a big deal, you could just run to the convenience store down the street. 

So you did, with no makeup, dressed in sleep clothes, hair in a messy bun. 

Grabbing a basket, you made your way around the small store, ignoring the stares you received from other customers (you chose to believe it was just because of your tangled hair, but you knew it was because you were wearing a Japanese National Team jersey). You picked up some eggs and noodles for ramen, along with some broth. You were in the frozen food aisle, considering the merits of cookies and cream versus matcha ice cream, when someone tentatively called your name.

You spun around, cursing yourself for not at least putting on a jacket, when you began to curse yourself even more for wearing the stupid jersey. 

You came face to face with Suna Rintarou, who was considering you with a pained expression on his face. 

“Hey, Suna,” you switched your basket from one hip to the other, “what are you doing here?”

He held up the package in his hand. Jelly fruit sticks. “Had a craving.”

You inclined your head. “Cool.”

“What about you?”

You looked down at the basket. “Needed stuff to make ramen.”

He nodded, then looked off to the side before looking back at you. “Um, y/n, who’s jersey is that?”

Panicking, you laughed. “Just an extra I found.”

“Really? It has my name on the back.”

Shit. “Oh, well, must be a coincidence, I guess.”

He cocked his head to the side. “I also lost mine a few weeks ago.”

“Oh wow, that’s awful, I’m sorry.” You turned, trying to make an escape.

“Y/n.”

You looked back at Suna. “Yeah?”

“That’s my jersey.”

You laughed again, dread really becoming apparent now. “What? No way.”

Suna just continued looking at you. “Your bra is at my apartment.”

You quickly shook your head. “No-”

“So is your torn skirt.”

“No, tha-”

“We slept together.”

“Yeah, but only-”

“Twice.”

“No, def-”

“And you knew.”

You were really starting to panic, hands waving around, like that would somehow convince him. “No, no, no.”

Suna looked you in the eye. “We need to talk.”

You sighed, accepting defeat. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

---

After awkwardly paying for your food and an even more awkward walk back to your apartment, you and Suna were finally in private.

“D’ya want anything to drink? Water, soda, juice? Wine, something a little stronger? Vodka?”

Suna just sighed, shrugging out of his jacket. “Water’s fine, thanks.”

You poured him a glass of water and yourself a glass of wine, but not before taking a few shots of vodka. You were going to need it to get through this. You approached with the glasses, setting one down in front of Suna before curling up on the other end of the couch. 

“Nice place you got.”

“Thanks.” You sipped from your glass, waiting for Suna to make the first move. When it became apparent that he wasn’t going to speak until you did, you spoke up. “I’m-”

“We-”

You laughed, setting down your glass. “You can go first.”

Suna took a deep breath. “We both have fucked up, in the past and now. I’ll admit it. The way I treated you in high school was shitty, and it’s taken me a long time to own up to it. I’m sorry for all the pain I caused you back then. And I don’t know if it’s you getting back at me, or purely coincidental, but I’m kinda hurt that you hid this from me. I mean, for fuck’s sake, y/n, I talked about it in front of you. And you just kept quiet!” You silently watched as Suna took a sip of water. “I guess my main question is why. Why didn’t you say anything to me? Were you just hoping that I would never find out?”

You assessed Suna, allowing yourself a moment to think. “I didn’t hide it from you to get back at you. I’ve long since forgiven you for all of the shit in high school, and it wasn’t just you. I was immature and insecure back then, so for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. I think I didn’t say anything because I was scared. I mean, I woke up that morning in your apartment, with no memory of the night before, and I hadn’t seen you in eight years. I had no clue what happened or why I was there. I didn’t know why you were in Tokyo, and honestly, I thought you would’ve been disgusted. We hadn’t spoken to each other in a long, long time. I didn’t want our first meeting after all those years to be an awkward morning-after. And about the jersey,” you laughed a little to yourself, “that was pure coincidence. I had no clue what I had taken until I got home, and I had no idea how to return it.”

Suna nodded, seemingly thinking something over before speaking. “I forgive you. I’m not even that upset about everything, to be honest. I think it just kind of hurts that you kept it from me. And I’ll admit, I was really bothered when you just left last Saturday. I don’t know how much of what you said Friday night is true, and I was a little drunk too, but I meant everything. I didn’t want you to have any regrets, and I don’t regret it.” He chuckled to himself, “I mean obviously, I wish we had slept together under different circumstances, and I wish that you didn’t regret it either, because it clearly made you upset.”

“I think it just took me by surprise, that was all. I had promised myself that I wouldn’t get drunk and sleep with you again, and I did exactly that. I was upset at myself, and I took it out on you. I’m sorry.” You made eye contact with him, hoping that your eyes could convey the emotions that your words could not. “For what it’s worth, I meant everything as well. I did miss you, all those years we were apart, but I hope you understand why I had to leave back then. We were tearing each other apart, constantly. I had to do the hard thing and get out before there was nothing left.” Tears started to well up in your eyes, and you quickly wiped them away. “I had to leave. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, because I loved you,” your voice broke, “no, because I still love you, so much. For eight years, I focused on bettering myself, and I tried every single day to forget about you, but you were always on my mind. And I was terrified when I saw you again, fuck, I’m still terrified. But you’re my best friend, you always have been, and I love you, Rin.” You couldn’t stop the tears that were flowing now, after bearing your heart. You let Suna pull you in, and cried into his chest as he stroked your hair and whispered calming words. When the tears finally stopped, you remained tucked into Suna, your head underneath his chin. 

“I never stopped thinking about you, or loving you.” Now Suna was the one who sounded close to tears. “You can ask ‘Tsumu. I always asked him for updates on you. I remember, when I got my National Team letter, the first thing I did was ask ‘Tsumu if you’d be a trainer here. I kept up with you, and I knew you had just completed your training with another team. So I knew you were gonna be here, and I thought, maybe, just maybe, this was my chance. Our chance to fix the whole ‘right person, wrong time’ thing we had. ‘Cause that’s what I’m convinced it was. We just didn’t know how to balance each other out yet or how to be in a real relationship yet. We were still kids, learning about ourselves and the world. When you left, I was determined to not make it the last time I ever saw you. I knew you had to leave, had to find your place in the world, without me. I never blamed you. You did the hard part by leaving. What you didn’t know, though,” Suna hugged you a little closer, “is that I was always there, right next to you, cheering you on.” Now the both of you were crying. “I want to fix things with you, make things right. If there’s anything I learned last Friday,” Suna gave a wet laugh, “it’s that we can still talk to each other, and we can do it better than we ever did. I want to be with you, again. I want there to be an us, again.”

You sat up a little, putting some space between the two of you. This, you weren’t so sure about. You looked to the side, trying to avoid Suna’s pleading eye contact. “Rin,” you looked back up at him, “you know I love you. You know I missed you so, so much. But I just need a little bit more time. And I’m sorry to even ask you-”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay.” He held you close as you began crying again. “I understand, I do. I’ll wait, as long as you need me too, I’ll wait for you. Just promise me that you’ll let me know when you’re ready.”

You nodded against his chest. “I promise, Rintarou. Thank you.”

You stayed there, head on his chest, just listening to his heartbeat. It felt as if a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. It was nice to get everything off of your chest, to figure out where the both of you stood with each other. It was nice to know that you would have the time and space to sort your head out, to fully work out if a relationship with Suna was a good idea or not. There were still so many aspects of your high school relationship that you had pushed to the side years ago, and you needed to sort through it. You needed to separate that Suna from this Suna, the old you from the present you. You needed time to be in a better mental state, one where you could give him your all. 

But you knew, no matter how much time it took, Suna would be waiting for you. 

---

When Suna finally left your apartment, it was hours and a teary goodbye later. You promised to keep in touch, and he promised to give you time and space. 

You went to bed feeling significantly lighter, dreaming about a future where you could fall asleep on Suna’s chest every single night. 

taglist: @sunasexual @call-me-lulu​ @ntimacy​ @circleglasses​ @porcolie​ @keikotaro 

[tessisawriter]

Invisible String, Part 1 (Colton Parayko)

Request: Can you write an imagine where the reader is John Krasinski’s [niece] but she’s dating Colton Parayko and like she has to breaks the news and John acts mad or something and scares them but then he says he’s joking and he’s fine with it? Thanks

***NOTE***: I changed some details in the last scene b/c I moved the timeline up from October 7 to September 14.

A/N: I’m back! The protagonist is an OC but I decided to call her Y/N instead of giving her an actual name b/c John Krasinski has nieces and/or nephews irl. I already planned the entire plot but idk whether the series will be 2 or 3 parts—I’ll post an update when I know more. This series takes place from March 2018 to June 2019 and is loosely based on Taylor Swift’s “Invisible String.” Here is the playlist.

Warnings: Six swear words, rough breakup, alcohol, loneliness & homesickness

Word Count: 3.4k

March 21, 2018

You were impervious to the mix of pitying and derisive glances from passersby as you sat on the curb. You knew you looked like a cliché, crying in front of a restaurant because your boyfriend broke up with you on your 22nd birthday, but you didn’t care. One question gnawed at you: how had six words upended your seemingly perfect day and relationship?

Your brain was buzzing with activity, wondering if Max had given you any clues that something was amiss. This morning, you woke up in his Cambridge apartment to him singing “Happy Birthday” while kneeling at the side of the bed. As soon as Max finished singing, he kissed you before grabbing his backpack and hurrying out of the room. That didn’t mean anything, though: Max was one of the only seniors to have the misfortune of taking all morning classes because his major was Theater, Dance, and Media. He was also (as usual) running late.

The rest of the day unfolded like any other Wednesday as you followed your schedule of lounging in bed, studying for an hour, going to the sandwich shop across the street for lunch, and heading to campus at 1PM for your classes. Afterwards, you went back to the apartment to find Max waiting there, already dressed for dinner. You quickly showered, curled your long (Y/HC) hair, and changed into a dark green dress and black booties before taking his hand and going to an Italian restaurant in Boston’s North End.

There were no warning signs at dinner, either. In fact, everything was perfect until you were waiting for the check and Max said with a detached look in his eyes, “I think we should break up.”

You didn’t want to relive what happened next, but the images of you acting like Elle Woods when Warner broke up with her in Legally Blonde popped into your head unbidden. You closed your eyes in humiliation and shame as you remembered Max, the man you dated for three years, abandoning you at the table and fleeing the restaurant. The other customers stared at you, some sympathetic, others scandalized, and the rest in pure shock.

You snapped out of the flashback when you felt a large hand rest on your shoulder. You whipped your head around to find a young man with blonde hair and black rimmed glasses squatting next to you on the curb.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

The panic faded as you took in the man’s features. He was definitely in his 20s, probably a few years older than you, and his blue eyes were filled with concern. Something about that concern, though, made you snap.

“Do I look like I’m okay? I mean, come on, look at me!” you demanded while pointing at your face, which you (correctly) assumed had giant black streaks of mascara on it.

You fully expected the man to walk away and leave you be, but he sat down on the curb instead and said, “My bad, that was a stupid question. I’ve got some tissues if you want them?”

That made your attitude soften. He was only trying to help, so you nodded and he handed you a pack of tissues from his pocket. You smiled at him, took the tissues, and wiped your eyes and face. As soon as you were satisfied that they were clean, you broke the silence. “Thank you…?”

“Colton, and it’s no problem. What’s your name?”

“Y/N.” You held out your hand for him to shake, which he did. After a pause, you asked: “Why did you stop? Surely you have somewhere better to be tonight.”

He chuckled, and the sound of it made your heart flutter. “I was just heading back to my hotel when I saw you, and I figured I’d stop and make sure you get home safe. That is, assuming you live here?”

“Yeah, I live in Cambridge.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you realized they were no longer true, so you amended your statement. “Well, I lived in Cambridge until about 15 minutes ago when my now ex-boyfriend dumped me. On my fucking birthday.”

“Shit, that sucks. I’m really sorry.” He paused before adding, “I’m assuming he isn’t here.”

“Nope. He hightailed it out of the restaurant as soon as he got his credit card back.”

Colton shook his head. “What a jackass.”

“I know, right? I wasted three whole years with someone who not only broke up with me in a very public setting on my birthday, but also couldn’t be bothered to ask where I would go! He probably assumed I’d go to my parents’ house, but still.”

“Your parents live here?” Colton asked as he fished his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it.

“Yeah, right by Boston Common, why?”

“I’ll get an Uber and drop you off before going back to the hotel.”

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that,” you protested while going through your bag for your phone. “We just met! I’ll pay.”

“Nonsense. You’ve been through a lot tonight. Let me take care of it.”

You stared into Colton’s eyes and realized he wasn’t going to back down. It took everything in you to suppress your pride, thank him, and provide the address. Colton typed it into his phone, waited for a moment, and said, “The closest one is around the block.”

“That’s good.” Your burst of energy dissipated as quickly as it came, and you fell silent. From the corner of your eye, you saw Colton open his mouth as if to say something before the headlights of a car momentarily blinded you.

“That’s the Uber.” Colton stood up and offered his hand, and you took it. You couldn’t help but notice how well they fit together as he pulled you up and off the curb, but after regaining your balance, something else grabbed your attention: his height.

“Gee, how tall are you? No one’s ever made me feel like a dwarf before,” you joked as he led you to the car, your hands still intertwined.

He chuckled and opened the door for you. You let go of his hand and slid into the car. After Colton slid in next to you and shut the door, he replied, “I’m 6’6” and no one’s ever made me feel like I’m not a giant before. You’re what, 5’10”?”

“6 feet, actually,” you corrected him. “So, where are you from, Colton?”

“St. Albert; it’s just outside Edmonton in Canada, but I’ve been in the States for a while. I went to the University of Alaska in Fairbanks before moving to, uh, St. Louis.”

You noticed Colton’s hesitancy and the fact that he lowered his voice when saying “St. Louis,” and you were about to ask why when you thought better of it. You were protective of your privacy, too, especially whenever people commented about how funny it was that you shared the same last name as John Krasinski. It wasn’t a coincidence—he was your uncle, and the two of you were extremely close—but you went along with it and never corrected them because it wasn’t their business. So, you let it go. “And what brings you to Boston?”

“Work,” he said before changing the subject. “What do you do? Are you still in school or—”

“I’m a senior at Harvard,” you cut him off. You generally didn’t drop the “H-bomb,” as you and your friends called it, with people you didn’t know well, but this was a special case. Colton just confirmed he was hiding something, and after looking at him in better lighting, his face seemed familiar, which weirded you out. You had to get back on equal footing, and the H-bomb almost always unsettled people.

“Wow, you must be really smart,” Colton said, seeming impressed but unphased. You couldn’t help yourself from raising an eyebrow as he asked, “What’s your major?”

“Government. What was yours?”

“Business administration.”

“Ah.” You fell silent again, this time on purpose, as you racked your brain for where you might have crossed paths with Colton. He wasn’t from Boston, not even close, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d seen him before, and recently.

Colton didn’t let you ruminate for long before reviving the conversation. “What do you want to do when you graduate?”

“I’ll be a lawyer one day, but I have to be a paralegal first. I’m looking for jobs right now.”

Before Colton could reply, the car came to a stop. You looked out the window and saw your parents’ townhouse and your childhood home.Your time in the car had flown by, a sensation you rarely, if ever, experienced. And there was something between you and Colton, a connection you couldn’t quite describe, that made you want to spend more time with him. But your time was up. “This is me. It was nice to meet you, Colton, and thanks again for the ride—I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem,” he replied. “I’m glad I found you.”

You were overwhelmed by an intense desire to ask for his number. If only he lived in Boston or somewhere in the Northeast. But he lived in St. Louis, so you moved to open the door, only to feel Colton’s hand wrap around yours and hear him say: “Y/N?”

“Yeah?” You turned around and locked eyes with him. It was like being in a trance, and your heartbeat thundered in your ears.

It felt like years, but it was more like a few moments before Colton let go of your hand. “Good luck with the search. I’m sure you’ll find a good job.”

You wanted to let out a sigh of disappointment, but you just said, “Thanks,” and smiled at him before getting out of the car.

***************

The smell of bacon finally lured you out of your bed at noon the next day.

It had been a rough night. The reality of the breakup hit you like a ton of bricks when you rang the doorbell and all but collapsed in your mom’s arms when she answered the door. She brought you over to the couch, where your dad was waiting anxiously. As soon as you sat down, you grabbed your mom and cried for an hour straight as she held you and stroked your hair. You knew Max wasn’t worth your tears, but it had more to do with you. Despite his major, he wasn’t that good of an actor, and yet, he fooled you into thinking he could be your person. You took immense pride in your instincts, but they failed you with Max. How could you have possibly fallen in love with such a heartless person? More terrifying, would you have ended up marrying him a few years down the road if he hadn’t broken up with you?

You didn’t know the answer to either question, so you stopped crying and began venting about how the breakup went down. Your dad almost hit the ceiling after hearing that Max left you at the restaurant, and you had to talk him out of driving to Cambridge to “give that little shit a piece of my mind!” That wasn’t to say you weren’t thinking about revenge, but your dad potentially getting arrested was not helpful. After that, you started crying again, only this time out of frustration, and didn’t stop until you practically passed out on the couch. The last thing you remembered was your parents guiding you up the stairs to your bed.

Thankfully, you had no classes on Thursdays, so you were able to sleep in and be, if nothing else, well-rested. Your stomach rumbled when you smelled the bacon, so you got out of bed and made your way down the stairs to the kitchen, where your parents were sitting at the table and watching the television.

“Ugh, why are you watching the news?” you said as a way of greeting while making a beeline for the bacon.

“Good morning to you, too, sweetheart,” your dad replied. “I’m waiting for the sports report. I missed the game last night and Uncle John wouldn’t tell me the score. He said he’s sorry about, I quote, ‘the scumbag’ and he’ll call you tonight.”

“God, I miss him. And you,” you addressed your mom as you shoveled a load of bacon onto your plate, “are the best.”

“See, honey? I knew bacon would cheer her up,” she said to your dad.

“I didn’t doubt it. Y/N, we have to figure out a time to get your stuff from that piece of shit’s apartment. I’m not letting you go by yourself, but do you want to let him know ahead of time or just show up?”

“Who did the B’s play?” you sat down at the table and changed the subject immediately. You didn’t care about sports, but your dad and Uncle John were major Bruins fans and the mere mention of Max gave you a headache.

“The Blues.”

“Where do they play again?” you asked as you ate your bacon. It had to be a team from the Western Conference, but the only teams you knew there were the Canucks and Blackhawks because they were on your dad’s shit list.

“St. Louis.”

You almost choked on your food. “What?”

“St. Louis, sweetie. You know, the Gateway Arch—”

“Yeah, I know, Mom,” you recovered. “That’s the team Jenna likes, right, Dad?”

“Yes. Shh, here it is!” He didn’t need to tell you twice; you doubted Colton was a professional hockey player, but your curiosity won out as you intently watched the television.

The score flashed on the screen—an OT loss for the Bruins—and your dad groaned. “Ugh, I’ve got to turn this garbage off.”

And suddenly, a few Blues players, including one that looked awfully similar to Colton (albeit without glasses), flashed onto the screen. You didn’t get a good enough look at him to be sure, though, because your dad changed the channel. You let out a noise of frustration.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” your mom asked, and your dad looked like he had the same question when he turned away from the television.

“I’ll text the scumbag and tell him I’m coming this afternoon, if that’s okay with you, Dad,” you said. “I want to get it over with and besides, I need my laptop and textbooks.”

“That’s perfect, sweetheart. The office doesn’t need me today, anyway.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back; my phone’s upstairs,” you called out behind you as you raced back up the stairs. You did not want to text Max, but it was better than telling your dad that the man he praised for making sure you got home last night was potentially part of the team responsible for his beloved Bruins’ loss.

You locked your bedroom door and grabbed your phone to pull up Google and the St. Louis Blues roster. Part of you thought there was no way a professional hockey player actually cared enough to bring you home, but the Blues being in town and one of its members resembling Colton were too many coincidences for your liking. You tapped your foot impatiently as the phone loaded the roster, and you scrolled through the list until you found a name of interest.

“C. Parayko, 55, R, 6’6’’…”

It cut off after that, so you scrolled sideways to see the other information. It left you without a shadow of doubt, but you clicked on the name anyway to view a picture. Colton’s headshot and full first name stared back at you as if they were looking into your soul.

It really was him. You had to have seen him on the little television at the sandwich shop’s register yesterday.

But what did this information mean for you, really, besides discovering his identity? It was nice to know his full name because it confirmed that he was a real person instead of a delusion your reeling mind made up, but it didn’t change one important fact: you lived in Boston and he lived in St. Louis. Barring a radical change in one of your lives, which you didn’t see happening, that was the reality of the situation. It was time to stop dreaming and confront your immediate future.

You pulled up Max’s number and began composing the text which, after several drafts, read: “I’ll be at the apartment today from 3 to 5. My dad’s coming with me, so make yourself scarce. I want my shit back.”

***************

6 months later: September 14, 2018

You were miserable only two weeks after relocating to St. Louis.

It was funny how one phone call could completely change someone’s life. In your case, said phone call involved an extremely attractive job offer with a clear path for advancement within one year. The offers you had received from legal firms in Boston, New York, D.C., and Philadelphia were underwhelming, to say the least, and you were only a week away from graduation. You had already endured a lot of change this year, so why not one more?

After nearly giving your parents a heart attack but ultimately receiving their blessing, you accepted the offer and moved to St. Louis on September 1st. Uncle John had been especially supportive, enlisting Jenna (known by the rest of the world as Pam from The Office) to fly out from L.A. and show you around the city last week. She made sure you knew the ins and outs of the city, which you really appreciated. You also loved your job. You were doing important work every day, and your boss was already hinting at giving you the promotion you wanted. 

So, why were you unhappy? It was your social life, or rather, lack of one. You didn’t know anyone in St. Louis, and while your coworkers weren’t mean, they didn’t make you feel welcome, either.

That seemed to have changed earlier today when two of your desk neighbors who were around your age, Harper and Ellie, invited you out for drinks after work. You couldn’t have been happier. You went home after work, did your hair and makeup, put on your favorite royal blue mini dress, and met them at the dive bar you recommended. You were so excited on the way over that you could barely sit still; maybe you’d make friends with these girls and finally feel like you fit in in this city.

Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. Harper and Ellie abandoned you within less than five minutes after two guys came over and asked them to dance. You were now sitting at the bar alone, nursing a cocktail and despairing over your situation.

It was times like these when you thought about Colton. It had been six months since you’d met him in Boston, and you didn’t want to risk looking like a lunatic by slipping into his DMs on Instagram, but you were getting desperate. It was bad enough that being from the Northeast made you stick out like a sore thumb, but the loneliness was eating you alive, and the combination made you feel unmoored. Maybe a familiar and friendly face could change that.

As if God had answered your prayers, you heard a commotion near the entrance. You swiveled your stool in that direction and saw a group of tall, good-looking men in their 20s entering the bar. The tallest one had blonde hair and black rimmed glasses.

It was Colton.

Your brain screamed at you to look away and approach him after he settled in, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of him as he laughed at something one of his friends said. It was as if he felt your stare because he suddenly looked in your direction and appeared to gasp.

It was only then that you turned away and faced the bar, drinking the rest of your cocktail in a few gulps. You were so embarrassed; he probably thought you were a stalker or something. You were about to flag down the bartender for another drink when you felt that familiar large hand rest on your shoulder.

You turned your head and found Colton staring at you, his blue eyes full of incredulity and…happiness?

“Y/N. It’s really you,” he breathed.

[cosmicfurby]

okay gang it's that time of the day

oh yeah

it's time for a ✨fic update✨

i decided this afternoon that i really needed to finish writing the first chapter and so the gods delivered, because HABEMUS FIRST CHAPTER! i am going fully insane, this is the first time I've ever felt this good about something I've written, let alone a fic. it's around five pages long, full of typos and i love it with my soul because I'm writing for FUN and not for anyone's approval and it's GOOD on my book which is all that matters

so this may very well be the last update before the fic is actually published, which is exciting! the chapter is already written, all i have to do is add a couple details and improve the writing before it's ready to go out into the world. you know, what i call "polishing" the text. hopefully the final product is acceptable to my beloved audience *like three people clap*

as i have established before, the first episode is basically trucy and kay looking around in their attic and finding things related to ryuunosuke + the letter from kazuma i shared a post or two ago. basically, I'm setting the scene for the "now" part of the fanfic, which will take up much less than the "then part". i am still debating whether to put kazuma's letter before or after the actual episode, but I'm pretty sure it'll go before. still unsure about that though, I'll figure it out

if i actually get to work and manage to edit it well enough first try i might publish it tomorrow?? EXCITING TIMES i have to choose a good time of the day tho lmao time zones are A Mess

the main problems, or rather, questions to solve i have as of right now are as follows:

1. make sure the characterization of trucy isn't off and is more upbeat because i tend to make my narrators a bit stern and calm and trucy is not exactly like that

2. be careful with kay's characterization (i have not in fact played the investigations games but i hope i can do a decent job, she doesn't appear much but i do think she's a key player and it would suck for her to be a bore)

3. add a few elements i absolutely forgot and only remembered like. hours after I'd closed the document dw these things happen it'll be alright, i think narratively I've said everything i wanted to say on that episode

4. maybe, just maybe, i will add a bit of narration by ryunosuke in the end. i think it will be useful to help establish the three main narrative stages i have set up –letters, the now and the then– and it will be a good exercise on narrative tones. if i get fancy i might alternate between trucy and ryunosuke, though that might be a little whiplash-ey of me. i don't know, still thinking about that one

also! i may or may not have gone absolutely overboard and crafted a Spotify playlist with the music i listen to while i write 👉🏻👈🏻 i am just a little nerd with my little nerd soundtracks

as i said it's mostly soundtracks and instrumentals that have the right vibes ✨ this playlist has single handedly destroyed any semblance of normality my Spotify wrapped could've had but anyway you win some you lose some

that's all we've got for today's fic progress update! hopefully I can start publish as soon as possible this story has been with me for more than a month now and i can't wait to put everything into words. so that would be all ^^

"It was a collar pin in the shape of a spark.

unless you want a sneak peek.

do you want a sneak peeeeek? come on i know you do don't run away take the sneak peek take it take-

"It was a collar pin, shaped in the form of a little spark.

And spark something it did."

[x-reader-theater]

Doubt {8}

Relationship: Lucifer Morningstar x Non-Binary!Reader

Summary: Earth. Home. The people around you, your family, the man you love, the city you now live in. What could be better?

Warnings: Cursing, Graphic Body Horror, Lucifer being a Bastard

Word Count: 2043 words

A/N:  Wow. Thank you all for coming on such an amazing journey with me this past week. It's been incredible and I think you for joining me, coming along with me for the ride. This has been a special project of mine and I couldn't have done it without the help of my editor, @mystic-writes​. Please reblog the series and I can't wait to show you all more of my work in the future. Thank you <3 Also, someone recently put together a playlist for this story, which you can use here. I didn't want to share it until the rest of the fic was out, but it has all the songs from this fic there if you want to listen to it as a playlist. (And yes, they got an early look at the chapter's songs so they could put the new songs on there). I will be updating the first chapters with this playlist so anyone who's just now reading it can use it to listen while they read. 

If you prefer to read on AO3, you can do so here, but please still reblog and share.

[Prev.] <= [First] 

Chapter 8: The Rise

[Now Playing: Break my Heart by Dua Lipa]

You stand on the second floor of Lux, overlooking the rest of the club, a drink in your hand. You glance over to your right and see a woman looking at you, smirking, and you smile back. She moves her way over to you, the air shifting around her and a chill goes down your arms. The simple white t-shirt you're wearing with your blue jeans aren't exactly the warmest clothes, but in Lux, it's hard to be cold with all the bodies packed so tightly, and as the woman leans up against you, you feel warmth radiating from her. 

"What are you doing in a place like this?" She asks, her voice low and sultry. 

You smile when you feel a body press up behind yours and a familiar voice say, "Sorry. They're not available."

The woman nods tersely and walks away, and you turn around, kissing Lucifer. He pushes you against the railing, and you smile into the kiss. 

"We shouldn't do this here…" you whisper with a smile and Lucifer groans.

"But I want to show that you're mine," he says. 

You smile and glance around at the people who are looking at you. "I don't think that's a problem, Lucifer."

He smiles and kisses you again, before pulling away and grabbing your hand. He drags you to the elevator, pushing everyone else out of his way, before hitting the button to go up, and the doors close behind you. Lucifer pushes you up against the elevator wall, moving his lips down your neck, and you groan with a smile, running your fingers through his hair and pulling. 

"You're enjoying… that aren't you?" He asks between kisses and you lean into him more. 

"It's a new feature I'm excited to explore," you say with a smirk, and Lucifer pulls away from your neck to look at you for a moment, before kissing you. 

The bell rings and the doors open on Lucifer's penthouse. He pulls away and drags you into the large room, where you see Maze, her ligamented face smiling back at you. 

You raise your eyebrows when she quirks a wry smile your way, and you catch what she tosses at you. 

"Here," she says as you watch the silver, glinting handcuffs. "You'll need these." 

You grin and pull Lucifer into his bedroom, your wings already extended. 

[Now Playing: Never Knew Love Like This Before by Stephanie Mills]

"I think I'm actually really good," you say in Linda's office, sitting across from her. 

"Oh, well I'm happy to hear that," she says, leaning back. "Why do you think you're feeling so good right now?"

You shrug. "I'm in a… relationship, well, as much of a relationship as you can have with Lucifer. I have friends, Chloe and I are… talking, and that's a start, and I got answers," you list, and Linda is smiling at you. Actually, genuinely smiling at you. 

"I'm so happy for you, [Y/N]. You sound like you've really found yourself," she says, and you nod. "Now, that doesn't mean I want you to stop seeing me…" she says, putting a hand out, and you nod. 

"I know," you tell her simply, and she leans back, a surprised and impressed look on her face. 

"Oh! Oh, okay. Good," she says, nodding, and you smile. 

"Thank you, Linda. Without you, I don't think I could have done half as well as I have," you say, and Linda smiles. 

"You're welcome. Now, tell me more about this relationship with Lucifer?" Linda asks and you laugh. 

"Well, I told him I loved him a few nights ago…" 

[Now Playing: Me and the Devil by Soap&Skin]

You walk into Lux, making your way to the bar where you know Maze is. You're surprised, however, to see Lucifer and Chloe there as well. 

"Ah! Angel!" Lucifer exclaims, waving you over. You smile and sit next to them at the bar. "How are you?" 

You smile and nod. "I'm… good. I'm really, good," you respond. 

Lucifer grins and grabs your hand, kissing your knuckles. You smile, but look around him at Chloe, who's sipping her alcohol, trying not to look like she's watching the two of you. She's failing miserably at it. 

"How are you, Chloe?" You ask, and she looks up at you. 

"Huh? Oh! I'm-I'm good. Sorry, I'm a little distracted. There's a lot going on with work right now," she says, taking another sip. 

You smile. "No worries. I understand that." 

She smiles at you, and Lucifer says, "Yes, there's quite a bit to catch you up on." 

You smile and accept the drink Maze offers you, repaying her with a nod, which she returns. 

And you sit and listen to everything Chloe and Lucifer did in the past week. 

[Now Playing: Laughing With by Regina Spektor]

You look around as you walk down the street, watching people pass you by, on their phones, their hands on their purses and backpacks, talking to one another, or walking alone. You smile at the church where you met Father Lawrence for the first, and last time. Lucifer told you what happened. 

You see a woman sitting on the steps, her head in her hands and her knees pulled up to her chest. You see her shoulders shaking. She's crying. 

You walk up to her, sitting down next to her, and she looks up suddenly, wiping underneath her eyes. "What do you want?" She asks, snapping at you. 

"Why are you crying?" You ask, and she glares at you. 

"Why do you want to know?" She asks, frustrated. 

You put your hands up and say, "I'm just curious. I mean, a woman crying in front of a church all alone. Not exactly a common occurrence." 

She looks at you, her eyes narrowing in suspicion, before she sighs and looks away. "It's dumb," she says, wiping her eyes again. 

You shake your head and smile. "I'm sure it's not."

She scoffs, but bites her lip, looking down at her hands. "In the middle of our sermon, I asked if heaven was really that good," she says, and your eyebrows shoot up. She looks up at you and scoffs, saying as she starts to stand up, "I knew you'd think it's stupid." 

"No!" You exclaim quickly, and she stops. "I don't think it's stupid. It just surprised me. Because I have those exact same doubts."

Now it's her turn for her eyebrows to shoot up, and she slowly starts sitting down again. "Really?" 

You nod. "Yup. I mean, what's so great about staying in one place for the rest of eternity? At least here on earth, there's things to do! Most stuff is banned in heaven. No music, except for gospel, no touching, no sex," you say and her cheeks darken. 

"You sound like you know what it's like up there," she says, and you just stare at her. She laughs you off, waving her hand, like she's trying to dispel the thought. 

You smile at her and place a hand on her shoulder. "I want you to stick with these doubts. Ask questions. And whatever you do, never doubt yourself," you say to her seriously. "No matter what people try and tell you, trust yourself." She nods, in shock slightly, and you smile, standing up. "It was nice meeting you…" 

"Evie!" She says, and you smile. 

"It was nice meeting you Evie. You take care now," you say, and you walk away from her, smiling to yourself. Proud of yourself. 

[Now Playing: Angel Down by Lady Gaga]

You walk into the penthouse, peeling your hoodie off, and placing it on the coat rack next to the elevator. You smile at the familiar sight of the place you call home, the fully stocked bar, the living room with the very comfortable couches, the archway that leads into the bedroom. But you don't go towards any of them. Instead, you walk toward the balcony overlooking Los Angeles. The City of Angels. You laugh at that. An Angel, a Devil, and a Fallen Angel all walk into a city and wreak havoc, fall in love, and soar on feathered wings. What a bad joke. 

But you can't help but laugh. Because, what a joke your life has been so far. At least it's funny, filled with irony and ridiculous situations. 

You lean on the glass railing, the cool night air blowing across your face makes you smile. It's been hot these past few days. Never lower than 95 degrees. The cool air feels nice. 

You extend your wings from your back, spreading them out to catch the wind, feeling the cool air blow through your feathers. 

You think back to that first day you arrived, when your feathers molted off you violently and with a lot of screaming. You think of the bones, of your once beautiful white wings, of the scraping and clacking they made, and of what they've become, the white fading to black, doubt personified. 

You think about Lucifer, his reluctance to help you, to take you in, before ultimately giving up and having fun with it. And you did have a lot of fun with Lucifer, as well as Maze. They taught you a lot. 

You smile, happiness flooding your chest as you think of Linda, your hesitation when you first met her, and then your last session, where you thanked her for pushing you the way she did. 

You think of Chloe, of the jealousy you felt towards her like she did about you, the two of you fighting over something you didn't need to fight over. You may not be friends, but at least she's talking to you now. And that's a start. 

You remember Father Laurence, and your conversation that led him to Lucifer. You remember Detective Dan Espinoza, and planting those seeds of doubt in his head, which you and Lucifer laughed about later. You remember the woman and man who left you at the bar, all because Lucifer was there. You remember your parents, who Lucifer helped you stand up to. It all leads back to Lucifer, him being there when you needed him most, whether that be for a good laugh or a favour, for sex, or even just a good hug after a long day. He's always there for you. 

And you love him so much for that. 

You feel hands on your back, and you jump, but relax when you hear who it is. "Shh… it's only me, Angel," Lucifer says softly, running his hands around the base of your wings before wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his chest to your back. "What are you thinking about?" 

You smile and fold your wings in as you turn around to face Lucifer, before extending them again. "You. Me. How I was when I first arrived," you say, and Lucifer smiles. 

"Yes, that was a… frustrating time, but I think I handled it quite well," he says and you roll your eyes. 

"I think I recall you calling me 'practically a child'," you say and he scoffs. 

"Excuse you, I distinctly remember calling you hot as well," he says and you laugh, leaning forward so your head is on his chest. 

"It feels like so long ago," you say, looking up into his brown eyes. "And yet, it feels like no time has passed at all."

He smiles and kisses you lightly. "That's a perk of immortality, angel," he says, and you kiss him again. 

He presses you up against the railing, but his kisses don't feel feverish, they're not lustful. Because while his body is pinning yours against the glass, he's kissing you slowly, deliberately, as if he's afraid he's going to lose you if he stops. You pull away, taking a deep breath in, and you smile at Lucifer, running your fingers through his hair, down the back of his neck, around his shoulder, before your thumb rests against his lips. You lean in, pressing your forehead against his, and you smile. 

"You saved a fallen angel, Lucifer," you whisper. "What do you want to do with them?" 

He smiles and says plainly, "Everything."

[The End]

[legolasoftherings]

Second Time pt. 2

Pairing: Modern(coffee shop)!Kili x reader Word Count: 2339 Warnings: lots of smoochin, a tiny bit of jealousy, so so so much tooth decaying fluff A/N: Seriously, not even joking, this is completely full of cliches but whatEVER. Honestly, it’s so cute it made me cry writing it. Also, remember how I said this would be updated weekly? I lied (unintentionally, but still). Happy reading, darlings <3

PART 1

As the day went by, Kili almost completely forgot about you. Customers seemed ruder today, but he pushed through with the promise of seeing you at the end of the day. At 1:57, he heard the door open. “Hi welcome to-- oh,” he said looking up. To his surprise, it was you, “You’re a little early.” “I just needed to come work on things for a little while, and thought I’d come here,” you replied with a shrug and a grin. “Well, what would you like?” “What’s the most caffeinated thing you’ve got?” “I like your style,” he smirked with a knowing look on his face, “One cold brew with an extra shot coming up!” 

You sat up at the bar and chatted as he made your coffee, his smile boring through your defenses. You couldn’t stop yourself from blushing, and you tripped over your words, but he was too caught up in his own nervous thoughts to notice.   “Here you go,” he said with a sweet smile, passing the cup to you. Your fingers brushed his, and you swore your heart stopped. Recovering quickly, you grabbed your bag and choked out, “Thanks.” Sitting down at a small table, you pulled out your laptop and tried to focus on the work email you were trying to reply to, but unfortunately, you couldn’t help but admire Kili as he worked. His hair was pulled back into a bun, but small wavy strands framed his face effortlessly. The t-shirt he was wearing was just tight enough to emphasize his toned chest and biceps, and you quickly took a sip of your cold brew to stop your mouth from falling open. After you had gotten your coffee and sat down, Kili breathed a sigh of relief. I didn’t mess it up too badly, he thought to himself. Just then, he heard a laugh behind him. “Good going, lover boy,” Dwalin teased, slow clapping. Kili hit him with the towel he was holding with a groan. Dwalin laughed and said, “What? I didn’t say you did bad! I think she really likes you.” “Well, thanks for the analysis,” Kili deadpanned. Just then, a customer walked in the door and up to the counter. He ordered a latte, paid, and stepped back. Turning around, the customer surveyed the almost empty coffee shop, and recognized you. “Y/N?” You turned towards the voice, and your eyes lit up. “Bard!” you exclaimed, jumping up and running towards him, “It’s been so long, old man.” He laughed at the nickname, and retorted, “You and I both know that I’m two days older than you. That doesn’t mean I’m old.” “Sorry, I forgot! It means you’re practically ancient!” You gave him a bear hug as he kissed your forehead, his mustache pleasantly scratching your skin. The two of you continued to talk as he grabbed his coffee; you were completely oblivious to Kili watching you sulkily, however, Dwalin was not. “What’s going on, lover boy?” “WIll you stop calling me that?” Kili snapped, seething. Dwalin chuckled and got back to work, leaving Kili alone with his thoughts. You pulled Bard back to your table, and continued to chatter away with your old friend. For you, the time flew by, and suddenly, it was 2:30. “I’m so sorry to cut this short, but I have to drive the guy behind the counter home,” you said. Bard raised an eyebrow at you, and you blushed slightly. “How’d you two meet?” he asked with a wink and a smile. “Just at some party,” you said, pausing, “Do you want to meet for dinner soon?” you asked, changing the subject. “Definitely! I’ll text you later,” he replied, “Bye, loser.” “Bye, dumbass,” you said, giving him a squeeze and kiss on the forehead as you grabbed your things.   Kili heard the last little bit of the conversation as he stepped out from behind the counter and scowled. You smiled at him, oblivious to his sullen face and walked him out the door. Unfortunately, it had begun to rain, and you had parked farther away, and you hadn’t thought to bring a jacket. “Here,” Kili murmured, draping his black bomber jacket over you as you shivered slightly in the damp cold. You looked up at him in grateful surprise, and he smiled softly at your expression. Trying to think of something to say, your mind raced. Finally, you spoke, “Sorry I parked so far away. If I’d known it was going to rain, I would have parked closer.” “Y/N, it’s totally fine. If anything, I’m glad I get to spend more time with you,” he replied smoothly, putting his hands in his pockets. You flushed and quickly looked away, biting the inside of your cheek. The rain felt cool on the skin of your face, contrasting noticeably with your burning cheeks. Avoiding Kili’s eyes felt like the best choice, so you focused on the orange and red hues of the trees lining the rain-soaked street.     When you arrived at your car at last, your hair was damp and tangling. Kili, ever the gentleman, pulled your car door open, bowing low with a cheesy grin. “Thank you, good sir,” you wisecracked, returning his bow with a curtsy, and sitting down in the driver’s seat. He crossed over to the other side of the car, and climbed in. He pulled his hair out of its low bun, letting the softly curling waves spill over his shoulders effortlessly. You tried not to stare, but you couldn’t help yourself. You could tell he was wrestling with his thoughts, and you waited with aching anticipation. Eventually, he sighed, “Who was that guy?” He didn’t even try to hide the twinge of jealousy in his voice “Kili, please, don’t worry about it. That was Bard, a family friend. He’s like my brother, we’ve been friends forever!” you exclaimed defensively, “Are you jealous?” “Well-” “Kili, you’re jealous!” your incredulous reply came almost laughingly. “Maybe I am!” His abrupt statement sent your mind reeling. You exhaled and put your hands on your knees, unsure of what to say. “I like you, Y/N. A lot,” he continued, his chocolate brown eyes peering into yours for some kind of response, “You haven’t left my mind since the second time I met you, but I don’t know if you feel the same.” “Kili,” you breathed, moving closer to him, “I feel exactly the same.” With that, you leaned over the console and gently brushed your lips against his. Grinning into the kiss, Kili reached out to pull you closer, somehow pulling you over the console and into his lap. Your fingers tangled themselves in his waves, and you gasped for breath. Looking into his eyes, you realized how much you had craved him. Without warning, you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him close. His arms wrapped you up tightly as you breathed in the scent of freshly brewed coffee in his hair. You leaned against his toned chest, and heard his faint heartbeat drumming against your ear. No words needed to be said, and nothing disturbed your peaceful silence until he spoke. “How about I take you on a real date, hmm?” he asked, “What do you think?” “I’d like that,” you replied, looking up at his cheerful face. “Does a picnic sound alright? I make a mean BLT.” Giggling, you answered,“Kili, anything with you sounds wonderful.” “So it’s settled, then. Friday, 6:30, I’ll pick you up.” “Kili, in case you forgot, you don’t have a car at the moment.” “Oh… uh, yeah. I’ll get that figured out.” “Well then, I’ll be waiting,” you smiled, “Speaking of picking up, I should probably take you home.” “Right,” he sighed, “One more kiss?” You laughed and gave his smirking lips a final kiss before you opened his door and moved to the driver's seat. “Do you want the aux?” you asked as you pulled out of the parking spot, “The cord is in the glove compartment.” He pulled the cord out and connected his phone, and you couldn’t help but notice his background. “Is that your cat?” “Yeah, that’s Misty,” he replied fondly, “This is a picture of her a few months ago when she was just a kitten, she’s a little bigger now.” “She’s adorable!” “I could introduce you, if you’d like,” Kili suggested, trying to hide his excitement. Little did you know, this boy loved his cat more than almost anything. “Really? I’d love to, if it’s alright.” “It’s totally fine with me.” He grinned and opened his music app. You noticed a playlist with your name on it, and you raised your eyebrows. He avoided your questioning eyes and pressed shuffle, and a soft guitar and male voice floated in. Looking at your dashboard display, you read: Second Time- Bruno Major. “We were playing twenty one In the pitch black of a country night I was struck like a drum…” You smiled at the lyrics, and began the route back to Kili’s apartment. “I was dangerously tangled, second time I met you And now I'm so impatient to adore you I crashed my car last night.” You turned abruptly to Kili, who just smiled. “My past week has been written in a song,” he murmured, “It’s a sign.” You barely stopped yourself from laughing aloud as you realized he was dead serious. Quickly regaining your composure, you listened and drove silently until the last notes of the song faded out. The next one began, and you recognized the artist almost immediately. The soft piano and humming of Ella Fitzgerald piped in through the speakers, and you were impressed. “I knew you had taste, but I didn’t know your taste was this good,” you commented, as the verse began. “I’ve got a crush on someone Guess who?” As you glanced at Kili once more, he was gazing out the window at the falling leaves. Feeling your eyes on him, he turned toward you and winked not-so-subtly with a smirk.   “I would kiss you again if I wasn’t driving,” you quipped. “You could pull over,” he replied smoothly, laughing softly at your eye roll. “I’m trying to take you home, but we’ll never get there if you keep distracting me.” He raised his hands in defeat with a cocky grin and turned the music up slightly. “I never had the least notion that I could fall with so much emotion...” The music faded into the background of your thoughts, which were running wild. The fleeting thoughts felt like the fallen leaves breezing by your windows, listless and separated. All you could think of was Kili, and your brain took that in all directions. You pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building. “Y/N,” piped in through your daydreams, but it didn’t register, “Y/N.” “Hmm?” “I said, do you want to come inside?” “I can’t stay long, Kili.”   “Well, do you want to come inside or not?” The next thing you knew, Kili was unlocking his front door, and calling, “I’m home!” You looked at him with a raised eyebrow, confused as to who he was talking to, but then you saw it. A small dark grey cat, which you recognized as a Russian blue, padded softly towards you, meowing sweetly. Kili squatted down, murmuring, “Hello, darling,” as the small cat rubbed her face against his palm and looked expectantly up at you. You knelt down next to Kili as Misty approached you and rubbed herself against your legs. “You’re such a sweetheart,” you said softly to the cat, who meowed in response and snuggled her face into your open hand. “She’s never warmed up to anyone this quick before,” he commented, reaching out to scratch her ear, “Usually, she stays away when company’s over.” “Do you have company often?” “Mostly just my brother, Fili, and my mom and uncle.” “Huh. Is being devastatingly attractive a family trait?” Kili laughed and picked up the cat, cuddling her close to his chest as he said, “Yes, but I’m the best looking.” “That’s good to know. I made the best choice, then,” you returned, scratching Misty’s furry face gently. You were so focused on her that you didn’t notice Kili leaning in to kiss your lips. He caught you by surprise, making you giggle into his mouth. The sound was music to his ears, and he almost dropped Misty to pull you closer. You took the cat and gently placed her on the ground before he could protest, and tangled your fingers in his hair. He kissed you again softly, wrapping his arms around your middle. “Ki,” you murmured, slightly surprised at how easily the nickname fell from your tongue, “I have to go home.” “So soon?” he asked, a pathetic frown crossing his features as he leaned his forehead against yours. “Kili, we’re going on a date in a few days. I promise I’ll text you before then, it’ll be like I never left,” you replied, moving toward the front door. “In that case, I’ll be waiting by my phone.” “Bye, Ki.” “Goodbye, Y/N,” he responded, pressing a final kiss to your forehead. You smiled at him, and shut the door behind you. As you stepped down the stairs, you were almost dizzy with giddiness. The cool, misty rain took you by surprise, but it was a welcome one. As you opened your car door, you felt your phone vibrate. Kili: I miss you already You grinned, and moved to get into your car, but it vibrated again. Kili: look up Looking up at his apartment window, you saw him holding Misty and waving at you with a stupid, toothy grin. You texted back, and watched him check his phone and reply. You: dork Kili: only for you, Y/N You blew him a kiss, and he caught it, pressing it to his heart. Giggling like a child, you got in the car and waved him goodbye for the final time before you drove away.

[osomagine-san]

I know I requested about the brothers S/O passing away, how about their only child passing away? I’m sorry, I love angst haha

Don’t apologize! I love it, too >:3 Good thing there are so many different ways to grieve/handle trauma! I made ‘em all longer than the last one, too

Osomatsu kind of... gives up.

His kid meant everything to him. He loved- no, loves, them so much. They never fought or had big spats-- not that the kid was the best-behaved kid in the world, but Osomatsu would always have a sort of childishness to him that bonded him so effortlessly to them. They were inseparable-- the kid was like a little mini him, and he loved them so much.

Standing in front of their grave with the rest of their family long gone was a lonelier feeling than I can describe or even really relate to-- to lose a child is, to my knowledge, one of the worst things you can experience. So young, too...

He remembers the day it happened. Before he even knew it had happened, he felt his heart suddenly leap into his throat, like he himself was in danger. He wasn’t-- he’d just been watching TV-- so what could the problem be?

As time goes on, he feels the same way. There’s a big, gaping hole inside of him that can’t be filled-- and oh boy, did he ever try to fill it. Alcohol didn’t work, food didn’t work, and talking about it didn’t work, either. There was nothing to be done. All he can do is sit in his sadness and... what? What does he do?

There’s a day, though, where he’s just sitting by himself. The pain is beginning to ebb. Thinking about the most beautiful child that was ever born doesn’t hurt so much at that particular moment. The days that they spent together were the most wonderful days of his life, and right then, he knows that his kid would be so mad at him if he just sat there feeling sad about them. They’d be so mad if they were forgotten or blocked out, too. The memories continue, and he cycles through them like one might cycle through the playlist on an old CD a friend had burned for them years ago. He’d start to cry.

━━━━━━

[Warning for death via car accident and a depiction of dissociation.]

It was strange, on the day of the loss, to see Karamatsu so loud. 

He’d immediately called his brothers to the hospital when the accident had happened. When they arrived, Karamatsu was screaming at the poor receptionist, trying to wrangle any amount of information out of her. This was his son. He needed to see him immediately.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the receptionist said, “but I really can’t tell you anything. There isn’t anything to tell. I don’t have any updates.”

He had to be dragged away from her with the combined force of all five of his brothers.

Osomatsu had managed to calm him down the most. His attitude was so genuinely carefree that it somehow relaxed Karamatsu-- if someone could just laugh and shrug it off, maybe he was just making a big deal out of the situation.

It’s not that he felt like it was certain that everything would be alright, but he, at least, was able to relax.

He doesn’t quite remember what happens next-- just little moments. Following the doctor to the room where his son was lying, bruised and bloody and broken. The sight of his face was clear as day, but his brain did him the favour of blocking the rest out. Voices that sounded far away, comfort just outside of his grasp. The only thing his mind let through was the sound of the even, flat tone the heart monitor had taken.

Days went past in a bit of a blur, like that. Even the funeral passed by in the blink of an eye, and Karamatsu was present for it only in body.

Almost two weeks had passed before he came back to. He hadn’t lost every detail of his memory; he just gained awareness that he’d been floating around for the last two weeks without really accomplishing anything.

He checked the time-- one thirty in the morning. As he got up (good god was he ever hungry-- had he eaten anything?), he noticed that he was back at his parents’ house. His brothers were all back in their futon, sound asleep. It was a comforting sight. Things had gone back a few years.

He just reheated whatever leftovers were in the fridge-- in this house, there were always leftovers. 

He went over it all that night. He recalled the majority of the last two weeks, even if he wasn’t totally present for them. He had a memory of Osomatsu and Todomatsu teaming up, poking at him, trying to get him to respond. Their persistence lasted a surprisingly long time. Osomatsu wanted to draw something lewd on his face and Choromatsu yelling at him not to do that. He’d responded, then, but he couldn’t quite remember what he’d said.

He sighed while he thought about his son. He should have been there, or done something, or something... He wasn’t sure what. He also didn’t really feel guilty about it-- it couldn’t possibly have been his fault. Sure, if he’d kept a better eye on him, it wouldn’t have happened; but it was more on the driver! That text message could have waited! That truck had mangled his only son, and now he was left with nothing.

“...Except for my leftovers.”

“Jyushimatsu, please don’t read my thoughts right now.”

━━━━━━

[Warning for death via illness.]

Choromatsu really only has the one way of dealing with pain and grief-- and it’s cleaning. He cleans the whole house over and over again until it’s completely spotless.

It’s obvious to those who are close to him (such as his partner) that there are some things that he just doesn’t touch very much. For example, the door to their daughter’s room was closed after the incident and he never went in there. She was a messy kid, too-- her clothes and toys still covered the floor to the point you couldn’t step anywhere without stepping on something.

There were also dozens of empty pill bottles on the nightstand as well as a little heart monitor next to her alarm clock (that she hadn’t used in the past year, since she wasn’t really attending school, anymore). There were also a lot of cups and glasses that had yet to be taken back down to the kitchen and washed-- the icing on the cake of this little situation would be finding mould in what used to be cups of various juices.

There were other things that Choromatsu hadn’t touched-- her little shoes were still lined up neatly at the door, and they hadn’t been touched in a long time. Choromatsu had been the one to line them up there in the first place. It was a Friday-- the last day she went to school. She wasn’t feeling well so he was going to let her stay home the following Saturday, but just before dinner, she collapsed.

They had a little whiteboard with a calendar on it. They used to cross off every day-- when Choromatsu or his partner forgot, their daughter would always step up and do it herself. She never let it slip her mind (unlike all of the homework she had due). 

It was painful, but his partner had to bite the bullet and clean out their daughter’s room. It just had to happen. It had been two months and it was starting to feel unhealthy to keep all of that right there, and it was clear that the two of them weren’t going to have another kid anytime soon.

Choromatsu found the door open and his partner cleaning it out. Most of their daughter’s things were packed in clear garbage bags.

“What are you doing?! We can’t throw this out!” Choromatsu never yelled at his partner, but he was just so shocked.

“I’m not throwing it out,” they replied. “This just makes it easier to carry. I rented a storage unit and I’m going to put it all there. I’ll need help with the furni-”

“What?! Why?! You can’t just take all of her things like she was never even he-”

“I’m not! I’m not pretending like she never existed! I’m not trying to get rid of her.”

“Then why don’t you talk about her?”

“What?” They tilted their head and put down the bag that they were piling clean clothes out of the dresser into.

“You just...” Choromatsu looked at his partner and saw all of the times he’d spent with them, and with... her. His voice broke. “You just go quiet when she’s mentioned. You don’t say anything to me. You go back to work, and you smile, and you...”

“Oh, come here.” They hold Choromatsu tightly. He’d started to cry. “I don’t go quiet when she’s mentioned. I try to change the subject when someone brings her up around you. I know that you’re having a hard time dealing with this... I just hate seeing you upset.”

He held his partner close.

“I think,” they continued, “that having all of this stuff around doesn’t help anyone. I think we need it out of the house, at least for a little while. We don’t have to put everything away, but... a lot of it takes up a lot of space.” Choromatsu nodded. “And a lot of these glasses are disgusting.” He laughed lightly, despite the tears. “No, I’m serious. I’d rather just throw a lot of these out.”

━━━━━━

The relationship that Ichimatsu had to have been in ended shortly after the death of his daughter. He loved his family, and losing one member of it was too much. He had to cut out the other.

He became rude and crass with his partner; lazy, never picked up after himself until they just left him. There was no relief-- as soon as they were gone, he realized that he was testing them. And they had failed.

Oh, well. Better that ended sooner rather than later. He knew he could have been a little more kind (they were going through the same thing, after all), but he wasn’t. And he didn’t really care that he wasn’t-- he deserved it, after all. He deserved to lose that child and he deserved to lose his partner.

He lost his job because he just stopped showing up. He wasn’t qualified for it, anyways-- he’d been with them for a few years at that point, and it was only an entry-level job, but anything like that was better than he should have had.

He wound up back at his parents’ house. The cold and almost even cruel outer shell he’d developed was apparently his personality, now. He couldn’t stop being rude and ungrateful, and he hated himself for it-- but again, he didn’t deserve the kindness his parents were showing him, anyways. What did it matter? They might as well throw him out on the streets.

Of course, they didn’t. With a bit of love, Ichimatsu very gradually started to open up again. It started with his cat friends, who cycled through visiting. At first, he felt like he didn’t deserve it, or them. As they continued coming, though, he realized that the cats didn’t really care about that. They had no grasp on “good” or “bad”-- the only thing they had a grasp on was that he was kind to them.

The idea that maybe there was no such thing as “good” or “bad” was liberating to him. He didn’t deserve the cats’ affections, and at the same time, he so did. To love is to give without asking for anything in return.

He gave his child as much as he could while he could. There was no force of fate that put them in his life, and none that took them away. Sometimes, things just happened and it didn’t always have to mean something.

He probably never got together with another partner or ever had another child, but he started a cat adoption center. He let strays come and go as they please, and took in cats that were abandoned and gave them to loving homes.

━━━━━━

A hole manifested itself in Jyushimatsu’s life, and no matter what he did, he just couldn’t shake it. It was omnipresent, and the hole pestered and festered until he couldn’t take it anymore, and then some.

The hole manifested itself in strange and different ways-- sometimes as a void in his chest where his heart should be; on days like that, he’d clutch at the fabric of his sweater, like he was expecting something to be there, and then come up short. The surprise would cross his face only for a moment before he continued on like it had never happened.

Sometimes it was a sudden chill that he couldn’t quite shake. The initial shiver lasted only a moment, but the cold stayed with him until he’d fall asleep that night.

A couple of times, it manifested in shadows. He’d stare into the darkest corners of the room, and it would be hard for him to pull his eyes away. They had a presence, almost.

Either way, after the initial accident, he was able to mostly fully recover afterwards. There were some harder days when he could hardly make it out of bed, sure, but as more and more time passed, the fewer and fewer those days became.

The hole stayed with him, though.

━━━━━━

Todomatsu genuinely loses all memory of losing his son.

He continues his days as normal. He calls for him to go to school, and he comments a lot about how little TV his son has been watching. He’ll continue on to say how proud he is of him, because all that time must be spent studying, right?

His partner doesn’t know what to do. It’s hard to tolerate sometimes, because they feel so alone. Their worst fear had just happened, and the one person they thought they could share in their grief with was only making it hurt worse. They’ve broken down in front of him, begging him to remember, but he only got concerned for his S/O. Before they called his brothers, they thought that they were going crazy.

They got in all kinds of fights about him. Todomatsu, stubborn as ever, refused to believe or acknowledge it. He was beyond defensive about the topic-- he was rather laid back about most other things. He and his S/O had never fought like this about anything.

It’s during summer vacation that Todomatsu starts coming to. He notices that his son is nowhere to be found. He must be at a friend’s house, he thinks. His S/O had notified the other parents at their kids’ school that Todomatsu was having trouble coping with the loss, so the parent of his son’s best friend knew that trying to tell Todomatsu what had happened would amount to nothing. Of course, they didn’t lie to him when he called after a week, worried-- they told him straight up that they hadn’t seen his son in a long time.

In a panic, he called a lot of other parents-- even those that didn’t like his son. He was missing, and he needed to find him.

His S/O got a few calls from concerned parents about the situation and went home early. They found Todomatsu on the floor, sobbing and panting.

“I think something bad happened.”

[livinginsunnyhell]

Ask game for fanfic writers! ⌨️🖊📓📝

1. What fandoms do you write for?

2. What pairings do you write for?

3. What is your most popular fanfic?

4. Do you write original stories as well?

5. What fanfic of yours should everyone have read?

6. What is a fandom you will never write for?

7. What is a ship you will never write for?

8. Archive of Our Own, FanFiction.net, Wattpad, Tumblr, etc. which platform do you prefer?

9. What are your favorite fanfics?

10. How do you stay motivated to finish what you’ve started?

11. What’s your longest fanfic?

12. Do you want to break your readers‘ heart or make them laugh?

13. What is your planning process?

14. What have others criticized about your fanfic?

15. OCs or no OCs?

16. Do you use sentence starters, writing prompts and/or fandom headcanons for your fanfics?

17. Do you use/follow advice from writing blogs/posts?

18. What is your favorite writing prompt?

19. Dead or overused tropes?

20. Can we get a list of all of your current available fanfics?

21. What’s your shortest fanfic?

22. Do you listen to music during your writing process? What music do you listen to while you’re writing?

23. Long chapters or short chapters?

24. How many WIPs (work-in-progress) do you’ve got?

25. How many WIPs will you finish?

26. First-person-narrative or third-person-narrative?

27. Do you take requests?

28. I will name you three things (drunk Ian — shared bachelor party — Gallavich): write a paragraph or two!

29. What’s more difficult? Fanfics or original work?

30. What writing software do you use?

31. Do you use beta/sensitivity readers?

32. Past or present tense?

33. Do friends and family know that you write fanfics?

34. How did you find the magical world of fanfics?

35. What is your favorite review?

36. Did you ever delete a work of yours?

37. Did your work ever get plagiarized?

38. Do you partake in any fanfic/writing events? (Big bangs, zines, NaNoWriMo, etc?)

39. Collaborations or working solo?

40. Do you have any rituals before uploading a fic?

41. What is something you don’t like about your writing?

42. Rudest review?

43. Guilty pleasure tropes and scenarios?

44. Does fanart of your fanfic exist?

45. Do fanfics of your fanfic exist?

46. Few long essay reviews or many short reviews?

47. What fanfic of yours is truly underrated?

48. What is your favorite sentence that you’ve used in a fanfic?

49. Where do you draw inspiration from?

50. Can we get a teaser for an upcoming chapter?

(Don't feel obligated to answer. Thought if you're into these kinda things, that'd be a nice ask. ;))

Oh this is so nice!! Thanks for sending this @annansmith

I chose a few of them to do. 

1. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently, I’m writing for Shameless (Gallavich) but I’ve written for:

Veronica Mars (LoVe), Veep (Amy/Dan), Arrow (Oliver/Felicity), Once Upon A Time (Hook/Emma), The Old Guard (Joe/Nicky), That 70′s show (Hyde/Jackie), Sons of Anarchy (Tara/Jax), Vampire Diaries (Klaroline), Hart of Dixie (Zoe/Wade), Gilmore Girls (Rory/Jess), X-men (Rogue/Pyro), One Tree Hill (Haley/Nathan), and a few others.

2. What pairings do you write for?

Now I write Gallavich. 

But I’d say my top ones I love writing for now (my fanfiction writing has spanned about 14 years) are Dan/Amy, Veronica/Logan, Klaus/Caroline, Mickey/Ian.

3. What is your most popular fanfic?

My most popular fic on Ao3 is The Course of True Love (Arrow) and on FF Of Bloodshed, Babies, and Epic LoVe (Veronica Mars)

4. Do you write original stories as well?

Yes, I do. I’m working on a book, well, two books. But it’s going very slowly. The first is a memoir of my travels from around the world and the second is a vampire urban fantasy one. We’ll see how it goes, but I’d like to finish them by next year and see if I can get them published, but it’s hard so who knows. 

10. How do you stay motivated to finish what you’ve started?

Well, recently I’ve really been trying to finish everything I write. I have a lot of WIPs from years and years ago and even within the the last year, so this answer is pretty new. Basically, I focus on one fic at a time and write a little every day to stay motivated. Now, I try to update once a week on a certain day. I think comments/reviews and kudos and people being genuinely encouraging helps though. It’s also what’s gotten me considering finishing my older fics.

11. What’s your longest fanfic?

Of Bloodshed, Babies, and Epic Love (over 165k)

13. What is your planning process?

Now, it’s different. I have a doc of ideas and I wait to see which one I can’t seem to shake. Then I plan out each chapter with a few sentences and I have a list of things I want to focus on in the story. Usually, each story now has a kind of theme to it and a main focus. I sometimes will just want to write a certain situation/scene/focus and the story is born from there. But what really helps is writing down chapter 1, 2, etc. and having a sentence or two for what I want to happen. It doesn’t always go according to plan, but I never get writers block or forget what happened in previous chapters now.

16. Do you use sentence starters, writing prompts and/or fandom headcanons for your fanfics?

Probably a mixture of fandom (or my personal) headcanons. I don’t start with prompts unless it’s a challenge or sentence starters. Usually, I have a scene I already want to write in my head and then I sit down and write it.

17. Do you use/follow advice from writing blogs/posts?

Yes, I’ve read several books on writing. My undergrad was creative writing too, so I learned a lot there. I also follow writing instagram accounts which are helpful. I take everything I learn with a grain of salt and I see what is best for me. The best advice I heard recently was short sentences and so now I’m experimenting with that.

20. Can we get a list of all of your current available fanfics?

There’s a lot from many different fandoms. I used to be on FF.net as Psyc0gurl0 and now I’m ProstheticLoVe on a03. I like writing on ao3 better cause it’s easier and I love the tagging process. Plus the gallavich fandom on there is unreal. So to think about going back to ff.net to finish my WIPs seems like such a process now. 

Currently though, I’m writing an Ian’s POV 5 chapter fic called Chocolate. It’s not out yet, but it’ll focus on Ian from 1x06 to 1x09 or so and how his feelings for Mickey change and evolve. It’s the second part to a series called Chocolate and Cigarettes. Mickey’s POV was Cigarettes.

22. Do you listen to music during your writing process? What music do you listen to while you’re writing?

Yes, I listen while writing but I need silence while editing. I have a Love (lol) playlist. It’s basically all the love songs that remind me of couples I ship. So for example, The Acid is in there a lot because their music is great, but also Basic Instinct is so haunting. Overall, I like all music except country, so sometimes I’ll listen to my larger playlists while writing. 

23. Long chapters or short chapters?

So this has changed over the years. Initially, I wrote short chapters, then when I got back into fanfiction while writing klaroline they got a lot longer and now it’s just basically where the chapter has a natural ending. So the chapters are between 4 - 10k words depending. I try to get over 4k though. Right now, once I’m done with my current fic, I really want to write something over 100k.

24. How many WIPs (work-in-progress) do you’ve got?

A lot...none in Shameless though. Well, I guess my current one, but I haven’t posted that yet. I’d say I probs have about 10 WIPs spanning different fandoms. I know. But my goal for 2021 is to pick two and finish them. 

25. How many WIPs will you finish?

Not all of them. Some of them are from years and years ago. But I’d like to finish the ones that I still get reviews on. So there’s a SOAs fic I want to finish cause that fandom is so lovely. I also want to finish a klaroline one cause that was fun to write. And my Amy/Dan ones I’d like to finish. I would like to finish my Veronica Mars ones (I have two) but they need a lot more attention, so when people message me about them I tell them the planned ending.

28. I will name you three things (drunk Ian — shared bachelor party — Gallavich): write a paragraph or two!

“Fuck, Mickey, I probably shouldn’t have had the third Hot Toddy,” Ian grimaced as the world around him spun. 

Mickey laughed at him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Ian wanted to think his future husband just wanted to pull him closer, but he had a feeling it was to steady him.

“Probably should’ve cut you off earlier,” Mickey said tugging Ian closer. 

Ian wobbled and plopped down on the back steps of the porch. Mickey followed suit a moment letter and they both looked out toward the backyard where the Gallaghers, Balls, and a few of the Milkovich cousins were alternatively huddling around a fire, drinking, and dancing.

“I blame Lip for making us have this stupid shared bachelor party in the first place,” Ian grumbled.

Mickey kissed him on the forehead as Ian lay his head on his shoulder. “It’s Sandy’s fault too.”

Ian hmmed in response and Mickey knew he was going to fall asleep any moment. He ran his hand up and down Ian’s arm and watched as Debbie bounced over to them.

“Jesus, you aren’t even married yet and you two are like an old married couple. Are you going to come dance or what?” she whined.

Mickey looked down at Ian, whose eyes were already closed, and then back up to Debbie. She was watching them with knowing eyes.

“We’ll dance at the wedding. Go grab Lip, I need his help to get Sleeping Beauty upstairs.”

Debbie turned to go get her eldest brother and Mickey looked back down at Ian. In his sleep, he nuzzled Mickey’s shoulder, breathed deeply, and a gentle smile appeared there. 

3 more days and they’d officially be husbands. 

34. How did you find the magical world of fanfics?

I was about 10 and my cousin used to write a buffy the vampire slayer zine. There was a link to a site called buffyworld.com or something like that. And I found fanfic that way. There was a link on the site to ff.net and that’s how I stumbled across that. I stayed there for many many years until my second time in the veronica mars fandom around 2014 when I was lead to a03 and then I’ve been there ever since. On and off, my writing has fluctuated through the years based on my personal life.

49. Where do you draw inspiration from?

Everywhere! omg. It’s insane. Gallavich I love writing for. There’s so many different facets to them, but truly everywhere I find inspiration. I have a whole doc of gallavich ideas that have stemmed from other fanfics, headcanons from me and other people, rewatching episodes, what’s going to happen in s11, cute moments i’d like to see happen, holidays, and just general life. I saw a pic of WW2 vets who were in a long term relationship and i was like mickey and ian! another idea is born.  

[tylerwritez]

Tuesday, june 22 2021

I've noticed I'm getting "the shiverys" or "the twitchy" a lot today. Like every time I FEEL something I take a moment to violently tic.... every time I think about certain things I tic.... good things, bad things, things from an hour ago and things from years ago. Tic, tic, tic.

Also, I have... some stuff to explain. Its really no big deal, but you know me: I'll freak out about it anyway. Basically I dissed my friend (rightfully so) around the time that we had just met cos they did something that threw me off.

He saw it in my phone... NOW. it's not RELEVANT anymore and I've since redacted that criticism...and now I gotta explain it to him anwyays. Oh well. I'm good at this stuff. I can get myself outta any situation. I dont even know why I'm talking like this tho... it's not a "Situation" it's just smthn I gotta explain rq.

Oh, today's song recommendation is Spirit Crusher by Death. I'm a huge Death fan...

Also! I gotta study... for my replacement exam. How stressful. Its about photosynthesis, but like, it's not simple. We went DEEP inside those fucking leaves.

One sec, lemme hook up my IV tube

Not an ACTUAL IV tube... just my headphones. But since I'm so #emo, it might as well be a fucking IV tube with the way that I cant live without it.

Its 3:08 and I'm walking home now. I was upset last night but me and Star have made up now lol... it was thAt easy. I'm so defective, making shit hard when it doesnt need to be.

It's so hot out damn. Idk. I had school today, so I had Bio class... I ACTUALLY PAID ATTENTION for once. I had lunch with Star and her friend group, and I honestly kinda feel like they're MY friends now too, even just a little bit.

Actually, I used to rant about feeling lonely like all the time but now I have so many friends it's crazy they all keep inviting me places and it's like people WANT ME AROUND... idk. It makes me happy.

Today I gotta ask if tommroow after school I can go to Bee's house to watch Supernatural (famous homoerotic ghost show)

I should also add songs to Erin's spotify playlist for our picnic saturday which I still need permission to go to.

I gotta ask for Wednesday after school to watch Insidious with Jay  which is apparently really good

Also hes the friend that I gotta explain stuff to... the DrAmA... the ThEaTrE....

Update my dad said yes to hanging out with Bee but first I'm gonna miss school to fix my broken brackets on my braces

Also turns out the house I THOUGHT we were moving into has substantial damage from shifting so... we aRENT moving there.

In case you didn't know, shifting is when like the house that's been built literally SHIFTS like it moves around.

Anwyays Jay just texted me... I'm gonna change into shorts since it's hot, set up my study area,.... and respond to him.

The time is 3:22 p.m.

Wish me. Luck.

Luck is plentiful! As it so often is in my risky, risky life.

I play my cards right. It's a learnt skill.

But also there wasnt much to explain since it passed already and was tiny anywyas.

XD so I've made up with the whole goddamn world by now.

Its 6:31, we saw 1 house. Only one. Its kinda hot out but I'm gonna bike now since we just had supper. I finally finished my homework... I just have to finish one mixed media piece as my final project for art!

Friday is my replacement. On photosynthesis and cell resp. We know this. But what I didn't mention, or I dont THINK I did, is that if I finish my art project before then I have the second block FREE!!! Me, Star, and her friend

A are planning to leave for second block and maybe get mint chocolate chip ice cream!

Also I might eat her out XD

Anyways idk. I hope I can bike tonight to call Jay.

I keep accidentally using people's real names here then having to correct it... I dont know how much i care about MY identity being discovered... but to have my friends doxxed would suck.

Man I feel bad abt saying fuck star last night cos we made up....

Wait we r looking at another house? Idk I'm in the car still waiting to go home

Oh wait no now we r goin home

Its 6:39... I hope I still have time.

I went biking, called Jay. Went home. Idk, friendly conversation... we talked more tonight and I also talked to my other friend A. Jay is... I LOVE HIM?? SO MUCH??? I feel so happy. Talking to him thinking about him seeing his STUPID FUCKING FACE JESUS. his eyes alone... I could stare at his face all day probably. I want to kiss him... hOLD HIS HAND... omg... huG HIM!!! Eofjwpxjwie he's so sweet like I can't even... and I'm proabably not good enough for him like. Wtf. Hes easily a 10. And I dont rate things outta 10. How tf do I end up with HIM? Doing stuff, as friends. Like wHAT. I guess I got lucky XD. He says he loves my personality and I'm hot XD ofc I dont see it myself. But like. JESUS CHRIST he could proabably easily pull whOever. XD me?

Whatever though. As long as we r together and stuff. I LOVE HIM A LOT. he said he loved me. Every time he says that it makes me so overly happy.

Maybe I'm just sappy and stuff.... whatever. I think it would be nice to be hugged by him.

Yeah I'm cheesy.

I'm sorta tired now so maybe I'm not writing the best.

I just keep thinkinf about love. Love is a muscle of evil suggestion. But how evil can it really be? I am just a human being and that is all. Everything else is applied. I am just a human being with soemthing in my heart that pulls me all over the place. Love is this strange thing because I'm fucked up and to be able to love without that fucked up part of me, without the damage... is this complicated, hard thing to do and I can NEVER tell if I'm doing it right but I know I'm DOING IT. I know I FEEL LOVE. And soemtimes it's such an intense thing like when you go to surf on a wave at the beach with ur belly but u hit it wrong and it's so big and overwhelming it washes over you and PULLS you down to the bottom and smushes your face into the sand and YOU CANT BREATHE jesus Christ it's like that.

Or maybe I just want to experience love as it should be felt.

Obviously all of my problems surrounding this Damage could be easily fixed if I went to therapy but. there are reasons I can't.

I LOVE a lot. Too much for my own good. Enough to hurt me, get me into trouble, etc etc but also... enough to liberate me. I LOVE. I love Jay. So much. LIKE. MY BRAIN ORBITS AROUND HIM CONSTANTLY THINKING OF HIM AND PRAISING HIM AND MWUAH HE IS SO LOVELY I BOW BEFORE HIM...

I think as much as I love, a lot of the times I tend to focus even more on BEING loved.

If I am told I am loved, and shOwN I am loved... it is one of the most powerful things. Especially since I was literally emotionally neglected in childhood... yeah. I feel like I'm always trying to fill that hole.

Not EVERY feeling I have is for that reaosn but sometimes, if you tell me you love me, show me you love me, hug me,... I'll like start crying,,, that's the childhood emotional neglect kicking in. If you call me #smol and #cute and say I look young and fragile which happens more often than you'd think XD, I know I'm not supposed to like that shit, so I act like I dont....but I do. Which is PROBABLY ALSO THE CEN 🤪  like whatever lol

Anwyays I'm fucked up

You see how quickly things become complicated in my mind?

Convoluted? Is that the word?

Whatever. I OVERCOMPLICATE THINGS COS I OVERTHINK THEM BECAUSE I'm LITERALLY MENTALLY ILL IN SO MANY DIFFERENT WAYS. I'm not joking. I obviously have unresolved undiagnosed "issues"

I do Suspect things, though.

I can make a list

Maybe I shouldn't.

Maybe I will.

I shouldnt.

Whatever.

I used to hate when people brought up my self harm. I would actually panic. I still self harm but now? Now I'm fine with anyone  talking about it as long as it's not an adult who can get me into trouble/force me into therapy over it. Because really? I kinda like having it mentioned. It's kinda validating and it's like hey... people can see that I'm sick.

I dont do it so people talk to me about it though. Dont get me wrong. If I did, I'd go vertically on the arms, not for suicide but so it healed and people would ask XD.

My scars are actually VERY hidden... cos I never intended for ANYONE to see. But for those who DO see them,,,, it's nice soemtimes to have people express concern.

I dont wanna be PITIED or anything, but idk I just think to myself "wow, they're CONCERNED... about ME... they arent angry or mean... they didnt yell at me or threaten me... they respect my autonomy and privacy...

And they CARE ABOUT ME..." and it makes me cry.

That's also the CEN.

I dont know. I just like when people express genuine concern. Even if they see and then just ask if I'm okay. That's all it takes cos then I go wow.

Its validating and irs lovely because finally people care... FINALLY PEOPLE CARE. FINALLY I GET SOME EMPATHY OR SYMPATHY AND NO ANGER.

Even just having them brought up tells me its noticeable enough

My brain does this thing where it thinks nothing bad that's ever happened to me was Bad Enough for me to be upset about.

And I dont know... its nice sometimes to be told shit like "omg that looks so bad" or to see that people who do see my cuts are somewhat shocked or revolted... it's nice because I go... "hey, it was bad enough for them..."

Or to have people comment on them with concern. Just ANYTHINT WHERE PEOPLE NOTICE IT AND ARENT ASSHOLES ABOUT IT IS VALIDATING.

Because I'm not used to that...

Because CEN

I'm. The worst perosn on the fucking planet.

I should kill myself.

I suddenly actually feel so self hating I do want to kill myself... oh god.

I ruin everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. What have I done. Like. Why. Oh god.

I'm just remembering when Star said my kindness seemed like an act. And how I've been called out for seeming fake like 2 other times.

DO I SEEM FAKE???? I DONT EVER PUT ON ACTS OF KINDESS.... CONCIOUSLY? but the very idea that I could be perceived that way...

Should I like not try to be nice or some shit?

Jesus christ she hurts my feelings even now when it was a long time ago.

But I cant blame her. I can't blame anyone for how i feel except my parents because they left me with fucking. Heart nerve damage or some shit.

I'm tired and now I'm sad too. Goodnight guys.

[missorgana]

coffee with an old friend

pairing: finn/poe dameron, background rey/rose tico

fandom: star wars (sequel trilogy)

rating: teen and up

word count: 6420

warning: swearing

summary: This gap year was supposed to be uneventful. Free of stumbling into his childhood friend slash man of his dreams, at least, but it seems like Finn's waking up to a surprise every day now. (coffee shop au + childhood friends)

(after being stuck on this in 3 months, i’m back!! i’m not too happy with the ending tbh but,, i just want it done and i miss them a lot. this isn’t beta read so all mistakes are my own! really hope you all enjoy this!!)

read on ao3

Finn’s missed London.

He only landed a week ago, but the memories from his childhood are already creeping back into his mind.

He still knows these streets like the palm of his hand.

As much Finn loves California, it can’t really compare, now, standing in the misty afternoon, the rush of the stores very much going despite the weather.

It almost seems quiet now, upon his return. The fact that he thought this was crowded as a child is incredible.

He’s missed the kindness, as well as the blunt honesty of the British.

And, surprisingly, the smell of rain’s missed too.

It’s almost comforting.

Finn knows he can’t stand in the rain forever, though, and if there’s something London never gets enough of, it’s coffee shops.

So it’s only a five minute walk before he spots one, which he, oddly enough, doesn’t remember seeing here before. Must be newly opened.

And there’s plenty of tables available once Finn’s inside, only residents are people looking around his age, occupying their laptops with cappuccinos on the side.

And, figuring he’ll go for the usual ice latte, the queue it is. It’s only consisting of one person, really, so Finn’s not sure he can call it that.

Regardless, when it’s his turn, he quickly forgets that thought.

Because a man he hasn’t seen in years in standing behind the counter.

Finn’s mind goes back to video games and model planes and caramel apples and it’s almost as if he’s ten years old again.

Poe fucking Dameron.

He’s changed, so very much, but Finn’s a hundred percent certain it’s him.

The curly haired man in front of him takes a minute to register what’s happening, so he’s probably just as surprised as Finn himself.

His face morphs from cluelessness to a slightly open mouth to a smile that slowly grows.

“Poe?”

“Finn! Buddy!”

And Finn really can’t think about how that old pet name makes his stomach feel right now, cause a woman with a slightly loud child, standing behind him, tells him to “Hurry up, already!”

So, naturally, Finn apologizes while getting his order out. Poe looks disappointed.

Cut to two minutes later where his coffee is called, by another barista, cause Poe’s seemingly busy, and Finn shouldn’t instantly feel sad about that, but he does.

That is, until he notices the scribbles on the cup saying, I’m off in an hour and a half. Wait for me?

Finn should be looking for a job right now. Should let his parents know he’s back in town, they’ll probably give him a three course meal and convince him to stay forever.

But despite not having seen the man for four years, he still can’t say no to Poe Dameron. Damn him.

Which is why Finn sticks around, shuffling his playlists and texting Rey for a bit.

She’ll surely freak out when she hears about this.

He should really tell her, but he spots Poe getting rid of the apron and Finn figures he’ll call her in the evening.

The older man, only by two years, he reminds himself, sits down across from him.

Finn wants to stand up for a hug, but doesn’t.

He wants to hold the hand that’s placed on the table, but doesn’t.

Regardless, Poe looks beyond excited. He’s grown a scruffy beard, and it’s funny to see the long curls again.

Finn nearly cried when he had shaved it all off for the army, but his old friend doesn’t need to know that.

“Oh, man. Hey, I- well. When did you get back in town, buddy?” and his voice is a tad hoarse, but warm, and Finn’s stomach starts doing loops on itself from hearing it again.

He can’t really deny it, can he?

Ever since the sleepover the two had with Rey, when they were ten and Poe twelve, Finn’s had this feeling.

This feeling when the boy grabbed his hand and told him his parents could take them to Comic Con, and Finn’s young mind didn’t get it, then, but he did when he turned fourteen.

Sixteen year old Poe texted him a little past midnight and asked if he could come over, which is far from unusual for them, and the golden boy laid in his bean bag, concentrating hard on the ceiling, only to shift his gaze to Finn and tell him, “I think I’m gay.”

Two days later, Finn asked his mum what the difference between liking a girl and a boy is, and she smiled that knowing smile of hers, “Well, depends on the boy and the girl.”

And he can’t really claim he’s surprised that his childhood crush washes over him in full force, after only a couple of hours worth of reunion.

Fucking hell.

All the time he spent crying over Poe leaving for the military makes him feel utterly stupid.

He feels utterly stupid sitting here, across from the man he’s been in love with since his early teens, who is just as, if not more, beautiful as he was four years ago, can he just stop?

“A week ago.” Finn tells the older man, coughing as a way of possibly restraining the thoughts going through his head, about his friends’ hands, that must be unhealthy, “More importantly, when did you get back?”

And Poe turns his eyes to the table in a soft laugh, proceeding to rest his chin on his hands before replying, “A year ago, more or less.”

“You- what? Why didn’t I hear about this?” Finn asks, and immediately regrets.

He can’t say it’s not completely on him for their loss of contact.

Poe’s number’s still saved on his phone, no doubt, which has caused him many late night considerations of a confession call, just for the hell of it.

But, well, his friend became less frequent, too. Which is understandable, because he was a pilot in the fucking military.

Finn feels bad, and somehow Poe realises this, cause he grabs his hand over the table, “If you’re about to apologise for losing contact, save it, okay? Things like that happen, I don’t blame you.”

And now they’re holding hands, and god, stop it already, before Finn does something stupid, like kissing the man across from him.

Soon enough, Poe retracts his hand, without seeming fazed.

The phone pings for twentieth time, and Finn apologises, “It’s Rey.”

“Oh my god!” the other man exclaims, “How is she?”

And Finn has to smile, there’s so many updates from their lives, and he swears this fuzzy feeling he’s having needs to leave.

They’ve always been friends. Best friends.

The only thing in his entire life Finn haven’t told Poe about is this, something Rey’s encouraged him to do numerous times.

And maybe he should’ve, but he always thought his best friend too good for him, and even if he didn’t, the thought of getting rejected always kicked in when he was close to coming clean.

But what’s the point of it now?

Poe probably has a gorgeous, strong, strategic, interesting veteran boyfriend waiting for him at home.

If there was no chance when they were teenagers attached at the hip, how would there be any now?

“She’s great!” Finn finally tells him, storing all the emotions in the back of his mind for later, “Still in Paris, but she swore to me yesterday that she would book a flight now that I’m back.”

“Hold her to that. A reunion’s just what I need, buddy. My friends from the army are awesome, but I can’t help comparing them to you two, you know?”

Finn really hopes he isn’t blushing, but he’s feeling embarrassed, and warm.

Maybe he should feel bad about being satisfied about this, but he’s relieved, because Poe hasn’t replaced him. Or Rey. He never believed he would, but the fear was always present.

What Finn expects to be yet another text from the last member of their trio turns out to be one from his mum, and yeah, he should probably get going before she comes and gets him herself.

He doesn’t really want this to end. Let him reside in this blissful warmth, pretend his childhood crush’s actually returns his feelings, or something, okay?

“Sorry, Poe, it’s uh- it’s my mum,” Finn tells his friend with a chuckle, “I wanna catch up, but my mum also wanna catch up, so...”

“Of course! Don’t worry, buddy,” he tells him, and Finn takes a small happiness in the disappointed look Poe’s trying to hide, “You still have my number, right?”

And he doesn’t know if he should be embarrassed or hopeful right now, but Finn nods and his friend brightens up.

“Perfect. Still need to show you my pictures! Got loads of my plane- or well, the one I was assigned to…” Poe stumbles a bit on his words.

He’s always been confident, at least that’s how Finn always saw him as, smiles that may go to the cocky side after a couple drinks, hands rubbing his friends’ back when they’re nervous, this courage to always say what he means, even when it’s frowned upon.

Especially when it’s frowned upon.

But of course Finn, and Rey, saw the rare moments aside from that. The soft, the sad, the unknowing. 

Before Poe Dameron announced his sexuality in the high school speaker system, he told Finn in the middle of the night, the light of his phone screen illuminating him, and a crack in his voice that he’ll deny if Finn ever brings it up.

“If you want to, that is!” the older man adds quickly, and Finn has to stop him with a nod, “Of course.”

And well, he can’t really postpone it anymore, which is why Finn stands up, and, because fuck it, goes in for a hug. Luckily, Poe seems just as willing.

He pats his older friend on the back a couple times for good measure, to distance himself from the way his stomach is clenching still.

And maybe, he hopes, it’ll stop affecting him the next time they meet. Maybe.

…

Today is Sunday.

In his childhood, this day always meant going to church, and well, as much as he respects his mother’s religion, he guesses he grew out of it.

Nowadays, Sunday is usually his assigned ‘do absolutely nothing day’, and has been since he turned sixteen.

Yet Finn somehow finds himself doing something. It’s tragic, really.

But Poe texted with the question of hey bud! you doing anything today?, followed by if you’re up for looking at pictures, you know. coffee on the house? ;), and he can’t exactly ignore Poe Dameron, can he?

After staring at the winky face emoticon for way longer than he should, like he hadn’t seen it a million times before, Finn decides to reply and make his way to where their reunion took place a week ago.

And boy, if he thought the coffee shop was empty then, it’s definitely void now.

Only two residents present, an old woman knitting, and a man possibly in his late thirties, typing away on a laptop like his life depends on it.

“Buddy!” Finn recognizes the exclaim, and gives his friend a wave.

And Poe is already sitting at a table, surprisingly.

A look to the counter reveals a blond barista, hair put up in two buns, apron sporting an abundance of colorful pins and, what he assumes is their business catchphrase, You can’t buy happiness, but you can buy coffee - and that’s pretty close.

Just like when they first reunited, Finn’s undivided attention is once again drawn to his childhood crush, smiling at him as if they hadn’t stopped calling each other for four years. Finn might as well have a permanent stomach ache by now.

“You’re off already?” he questions his friend, taking the seat across from him, where a iced latte was already placed for him.

That’s just a friendly gesture, right? Nothing more for Finn to overthink for the rest of his life.

Poe nods, “An hour ago. Kaydel needs some extra hours, anyway, so I’m getting off early.” and his curls bops as he gestures to the woman operating the coffee machines.

Today’s a bit warmer compared to the last time, Finn mentally notes. Perhaps their heating was broken before.

Not that he has time to freeze or sweat or anything similar when Poe’s in front of him, and Finn is absolutely embarrassed that his feelings are hitting him this hard.

After their first meeting three days ago, Finn called Rey, and of course, he can’t keep anything secret from her, so it was less than twenty minutes before she’d gotten the news out of him.

“Finn! You know what this means?!” she yelled to him, the surprised yelp sounding in the background, which he assumed belonged to her girlfriend, and, well.

Finn laughed to her, nervously, “That you’re coming back so we can have it like old times again?” and he could not help but think that Rey was rolling her eyes at him, all the way over in France.

He doesn’t doubt that Rey wants to see Poe again, but he also knows that she never let his childhood crush on their friend go.

“Well, duh,” she told him, then clicked her tongue, “Buuut now you can see him on a daily basis.”

And Finn had played dumb, don’t judge him, okay? That day was already a lot for his mind, and heart, to handle, so he needed a bit of distance from it all.

“Uh, I guess?”

“Finn.”

“What?”

“You still not going to tell him?”

“Tell him what?” he told her, with a smile creeping up, and he didn’t know how to interpret the laugh coming out of the speaker, but damn, he missed her.

Daily facetime and texting is great, of course, they never go a day without saying something to each other, at least once. But it’s been a year since he’s seen her in person, and she’s his best friend.

She was always the one who arranged the sleepovers in their school days, and Finn has to admit it, the study plan she made for him is immensely helpful. Rey has a way of being in control that Finn hasn’t mastered yet.

“You’re impossible.”

And honestly, he has to agree with her, cause now he’s drinking an iced latte, his heart beating a little too fast, while Poe shows him pictures. He tries hard not to think about which one, of the many people his friend tells him about, could be his boyfriend.

“So there’s Hux - that’s his last name, never would tell us his first name, weird guy - Jessika, Phasma, Snap, Zori and Kylo.” Poe’s listing names, pointing to the faces.

Finn can’t help but smile, watching Poe’s enthusiastic arm movement, looking at each photo with nostalgia, his voice smooth like honey.

He notices his leg jumping up and down, that’s always a thing he does when he’s excited and it used to drive Rey insane. Finn doesn’t mind it.

“Of course you don’t mind.” She would tell him, whenever he took Poe’s side in the argument about whether or not it was annoying, and each time he would desperately hide his blush, giving Rey an intense look until she laughed at him.

Finn knows she’d never say.

They’ve joked about it, they really have, but she would never betray his trust like that. They pinkie promised, anyway, so if Rey did let it slip, she’ll hear for it til the end of eternity.

Finn knows the reminiscing smile on Poe’s face, and he has to clear his throat to not let his thoughts drag him to overthinking all this, “I bet you miss them, now.”

Poe nods. “I do.”

He then shrugs, and Finn hasn’t given up on reading his friend, but it sure is getting harder.

“But also, spending every waking moment with the same group of people is well,” he laughs at himself, “It can put anyone on edge sometimes, you know? Especially cause there’s no way to be alone. Not really.”

All Finn can do is nod in silent agreement.

He can’t imagine how that must be. Hell, he thought a dorm room would be the worst living situation possible, before he headed to America.

And because those words touch him in an unexplainable way, and because Finn can’t ever keep his damn mouth shut can he, he lets the question, “Did you miss me?” out into their comfortable silence.

Finn’s curses himself immediately.

The dreamy man in front of him looks up with a smile, again, this smile that’s soft but also utterly charming. And now he’s biting his lip, and well, Finn doesn’t know how to interpret any of this.

Poe takes his hand across the table, but turns it so his knuckles are resting in his friend’s palm. “Goes without saying, buddy.”

And how in the world is this happening, how are they holding hands, again?

Finn cannot possibly say he hasn’t experience this kind of affection from Poe before, because, well, he has. Poe loved holding his hand, Rey’s too.

And he could never tell whether his friend was making it harder for him, or, if this touch was what Finn craved from him, even if they could never actually be a thing, then, at least, he’ll have this.

Honestly, it’s return is more or less making him unsure of how to breathe.

Unlike their previous meeting, Poe doesn’t draw back his hand immediately, maybe only a few seconds later, and Finn wishes he didn’t count the seconds, but he did.

Surely, Poe must be noticing his nerves? Or maybe, possibly, he thinks this is Finn’s natural state, around everyone. 

He wishes he knew, and he knows he should be telling him then, like Rey says, but boy, it’s terrifying, the thought of just telling him about his seemingly forever lasting crush on his childhood friend after randomly stumbling upon him and barely knowing about his life now.

Finn must be deemed to suffer, he thinks. If his feelings haven’t faded away now, he has this nagging fear, that, maybe, it never will.

And he may have confessed his thoughts about Poe to Rey, but what he hasn’t told her about is the Valentine’s Day letter he may or may not have written and slipped into his best friend’s locker.

Yeah, it’s, just, listen, okay?

It was short and sweet, or at least, he liked to think that. His fifteen year old self had sat up till a way too late hour to finish it.

Guess you can say it wasn’t really a letter, because Finn liked music, and for a long time, he’s expressed himself easier way that way. So he may have put a list of songs that made him think of his friend. Is that cheesy?

Finn would be lying if he said he could clearly remember which he put down, it’s been so long, and truth be told, he might’ve desperately tried to wipe that memory, anyway.

He signed off as a ‘secret admirer’, obviously, because he’s read those romantic teen novels, and there’s no way he had… the guts? The bravery? He doesn’t really know, Finn just knew he would die if Poe knew it was him.

Rey’s said before he tends to exaggerate, but whatever.

And you might say, he made a move, right? Thing is, well, when Poe found it, he was over the moon.  So, of course, he interrogated virtually every guy he knew. Except Finn, of course.

The reason why he is trying, so hard, to forget this tiny glimpse of hope is because someone took the honor for it. Yep, a real blow to his confidence, to be honest.

So Poe had a boyfriend for a while, which made Finn lose his mind even more, if that’s even possible. The relationship didn’t last long, though.

Lucky for Finn, Rey excitedly exclaimed at the time, except Finn still didn’t act.

He swears, he almost did, biking around the neighbourhood on a Sunday evening with nothing better to do, when Poe looked more beat down than he’s ever seen his friend before.

Apparently, whatever his name was, Finn genuinely doesn’t remember and it’s like it matters, really… anyway, this guy eventually confessed the letter wasn’t from him.

So this evening was one of only a handful occasions where Finn did most of the talking.

And he just couldn’t bear the older boy being quiet, so he shoved his feelings down for what felt like the millionth time and told him bad jokes until the smile he knew so well resurfaced.

It always does. He wishes Poe would smile forever.

Besides, even though this guy was a douche, at least to Finn, he wasn’t Poe’s best friend since before puberty. And that sealed the deal for him to never to do anything, no matter how many times their stubborn friend tells him it’s stupid.

God, are unrequited feelings always this painful? It’s the only one he’s ever had, to be fair.

Finally, after what seems like more than four years, the hand leaves his, and it’s flickering through the photographs again, delicately, and with so much care.

But he can’t help looking at Poe’s face, reminding himself of every feature he memorized so long ago, like his brain’s telling me they’re going to be pushed apart once more.

And Finn wills his friend to look at him, and he does. He always does, really.

And he wishes to know what’s going on in Poe’s head, and for all that is good hopes he doesn’t realise what’s going on in his own.

…

Rey is coming home.

Well, she’s going to visit, she said. Obviously, she’s still got her degree and work in France, and the apartment, it’s not like Finn’s expecting her to move back.

That would be kind of nice, in theory, wouldn’t it?

In the course of, Jesus, almost two months now, things have been pushing Finn out of his new routine, things that were once part of it

He’s moved back into his parents’ basement, and honestly, this gap year was supposed to be relatively uneventful, it really was.

Free of stumbling into his childhood friend slash man of his dreams, at least, but it seems like he’s waking up to a surprise every day now.

Finn really can’t deny that Poe’s stressing him out. And making him nervous. Maybe a bit giddy, shut up.

His stomach aches every time he sees him, and it's always in the coffee shop, so sometimes, Finn allows himself to imagine them as dates because he's pining, okay?

It’s this constant reminder that Poe, well, he just exists in the same space right now, and his stupid texts with winky faces, and maybe, he’s drinking too much coffee now, too.

Poe’s always got his order ready now, and this act has a domestic tone to it that Finn’s not really willing himself to think anymore about.

He always thought he was missing something, as stupid and cheesy as it sounds.

It’s his dream school, of course, and his friends are wonderful, and his ex-girlfriend, still very good friend, Jannah, is close to his heart, too.

But Poe just fits, you know? And Rey too.

Growing up, he had many worries in his life, but at the end of the day, he always knew he could fall back on the two.

It’s like when he got drunk for the first time and his two friends were there with their overly caring, which he really can’t blame them for, because when it happened to Rey, he was there, too, obviously.

It goes without saying.

And Poe always squeezes on his heart, just a tiny, tiny bit every time he sees him, and it’s just a daunting realization that his friend may never know what he’s doing to him.

But Rey’s arriving today.

She called Finn before boarding, a conversation that went a little overtime and might consist of her almost begging him to just take his shot, as she said.

Her girlfriend’s coming too, and weirdly, this is both Poe and Finn’s first time ever meeting Rose.

Oh, in Rey and Finn’s more than weekly facetime he’s talked to her numerous times, but it’s not really the same, he thinks. It’s different being in the same room.

That’s what he learnt from these encounters with Poe, anyway.

And said man once again has invited Finn to coffee before they pick up the girls at the airport. He’s not even working today, good Lord.

So maybe, Finn’s been at Poe’s flat one time. It was just last week, actually.

It’s a small, humble one, and it just works for Poe, like, screams it in the wall art and the model plane he got on his fourteenth birthday that he’s, somehow, managed to keep intact all these years.

It’s the first thing Finn mentions, and his friend’s jokingly grumpy look when he laughs is just so endearing.

And that just took him back to their teenage hangouts, more than anything.

Poe wanted to show him more pictures, and boy, he had plenty of cardboard boxes piled up in a corner containing just that.

And it turned out, not only military time photographs, but old photo albums from before they were split up. A lot of them. The fact that Poe’s kept all of this jumbles up Finn’s insides, and his brain, to be honest.

“Welcome to the corner of shame.” he had said, with that deadpan expression he thinks is sort of menacing, like he’s about to tell a scary story, but honestly, it’s hard to take that serious.

Finn doesn’t say that, because despite them both making fun of each other loads of times, in this moment, it just makes him nostalgic.

If Rey were here, she would probably call him a loser or something, and Poe would stick out his tongue at her, because he’s not that great at comebacks, really.

He might be a bit infamous for starting conversation, arguments, whatever you call it, and not knowing how to finish them.

The fact that Finn finds even that endearing about him, well, he’s long gone.

But he’s known for years, because his other best friend loves to remind him.

Trust Finn when he says this, he’s seen every single photograph Poe owns, and that’s really the main reason they went to the flat, because there’s no humanly possible way he could carry all these to the coffee shop, but they ended up with a movie night because… yeah.

He would’ve stayed over, except that’s just about too much teenage sleepover memories for Finn to handle.

He also noticed the flat to be empty of other residents, except Poe’s dog, who instantly loved him, and his friend knows Finn will get close to tears near absolutely any dog, so. The postbox had only Dameron on it, too, not that he deliberately read on it, or anything.

But whatever, he’s sure Poe must have a boyfriend, somewhere. How could he not?

Perhaps he’s biased, but Finn’s sure there’s no aspect of his best friend that’s not lovable.

And the thing is, Poe’s confident, except when he’s not, like when he ended it with that guy who took the credit for Finn’s work, and for some reason, he started finding flaws to himself.

Listening to it clenched Finn’s heart in a different way than when his friend smiled at him, this was the sort of thing that made him want to curse the world, and that stupid guy, and prove Poe wrong in all this internalised criticism he has put on himself.

Regardless, Finn’s in the coffee shop, iced latte as usual, Poe’s drinking black coffee because he’s weird, and the conversation’s just swarming around being excited about the last part of their trio being on her way.

“You’ve talked to her girlfriend before, right?” Poe asks, biting his lip like he’s about to meet his partner’s parents, God, he is so likeable, why doesn’t he think that himself? Finn should remind him more often.

“Yeah,” he chuckles in his reply, “She’s so cool, honestly. Still weird to think of being in the same room as her. You know. Both of us existing.”

Finn shakes his head at himself, because he always does this with words, but Poe always smiles at him fondly, so even though it causes that familiar stomach ache, it’s worth it.

“I’ve missed this. You’re so deep.”

Their laughs are quiet and he has to say he feels like they’re meaningful. Or he doesn’t say it out loud, but you know what he means.

Thing is, Finn’s almost settled into this, like maybe he can see Poe again, everyday, and sure, he still feels just as strongly as before, but he’s learning to hide the nerves again.

Unfortunately, his best friend manages throw him out of the loop, once again.

Because suddenly Poe’s saying, “See this,” and Finn’s about to ask just how many photo albums he’s got laying around when what he pulls out is anything other than a photograph.

Remember that love letter Finn talked about before? It’s that damned thing Poe has in his hands now.

Firstly, it’s crumbled to oblivion, and he cannot believe his friend has it.

Can paper even, like, survive that long? Finn doesn’t really know.

He does know he feels like throwing up.

But he can’t really excuse himself, not only because this would blow this bottle up your feelings game Finn’s been playing for years now out of the water, but also, they’re supposed to be making their way to the airport soon.

Fuck. What is going on?

“You remember this?” his older friend inquires, turning the paper over in his hands, carefully, and honestly, it would probably return to dust if he didn’t.

How- Poe kept this stupid letter? Surely, Finn expected he’d have thrown it away, in a physical sense and in his mind, after that first breakup.

And Finn nods, swallowing the lump in his throat while the man in front of him continues, “It’s- I kept it in my jacket, even when I was the army.”

Finn knows exactly which jacket, because it’s also one probably too worn out but still being kept alive, multiple patches and stitches for as long as he can remember, “You did?”

It’s a small “Yeah,” he gets as a reply, and well, you already know how his smile makes Finn feel, “You know, I never found out who wrote it.”

And he just can’t reply, because Poe looks like he’s reminiscing, and Finn just wants this to be over. Can almost hear Rey’s encouraging, tired voice in the back of his mind.

“Sorry.” his friend then says, after the shortest silence, already folding the paper back together. Finn still can’t remember the songs, or if he wrote anything else.

Poe glances at the clock and mutters “shit” under his breath, and suddenly, the letter is put in his pocket where it came from, and whatever this moment was is over as quickly as it started.

And his friend gulps down the rest of his coffee in one go, yuck, and he rushes, and stresses, and Finn’s struggling to keep up.

Poe’s still got his hand in his pocket. That’s extremely inconvenient, especially with his bag, why is he doing this?

Finn wants to know just what his friend was thinking about when he brought that letter to light, because, well, God, it must mean something to him if he kept all this time.

It has to, right? What’s he supposed to do with this information?

And also, Finn doesn’t realise that he’s standing still until Poe’s voice sounds somehow a bit further away from him, it’s like he’s staring into nothing and not looking at his childhood best friend.

“What’s the matter?”

He zoned out, he’s zoning out.

It’s just- Finn doesn’t know what he’s trying to think of. All that’s going on in his head is Rey’s convinced mindset, telling him that Poe loves him, if that is platonic or romantic, it doesn’t matter.

He guesses Rey’s right. Maybe. That platonic only option is gonna hurt, though.

Poe’s coming closer again now, except it’s like Finn’s watching this going on outside his body, like a third person, or from above, maybe, and when his friend surely has to tell him they’re in a hurry again, it comes out of his mouth too choked up, too out of place and time for his liking, “I need to tell you something, Poe.”

And his older friend furrows his brow, of course, his stressful demeanor instead morphed to a frown of confusion, and despite of the world possibly crashing upon him this second, Finn continues, because fuck it, “I- I really hope you won’t look at me differently.”

Poe stands in silence for the shortest of the moments, mouth slightly agape, “Buddy, what are you talking about?”

Buddy. That should pretty much settle it, really. Their friendship will most likely put to the an end, or put in a hold, if he flees this.

At least Finn can tell Rey he tried. And say “I told you so,” might as well, now that he’s at it.

Which is why he squeezes his eyes shut for a second instead of looking at this man he knows so well, because well, he’s already distancing himself from everything right now, “It’s my letter, you know?”

And god, has the sound of traffic ever been so jarring.

Finn doesn’t even register the movement at first, he wonders where this is going, only he’s not the one moving, in fact every fiber of his being tenses up when Poe is suddenly as close to his face as they were in puberty.

The older man looks perpetually confused, honestly, Finn doesn’t blame him.

There’s a lot of blinking until, “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” and you know Finn by now, his brain desperately tries to catch up to speed, throwing words out of his mouth in an unusual stutter, with no real meaning to the madness, luckily, Poe knows this stressed state of his, and a hand finds his shoulder.

It’s smoothing out his collar just a bit, his friend’s expression starting to change again, his eyes pleading to understand, “Finn, I need you to breathe.”

He does. They’re breathing the same air, always, he’s so acutely aware of it now than before.

Why has Poe even stopped him in explaining? He just needs to explain, despite there not being anything reasonable to say, because why does Finn feel the need to defend these feelings? 

Maybe to soften inevitable blow, surely, Poe doesn’t even look fazed, actually, maybe he’s not shaken by it, that’s something.

“And I need you to tell me why Sweater Weather reminds you of me.”

“What?”

“Please?”

Oh, that comes back to him. Finn was far from prepared for a question like that, when a possible rejection was replaying until he might lose his mind.

He just shrugs, almost wanting to be outside his body so he can shove himself.

Why is Poe looking at him like that? It’s just that same smile. His eyes are soft now. His hand just gesturing a bit.

Finn recalls the feeling of hearing that song, but he’s not sure how to say it. It’s like, he can’t tell what his friend wants out of it. No matter what he says, it’ll probably be cheesy, but Finn was fifteen when he made the list, after all.

“I don’t know,” he says, shrugs again, they should probably be going, why is this lump in his throat getting bigger, “It’s like, when we were snowed in, when we watched Alien, you know? I freeze so easily, you know? And you make me warm.”

That’s what he wrote, the little note in the bottom. You make me warm. My heart beats too loud when you’re around. I wonder if you can hear it. I wonder if you know how easy it is to love you.

“I do?” and either Finn’s hallucinating right now, or Poe’s smiling even bigger.

“Yeah. It- it’s like home. I wished I could make you feel that way.”

Why not get everything out in the open now that they’re at it, huh. Poe’s looking at him, though. Like, really looking at him. There’s crinkles forming at his eyes, Finn wonders if they’ve always been there.

And his friend lets out a breath. What is going on-

“You think... would it be okay if I kissed you?”

Who the hell is Poe kidding, right now?

Finn doesn't if he wants to scream at the top of his lungs because this absurdity or because of this glee. 

This year's really going way beyond his expectations already, and God forbid this moment ends, it seems way more like one of his daydreams than reality.

"You want to kiss me?" Finn asks, because it's hard to believe. It's almost like he should be banging his head against a wall for hiding this for so long.

Not that he knows if Poe's, well, wanted to kiss as long as he's wanted to kiss him.

"Buddy." he says, of course he says that, but now it's almost morphed into a new meaning, one where the classic, wonderous Poe smile is a smile of adoration, like a feeling that Finn might have overlooked it all the years they've known each other, for some reason, one that gives him goosebumps. 

"Of course I do. That's the feeling I've never told you about. You make me feel that without even trying."

Well, of course Finn nods, of course, he cannot do anything else than believe him, because this is what, finally, eases his stomach and releases the chokehold on his breath.

This is what makes him study Poe's face and think to himself, is this how he looks when he looks at his friend?

It's like, the world's revolving around Poe, at this moment. To hell with it if that's already been said a million times before, Finn's saying it now.

Maybe Rey was right, not that he'll admit that to her today. Oh fuck, they should probably, actually, get going, shouldn't they?

He isn't eager to break this news to Poe, though, what with his chapped lips on his, and a warmth spreading from his cheeks all the way to his toes.

The buzzing of his phone can wait for another minute, right?

[maviemesregles]

Once I was an Eagle

Aaaaaand, I'm back! I know it's been bloody ages since the last update but I needed a break. I also had been busy with other ficlets so OIWAE was put on pause. But the story is back and I do hope you like this instalment. I really, really like this chapter.

I am absolutely horrible at answering the comments (which I'll fix, promise) but I do see each one of them! I LOVE reading what your thoughts are, whether you liked some moment or a particular turn of phrase, I appreciate it all. No matter if it's one word, emoji, or a big analysing comment. Thank you lovies for staying here with me. <3

Anne, you’re my gem  💜 @eclecticstarlightconnoisseur​

Read on AO3

     Chapter I: The beginnings

Chapter II: Sassenach

Chapter III: Catharsis

Chapter IV: Lovestruck. Part I

Chapter V: Lovestruck. Part II

Chapter VI: Flecks of Sun

Chapter VII: Mince pies & baubles

                                           Chapter VIII: Home

Blood pounded in Claire’s ears muffling the music and the howling wind outside. Jamie’s face blurred as the tears gathered at the brink of her lower lashes. She inhaled deeply, blinking furiously to get rid of the swell of moisture in her eyes. Closing them Claire could feel Jamie moving towards her, gently touching her arm, voice concerned.

“Claire, was it too early? Did I-”

He could not finish his sentence because she dissolved into ugly crying. Clinging to him, gasping for air and in general being an awful mess.

“Shh, mo graidh. Shh. Tis alright.” His hands wrapped around Claire in a familiar way, thumb circling the tender skin at her nape softly.

“I.. I’m going to ruin your shirt.” Sniffing, voice muffled by his aforementioned shirt Claire leaned back to look at the mess she created. Her running nose and damp cheeks imprinted a mascara-black wet blot on green fabric. She could hear Jamie chuckle as he picked her up and sat down with Claire curled on his lap.

“I dinna care one bit about the shirt, lass.” Lips gently pressed a kiss to her forehead. Claire sighed though still gasping for air. The comfort of Jamie’s warmth made her body become limp.

“I’m not crying because I am sad,” Claire whispered, hand cupping the back of his head. “I... I’m crying because I’m happy, Jamie. Happy to live with you.”

Dropping a kiss on the bridge of her nose, he smiled.

“Aye. Me too, my Sassenach.”

* * *

It was the beginning of what seemed like an endless hunt for what would become a perfect flat for us. We spent about three weeks chasing an ideal place, checked at least ten flats scattered all over Edinburgh but none of them was quite what we were looking for (not far away from my work; with a park nearby to allow Jamie to go on his morning jogs. And it needed to have a large living room and be pet-friendly.)

Jamie (bare-chested, skin still flushed from the shower) was performing his magic by preparing the scrambled eggs I loved so much while I sat on the windowsill, feet in fuzzy socks propped up the wall. As I scrolled through rental ads on Jamie’s iPad I felt the pressure of upcoming headache from all this searching. And suddenly, there it was. The place that we were looking for.

A stone-built ground floor house had a spacious kitchen and a huge living room adorned with an old fireplace. The ceilings were so high I thought there is no end to them. “Canna wait to hear yer voice inside these walls” Jamie smirked at me as we followed behind the agent chirping away about how great this flat is. “Whatever do you mean?” I quirked my brow at him. He leaned closer, whispering into my ear, his warm breath tickling the little hairs on my nape. “Weel, those sounds ye make when I-” Giggling, my elbow pressed into his ribs, stopping him before any dangerous and inappropriate (for the agent) revelations could occur.

Grand windows allowed the sun to slip into every little corner of the flat and made it breathe with light. There were two bedrooms with hardboard wooden floors and a small study fully equipped with bookshelves. French doors in the kitchen opened to a garden with a southern exposure was the last deciding straw for me. It had everything we needed. Adso would be welcome to live here, it was a fifteen minute drive from my work and there was a park just across the street. Although it was rather pricey, Jamie ignored my hissing remark “Almost four grand quid? Fucking insane,” and said that we should sign the rental agreement. I kissed him senseless allowing the feeling that this is us now, our own place fill me up.

The rental price had changed our plans a little bit. Forcing us to spend a couple of days moving small furniture and other possessions Jamie and I owned to our new accommodation by ourselves. At the end of it all, sweaty and tired, we sat on the boxes in the empty living room, watching the snowfall outside the huge windows.

“Are ye happy, Sassenach?” Jamie gently pulled me by the wrist to his side. My hands cradled his face as I stood up and found myself a prisoner between his thighs.

“Of course I am, James Fraser,” thumb caressing the apple of his cheeks I glanced around. “Only I have no idea how we are going to organize this mess.” It feels like between the two of us there are millions of boxes and bags, packages. I’ve brought the plants I owned (the only three I managed not to kill), a box full of uncle’s Lamb belongings, an enormous contemporary art painting Geillis got me for my 30th birthday two years ago. Adso had his belongings too, a scratching post, litter tray and his own little blanket. Adso himself was being babysat by Geillis while I and Jamie tried to sort out our moving. Jamie was currently sitting on a stash of my medical books destined for the study.

“We’ll manage, a nighean ” His hands patted my hips, bringing me closer. Planting a soft kiss on the washed fabric over my sternum, Jamie looked up. “We canna do more than our best.”

My stomach had the quite opposite opinion of doing our best and rumbled loudly.

“God, I’m starving” yawning I reached for the cellphone.

Later, full and warm with chicken ramen, curry with prawns and wok-fried greens we had just enough strength in us to unpack most of the carton boxes that said “Kitchen”. In that hour and a half, we managed to laugh, listen to Jamie’s Dire Straits playlist on his phone and argue over ridiculous things. Putting away a bitty family of my mugs and cups Jamie dropped my favourite mug Frank bought me a very long time ago and I never could get rid of it. It was massive and bright yellow, with Friends on it. It was my all-time binge-love TV show. It shattered in yellow pieces atop the counter and floor. I didn't mean to snap. But we both were bone-weary from a long day of moving back and forth, of a week packing before, exhausted from all the searching catching up with us. Suddenly I felt my chin quiver at the sight of my beloved, now broken mug.

“I’m sorry, Sassenach.” Jamie bit his lip, trying to reach me with his hand over the island counter but I shrugged away.

“Why are you so bloody clumsy, ” I mumbled, kneeling to pick up broken ceramic bits. Jamie rubbed his face, clearly wanting to say something, but instead he bent to help.

Annoyed just by him breathing next to me at that moment I dropped collected pieces straight into the bin. When he tried to sweep the floor from the dusty mug remains I snapped.

“Oh, please, just move away, or you’re going to break something else.”

I regretted the words right after I’ve said them but blood was already pounding in my ears and there was no way back.

“I said I’m sorry,” Jamie muttered, looking visibly irritated himself now. “It’s just a mug, I’ll buy ye a new one.”

The tension crackled with its force.

“I don’t want another bloody mug! ” I barked at him trying to busy myself opening a new box. “Frank gave it to me. It was my favourite one.”

Time seemed to stop for a second as Jamie slowly licked his lips looking me straight in the eyes.

“Frank?”

Unable to hold his gaze anymore I turned my back to him staring out of the window.

“Don’t you start playing a jealous boyfriend on me,” I grunted, telling myself to calm down. You know he doesn’t mean it bad.

He grumbled and I could hear him retreating to the living room.

“Why are ye bitching about it, Claire?” He hissed and I thought I could feel his words crawl inside me like a poisonous snake.

“What?” I followed him to the room (aka the mess) full of boxes.

“Nothing.”

“Repeat what you just said,” I demanded.

He didn’t. Instead, we spent the next hour in different rooms unpacking. Or pretending to. I wasn't able to do a proper job and stopped on one box. As the sweat cooled off on my skin and the urge to cry faded away I plodded down the hallway towards the bathroom. Passing the living room I caught a glimpse of Jamie placing my candles (that he hated) on top of the fireplace. The sight gave my heart a painful (and guilty) squeeze. Deciding that taking a shower, putting fresh PJs on and making us both a nice cup of tea would make both of us feel better.

I turned on the hot water. It was blissful and caused me to go limp. Engrossed as I was I did not hear Jamie come in. Shedding his clothes wordlessly, he stepped into the shower behind me. Cupping one breast, he dropped a kiss on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry I snapped, Claire. And I’m sorry for ye wee mug.”

Turning to face him, I nodded and kissed his jaw softly.

“I am sorry, Jamie. I was unreasonable and acted like a jerk.”

Our earlier argument was mended when his lips sealed on my neck, leaving me breathless. Moments later I cried out as I sagged against the tiled wall, him still inside me.

We slept on a makeshift bed that Jamie constructed from his mattress and two blankets just right in front of the fireplace. We laid, limbs entwined, among the boxes and bags, hands lazily tracing hills and valleys of each other bodies. “I love you,” I whispered before my mind drifted away into the realm of Morpheus.

* * *

Weeks later our flat finally started looking like somebody really lives here. With all our mismatched furniture, collection of books (mine mainly botany and poems, and Jamie’s classics and fantasy), with a horrid motorbike engine of Jamie’s (the one he used to drive in his uni days). No matter how much I asked him to throw that away he squealed like a girl protecting her virtue, not letting me come near that metal monstrosity. We agreed to put it away in the second bedroom which initially became a storage room.

One evening as I rocked my hips atop of him Jamie smirked that we marked each room in this flat. “ Aye, we did” I said mimicking him as I yanked my scrub top off over my head. Jamie made my body go limp against the shower tiles; he drew mewling sounds out of me on the kitchen table; my moans bounced off those high ceilings in the living room; his laboured breathing filled our bedroom and crawled up the walls. I gasped at the feeling of him in the storage room when Jamie announced his evident desire for a quickie; and he groaned “Oh, Claire” following his meandering Gaelic cursing as his hands tangled in my curls while I kneeled down unzipping his jeans.

Every time I showed up at work Geillis would never forget to ask me with a wink “So, my darling, how’s yer wee ginger? Loves ye well? I TOLD YE. Yer fucking glowing like a candle, Claire.”

Living with Jamie was a whole new experience. Now I had the luxury to wake up to his sleepy face and mussed curls every day. He would make the most miserable facial expression as I switch on the table lamp, grunting and burying himself under the layers of blanket. James Fraser was definitely not a morning person. “Five in the morning is torture,” he mumbled sleepily as I pressed a goodbye kiss to his forehead. “Normal people sleep at this time, ye ken. Go, save yer humans, Sassenach.” Squeezing my hand he turned to snooze immediately. But as soon as I got to work my phone would beep with his text message every morning “Have a great day, a nighean. Love ye.”

Any other morning I had a chance to stay in bed longer he’d wake me up with his hands, his mouth and his body molding into mine much like matching puzzle piece. I could not remember life without him anymore. Without his perfect morning coffee for me; without our banter or seriousness full talks in the darkness of the night, his hands on my hip, thumb carving the shape of my pelvic bone; without lazy evenings on the couch with Netflix and takeaway, my head resting on his chest, Jamie’s hand wrapped around my waist, and Adso curled on his lap.

Every day I had a pleasure of observing his fucking gorgeous post jog body. But like any other couple, we shared our bit of things that drove us crazy. Jamie had this annoying habit to turn the TV on so loud I had to scream like a banshee from the kitchen to get his attention. He also seemed to be very dedicated at the task of leaving the puddle of water on the bathroom floor after showering. I would not even want to mention his morning cologne spraying session that left a suffocating smell in the hallway. But, I myself was far from perfect. I had to endure him rolling his eyes at me and making disgusted faces as he plucked my hair out from the shower drain. Also, Jamie was patient with me and my attempts to cook and never protested eating ordered food. He would often volunteer for the task seeing me struggle with slimy spaghetti. But all those things did not matter as each night I fell asleep saying “I love you” lulled by his steady heartbeat beneath my cheek.

It had gotten to the point where I found that I could not live without him. So when Jamie had to leave to Inverness for three days I cursed at his business the whole day. Without him, I felt like the part of me was torn away and even Adso purring by my side couldn’t remedy the feeling. That’s why now I shamelessly found my place on Jamie’s lap, sparkling rosé in my hand. Our kitchen was filled with laughter, chats and instrumental indie playing from Google Home speaker Jenny and Ian gave us as a gift. The food was rich and tasty, the wine was pleasantly chill and Jamie’s left hand on my hip too much to handle. We haven’t made love for three days and I was positively flushed with desire. My skin was on fire - a mix of alcohol, laughter and Jamie.

“So, Claire, I do hope ye like yer wee rug?” Angus tried to wink at me sipping his red. I rolled my eyes and looked over my shoulder to have a look at his present again. It was a door rug in a bright green colour with a white cat on it that said: “Don’t forget to pet my pussy-cat”. He shoved it into my hands grinning. I was taken aback and did not know what to say. Meanwhile, Jamie broke into almost hysterical laughter, as I stood mouth agape. “Ye do have a cat, no?” Angus snorted and I only managed to nod as he welcomed himself inside our flat.

“Very thoughtful present,” I said, saluting my glass to Angus.

Untangling myself from Jamie’s embrace I excused myself to the bathroom. I washed my hands and caught sight of my face in the mirror. Cheeks pink coloured I splashed cold water on my face, feeling the drops run down my neck. Hair drawn back in a sweaty knot. When Jamie opens the door there is a trail of loud raucous laughter coming from the kitchen follows him.

“I’ll be right back,” I said thinking he came to get me. But the next moment the latch on the door clicked closed. His lips sought mine and he tasted of whisky leaving the burning sensation on my lips. His hands reached under my sweater, tracing the small of my back and then soft skin on my belly.

“I love them all, but I swear if they dinna leave soon, I’m going to have to kill all our guests” Jamie breathed out heavily as my hands fumbled with his belt, tugging at the stubborn zipper of the jeans. He cursed something in Gaelic that I did not understand when my fingers found his hot flesh.

“I might kill them myself,” I agreed, gently biting at his earlobe. My mouth fell open when Jamie snaked a hand between us, curling and tasting me with his fingers exactly right.  

“Christ, Claire” He muttered under his breath, fingers damp from his exploration. But our moment was rudely interrupted by Murtagh unceremoniously knocking on the door. “What are ye doing there, ye wee beasties? We need more booze.” Grunting in annoyance Jamie slid his belt back in and reached to pull my rolled sweater down. Kissing him chastely, we made it out back to our guests.

Over the next several days, we both were swirled into the routine business of life seeing each other mostly in the evenings. I’ve been extra busy at work and Jamie still had to finish important tasks at the brewery. Both of us exhausted, we barely managed to order takeaway, with me falling asleep on the couch as soon as the food was finished as a new episode of Peaky Blinders played. Jamie would carry me to the bedroom. He crept in beside me covering us both with a quilt. We would touch fingertips and sleep holding each other until the sun came uninvited, crawling inside the room. There was a silent agreement between us and the sex was at bay. There was a day when Jamie’s hands glided over my hips, finger drawing patterns at the panties waistband. Sleepily, I mumbled that I’m gross and disgusting and in need of a shower and shave. The other day I managed to pull off my sexiest face and slowly pull down my knickers I turned to find Jamie had fallen asleep soundly, mouth slightly agape. Chuckling, I picked my discarded underwear and slid under the blankets next to his starfish sprawled body.

Standing in the locker room at the hospital I’ve snapped a photo of myself. I turned myself provocatively displaying my ass to look as if I spent days in the gym (I did not of course) but nonetheless Jamie seemed more than fascinated by this body part of mine. Sending him the picture with capslock text “TONIGHT FRASER” I retreated back to work. All morning and lunch I spent thinking of the upcoming evening. Geillis took me out of my thoughts by grabbing my hand in the hallway.

“Claire, are ye alright?” Her eyes examined my face worriedly. “Ye look as pale as the wall behind ye.” I shook my head, reassuring her it’s nothing but a bit of nausea.

“I’m fine, Geil.” Running a palm over my clammy forehead I felt the imminent need to vomit. “It’s probably that sushi I had for lunch with Joe. I told him it did not look good.”

Giving me judgmental-mother look and shaking her head Geillis still made me sit down and close my eyes.

“Ye work too much, lass. Jamie needs to take ye on a holiday.”

The perspective of vacation sounded like an unreachable luxury at the moment but under Geillis’s superior look I agreed to go home earlier tonight. It started to rain hard outside when I crossed the threshold, dropping the bags of groceries down. Deciding that I might as well cook today instead of having takeaway again I strolled down the kitchen feeling slightly wamble and dizzy. After taking Pepto-Bismol and hoping it’ll help calm down my disgruntled stomach I opened a can of cat food, summoning Adso. But my cat was nowhere in sight. I’ve checked every nook and little corner, under the bed and couch. In the storage room as last time Jamie closed the cat in there by accident. My furry baby seemed to have vanished into thin air and I felt an oncoming wave of worry mixed with nausea. The open window in our bedroom hit me with a realisation. Eyes swelling with tears I dialled Jamie.

“Christ, Sassenach, I must have forgotten to close the damn window and the cheetie ran away.”

He promised to find him. I spent the evening googling stories of cats running away and cried some more thinking of my poor Adso alone in the cold rain, scared and hungry. I was sure I would not see my cat again. It was around midnight when the front door opened, Jamie’s footfalls startling me from my broken sleep on the couch. I rubbed my puffy eyelids as Jamie stepped inside the room.

His clothes were soaking wet, face painted with tiredness. But the smile on his lips was an encouraging sign. Unfolding his jacket Jamie stroked Adso’s grey ear who was nestled against his chest.

“Jamie! Oh, I can’t believe you did it.” I jumped up, taking Adso into my arms. He was wet and dirty, paws leaving marks on my skin. “Where did you find him?”

Taking off the jacket, Jamie leaned down to receive my kiss on his cheek.

"Here, you must be freezing cold." I reached for the bottle of whisky, pouring him a glass. When he gulped it down and his cheeks turn into baby-pink he told me.

“Ye’d never believe it. I spent hours just driving over the neighbourhood, mistaken at least three cats for him, but he was nowhere. And then I had an idea, it was crazy but possible.” Jamie ran his hands through his damp curls. “I drove to yer old place. And there he was, sitting in front of the door of yer old flat.”

“Oh, my poor baby,” Cradling Adso I reached for the towel I had just in case Jamie managed to bring him home. “Why did you run away, you silly?”

“I’m sorry, Claire. 'Twas my fault, I left the window open.” Jamie patted my thigh gently, looking guilty.

Lening in to kiss him, I traced his cheekbones with my fingers.

“You found him, Jamie. It’s all fine.”

* * *

Jamie woke to the sudden absence of Claire in the bed, her side of the blanket looking like a messy ball at the end of the bed. He could hear the water running in the bathroom. Glancing at the clock that showed three in the morning Jamie called out her name. When no response followed, he swung his legs down the bed, worry caused a cold feeling in his stomach as he walked to the bathroom.

“Sassenach, are ye al-” The words stuck in his throat seeing her small figure, curled on the floor next to the toilet. “Christ, Claire, what happened?” He kneeled down, cradling her head into his lap. His heart was pounding away in his ribcage, fear filling every fiber of his being. She looked pale as a paper sheet, sweaty curls stuck to her skin. Shaking her head weakly, she mumbled as quiet as he ever heard her “I’m okay.” But she was decidedly not okay. Her eyes closed then. Jamie picked her up, rushing to the car outside and mentally thanking all existing Gods that the hospital was just fifteen minutes away. Jamie was there in precisely seven minutes.

[reactingwithexo]

Can You Keep A Secret (13) - Sehun

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 /Part 4/ Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10  / Part 11 / Part 12

genre: angst & fluff 

warnings: crime stuff, a whole lot of fluff on this part, mentions of smut and making out 

word-count: 1.8K

A/N: I understand if you want to murder me. But since I got a new wave of followers lately (thank you btw and welcome) and it’s also a gift for doctor @damned-fangirl​ for her graduation, hope you like it!

You couldn’t believe at yourself. It’s been a whole week and you still held that stupid smile on your face since that night with Sehun. Having to put with even your mom teasing you was not for you.

Yes, part of you still had worries about what you were gonna do to stop the whole scheme that tied your history to sehun’s but he was just being so sweet you kinda held the anxiety back and focused on the now. And that meant focusing on opening up the door to meet Sehun.

“Aren’t you a little early? I’m so sick of you obsessing over me” your fake annoyance is quickly torn by him mumbling for you to shut up and pulling you to a short kiss. 

“Fine- you mess up his hair -  I’ll spend more hours with you just because it is your birthday”

He frowned and tried to fix his hair “I’m surprised you remember”

“Excuse me, how would I forget your birthday?” this time you were the one to pull him into a kiss “happy birthday”. He shared a cute smile and said “Okay, did you pack some stuff as I told you? I have a surprise”

“Ah yes - you showed him your bag - I just don’t get it why all this suprise talk if the birthday is yours anyways”

“I donate even when I’m supposed to be receiving, you know how good of a person I am” he says dramatically.

You hum and nod “yea..sure”

“Let’s go? It’s good if we can get that early still”

“Oh wait, I need to show you this” You open up your back and show him a dress “what do you think for the party? it’s not as pretty as the one you gave me last year but it’s cute enough I guess”

“Party? What are you talking about?” He asked in confusion, confusing you in the process.

“Huh? Sehun, your annual birthday party? Did you forget? You used to look forward so much to it”

“Oh” He started laughing as you stared at him “y/n, I won’t be hosting the party this year”

“You won’t? what? why? first time I put some effort into it and you’re telling me there won’t be any party?” you sulked as you threw the dress back in your bag.

He still laughed at your reaction as he answered “I’m sorry babe but I was sick of having those people that I barely know anymore in my house, but you can still wear the dress tonight, I certainly won’t oppose to it”

“Ok then, if there’s no party then what are we doing mr?”

“You’d know faster if we got going as I said” he offered his hand for you to take it and you two headed to his car as you screamed a little goodbye to your mother on the way.

“You can’t be this mysterious with me Sehun - you said while he started driving -what if you kidnap me or something? How am I supposed to know i’m not in grave danger?”

He looked at you for a second and let out a giggle “I don’t think you’d be that mad if I did to be honest”

You were about to answer on the same note when you noticed you were receiving a call, since your phone was in your hand, Sehun took a glance as well and let out a sigh “Ah what does this guy wants now?”

It was Jungkook who was calling “well, unlike someone who has completely ignored school exits, he is probably just wanting to know something about our assignment”

“Yeah and who calls at a sunday to talk about school y/n?”

“I’m not answering ok? just forget about it”

“You shouldn’t even have his phone, he’s probably gonna track you at some time”

“Oh my God Sehun, stop assuming everyone is plotting against us, I know we’ve came across people like that but he’s just a normal guy, at least have normal suspicious a jealous person would have instead of assuming he is a criminal”

“So you’re saying I should be jealous?”

“That’s your choice, but you shouldn’t be stressing over this today, even if your intuition says he is ready to hunt me down, just focus on your day and let’s enjoy it together”

“You’re right” he said and seemed to relax a little bit.”Let me connect my playlist now instead of hearing your shitty song choices please, it’s my birthday”

“Oh god, will I really have to endure 50 cent Sehun again?”

“Yes, you will” he laughed along and pressed play.

While he seemed to have fun you found yourself looking at him for more than you should until eventually he realized too “what’s up?”

“Nothing, you looked cute that’s all”

“So you finally admit 50 cent Sehun is the cutest Sehun?” he asks with a smile on his face

“Hmmm no, original Sehun is still the cutest” you followed with a kiss on his cheek.

“I should have birthdays more often”

“Shush don’t ruin the moment... how far are we anyways?”

“Not too far, I’ve heard time goes faster if you kiss the one who’s getting older today”

You slapped his arm “I told you not to ruin the moment but you can’t help it right?”

He followed by turning up the volume of the song and trying to get you to sing with him, which turned into a mess of giggles and him shouting for you to ‘be the beyonce to his jayz’

How the hell did you end up liking this guy of all people?

The karaoke session did help in making the time pass faster and Sehun announced you have arrived.

You were in the middle of nowhere and all you could see was green “you’re not ledit kidnapping me right?” you asked as he got out of the car and went to get something in the backseat.

“Nah, that’d take too much work, instead I am going to poison you with this” he took out a picnic basket.

“What? We’re having a picnic?” You helped him getting the bottle he was carrying and followed him.

“Yeah,...is that weird?”

“No, it’s so cute, we haven’t had one in years”

You found a nice spot to sit down and start your picnic. “How did you find this? Did you just drive until you found somewhere peaceful?”

“What? no, I rented that cabin we just passed through for us”

“Oh?”

“You thought I’d come all the way just to have a picnic and then drive all the way back?”

“I don’t know, I’m just surprised you’d be so romantic, are you trying to seduce me Oh Sehun?”

“I’d only need me for that, but no, I just wanted to spend some quality time with my-” he stopped himself and continued “with you”

You smiled “what was that?”

“You got it”

“Were you gonna call me your girlfriend or am I hearing things?”

“Yeah I guess” he shrugged his shoulders “I thought you’d find it weird though”

“No, I just wasn’t aware i was...”

“I mean” he gulped “Do you want to?”

“Want to what?” you teased him and hid your smile behind the glass you were having.

“I swear you just love to torture me since we met” he whined and took a breath “Do you, y/n , want to be my girlfriend?”

“Hmmmm” you pretended to think about it and picked up a flower that was close to you “should I say yes?” you took out a petal “or should I say no?” you repeated the action and saw Sehun rolling his eyes beside you and moving towards you, he picked up the flower from your hands and placed it above your right ear as he said “Stop making me go through this and just answer”

“Of course” you gave him a quick peck “what else would I answer?” he pulled you in for another kiss, but this time more than just a peck as you felt his other arm hug your waist for support, you welcomed his advances and allowed yourself to fall into his embrace, and he laid you down gently as the touches grew more heavy.

You suddenly felt him smile in the kiss and opened your eyes slightly when he stopped for a brief moment “I didn’t rent a cabin for us to do this in the grass”

Laughing at his antics you agreed “that’s my boyfriend”

You two ended up finishing your meal and then heading to the cabin afterwards where he attacked you with kisses which he claimed was his dessert, not that you minded anyways and you spent a pretty fun afternoon entangled in each other’s arms.

“This is so much better than a party, you were right” you said while you two were cuddling near the fire place. He hummed and you remembered “do you remember the first time you kissed me was exactly a year ago?”

“Yeah, that’s true” 

“I still wonder what made you confess to me all of a sudden, was it just the alcohol or?”

“Well the alcohol helped but no, I just I don’t know, I realized I liked you for real and thought I should try”

“I’m glad you did”

He hugged you a little bit stronger and said “you seem to be the only thing in my life I’m sure of, the rest is just fuzzy”

“Well I can relate, we did find out together that our lives weren’t what they seemed to be and we’re going through it, it’s gonna get better”

You both jumped as you heard a harsh knock at the door.

A/N: Short and sweet I guess but this time I won’t take this long to update since next part will be the second to last part of this baby, thank you for reading 

[artificialqueens]

Revelation Sunshine, Chapter 1 (Courtney/Vixen) - Veronica

A/N: Oh hi. Welcome to the Galactica sequel that I’ve been planning FOREVER. Like...literally since the time these two started interacting on Twitter, during season 10. Thanks to @artificialpuddle for the beta help, and @aqcitrus for brainstorming with me. <3

And of course, a HUGE thanks to @theartificialdane, for humoring me the whole way through and letting me explore this ship in the Galactica verse. It is mostly fluffy, fluffy shit, which is a bit out of my wheelhouse, but I love them so much and I just want them to be happy.

I think it can easily be read as a stand-alone story. The only thing you need to know from Galactica is that at this point in the story, Courtney is a wildly successful queer pop star and star of a fictional Disney franchise called ‘Glimmer,’ which costars Honey Mahogany as her love interest.

Challenge Notes:

Story is told mostly from Vixen’s POV

Her BFFs: Asia, Monet, Monique, Mayhem (who show up in person in Chapter 2)

The title is a song by Cree Summer. I’ve also made a playlist for this story, which can be found here.

#Vixney4Eva

TW: vague reference to past transphobia, sexual apprehension/nervousness that should in NO WAY be construed as dubcon

***

It was Honey who introduced them. Or, rather, Honey who handed Courtney the book that started everything, on the set of Glimmer 3.

BEWARE WHITE TEARS: Performativity and Racial Justice, by Toni “Vixen” Taylor enthralled Courtney so much that she barely slept for 3 nights, devouring it twice. And then she read the whole thing again, slowly, highlighting the parts that blew her mind the most.

On set, when she just couldn’t stop raving about it, Honey laughed at her.

“So...you liked it?”

“Omigod, yes!” Courtney exclaimed. “I mean, obviously I feel very called out. But in a good way? Like...this is making me rethink everything.”

“That’s good! I thought maybe you’d be offended,” Honey said, adjusting her crown.

“Offended? How long have we known each other?” Courtney giggled, bumping Honey with her hip. It was true: they’d been co-starring in the Glimmer franchise for 8 years at that point.

“Still.”

“But god, Honey, it was just...I mean, I don’t even have any words for how amazing it was. She’s so fucking smart and passionate, and so funny, and everything she says is like…” Courtney shook her head, starry-eyed.

“You should tell her,” Honey said with a saucy wink. “Send her a tweet or something.”

“She’s not gonna care what I think,” Courtney said. “I mean, hello? Chapter 4?”

“Okay, but she’s a professor. She’ll be thrilled that someone learned something. Besides, even if she doesn’t respond, maybe you’ll encourage your fans to read it.”

“That’s true…”

“And maybe get more people to listen to her podcast-”

“She has a podcast?!!” Courtney shrieked excitedly, then whispered, “Sorry,” when she saw the boom operator cringe.

Maybe Honey was right...but what should she say?

***

Vixen felt absolutely silly. There was really no reason for attention from a celebrity to make her so giddy. True, there’d been a phase when she hung on Courtney Act’s every word--but that was years ago. Early in her transition, when she felt like nothing she did was right. When she was desperate for any voice telling her that who she was was okay.

It was different now. She was 30 year old, for fuck’s sake. She didn’t need validation from anyone anymore, especially not a pop-star-come-Disney-princess. At least, that’s what she would have told anyone who asked.

But to herself, she couldn’t deny the thrill she got when she saw that first notification on her phone. The mild anxiety all day as she taught two lectures and graded a handful of thesis proposals--a nagging thought in the back of her mind wondering how she should reply. It wasn’t until late into the evening, after 2 glasses of wine, that she allowed herself to read it again, slowly typing out a reply.

Courtney Act @courtneyact ∙ 15h Just read @professorvixtaylor’s “Beware White Tears” and my mind is BLOWN. Everyone needs to read this game-changing book. E V E R Y O N E!!!! It’s so good, so informative, so powerful. AND I just found out that she has! A! Podcast!! #obsessed <3 <3 <3 <3

Dr. Vixen Taylor @professorvixtaylor ∙ 1m Replying to @courtneyact Glad you found it interesting! Thanks for the plug.

That was fine, right? Very chill. She went to sleep feeling pretty satisfied with herself. It wasn’t until the following morning when she saw Courtney’s response.

Courtney Act @courtneyact ∙ 6h Replying to @professorvixtaylor That is the understatement of the year!!! I LOVED it! You are BRILLIANT. I just listened to the first episode of your podcast and holy shit...it’s phenomenal.

Vixen put down her phone, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. It was shallow and cheap--being this enchanted by obviously exaggerated praise. But still...not a bad way to start the day.

***

Vixen was used to fighting. All of her life, it seemed, she’d had to prove herself. Scrape and claw for her voice to be heard. Shout into the void over and over, praying that someone would eventually listen. Demand attention and bang down doors and yell until she was hoarse.

Having someone at Courtney’s level of fame pay attention to her--emphatically describe her as brilliant, incisive, powerful, mind-blowing--Vixen’s impulse, in the beginning, was to lie. To say she didn’t need that kind of validation from anyone, especially a rich, famous, beautiful white girl. The embodiment of privilege. Someone whose coming out was celebrated in the media like a massive human rights achievement. Because how could someone like that ever really get it?

But on the other hand…she had to hand it to Courtney. She had excellent taste in podcasts.

And there was something soothing about a person who didn’t expect her to prove anything. Someone who respected her from the jump, who engaged with her book and her podcasts from a place of dignity, assuming that she knew what she was talking about. She didn’t demand back-up or further explanations when she came across material that was confusing. She did the work herself, looking up the articles and studies Vixen cited, posting them with a quote when something in particular caught her attention.

So reluctantly, over the next month or two, Vixen found herself warming to the idea of a real dialogue. It was January 1st, sitting on her grandmother’s plastic-covered sofa, when Vixen finally bit the bullet and slipped into Courtney’s DMs, so to speak.

Courtney had been tweeting up a storm over the holidays. Gobbling up her podcasts rapidly and hungrily, heaping her and her guests with praise and incidentally, making her subscriber numbers climb. She opened a direct message window, typing out a message that she hoped would make Courtney laugh.

@professorvixtaylor: Alright, already. This is getting embarrassing...

The response came within minutes.

@courtneyact: LOL! Listen, nobody ever accused me of a lack of enthusiasm.

@professorvixtaylor: I bet not ;)

It took one afternoon of DMs before Courtney gave Vixen her phone number. “Twitter’s great, but it’s probably easier to just text, right?”

Well.

Vixen had to admit, she had a point.

***

“So listen,” Latrice said, heaving a deep sigh. “I hate to be the one to tell you this. Like, I really, really hate it.”

“Oh shit,” Courtney said, wrapping herself in a blanket and preparing herself for whatever horrible news her manager was about to deliver. “Go ahead…”

“This isn’t coming from me, okay? It’s coming from Disney.”

“Just tell me, Latrice. What? Is the tour cancelled? Do they hate the new video? Do we need to do reshoots? What?”

“No, all that’s fine. They just...they’re a little uncomfortable about your interactions with this Vixen person.”

“Why?” Courtney sat up, ready to get extremely annoyed, extremely fast.

“Well, it’s just...she’s apparently got some very radical ideas, and-”

“So? Maybe they’re amazing ideas? Have you read the book?” Courtney countered.

Latrice sighed.

“Courtney, listen. It’s just...not what they want while they’re trying to promote this last movie.”

“It’s a movie that ends with a gay interracial marriage!” Courtney exclaimed. “So why the fuck do they have a problem with me complimenting a Black political science professor on Twitter?! This is beyond idiotic, Latrice, you have to admit that! And by the way, I’m not gonna stop. She’s amazing and her book is important and more people should know about her, and if they want to fire me, then fine!” Courtney’s heart was racing as she tried to catch her breath.

There was a pause before Latrice spoke again.

“I assumed this would be your response.”

“Yeah, so. Now what?!”

“Now, I tell them that you feel very strongly about this, and that you’re not breaching any contract, and if they try to silence you on this issue, you’re prepared for a very public, very embarrassing fight,” Latrice said.

“Okay…” Courtney waited for the catch.

“I’m pretty sure they’ll drop it.”

“Just like that?” Courtney asked, confused. She’d gotten herself well and riled up, prepared for a real battle.

“Yeah, baby,” Latrice said. “Just like that. Chalk it up to white privilege.”

Courtney couldn’t help but laugh at that, head falling back on the sofa cushions.

“Good one, ma’am.”

After they hung up, Courtney opened Instagram, delighted that Vixen had updated her story. It was just a casual picture, her and two other professors getting ready to speak at a round table discussion. Courtney smiled, replying to the picture with heart eyes and the question, ‘Is that top from my collection?’

She responded a little while later, while Courtney was on the elliptical, saying, ‘I was hoping you’d notice. ;)’

Courtney giggled to herself, wondering when she’d get to meet this amazing, glowingly beautiful woman. All she wanted was to finally talk, face to face. Maybe in the spring, when her tour hit Chicago? Which, as far as Courtney was concerned, couldn’t happen soon enough.

***

It may very well have been a love letter, Vixen thought, finding her cheeks blazing hot at the thought. She’d woken up to a video posted on Courtney’s Twitter feed. “How To Be a Race Ally.”

Vixen watched the whole video with a healthy amount of skepticism. It was great, actually. Humble and informative. Cleverly incorporating some of the points from her podcast (with proper credit given) and even some things she’d said over text recently (also with credit, and a wink straight into the camera that made Vixen feel things she wasn’t prepared for at 7:30 in the morning).

Dr. Vixen Taylor @professorvixtaylor ∙ 1m Replying to @courtneyact Okay fine, you can come to the cookout.

As usual, Courtney's response was lightning fast, an emoji wearing a party hat and about 10 exclamation points. Vixen couldn’t resist teasing her a little bit more.

Dr. Vixen Taylor @professorvixtaylor ∙ 1m Replying to @courtneyact I don’t know how vegan-friendly it’ll be, though.  

Courtney Act @courtneyact ∙ 1m Replying to @professorvixtaylor You really think I’m there for the food? ;P

Vixen rose from her bed, an almost giddy feeling filling her chest. She really needed to calm the fuck down. What was with this silly schoolgirl behavior? And on a public platform? Every interaction ran the risk of absolutely ruining the street cred she’d spent years building up. (Monet was already making it her personal mission to screenshot every exchange and then tease her mercilessly, and Asia had begun to join in.)

Besides, what were the odds that it would ever be anything but a short-lived flirtation? Courtney was bound to become captivated by something else soon. An animal rights group, perhaps. Or funding for the arts in public schools. There were a billion issues competing for her attention. How long would Vixen’s moment in the sun possibly last?

And yet, when Courtney tweeted that she was on her way to New York, Vixen found herself taking a shot of liquid courage and then sending a text.

VIXEN: Hey...how long are you gonna be in New York?

COURTNEY: A couple of weeks, why?

VIXEN: Well, I have a conference at Columbia on February 23, and then I’m gonna stay for a few days. Maybe we could meet up?

COURTNEY: YES

COURTNEY: I mean, sure. Sounds lovely. Tell me what day you’re free. <3

***

It was strange, seeing Courtney in person after all this time. As much as Vixen enjoyed chatting with her, and as validating as it was to get so much attention, she had reminded herself over and over again that this was all just friendly banter. A bit of lighthearted flirting, maybe, but the possibility of a genuine romantic connection was absolutely out of the question.

But then.

When Courtney first emerged from the elevators, smile bright, it was like time ceased to be linear. Nothing...not pictures, not video, not even that concert she’d attended all those years ago, prepared her for how heart-stoppingly beautiful she was in person.

Vixen stood, in slow motion, knees shaking a little, suddenly hugely aware of her height. Was Courtney always this little? Why had Vixen worn heels?

It must have taken Courtney less than 10 seconds to cross the lobby to where Vixen stood, but for some reason, it felt like 10 years. Excruciatingly slow, and yet somehow, Vixen was still caught off guard as she bounded up and grasped both of her hands.

“Thank you so much for coming!” Courtney exclaimed, that dazzling smile still on her face. “It’s amazing to finally be in the same room!”

“Yeah, it’s…” Vixen offered a smile of her own, swallowing hard. Her hands were warm and soft, and as Vixen gazed down at her, she could feel her heart racing faster than ever. “How was your day?”

“Crazy…” Courtney linked an arm through Vixen’s, leading her towards the hotel bar.

It took a concerningly short time for all the weirdness to dissipate, for Vixen to forget that she was across the table from a celebrity, a person she’d been following for years, a person that she’d idolized at one point in her life.

She was just a girl. Granted, she was a beautiful girl, but one who seemed incredibly excited, even honored, to be talking to Vixen—about her book, her podcast, her life. Where she came from and what she cared about and who she looked up to. A girl who wanted to get to know her.

After awhile, when Vixen was finally relaxed enough to really open up, she told Courtney about hearing ‘Kaleidoscope’ for the first time. How, at that point in her transition, it made all the difference in the world to see Courtney so open about the fluidity of gender and sexuality. To hear those magical words. ‘This is who we are.’

Courtney nodded along, listening to her, tears filling her eyes. She covered Vixen’s hand with her own, and said, “I needed it too.”

As the hours ticked by, they talked about everything. Passion, art, travel, identity. She wanted to know when Vixen began to question her own gender, how she knew that she wanted to transition. She was delighted by the story of her brief foray into drag during the early college years, the source of her now permanent nickname. In spite of all the questions (or maybe because of them), for once, Vixen felt like she wasn’t on the defensive. She found herself being more sincere and honest about all of it than she’d been in a long time.

“I’m not usually this open,” she admitted at one point.

Courtney laughed, eyes glittering, and said, “I’m usually too open.”

“I think you’re just right,” Vixen replied, giving her a generous smile.

They talked about their childhoods. How much she loved pretend and fantasy as a kid.

“I went through a phase—that’s generous, it was like 3 years—where I really wanted to be a dragon. I had this dumb...dragon hoodie, that I wore all the time. And when I finally grew out of it, I cried.”

“Aww,” Courtney said, reaching for her hand. “I bet you were adorable.”

“I think I just really, really didn’t want to be me.”

Courtney took in a slow, deep breath, and then let it out even slower.

“I’m not gonna pretend that I really get it. Everything you’re talking about. I don’t know if I ever could. But...I get that part.”

Vixen raised an eyebrow.

“You? How do you get it?” Vixen let out a chuckle. “I’m not trying to judge you, but I just...look at you. You’re this perfect, sparkly princess. Everything the world wants a girl to be.”

“Yeah...I see what you’re saying. But...sometimes it feels like that’s all the world wants. Is the sparkly princess part. And I’m more than that. Or, I hope I am. But…” Courtney trailed off, wrinkling her nose. “Do I sound really dumb?”

“You don’t sound dumb. You sound like a very intelligent, thoughtful...sparkly princess.”

Courtney threw back her head and laughed.

“I can’t believe you laughed at that,” Vixen said with a shake of her head. “It was such a cheap shot.”

“Well, I’m an easy laugh,” Courtney said, shrugging unapologetically.

“Yeah I’ve heard that about you,” Vixen couldn’t help saying, and Courtney’s giggles continued.

They stared at each other for a few moments, eyes burning in the dim light, with matching, goofy grins decorating their faces, until Vixen broke, shaking her head.

“This is so surreal…”

“How so?” Courtney asked, voice lilting in a way that felt almost like a tease, resting a chin on her hand.

Vixen hesitated. It felt so cliché to say that it was because Courtney was famous, or because she once cried at her concert when she was 23.

“I mean...you’re not even really my type,” she finally answered with a small shrug.

“Oh yeah? What’s your type?”

“Ummm...I normally go for curvy Latinas,” Vixen said, lashes fluttering.

Courtney’s eyes widened, smile deepening, as she exclaimed, “Oh my god, me too!”

They both started laughing again, clinking glasses for good measure.

“So, um...do you have to go back to Chicago tomorrow?”

“Actually, no. I decided to stay a few more days,” Vixen replied. “See some shows, meet up with some friends. There’s this museum in Brooklyn that I’ve been dying to check out for years.”

“What museum?” Courtney asked.

“It’s, uh, called the Museum of Contemporary African Diasporan Arts,” Vixen said. “Kind of a mouthful but-”

“Sounds great. I wish I could see it.”

“You wanna come? I’m going tomorrow after lunch.”

“Ugh, I wish!” Courtney said, stretching her neck. “But the press tour schedule is insane. I’m doing two more interviews tomorrow, and then I fly to LA to kick off the tour.”

“Tough breaks.” Vixen tried, unsuccessfully, not to sound sarcastic.

“Listen, I’m not complaining. I’m very lucky.” Courtney smiled, tilting her head. “But it would’ve been cool to see that museum.”

“Next time,” Vixen promised.

“I’m holding you to that,” Courtney said, gaze fixed on Vixen’s face as she downed the rest of her drink.

Vixen gave a small nod, finding her eyes hypnotic. Surreal indeed.

They ordered yet another round as hotel patrons trickled out, crowd thinning, closing time approaching. By the time they stood up to leave, they’d knocked back quite a few--more than Vixen realized at the time. She grabbed Courtney’s arm to steady her as the blonde swayed in her heels.

“You alright?”

“Mmhmm…” Courtney gazed up at her, lashes fluttering.

“Do you want me to help you upstairs?”

“Okay…”

In the elevator, Courtney wrapped her arms around Vixen’s waist, leaning a head on her shoulder. Vixen’s heart hammered in her chest, one hand gripping the railing for support.

At the door, Courtney looked up at her, eyes bright, breathing out, “You know, we don’t have to be up until 10 tomorrow…”

“What are you…‘we?’”

It took Vixen a moment to catch on to her train of thought, a wave of nerves washing over her.

“Listen. Um. I think you’re great,” she began, wincing as she saw Courtney’s blissful expression crumble. “But...I just, I never hook up with girls who’ve been drinking. It’s just…”

Vixen didn’t want to explain the whole story. The girl in the lesbian bar, years ago, who danced with her all night, flirting and rubbing against her, inviting her back to her apartment. Only, when they began to undress, and it became clear that Vixen’s body was a little different, the girl flipped a switch. Went from a delightful buzz to drunken rage. Accused her of taking advantage, called her...Vixen didn’t even want to think about that. Or about how she’d left her apartment as fast as possible, terrified and choking back tears. How at home, she’d collapsed into Asia’s arms and sobbed most of the night, wondering if she’d ever fit in, anywhere.

Courtney wasn’t that girl in the bar—Vixen knew that. But she was clearly tipsy, and some things, some decisions, required a clear head.

“It’s not you,” she finished lamely. “You’re amazing.”

Courtney nodded, swallowing her disappointment like a champ and saying, “You’re amazing.”

Before she left, Vixen leaned in and brushed her lips against Courtney’s cheek.

She walked toward the elevator, regret stinging the back of her throat. She had no idea how long it would be before they saw each other again, and suddenly her arbitrary rules based on one shitty asshole in a bar 7 years ago seemed...absurd. She turned back around. Courtney was still leaning in her open doorway, watching her walk away.

“Hey, how drunk are you, actually? Can you recite the Pledge of Allegiance?” Vixen asked.

“No—” Courtney said, brow furrowed.

“Oh.” Vixen’s heart deflated a bit.

“—Because we don’t have the Pledge of Allegiance in Australia.”

“Right,” Vixen laughed.

“But what about, um, okay...so...here's a story from A to Z. You wanna get with me, you gotta listen carefully. We got Em in the place who likes it in your face. You got G like MC who likes it on a. Easy V doesn't-”

Vixen strode forward and silenced her with a kiss, soft and sweet, almost chaste at first, both of them giggling. As the kiss deepened, Vixen grabbed Courtney around the waist and pushed her backward into the room, letting the door slam shut behind them.

Vixen was so enamoured that she barely registered Courtney’s massive hotel suite, the entry hall or huge living room that Courtney led her through on the way to the bedroom. Guiding her by her hips to the bed, Courtney pushed her into a seated position and stood between her legs, chasing her lips as she took hold of her collar, fingering the little pearl buttons down the front of her shirt dress.

“Is this okay?” she asked, and Vixen nodded.

“Yeah.” She watched Courtney’s heavy-lidded eyes as she quickly opened the buttons, skin prickling as she pushed it off Vixen’s shoulders. She kissed Vixen again, deep and messy, sucking on her bottom lip.

Panting, Vixen reached around, fumbling for Courtney’s zipper. Once she pulled it down a few inches, the cotton dress easily came off over her head, and then there she was, standing in front of Vixen in nothing but a pair of baby blue panties.

Vixen swallowed, eyes sweeping over Courtney’s body, dying to touch her but nervous as all fuck.

“Listen, um...I should tell you…”

Courtney paused mid-way through opening Vixen’s belt to look at her curiously, face earnest and alert. The perfect student.

Vixen sighed. The fact that Courtney was so willing to listen, so considerate, should have been a bonus. But in this moment, it just made her feel startlingly inadequate. She hated this. The feeling of not being enough, or being too much. She didn’t even know anymore. All she knew was that she was about to make herself more vulnerable than she’d ever been, and she was terrified.

“So...Okay, um. I guess...it’s just been a long time since...I was with a girl.”

“Tell me about it,” Courtney said, grinning.

“No. A really long time,” Vixen said.

“Okay. Does that mean you don’t want-”

“No!” Vixen burst out, a little too emphatically, and then lowered her eyes bashfully, adding in a calmer voice, “No, I want to be with you, I just...might be a little out of practice.” It was an understatement, a lie of omission that unsettled Vixen’s stomach a bit. But it was all she felt comfortable with revealing at the moment, and she hoped that she’d be forgiven later.

“Hmm…” Courtney took Vixen’s face in her hands, tilting her chin up. “I think I can work with that…”

She bent down to kiss her again, soft as a whisper, fingers stroking Vixen’s cheekbones, before pulling back and gazing down at her.

“God,” Courtney breathed, “You are so beautiful.”

Vixen took in a shaky breath, her hands finally lifting to slide around Courtney’s hips. Something about the way Courtney looked at her was different than anything she’d ever experienced. She’d been the object of lust before, and sometimes very much enjoyed it. But this was more than that. She felt more than sexy, more even than beautiful. She felt seen.

But for once, rather than get all wrapped up in anxiety about what it meant, Vixen acted on instinct. She gripped Courtney's waist and pulled her forward, flinging her onto her back on bed. Courtney squealed delightedly, pulling her along.

Courtney smiled up at her, reaching a hand out but then pausing, letting her fingers rest on Vixen’s shoulder.

“Am I allowed to touch your hair? ‘Cause I’ve heard...”

Vixen couldn’t help laughing as she nodded and said, “That rule doesn’t really apply here.”

“Okay,” Courtney giggled, fingering her twists gently.

Vixen turned her head, pressing a kiss to Courtney’s wrist, then slowly moving up her arm, and finally nuzzling into her shoulder. Her skin smelled fresh and almost sweet, like she’d recently been in a doughnut shop. It wasn’t sugary like some kind of food-based perfume or soap, just a gentle, vague deliciousness that Vixen became addicted to immediately, burying her face into her neck to inhale deeply.

She found a soft, tender spot, just below Courtney’s ear, that made her sigh when kissed, and began to suck. Courtney inhaled sharply, hips thrusting up against Vixen’s, hands tightening in her hair.

“You like that?” Vixen asked, emboldened, hands sliding up from her waist to scratch gently at her ribcage.

“Uh huh,” Courtney breathed, arching up again as Vixen kissed her, thumb brushing over her hardened nipple. A whimper fell from her lips.

Vixen’s dress was half off at this point, pushed down around her waist, and when Courtney’s fingers began to trail lightly up and down her back, she shivered. Courtney pushed the dress further down, wriggling it over Vixen’s hips to her thighs, and Vixen pulled it off the rest of the way.

She was expecting to feel uncomfortably exposed, both of them now just in their panties—a situation she hadn’t found herself in with a woman is a very fucking long time. Especially a woman she liked this much. But instead of feeling awkward, she found her pulse racing with excitement, nearly breathless in anticipation of what might come next.

She realized that she’d been frozen for a few moments when Courtney raised herself up on her elbows and asked, “Are you alright?”

Vixen nodded, and Courtney sat up further, reaching out to touch her cheek.

“You want to take a break? Slow things down?”

“No,” Vixen said simply, slipping her fingers under the sides of Courtney’s panties. Her hips lifted, allowed Vixen to slide them off easily, heart in her throat when she saw how glistening wet she was already. She knew that she was potentially in over her head, but there was also a strong urge to keep going, pulse racing with desire.

“Come here.” Courtney stretched out her arm, pulling Vixen in for a kiss, tongues tangling together. She rolled Vixen over, onto her back, grinding down against her.

As much as Vixen wanted to please her, ceding control to Courtney felt liberating. She watched through heavy-lidded eyes as Courtney lavished her with affection, layering kisses against her skin. When a warm tongue swirled over her nipple, her hips jerked up, a stifled moan escaping from her throat.

Courtney sucked harder on her nipple, hands sliding down her torso, lips following as they trailed over Vixen’s tense abdomen. She hooked her fingers into the sides of Vixen’s panties and then looked up questioningly.

“Can I...?”

“Go ahead,” Vixen replied, straining to raise her hips, finding her core muscles in a weakened state, skin so flushed and hot that for a moment, she barely remembered to be self-conscious. Until Courtney began to slide her panties down, and suddenly she remembered exactly what she’d been dreading. When the reality of who she was would confront Courtney, more than theoretical, more than an idea.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she watched Courtney’s face. If she had any qualms about a girl with a dick, she certainly didn’t show it. She simply continued to suck soft kisses into her skin, warm hands resting on her thighs.

Vixen finally relaxed backwards, eyes falling shut. She let go of all her worries, all her stupid insecurities. At least for now. At least while Courtney took her dick into her mouth, tongue flicking delicately at her. Vixen’s hips thrust upwards, hands gripping the comforter tightly, moans dripping from her lips like honey.

It had been so achingly long since anyone had touched her this way. Maybe no one ever had, she realized as she arched into the soft caresses. She’s certainly never experienced this kind of loving attention from a woman, a woman treating her like she was precious and beautiful, turning her into a gasping, quivering mess. Vixen felt herself falling apart quickly, losing control, nearly gone before she had the wherewithal to choke out a pained warning.

“I’m-I’m gonna-”

“Mmhmmm…” Courtney made no move to stop, swirling her tongue again, then taking her deeper, sucking harder.

“Oh fuck,” Vixen moaned, hips pumping uncontrollably as she came, gasping for air.

The way Courtney’s hands stroked her thighs, continued to suck softly as she melted backwards into the pillows, every muscle in her body going slack--the small part of her that was still conscious shivered with delight, thrilled with the feeling of being spoiled.

It wasn’t until her body was completely still, bones feeling like jelly, when Courtney began to work her way up her body once again, hands sliding over her skin until she came nose to nose with her once again.

Courtney smiled, kissing her cheeks, down along her jaw, the corner of her mouth. Lips rousing her from a state of sheer exhaustion into warm, sleepy affection. Her hands circled Courtney's waist.

“How are you feeling, baby?” Courtney murmured.

“Uh huh.”

Courtney giggled, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger as she pressed more kisses against her.

Vixen sighed contentedly, pulling her in close, not caring how clingy and pathetic she might seem, just wanting the warmth of Courtney’s body against her own. Courtney snuggled into her arms, slipping to the side of her, legs still tangled together.

After a few slow, lazy kisses, Vixen started to sense a shift. Courtney’s breath grew hot and ragged, hips rutting against her. She cautiously moved a hand down, working it in between her thighs, fingers seeking out her wet heat.

“Show me what you want,” she urged, desire to give Courtney pleasure finally outweighing her fear of looking like an amateur.

Courtney lifted her head, giving her a sleepy grin and reaching down to guide her. She patiently showed Vixen exactly where to touch her, what to do to tease her, when to speed up and circle her clit, how deep for her fingers to go and exactly how to curl them to make her tremble. Vixen followed her breathless instructions, guided by Courtney’s own hand, thrilled at the way her body responded.

Soon, Courtney’s eyes were rolled back, muscles straining, tits brushing against Vixen’s chest as she thrusted against her fingers, fucking down into them, breathy moans music to Vixen’s ears. Her hips moved faster and faster until she stopped, whimpering, just barely grinding against the heel of Vixen’s hand, lips pressed to her neck.

Vixen had never made a girl come before, and it was so much more beautiful than she’d imagined, from the way her lashes fluttered against her cheeks to the slick sheen of sweat on her forehead, to her ass flexing, muscles still twitching against Vixen’s fingers. And the best part, the way she looked up at Vixen at the end, eyes locked with hers as the waves of pleasure radiated through her body, fingers wound tightly into her hair.

“Fuck,” Courtney sighed, collapsing against Vixen’s body, trapping her hand for a few moments before realizing it and letting her wriggle free with a sleepy laugh. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Vixen said, tilting her chin up for a kiss. Her whole body had suddenly become soft and pliant, and all Vixen wanted was to wrap her into an embrace. She wasn’t expecting it to feel this intimate. A part of her had even worried that this whole affair would be wrapped up in a one-night stand. But as Courtney cuddled against her, heart still hammering, she felt closer to her than ever. “I should probably tell you…”

“Mmm?”

“What I said earlier, about not being with a girl in a long time?” Vixen swallowed. “I uh...I haven’t really had a girlfriend since high school. And I guess I’ve come close since then, but never really went through with it...as me. The real me.”

Courtney lifted her head, fingers trailing down Vixen’s arm, a smile playing on her lips.

“Thank you for trusting me with the real you,” she said softly.

Vixen nodded, not sure what more there was to add, when a clap of thunder outside scared the living shit out of her, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin. So much for a warm and fuzzy moment.

Courtney laughed, pulling up the covers and cocooning them both, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” she said, snuggling tight against Vixen’s body.

“You better,” Vixen replied.

[essaysbyciara]

Thy Neighbor II: Lovin’ The Crew [Chapter 18]

[Prologue] [Chapters 1 + 2] [Chapters 3 + 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapters 7 + 8] [Chapters 9 + 10] [Chapters 11 + 12] [Chapter 13] [Chapters 14 + 15][Chapter 16] [Chapters 17]

WHAT? Yes. This story is alive! Well, it’s been alive and kickin’ on Wattpad for the past few weeks but I decided to update the story here since y’all the day ones. Plus I’m building a MASTERLIST of my stuffs so I wanted to have everything together. 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

"Ci! Girl, the trunk ain't that big..." Ashley steps outside to see Ciara's face showing a joyful kind of surprise as Winston struggles to wipe the smile off of his face. She interrupts their romance-movie gazes at each other, slamming the hard-oak door to the AirBnB behind her causing them both to break their gaze. "Ci, you good...?"

Ciara reluctantly exits her love story. "Ash, yeah ... I'm good. This is Winston. We go to Penn together. We just ran into each other." Winston walks up to shake Ashley's hand, his good boy manners getting the best of him. Ashley wasn't ready for all that politeness but she appreciates Winston's respectful nature.

"Nice to meet you, Ashley, I presume?"

"Good call ... the bottles are in the trunk, right?" Ashley presses Ciara on with a heavy look inside of the trunk. As much as she would love to meet new friends, she relishes her first weekend off in months and doesn't want to stop her fun to be friendly. She grabs the bottles of Hennessey and some cheap box wine and proceeds to walk back into the house, waving bye to Winston with her elbow. He goes back in for more conversation with Ciara.

"You guys are in for some fun, huh?"

"Yep, girl's weekend. I needed a break from my thesis."

"Ah, man. Me too, me too. I didn't want to come up for this planning meeting for my church..."

Winston jumped onto so many committees, he lost count. The more commitments, the more he doesn't have time to toll away at his papers.

"Where do you go?"

"Flower Street Baptist..."

Ciara knows Flower Street to be Y'lan's church and begins to understand how Winston and Y'lan got to know each other. It's another painful reminder that Trevante still doesn't know about her and Y'lan's past. She figures that Y'lan will be with Trevante this weekend and fears the moment Trevante tells all and Y'lan feels pushed to let the cat out of the bag about he and Ciara's last conversation together. It was only days ago that Y'lan confronted Ciara about her relationship with Trevante all the while somewhat confessing to her that he still carried feelings for her. Ciara's chest tenses up at the conversation she must have with Trevante once she gets home but she desires an escape from her emotions and Winston can provide that.

"FSB, yeah. Solid church. Reverend J.B. Jones, yeah ...so what brought you down the road here?"

"There's a trailway up ahead that the lodge owner recommended. I, uh, just needed to clear my head for a minute." Winston wants to escape as well. Boggled down in meetings and planning groups all day, he wants to take his mind off of everything from Flower Street to his thesis. Ciara's been in the recesses of his mind since she messaged him back about the playlist. Ciara didn't know that certain songs on the playlist were for her in mind, soundtracks to the what-ifs only if the Universe got everybody out of the way. But if "Can We Talk?" by Tevin Campbell could be acted out in this moment, why stop it? "I'm actually about to take a walk around real quick if you want me to show you where it is?"

"Oh, man. Yes! Let me just let my girls know. " Ciara jumps ahead of the curve. Winston's heart just jumps. He watches her walk inside of the house, emotions growing from bewildered into excitement. He texts Y'lan the good news.

Hey, man. Guess who I ran into up here?

Y'lan doesn't have much time to respond to Winston once Trevante, Stephan and the rest of Trevante's fraternity brothers barge their way throughout the multi-level rental just outside of Center City. They wanted to be close to Old City -- all the bars and hangout spots -- plus a short Uber ride to the strip club.

As the crowd grows larger, Y'lan's face grows more nervous. Y'lan, unlike his older brothers, didn't do the fraternity thing in college because he was scared by all of the stories he heard. Tre and Michael's fraternity brothers are living up to the hype.

"I can't believe you married her, bruh." Stephan says to Malik, one of the older fraternity brothers. "She was a damn slide..." He's on his third glass of Crown and letting himself get all the way loose. Trevante watches Malik's nostrils flare up and knows it's time to cut this out. "Yo, Stephan. Watch your mouth."

"Whatever, Tre. He knows I'm just playing. Tracee is a sweeeeeeetheart." The laughs and snickers carry throughout the room and Trevante's laugh is a mixture between embarrassment and wince. "Plus, who are you to say shit? You run through bitches like a track meet, Tre!"

Trevante waivers on whether to tell his friends about his new normal; about this girl named Ciara who came into his life after a moment of tragedy and became the woman that he saw himself building a future with. This woman who Y'lan is starting to fall back in love with and who he just learned is up in the Poconos with Winston.

Trevante decides to wait.

@doublesidedscoobysnacks @diva-princess-on-fleek @voyagetoadinas9 @walkrstalkrightuptothesun @wvsspoppin  @dreamlovealways @rockwit609 @thegayaxeman @joyfulwombatdreamermaker @blackpinup22 @hookedtoherfire @kris-did-it @l-auteuse @styleismyaddiction

[idolish7rabbitchats]

Isumi Haruka: Birthday 2019 Rabbit TV Part 3

Touma: O-Oi, Haru. Where are you going? Today’s your birthday right..?

Minami: That’s a new development...

Torao: Didn’t you need to buy the cake from Haruka’s favorite shop?

Haruka: ……..

Haruka: I’ll purchase you guys’ time from now on.

Touma & Minami & Torao: Eh?

Touma: Purchase...

Torao: Heeh. How much is my hour valued at?

Minami: Midou-san, your point of view is unique as usual.

Haruka:  H-However much is fine! ...Because you guys took care of my grandma a lot last time...

Haruka: So I’ll make it even with this!

Touma: We did what we liked that time though? Even so...

Haruka: It’s fine! Or I won’t be satisfied!

Touma: …..Hmmmm….

Minami: ...Then, Isumi-san. Buying our time, where will you take us?

Torao: I’ve bought various times but this is my first time being bought. Doesn’t feel too bad.

Haruka: ….Come here. Follow me.

Touma & Minami & Torao: This is...

Touma: A coffee shop huh.

Minami: A coffee shop huh.

Torao: A coffee shop.

Haruka: ….. Sh-Shut up!

Haruka: I don’t really know gorgeous places like Torao knows, fancy places like Minami knows, or trendy places like Touma knows! 

Haruka: ….So… Buying you guys’ time, eat and drink what you like here! I’ll pay for all of it!

Haruka: That’s…. A return for that time!

Touma: ….Haru…..

Touma: ….Somehow, I don’t really get it but it makes me feel like I’m gonna cry...

Haruka: Ha-Haaah?!

Touma: Haru, you’ve grown up… Is how your grandma feels….

Haruka: That’s creepy…!

Minami: Oh my. Is it fine? I’ll eat a lot.

Haruka: As you wish!

Torao: You are the man, Haruka. Then I’ll also eat junk food occasionally.

Haruka: It’s pretty good here! This pilaf and such...

Touma: ...Hey hey. On the days we celebrated our birthdays, it became like a tradition to show a video right?

Touma: So, we shot this kind of thing tho...

Haruka: Hah?! What?!

[Video Starts]Touma: ….Yeah, we’re coming to Haruka’s room now.

Minami: Inumaru-san, is it fine? Doing that kind of thing...

Touma: It doesn’t mean anything weird. I thought it would be nice to take a video letter type of thing...

Torao: Then, I’ll shoot it. Touma, switch with me.

Touma: No no, that’s meaningless isn’t it?!

Touma: ….Ah! Haru also has this CD huh. We have similar tastes…! Maybe I can play this with the component a little...

Minami: Inumaru-san, won’t he hate you if you touch it without permission?

Torao: If we don’t hurry, Haruka’s gonna come back tho?

Touma: That would be bad…! Um… Let’s put my phone over here.

Touma: ...Uhh, ahem. Haru, thanks a lot for inviting us to your house today.

Minami: It started suddenly huh….

Touma: This is not something that we would do a little while ago... Somehow, I’m really moved.

Touma: ...Right, Tora, Mina!

Torao: Y-Yeah. Well, that’s right.

Minami: Wait, Inumaru-san. If you’re gonna start, please say that you’ll start.

Touma: S-Sorry sorry. I’m not used to doing this kind of stuff...

Torao: ...And? What should we say?

Touma: Uuuuuuumm… Our solo songs started from Ryo-san’s idea? Or on a whim? But...

Touma: Haru, at that time… He said he didn’t feel like singing if it wasn’t Mina’s song, so I think that’s why who we are now exists.

Touma: So from now on too, let’s continue singing the songs Mina makes as four!

Touma: Yeah…!

Minami: ...What is this...?

Torao: Is this a declaration?

Touma: N….No no! It's a video letter, or a message for Haru...

Touma: … Huh? Did I not talk about it like that…?

Minami: …*sighs*.... Seriously, just please tell him directly later. Isumi-san would also be happier with that right.

Torao: Right. We’re all going to celebrate together again right? It's fine then right.

Haruka: Hey, dinner’s ready tho!

Touma: ...Shit! I’ll stop the video for now! [Video Ends]

ZOOL: ………...

Haruka: What is this.

Minami: See, that’s what I said! That we should’ve put this on a shelf...

Torao: My face was not that good since I wasn’t paying attention...

Touma: Ha-Haru. This is… 

Haruka: ….Ahahah… This is really sloppy! Haha...

Haruka: This is what you were doing while I was helping my grandma?

Touma: ...I thought it could become memories though…?

Haruka: ………… Stupid, it became it, that kind of thing.

Touma: Haru…...

Haruka: This is my first birthday that’s this weird. Until now, it’s just been me and my grandma.

Haruka: ...You said this project went forward because of me, but that’s wrong.

Haruka: It’s because Minami gave his all and we were also able to answer it right.

Haruka: Look, this playlist.

Torao: … A playlist of our solo songs huh...

Haruka: A proof that Minami made really good songs and we sang those.

Haruka: You’ll update this playlist more right, Minami.

Minami: ...Yes. Of course.

Haruka: Then this is the pre-celebration for that. ...The menu from here and there, I’ll order everything! Let’s eat them all! 

Touma: Uwaaah..! That’s a bad act that we yearn to do once…!

Torao: Since we’ll eat everything, isn’t that a good act for the store side including their sales?

Minami: Fufu. This is the time to put all my might here too.

Haruka: ...I don’t mind holding hands with these negative emotions.

Haruka: We just have to do it.