#since our birthdays are all close to each other and i though we should celebrate

[victory-cookies]

.

[levisjinchuriki]

forever yours - chapter 6

summary: you’re faced with questions about your relationship while trying to celebrate haru’s birthday 

warning: fluff, confrontation, angst, slow burn, mentions of nanami and mei mei

word count: 4.9k

a/n: this is the second part of the double upload tonight. i think this is the longest chapter i've ever written. i hope you enjoy!!

planning haru’s fourth birthday becomes a focal point for you and gojo. you spend your evenings texting back and forth, discussing the theme, the guest list, and the activities that will keep a group of energetic four-year-olds entertained. it feels surprisingly natural, like slipping into a well-worn routine, even though it’s been months since you and gojo have done anything like this together.

gojo calls you one night to finalize the plans. you both get lost in the details, bouncing ideas off each other until you’re sure you’ve covered every detail. it feels… good. comfortable. and you’re grateful he’s being so involved. 

you mention that you’re planning to invite haru’s whole class, along with any parents who want to join the celebration. it’s a standard move, but gojo's curiosity turns to the guest list for the people who are closer to both of you—family and close friends.

“i’ve been thinking about that…” you begin hesitantly. “i’m a little hesitant to tell people about what’s going on”.

the silence stretches, filled with unspoken understanding. finally, he speaks, his tone gentle and reassuring. “you don’t have to tell anyone anything if you’re not ready,” he says gently. “we can keep the details to ourselves for now”.

his words offer a surprising comfort. gojo’s patience and understanding make it easier to navigate the uncertainty of sharing personal information, especially when the situation is still evolving.

“i appreciate that” you reply, your voice carrying a touch of gratitude. “i just want to focus on making haru’s birthday special without having to explain everything”

“let’s keep things simple and make sure haru has a fantastic birthday. we’ll deal with the rest as it comes” he says. his calm assurance settles over you, easing some of the tension you’ve been holding. you find solace in his commitment to prioritize haru’s happiness, allowing you to set aside worries about other people's judgments or expectations for now. 

since you’re being honest, you mention nanami stopping by the other day, too. he’s going to be at the party and it’s only right to warn gojo that he isn’t his biggest fan at the moment. he was never gojo’s biggest fan to begin with.

“kento came over the other day” you say. gojo waits for you to continue, not wanting to jump to conclusions. “he was asking about us, but i didn’t say much. just want to give you a heads-up, so you’re prepared”

gojo’s silence on the other end of the line is brief but thoughtful. “kento’s protective of you, so i understand why he’d ask. it’s probably for the best that you’re keeping things simple for no”.

“yeah, i agree,” you say. “it’s just... i felt like i was walking a tightrope, trying not to reveal too much but still being honest enough to not cause concern.”

“he’ll understand” gojo reassures you. “it’s not easy navigating all this. but we’ll figure it out”

the reassurance in his words calms you. “thank you,” you say softly. “i don’t want to invite unnecessary stress right now. haru’s birthday should be about him, not about our situation”

“agreed,” gojo replies. “we’ll keep the focus where it belongs– on making sure haru has an amazing day. everything else can wait”

his words bring a sense of clarity and calm. gojo’s right- the decision to keep things quiet, to take one step at a time, is something only you and satoru have to understand. there’s no rush, no need to force anything. for now, it’s enough that you’re both trying. that’s all that matters.

—

the backyard is bustling with color and excitement: balloons bobbing in the gentle breeze, a table laid out with treats and snacks, and a bounce house for the kids to play in. the decorations are all in place, and the games are set up, promising hours of fun for the kids.

gojo arrived early to help with the setup. his effort to ensure everything was perfect adds to the sense of teamwork and shared responsibility that you both strive for. 

as you arrange the last of haru’s presents and dress him in his party outfit, you feel a swell of pride. haru looks adorable, his eyes wide with excitement as he takes in the festive atmosphere. 

you catch glimpses of him darting around with his friends as guests start to arrive, laughter and cheers filling the air. watching haru enjoy himself fills you with a profound sense of accomplishment. as you take a moment to observe the scene, you realize that, for now, this is enough. the effort you’ve both put in to make this day memorable reflects the shared love and dedication you have for haru. the day is a success in its own right, and that’s what matters most.

guests continue to fill the backyard. you find yourself flitting around like a hummingbird, attending to every small detail with a sense of urgency and precision. you catch yourself straightening the tablecloth for the third time, adjusting the streamers hanging above the patio to ensure they hang at the perfect angle, and making sure the snack table is fully stocked and inviting. each adjustment, each small correction, feels crucial to achieving a sense of order and perfection.

despite the busyness, there’s a part of you that’s acutely aware of the weight you’re carrying—the subtle pressure to create a flawless celebration while managing the delicate dynamics of your current situation with gojo. you want everything to be perfect, not just for haru, but also to create a momentary bubble where the complexities of life can be set aside. and a part of you wants to show the people closest to you that you’re doing okay. the effort to maintain this façade is as much about your own reassurance as it is about others’ perceptions. you want to be seen as someone who’s managing, who’s moving forward, and who can still experience happiness.

you hear haru’s excited squeal and turn to see his tiny legs carrying him across the yard with boundless energy. his eyes light up the moment he spots his uncle walking into the backyard. 

“nami! you came!” haru’s voice rings out with pure excitement as he charges forward, arms outstretched.

kento crouches down, catching haru in a big hug as he reaches him. the warmth in his eyes as he embraces his nephew eases your tension. 

“of course i came. i wouldn’t miss your birthday for the world,” kento says kindly, a soft smile tugging at his lips. his eyes crinkle with affection as he holds haru close. “are you having fun?”.

“yeah!” haru exclaims, practically bouncing in kento’s arms. “there’s cake and games, and mommy said there’s gonna be presents later!”.

nanami chuckles, setting haru back down. “sounds like you’re having a great time,” he says, his voice warm.

haru beams up at him, his excitement contagious. “come play with us! we’re about to start another game!”. haru’s small hand wraps around his uncle’s index finger, tugging him eagerly toward the other kids.

nanami glances at you and offers a quick greeting. “everything looks great,” he says, acknowledging your efforts before letting haru pull him away. his presence, steady and calm, brings a sense of normalcy to the day, easing some of the tension you’ve been carrying.

as you watch them join in the fun, you smile at the sight of haru’s joy. his uncle’s arrival has clearly made his day even more special, and seeing nanami so naturally fall into the role of the doting uncle warms your heart. it’s moments like these that remind you how important family is, and how much support you truly have, even when things feel uncertain.

your mother’s voice fills your ears as you turn to give her a hug. she carries a note of surprise as she greets you, her eyes widening slightly. “satoru is here?” she asks, her tone tinged with curiosity and a hint of concern.

you take a deep breath, trying to keep your composure. “yes, he’s here” you reply, offering a casual smile. you sense the questions brewing behind her eyes, but you decide not to elaborate. “it’s haru’s day. we both want to be here for him”. 

your mother’s expression shifts to one of guarded interest. she’s aware of the separation and the challenges it brought. gojo’s presence at haru’s birthday party is unexpected to her, but she remains polite.

you choose to keep the details of your situation to yourself, understanding that this is not the time for in-depth explanations. instead, you gently steer the conversation toward the party’s details, discussing how much haru is enjoying his special day.

—-

as the time for everyone to sing “happy birthday” approaches, the excitement among the guests builds. the sun has set, casting a darkness over the yard, and gojo makes sure to turn on the string lights, their warm glow softly illuminating the backyard. it looks perfect.

haru stands in front of his birthday cake with wide eyes, ready for the big moment. the cake, decorated with bright colors and whimsical designs, reflects the festive spirit of his fourth birthday, a day he’ll surely remember.

you glance around at the circle of smiling faces—family, friends, and gojo, all gathered to celebrate your son. it’s nice to have this moment with everyone. just a few months ago, you didn’t think you’d be here, sharing this joy.

everyone begins to sing "happy birthday" in unison. haru beams as he looks at the flickering candles, his excitement barely contained. gojo crouches beside him, a proud smile on his face, and you watch with a mix of pride and nostalgia. the warmth of the moment wraps around you like a comforting embrace, filling your heart with a deep sense of contentment.

as the song ends, haru claps his hands and giggles, and everyone cheers. with a deep breath, and some help from his dad, he leans forward and blows out the candles. everyone erupts in applause and cheers, celebrating this small but significant milestone in his life.

gojo places his hands on top of haru’s smaller ones as they hold the knife to cut the first slice. he leans close to haru, whispering something in his ear and haru nods eagerly, his eyes lighting up with understanding. after placing the first slice of cake on a paper plate, haru holds it up.

“for mommy!” he announces, offering you the slice with a bright smile. your eyebrows raise in surprise; usually, the birthday boy gets the first slice of cake.

“oh, thank you, baby,” you say, taking the plate from his small hands and smoothing back his hair affectionately. haru beams with pride, happy to have made you smile.

gojo praises him, his voice warm and encouraging, before turning to serve pieces to the guests. he glances over at you, his gaze soft and supportive. it’s a silent reassurance, a reminder that he’s here for haru—and for you. the shared look lingers for a moment, a quiet acknowledgment of the bond that remains between you, no matter how complicated things may be. 

you take a moment to savor the sight of haru enjoying his birthday, his laughter filling the air as he eagerly grabs a slice of cake. the joy in his eyes makes all the effort worthwhile, and you’re grateful for the support gojo is providing.

after everyone’s had their slice of cake, you join them in eating. it’s good—funfetti flavor with frosting and sprinkles, haru’s favorite. you can tell by the way the icing is messily smeared on his chubby cheeks, a telltale sign of his enthusiasm. gojo chuckles at the sight, his laughter light and genuine, before leaning in to wipe haru clean with a napkin.

once haru’s face is free of frosting, gojo helps him finish the rest of his slice, guiding the fork to his mouth with the same tenderness he shows in everything he does with your son. the scene fills you with a warm sense of contentment, a reminder that, despite everything, these small, precious moments of family togetherness still exist.

when you’re done with your slice, you start going around to collect the dirty plates and utensils, ready to toss them away. as you’re tidying up, one of haru’s friend's moms approaches you with a friendly smile.

“this has been a great party. thank you for inviting us,” she says kindly. you thank her for coming and express how happy you are that everyone has had a great time tonight. the two of you chat for a while, making friendly conversation, before she changes the subject.

“you should get a picture with haru and your husband,” she suggests warmly. “it’s not every day you have such a big celebration!”.

you hesitate for a second, glancing over at gojo, who’s currently helping haru with one of his birthday presents. husband is a name you haven’t used for gojo in a long time and it catches you off guard for a second. the idea of taking a picture together, as a family, feels like stepping into dangerous territory, especially in front of everyone—close friends and family who are more aware of your situation than the other parents here. but when you see the joy on haru’s face as he tears into his gifts, you can’t bring yourself to refuse.

“sure,” you agree, not making an effort to correct her. “that sounds nice.”

you call gojo, who looks up and nods, making his way over with haru in tow. he effortlessly scoops up your son, placing him on his hip, and the three of you gather close together, slightly away from everyone else.

the mom raises your phone, her finger hovering over the button. “okay, everyone smile!” she says cheerfully.

you and gojo lean in slightly, both of you instinctively placing a hand on haru’s back to steady him. haru, caught up in the excitement of the moment, beams up at the camera, his bright smile making your heart swell with pride. you both give your best smile, capturing a moment that, despite everything, feels like a brief return to what once was.

the mom suggests another one for good measure. just as the photo is about to be taken, gojo glances at you, his gaze soft. the warmth in his eyes catches you off guard, and for a moment, you forget about everything else—the uncertainty, the fear, the complicated web of emotions you’ve been trying to navigate. in that split second, it’s just the three of you, captured in a moment of happiness.

the camera clicks, and the moment is frozen in time.

the mom hands you the phone to check the picture. the image is perfect: haru’s wide grin, gojo’s gentle expression, and your own smile, which, despite everything, looks genuinely happy. it’s a beautiful capture of a moment that feels both precious and fleeting.

“thank you,” you say to her, your voice soft with gratitude. the small gesture of kindness means a lot, and the photos are a reminder of the joy that still exists in these moments of togetherness.

“anytime,” she replies with a smile before walking away.

as you look at the photo again, gojo leans over, peeking at the screen. “that’s a nice one,” he comments, his tone light but sincere.

you nod, still processing the flood of feelings the picture stirs within you. “yeah, it is,” you murmur.

the rest of the party goes by in a blur of games, cake, and laughter, but the image stays with you—an unexpected reminder that, despite everything, there’s still something strong and unbreakable between you and gojo. 

—

as the party winds down and guests start to mingle in smaller groups, you find yourself momentarily alone, tidying up. out of the corner of your eye, you see mei mei approaching, her sharp eyes fixed on you with a curiosity that makes you instantly wary.

“looks like the party was a success” she remarks casually, leaning against the table with a cup of lemonade in hand. “haru seems like he had a great time”. 

you smile politely, nodding. “yeah, he did. i’m really happy he’s had such a nice day”.

mei mei’s gaze lingers on you for a moment before she continues. “it seems like you and satoru managed to pull it off together pretty well. you two looked quite... cozy taking that picture earlier”.

you look around to make sure no one is listening before meeting her gaze, trying to keep your expression neutral. “yes, we did” you reply, choosing your words carefully. “it was important to us that haru had a special day”.

mei mei raises an eyebrow, her tone shifting slightly. “i can see that. it’s nice to see you both putting your differences aside for him. it must be quite the balancing act”. her comment is insightful but also probing, making you feel a bit defensive. 

you stiffen slightly at her accusation, trying to keep your expression neutral. “we’re just doing what’s best for haru”.

“of course” she agrees. “so… how are things with you and gojo?”. her tone is light, but you can sense the underlying tone of curiosity. mei mei has always been able to read people well, and you know she’s not asking just for the sake of conversation.

you hesitate, trying to keep your expression neutral. “things are fine” you reply, hoping to keep the conversation short.

“fine?” she repeats, raising an eyebrow. “i thought you two were in the process of getting divorced”. her gaze is piercing as she studies your reaction. “i couldn’t help but notice he’s still wearing his wedding ring. that’s a bit unusual given the circumstances, no?”.

your heart skips a beat, but you quickly mask your discomfort with a practiced smile. “it’s... complicated” you say, hoping to end the conversation there.

mei mei huns. “complicated, huh? are you two really going through with it, or is there something else going on?”. she sips her drink, her eyes never leaving yours.

you give her a look, feeling cornered by her questions. “mei mei” you warn, wanting her to drop it. “let’s not get into this right now”.

she’s clearly unconvinced but doesn’t push further. “i see” she says, drawing out the words as if she’s filing away the information for later. “well, i hope you know what you’re doing. you wouldn’t want to end up back where you started, right?”.

the comment stings more than you expect, and you swallow the urge to react defensively. “thanks for your concern, mei mei” you say politely, trying to steer the conversation to a close. “but we’re handling it”.

she gives you a small smile, sensing your discomfort. “of course. i’m always here if you need to talk”. with that, she walks away.

you take a deep breath, the conversation leaving you feeling uneasy. the encounter with mei mei has stirred up lingering doubts and uncertainties, and her words echo in your mind as you return to tidying up. 

—

gojo experiences a confrontation of his own. he finds himself near the edge of the party, away from the noise. nanami approaches him quietly and the two men stand together for a moment in a tense silence.

“satoru” he greets, his tone neutral but edged with a hint of caution. “it’s been a while”.

gojo glances at nanami, recognizing the underlying tension. “yeah, it has” he replies, his tone equally guarded. the space between them feels charged, both men aware of the strained dynamics due to recent events. “how is everything?” he asks, in an attempt to make conversation. 

nanami’s eyes narrow slightly. “everything’s fine. haru’s having a great time, which is what matters today”.

gojo’s expression softens slightly as he watches haru play with the other kids. “i’m happy i could be here with him” he says honestly, his gaze reflecting a rare moment of vulnerability.

nanami’s jaw clenches, his frustration barely contained. despite his usual professionalism, the personal stakes make it harder for him to stay restrained. “you know…” nanami says quietly but firmly, “it’s not just about showing up. it’s about being consistent and reliable. haru deserves more than just occasional appearances. being here now doesn’t erase the past. you’ve caused a lot of pain”.

nanami’s words surprise gojo, but he remains neutral. 

“i know i have” gojo responds, his tone steady but weighed down by the seriousness of the conversation. “i’m aware of my mistakes”.

nanami’s gaze sharpens, his frustration evident. “mistakes? you’ve done more than just make mistakes. you’ve hurt my sister, and she’s had to deal with that while taking care of your son” he says, his tone accusatory.

gojo meets nanami’s intense scrutiny with a steady gaze. “i’m aware of how much i’ve hurt her. i’m not asking for immediate forgiveness or trust. all i can offer is my commitment to change”.

nanami crosses his arms, his eyes never leaving gojo’s. “commitment isn’t just words. it’s actions. how can you be trusted to not slip back into old habits? you’ve promised change before, and it didn’t stick”.

gojo’s jaw tightens, but he maintains his composure. he respects your request to keep your relationship under wraps for now, but it stings to hear such harsh words thrown at him.

nanami’s points hit close to home, acknowledging the rift that was caused by his previous failures. the frustration and disappointment in nanami’s eyes are palpable, a reminder of the long road ahead.

“i understand” gojo says, his voice steady but low. “i’m not asking for blind trust. i know that earning it back will take more than just words. i’m making an effort to be present, to work on my issues, and to be a better person and father. it’s not going to be perfect, but i’m committed to doing better”.

nanami’s gaze remains cautious. “and what about her feelings? how are you addressing her concerns and the impact your actions have had on her?”.

gojo reflects on the weight of nanami’s words. “i’ve been working to listen more, to be more present for her. it’s a process, and i know i need to keep proving myself”.

nanami remains skeptical. “there needs to be a sustained effort, not just promises. my sister deserves that”.

gojo meets nanami’s intense gaze with a deep sense of resolve. “i understand. i’m prepared to show that effort and to earn back her trust. it’s not something i take lightly”.

nanami studies gojo’s face for a long moment before giving a slow, reluctant nod. as nanami walks away, gojo takes a deep breath, the conversation having tested his resolve but also reinforcing his commitment to making things right. the interaction with nanami has been intense, but it’s a necessary step in proving his sincerity and dedication to repairing the relationship with you. 

—

by the time the last guest leaves, you’re utterly spent. the effort to ensure every detail of haru’s birthday was perfect has taken its toll, and you finally feel the weight of exhaustion settle over you as you sit on the couch.

the house is littered with the remnants of the celebration—crumpled wrapping paper, half-empty plates, and scattered balloons. the once lively atmosphere has faded, leaving behind a stillness that contrasts sharply with the earlier excitement. you glance around at the aftermath, feeling both a sense of accomplishment and the heaviness of fatigue. the joy of haru’s birthday was worth it, but the day’s demands have left you feeling drained.

gojo, noticing your weariness, sits beside you. “you did an amazing job today” he says softly, offering a comforting smile. “haru had a great time”.

you manage a tired smile, grateful for his presence and support. “you deserve some credit, too. thanks for being here” you reply, appreciating his kind words. he hums, letting a moment pass before speaking again. 

“you know, kento really hates me,” he says with an almost rueful laugh. 

you look at him, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement. “he can be a bit... protective,” you admit, recognizing that his comment acknowledges the tension while also trying to lighten the mood.

gojo’s expression softens as he looks at you. “i understand why he’s cautious. i haven’t exactly given him a reason to like me recently”.

you sigh and nod. “it’s been complicated. i’m sorry if he was hard on you”.

gojo shakes his head. “i get it. but, i’m willing to prove to him that i’m serious about making things right”. despite the challenges and the scrutiny from your family, gojo’s commitment to making amends gives you a renewed sense of determination.

you look over at haru, who has fallen asleep on the other side of the couch. his tiny form is nestled into the cushions. his chest rises and falls with each peaceful breath. as you gaze at him, memories flood back—snapshots of his growth, milestones, and moments that have defined his early years.

“i can’t believe he’s four already,” you say, your voice a mix of disbelief and nostalgia. a smile tugs at your lips as you watch him, the weight of time’s passage settling over you.

gojo looks at haru with a soft, affectionate gaze. “he’s growing up fast”.

your smile is tinged with both happiness and a touch of sadness. “i remember when we first brought him home from the hospital” you say softly, more to yourself than to gojo. “he was so tiny, so fragile. i used to worry about every little thing”.

gojo chuckles softly. “and now look at him. running around, full of energy and curiosity. it’s incredible how quickly they grow up”.

you nod in agreement. “it feels like just yesterday we were learning how to navigate parenthood together. and now, he’s this little person with his own thoughts and ideas”. there’s a nostalgic tone in your voice. “i think back to all those late-night feedings, the first steps, the way he would look up at us with such trust. it’s amazing how much has changed in such a short time”.

gojo’s gaze softens, reflecting on those shared moments. “we’ve had so many firsts with him. it’s been a whirlwind, but it’s been worth every minute”.

you sigh, a hint of sadness in your voice. “sometimes i wonder where the time has gone. it feels like it’s slipping through my fingers so quickly. i wish i could hold onto these moments just a little longer”.

gojo nods, a gentle smile playing on his lips. “i know what you mean. we’ve made so many wonderful memories together, and we still have so many more to make”.

you look at gojo, seeing the hope in his eyes. “yes, we do. i want to make sure we’re there for every step of the way, for him and for us”. gojo’s smile widens, touched by your words. he wants that, too.

“by the way, what did you say to haru after he blew out his candles?” you ask curiously.

gojo’s ears turn red. “i told him to give the first slice to the person he loves most,” he says softly. his eyes, reflecting a deep tenderness, meet yours and hold a gaze that makes your heart flutter. it’s as if he’s offering a piece of his own affection through his words.

a blush makes its way to your cheeks. “that was really sweet of you” your voice soft with genuine appreciation. the significance of the moment isn’t lost on you, and you share a warm, appreciative look with gojo. haru’s thoughtful act, prompted by his father, is a sweet reminder of the love and connection that still lingers between you all, despite everything.

after a moment, gojo notices your exhaustion and stands. “why don’t you rest on the couch for a bit? you’ve worked hard today. i’ll handle the cleanup”. you open your mouth to protest, but a yawn escapes you, and you realize how tired you truly are. the thought of resting your eyes, even for a short while, feels too good to resist. 

“okay” you mumble, making yourself more comfortable. “thank you”.

gojo hums and begins tidying up, his movements efficient and unhurried. he clears away the remnants of the party—plates, cups, and leftover cake. his actions are steady, almost soothing, as he handles the tasks with practiced ease.

you scoot behind haru, wrapping a protective arm around him so he doesn’t fall. the warmth of the couch, combined with the comfort of the day’s end, lulls you into a sense of relaxation. it’s not long before your eyelids grow heavy. the gentle rise and fall of haru’s breathing and the soft hum of gojo’s movements in the background create a cocoon of peace, and before you know it, you’re drifting off.

it takes a while, but gojo finally finishes cleaning up the last of the mess, making sure everything is in its place. he moves quietly as he puts away the final items. when he’s satisfied that the space is back to its usual order, he takes a moment to glance over at you and haru.

his heart swells at the sight of both of you resting so peacefully. he takes a nearby blanket and drapes it over the both of you, before bending down to place a gentle kiss on both of your foreheads. the touch is tender, a silent promise of care and commitment. 

with a final, lingering look, gojo turns off the lights, casting the room in a soft, tranquil darkness.

he quietly leaves the house, making sure to lock the few door behind him. as gojo heads to his own place, the quiet satisfaction of having cared for the evening’s needs settles over him, knowing that despite the challenges, moments like these—shared in peace and tenderness—are the foundation on which new beginnings are built.

---

ch 7>>

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Q&A: The Phantom Broadway Proshot

Happy 36th Birthday to Phantom of the Opera's opening night on Broadway! We should be celebrating at the Majestic. The show never should have closed.

In order to create "new" ish POTO Broadway content, @or-what-you-will and I promised to answer your questions about the proshot on POTO Broadway's birthday. Find our summary of the Proshot here.

We got dozens of questions, which we've consolidated into 14 questions. Read them all past the cut!

Wait, what’s the Phantom Proshot?

The Phantom Proshot is an archival copy of the original Broadway cast and production of Phantom of the Opera, filmed at the evening performance with a live audience on May 25, 1988. The New York Public Library, Theatre on Film and Tape Archive at the Performing Arts Library at Lincoln Center has archival copies of Broadway, Off-Broadway, and Regional theater going back to 1970. You can’t view currently running shows, so since Phantom ran for so long, it was under lock and key.

2. How do I see the Pro-Shot? 

Pretty simple how to guide here on the NYPL website. 

We are both NYPL cardholders and made a reservation in advance. You are required to state why you are accessing the recording as they exist for archival and research purpose. Both of us are published authors and researchers under our real names. 

Here's a picture of the room we were in from NYPL's website. We had an appointment and were set up in a room with lots of monitors. We were seated at monitors next to each other with two sets of headphones and had one set of controls to pause/rewind etc. There are 20 monitors in the room and it was pretty full that day. This was not my first time at the TOFT and it’s always had a good number of people around. 

3. Can someone get a boot of it/send me the link to it? Pleeeeease? 

No. Seriously, stop asking about this. Stop joking about this. It’s not online, and never will be. All of the recordings are on digital media (videodiscs or DvDs) in the basement and only library staff get to touch them. Don’t be the person who tried to do this and ruins the archive for everyone else. You can’t even bring electronic devices into the room.

4. Why won’t they release it to the public? And who the heck does it benefit to keep this locked away?

It isn’t. It was locked away when the show was actually running. It is available to the public. We are the public! We have library cards and went to a public library and watched it for $0! It’s owned by the library so the public can see it! At the library! 

The availability of us to access it now that the show has closed is what constitutes public release. There were several other phans, members of the public there to see it after us, and the library allowed them to max out the number of monitors the library allows people to view on. They had a later appointment and were watching disc one when we were on disc two. I’m sure there was someone after them too. Were we all wearing Phantom gear? Also yes. 

(@or-what-you-will here) The library is not allowed to show recordings of anything currently running on Broadway, presumably because of fears about economic loss from those who own the rights to the musicals. The library does not own the rights to the musicals in the archive, and there are likely a lot of stipulations the library has to follow to be able to have recordings like this. 

As someone who works in a library doing digitization work, libraries and the media they contain are very complicated. TOFT likely has the rights to show it under a very limited license, and to make copies for preservation purposes only, but things like this mean they would not be able to do anything like put it online or charge for it or do anything that would be them acting as though they owned the copyright (as opposed to the physical media). This is why when a library or archive has a book or tapes they don’t usually have the right to photocopy the entire book or digitize the entire tape and put it online (unless it is in public domain), however, if you go in person you can see it all you want. Someone else (usually the creator) owns the right to distribute or copy, and libraries and archives can get in a lot of trouble for violating it. 

The copyright is still owned by the holders of each respective musical’s copyright. It’s essentially like when you buy a DVD and you are technically not supposed to copy that DVD but you can invite your friends over to watch it at your house. Copying it and distributing it violates copyright. Putting it online violates copyright. If the library violated copyright it would likely lose the ability to archive musicals altogether. If you copied the DVD it would be a lot harder to find out who put it up because the DVD is owned by lots of people, though you could still be prosecuted by the law. If the library did, they would know immediately who did it because they are presumably the only ones with a copy of this recording. 

Likewise if someone took a bootleg recording of a show and distributed it, the copyright holders wouldn’t know it existed. If they found out that individual would then be eligible to be prosecuted under the law. Because the library is a public institution, if they were found out to be doing this, it would be the library itself that would get in trouble and it would damage their reputation, their funding, and quite possibly the funding and reputation of libraries around the world. A lot of this is done on trust. The copyright holders trust the library as a public institution and the library has a lot more stakes in the game than a single person recording the show and distributing it.

It’s a very tenuous agreement at times, and likely the library is only allowed to even record because there are so many protections in place and they have a history of enforcing these rules. These agreements also usually cover digitization and preservation, but again, violating them could have those abilities taken away as well. It’s all tied up in copyright law and the library has no control over that. I have talked to archivists where I live who have to record performances with tape over the lens because it’s considered for preservation and they want to make sure it cannot be possible to profit off of it in any way. 

When the show goes into public domain they will be able to put it online all they want without fear of repercussions, but until then, unless those agreements change, we are all limited by the whim of the copyright holders.

5. Hello! Is the pro shot you watched what this clip is from https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cp2_80CJqI3/?igsh=MWNja2wwYWw4OHUwbw== ?

I know all of us here on Tumblr were freaking out that they maybe had a copy of the pro shot when this came out. Thank you! (@imstillhere-butallislost)

Not the proshot, it's a press reel. It has its own cool story though! Answered this here.

6. How good of a shot was it? I know you said ProShot but is it a ProShot like Hamilton or just a camera recording the whole stage at once?

I’d definitely say it was Hamilton pro-shot quality as to what was available at the time between image quality and mixing up of close ups and wide shots. I’ve watched other proshots and many just park a camera in the back of the orchestra and call it good. Cats in particular had multiple cameras but just did close-ups when they felt like it, not when it made sense or added anything. As @or-what-you-will explained in their re-blog, Phantom was one of the first proshots where they had a soundboard plug in, and let me tell you, with the exception of a few moments in Act 1 where Sarah Brightman maxes out her mic, the sound was delicious. Have we talked about how Judy Kaye is singing over the overture (yes, that’s Judy Kaye, original Carlotta, warming up!)? Or that you can hear every single word of Notes I and Prima Donna and Notes II, which usually just sounds garbled because everyone is singing over one another? Actually hearing words that I sort of know exist changed my experience of the show for me. 

7. How did the tempo seem, compared to the pace of the show at the end of its run? I saw the show a few times in the last few years, and the music seemed significantly faster in person than it sounded on the London cast recording. I’ve always wondered if that was just a difference between the London and NY productions, or if the tempo just sped up over the years.

Uh…normal pace??? I’ve watched a lot of boots and most solidly clock in 2:15 of run time. This was no different. There are definitely some that run a little faster. London during Earl Carpenter’s 2023 run was notorious as he had to catch a train. It does seem to have settled back out. I will say, the music does always feel more intense in person because the whole place just vibrates. 

8. I'm curious about the comment about the Ratcatcher? I think I remember that character from a film adaptation, but was he ever in the ALW musical? (@lord-valery-mimes)

Yes, Ratcatcher is still in the musical, even now. It’s a blink or you miss it type of moment. If you hear a thud and a scream right before Madame Giry tells Raoul “He lives across the Lake, Monsieur”, the thud is the ratcatcher running across the travelator.

9. Does Christine really recognize the Phantom in PONR from his boner? 

No, but at this point she probably already know it’s him and has been trying to get through the scene, but definitely acts surprised because, well, that’s surprising. But it’s definitely the moment where the Vibes Are Officially Off. 

10. Can Sarah Brightman act? 

Yes! All three of the trio have far more nuanced performances on stage. Sarah doesn’t act the way that we do see many later Christines (including late 80s and early 90s Christines), but she absolutely created the blueprint for the role. Her “Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again” is missing some soul, but at the end of the day she was one of a kind, and she made some very strong acting choices. 

11. there anything unexpected? Any interpretation that stood out to you and particularly striking but didn’t stick around as others took on the roles and put their own spin on things?

Guys, I want to talk about Steve Barton as Raoul. The man made choice, after choice, after choice. And yet we have had so many Raoul’s that are kind of just strutting about looking pretty. Some seem to even forget they’re onstage during Final Lair. It can be such a juicy role if the actors choose to make it that way but so few do. 

Besides some small details I mentioned, the show did maintain its integrity through its 35 year run, which is truly remarkable. 

(@or-what-you-will here) Seconding what Flag said, Steve Barton brought so much more to the role than I’m used to seeing, and it really opened my mind to what Raoul could be. 

The blocking in PONR did surprise me, I knew they had changed it but I hadn’t realized how much. I always found the kind of pinwheeling arm thing Christine does with the phantom strange, so it was a pleasant surprise to find that they didn’t do that at all, the embrace from behind made more sense to me.

I also found after she took his hood off no one really ran out, the phantom and Christine got to have their moment. The blocking where they (the managers and Raoul) run out and tell Christine to stay makes no sense with their motivations to stop him. The more recent blocking where Christine motions them to stay in place as the phantom sings the All I Ask of You Reprise makes way more sense with the characters’ motives and matches this original blocking much more. 

12. Also are you truly working on a research project? If so, how is progress and where might we find your final results when it’s complete?

To quote Dr. Who, “Spoilers.” Yes, always. Both of us have day jobs that have us doing research, but I can’t promise I’ll put it on here when complete since I keep fandom and real life separate. Sorry to dodge this one but getting into specifics about this starts to identify us. 

(@or-what-you-will here) Seconding what Flag said. 

13. Hi there, I was wondering if I could ask you a general question about the NPL’s archive. Something about the language on their website made it sound like viewers could only watch a recording “once”. I wasn’t sure if that meant “once per visit” (i.e. you can’t sit there for 8 hours restarting the tape every time it ends) or “once” as in forever (like, once you’ve watched a recording you are never allowed to request it again). Did you have any clarification? I wasn't sure if the librarians explain the policies when you arrive at your appointment. Thank you for providing so many details about the Phantom pro-shot and offering to answer our questions! That's really kind of you!

You’re welcome! So if there’s nobody after you, you can hang out with the media as long as you want. However, we did have another group come in about 90 minutes after us. That gave us enough time to watch both acts with all the rewinds we wanted. We watched PONR and parts of Final Lair like five times. On a previous TOFT trip I watched two shows and was there for like six hours.  The prohibition is on coming back and watching the recording again. I have no idea how strict they are about this, although I suspect it’s to keep people from monopolizing certain media. Would I want to try to watch the proshot again in the future? Probably! I know there’s stuff I missed, or I’d see something different depending on what I’m working on. The TOFT is also an absolutely incredible resource and I have so many other shows I’d like to check out. 

(Will here) They do log on your library account when you visit that you visited and what you saw. However, if you have accessibility needs that would require you to watch in multiple viewings or something along those lines, I would talk to them about it, because I’m sure they’d be able to work with you to figure out something so you wouldn’t have to sit through the whole thing in one shot.

14. > Barton Raoul’s “There is no Phantom of the Opera” comes off more as “Christine this is just some dude” vs “he doesn’t exist at all.” 

Could you elaborate on this part? I'm having trouble imagining how that would be conveyed. (also, thanks for sharing your notes on the procast!) @clutzyangel

You're welcome! Yes, he's telling Christine that the Phantom is a human, flesh-and-blood man, not some fantastical creature. I've seen many Raouls who seem to try to convince Christine that the Phantom doesn't exist at all. Barton's Raoul seems to understand that he's a man with ulterior motives possibly duping Christine.

And he's not wrong.

[diangelofan]

An Unexpected Friendship

I guess most people in this fandom wouldn't probably celebrate Percy Weasley's birthday, but I really like him (despite being such a stick in the mud sometimes). So (belatedly) here's some Percy and Oliver friendship!

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

September 1st, 1987

“Are you sure you don’t want to sit with us on the train ride to Hogwarts?” “Yeah, Perce, it’ll be fun! We’ll introduce you to our mates!”, Bill and Charlie Weasley stared back at their younger brother expectantly.

“I am sure. I wanted to get up to speed with my reading”, Percy raised his arms to show his heavy volume of Hogwarts: A History, “I would like to have finished it by the time we arrive at the castle.”

Maybe he should have gone with his brothers’ proposition. They, being the popular and “cool” older brothers they were, would probably never ask him to sit with them again. His two younger brothers, twins Fred and George, always made fun of him for being “such a huge bore” (thank Merlin, there were still two years before they came to Hogwarts as well; Percy shuddered just thinking about all the trouble those two would get into).

But he hadn’t lie when he said he wanted to finished his book. He had stopped at the chapter dedicated to the Ghosts of Hogwarts and it was quite fascinating…

“Okay, Perce. Enjoy the ride!” “Yeah, who knows, maybe you’ll make some friends of your own!” And with those words, Percy’s older brothers closed the door of his compartment closed, waving as they went. Percy waited till he could no longer hear their loud footsteps and voices before submerging himself in his reading.

Friends, sure, I’ll make some, Percy thought bitterly. He had never been able to form a friendship with the twins, who were the closest to his age (Molly homeschooled all her kids, so he had never spent much time with children his age), and, instead they always found something to mock him about. But, sure, maybe he would make friends.

The pass of time became irrelevant, as Percy sat and read for what could have been many minutes or hours. He had long since finished the Ghost Chapter and was nearing the end of a chapter titled The Chamber of Secrets (probably all just some legend, but interesting nevertheless), when he heard a knock on the door, followed by a small head peeking into his compartment.

“I am sorry, but all the other compartments I’ve been to were full. Could I sit here?” The other boy was also wearing plain black robes, like Percy, meaning he was another first year. Percy would have preferred to stay alone for the ride, but it seemed too mean to just deny the other first-year boy’s request when his compartment had more than enough space for the two of them.

“Okay. However, I am reading, so if you could please remain silent, it would be highly appreciated.” There you go with the “pompous” vocabulary, thought Percy, now the boy is going to look at you weirdly. It had happened before during dinner time. Percy would make a comment on the topic of conversation and he would only received confused glances back. A consequence of reading too many classic novels, textbooks and dictionaries, probably… oh well…

To the red haired boy’s surprise, the other boy just nodded and smiled, taking a book from his satchel: “That’s fine. It gives me the chance to reread my favourite book Quidditch Through the Ages for the second time today.”

And thus, the two boys spent most of the train ride in this manner, sitting quietly beside each other while reading their respective books. It was quite enjoyable, in Percy’s opinion.

It must have been a couple hours later when Percy’s reading was interrupting again (he was just one chapter short of finishing) by a tiny cough and a nervous voice stating: “I finished my book… It was quite interesting! Even though, I’ve read it almost like a million times before, I always get so surprised when reading about the origins Quidditch and how it all started! It’s truly fascinating…! I love-! …Sorry, I realize I am rambling like a fool… I just wanted to introduce myself: I am Oliver Wood and I am first year, which I think you are as well… right?”

Oliver’s face had quickly passed through different emotions during his small speech: from nervousness, to excitement, to joy, to embarrassment, and then back to being nervous. While Percy’s first idea had been to quickly answer with his name and continue reading quietly, something in the other’s boys words had really resonated with him. That excitement which what he read had incited in him, as well as the embarrassment when realizing he was rambling about a very niche and bookish topic, was something that Percy had experienced a couple of times before. He knew how it felt to have his “boring” interests dismissed (even if that had not being the person’s intention at all) and he refused to do it to somebody else if he could help it. Afterall, he could read the remaining chapter before going to bed that night.

Thus, he closed his book and smiled, answering the other boy’s question: “Nice to meet you, Oliver. My name is Percy Weasley and, yes, I am also a first year.”

“Oh, great! Finally someone I can commiserate with! I am sooooo nervous about Hogwarts… though it’s also all really exciting!”, exclaimed Oliver.

And that’s how the two boys spent the rest of their ride to their new school. They talked about their families (Percy going into a rant about the troubles the twins could get into with their little pranks, while Oliver told him how his parents had spent weeks telling him stories about their time at Hogwarts in anticipation for the event), what house they would be in (both mentioned that it was very probable it would be Gryffindor as that was where most of their family members had ended up in), and the things that most excited them about Hogwarts (for Percy, it was learning about magic in all those new different ways, while for Oliver, as the huge Quidditch enthusiast he seemed to be, it was watching and, starting in his second year hopefully, playing at the Interhouse Quidditch Cup).

Percy didn’t know Oliver’s opinion, but when both boys got together into one of the little boats that would transport them to the castle, the red-haired boy thought to himself: Well, this seems like the start of an unexpected friendship. Maybe his brothers had been right, after all, and he had nothing to worry about in the friends department. Yeah, just maybe…

[maddiethedogstories]

Sarah's Playground - 7

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

The wine bottles were exciting to me. As the sheltered girl I was, I had never even considered drinking before I was 21. The idea of getting to do something so adult with Lidia, the older woman who had made it her life's goal up to this point to treat me as her living baby doll, was enthralling. I remembered distinctly thinking to myself that this could be a turning point in Lidia and my relationship. Maybe I could be cool just like her?

I shuddered while still suckling at my mother's tit as I relived this new memory and realized how wrong and naive I was.

It didn't take Lidia long to find my Mom's wine glasses at all. She quickly went to the kitchen, put the bottles of wine down, and opened the precise cabinet where the glasses were located. I shot her a confused look. How did she know where those glasses were?

Lidia caught my look. As she reached into a drawer and pulled out a corkscrew, she responded to my unspoken question.

"Baby, don't look so confused. I've drank here dozens of times. What do you think I did after I tucked you in for an early bedtime?"

That made a lot of sense and eased my concerns a little.

"Oh, good," I said nervously, watching as Lidia pour two large glasses of white wine, "I don't think I should drink though. If Mom found out, she'd demote me back to third grade!"

Lidia smiled at me in response.

"Oh, don't be a spoil sport, it's your birthday weekend and you deserve to have some fun, right? I promise I won't tell your mom. I've never told her about our other secrets, right?"

I blushed at being reminded of the numerous weekends I'd spent with Lidia crawling around in a soiled diaper.

"No, you're right. You really promise you'll keep this a secret?" I asked hopefully.

"Of course!" Lidia said, handing me a glass.

I felt reassured. So, without hesitation, I took a big drink from the wine glass. I then immediately spat it out. It didn't taste like juice at all. Lidia laughed uproariously.

"Sweetie! You've gotta take it easy! It looks like juice, but doesn't taste like it. Why don't you try again, but just take a sip?" Lidia offered.

I obliged. I took a sip of the wine and made a face. This time, though I was able to swallow it.

"Great, now, how about we get some jammies on? I'll order a pizza and pop some popcorn, and we can have a Rom Com movie marathon?" Lidia offered.

That sounded wonderful to me. After years of being forced to watch Disney movies while suckling from a bottle with Lidia, the idea of drinking wine and watching romantic comedies with her felt almost too good to be true.

The rest of the night went excellently. I switched into my most comfortable pajamas and spent the night lounging on the couch and bonding with Lidia, who, for the first time in my life, was treating me as an equal rather than some stupid little toddler.

As I drank more wine, I started to get used to the taste. My head got fuzzy and my inhibitions dropped with each sip. I suddenly saw the draw of drinking. By the time 2 AM hit, Lidia and I had finished both bottles of wine and I was feeling pretty good. When I stood up though, I couldn't walk straight. Lidia giggled.

"Oh, sweetheart, you are wasted! Let me help you to bed!" Lidia said as she stood up, grabbed me by the shoulders, and guided me to my bedroom.

I smiled stupidly. Drunk and happy with my new found friendship with Lidia.

"Lidia, you know you are the... uh... best, right?" I slurred drunkenly.

Lidia laughed, "Yes, sweetheart, I do. Now let's get your drunk little butt to bed!"

I laid down in bed as Lidia directed, and, probably mostly out of habit, let Lidia tuck me in.

"Goodnight, Sarah," Lidia said as she closed the door to my room.

"Goodnight Lidy," I said as I closed my eyes, feeling the world spin around me.

I couldn't help but smile as I fell asleep. This was the perfect way to celebrate becoming an adult.

The next morning did not go nearly as well.

"Oh my god, Sarah! You said you haven't wet the bed since you were 13? You naughty little liar!" Lidia's voice woke me up.

"What? Yeah? I don't wet the bed anymore," I groaned, sitting up and feeling an uncomfortable cool wetness around my groin.

"That is not what your bed and pajamas say Little Missy!" Lidia said, throwing the sheets off of me and exposing my shame. She immediately pulled out her phone and took a picture.

"You know I have to tell your Mommy about this right? This is NOT the behavior of a real adult!" Lidia said.

"Please, don't! I thought we were friends?! This really wasn't even my fault, it had to be the wine!" I pleaded.

"Baby, you know if your Mommy finds out about this, and I didn't tell her, I could get demoted for being immature too. I have to tell her. Also, you are not going to complain about this anymore. If you do, I am going to tell your Mommy that you stole wine for me and your demotion will be MUCH worse," Lidia said.

"You... you wouldn't..." I stammered.

"I would, now, be a good girl and tell your Mommy about your accident," Lidia says, pressing the call button on her phone and handing it to me.

I almost wet my bed again right there out of fear of how my Mom was going to react.

NEXT CHAPTER

[philaet0s]

Celebrity/Social Media AU - Part 8

Previous Part: Part 7

Next Part: Part 9

More written POVs! There will be one more and then back to the fake twitter updates aha

‼️ mature content ‼️

Simon

Baz said he had a “surprise for me for my birthday.” I would say that the presents –plural–, lunch in my favourite restaurant in the city, afternoon tea at the Ritz –I don’t like when Baz makes me spend the night here, but god, do I love the food and tea–, and the two hours we spent wrapped around each other on the couch during which he read to me were already more than enough, but it seems he has something else in mind. And it’s something we’re doing outside the house!

It’s actually kind of rare for us to do that. Leave our place. We go to the restaurant once in a while, but that’s all. It gets messy, Baz gets recognised, and we both prefer staying inside anyway. I only like being outside if I can run around in a large field like an overexcited puppy, and that’s hard to do in central London.

We go to his recording studio. Uh?

I follow him, my mind reeling with ideas. It’s rare for him to take me here. It’s only happened a handful of times since we’ve been together. That’s his workplace; I don’t make a habit of taking him to the kitchen of my bakery either.

I don’t even question the fact that it’s 1 in the morning and the studio has been closed for hours. I suppose when your family owns it, you can come whenever, though I already know he’s going to get a text from Fiona in the morning when she finds out the alarm was deactivated in the middle of the night.

He sits in the chair in front of the computer and searches for a specific file. He hasn’t told me what I should be doing, but I suppose if we’re here, we’re going to be listening to music, so I come and stand behind him. The sound is better here than when you’re sitting on the couches by the wall, or so Baz said last time we came. (His musicians were there too last time, though. It was a proper album listening party. We had food and drinks, it was great.)

“There you go,” he says, as he clicks on an audio file. He pauses it before I can hear the first note. “I wrote this for you. I recorded it before I went on tour. I’m… very excited for you to hear it.”

My face splits in a grin. Oh, how much I love the songs he writes for me…

I lean down and kiss his cheek, which is a little pink. He’s so cute.

He pushes the chair away from the table, forcing me to step aside. Then, he pats his thigh. “C’mere, will you.”

Gladly.

I sit on his lap, and he closes his arms around my waist. He has to fully extend his arm to be able to click play.

Music immediately fills the room. It’s not the gentle kind of production I was expecting. Baz’s songs for me –the ones he makes just for me, not all the songs he writes about me– are often ballads. He’s romantic like that.

Not this one.

That’s something that could be played at a club. Or one of his concerts. It’s unusual, but I like it.

The lyrics are less surprising than the production. They’re brilliant, his lyrics are always brilliant, and convey a perfect blend of love and lust, though the rasp in his voice definitely emphasises the lust part.

So does his hand on my thigh. He’s tapping the rhythm of the song. It’s a very innocent touch. It’s driving me insane.

When the music stops, I clear my throat and try to collect myself. (It’s hard. I’m sitting on him for fuck’s sake.)

“It was very good.”

“Very good? That’s all?”

His finger is doing a lot more than just tapping my thigh. He slid his hand down, his entire palm cupping the inside of my thigh. He moves it up and down absentmindedly.

His index finger is now dangerously close to my crotch. Not close enough.

I swallow. I feel like a teenager, but can I really be blamed? It’s been a while. And he’s so… And the song was…

“I… I liked the… lyrics.”

“Yes? Anything else?”

He slides his hand up. He’s properly touching me now. I don’t even have enough clarity to be embarrassed that I’m already rock hard. “The chorus. It’s… memorable.”

He unbuttons my jeans. His lips are on my neck. “Y– Your voice. I like how… how much deeper it… fuck…” His hand is cold. “...sounds. During the chorus.”

He hums, and that could honestly finish me off.

“You like my voice deeper?” he asks. In that deeper voice. As he strokes my cock.

Goddammit.

He nips at my neck. “I have an idea. Come with me.”

And just like that, he takes his hand out of my pants. I might just explode.

“Baz.”

I see him press a few buttons before he takes my hand.

“Come with me,” he repeats.

He’s walking up to the door that leads to the other side of the studio, behind the glass panel.

I have no clue what he has in mind, but what choice do I have but to follow him?

He promptly presses me against that stupid glass panel and crashes his lips against mine. That’s better.

—————————

You guessed it, the next part will be smut

I’m posting it later today!

[writingamongther0ses]

AITA for "Enabling" My Wife

I (50M) married my childhood sweetheart when we were 20 and soon had our only child Ella(22F). Unfortunately, CS died when Ella was 10, leaving us heartbroken and Ella without a mother. When Ella was 13, I married New Wife. NW isn't as pretty as CS, but she is rich and intelligent and has two daughters: Anya(20F) and Draya(23F). She was a little cold to Ella, who has always been CS's twin, and much prettier than Anya and Draya. I assumed that they would just need time to get to know each other.

Anya and Ella thankfully hit it off fast, thanks to a shared interest in gardening and butterflies. NW and Draya were at least polite to Ella, but she kept telling me that they would say nasty things to her when I wasn't around. When I asked, NW explained that Ella probably just got confused due to their accents and the adjustment period. If this is need to know, Ella and Anya are both extroverts, and NW and Draya are both introverts.

Ella never backed down, however, and it got worse when she was 15. Before her 16th birthday, both NW and I suffered financial losses. It wasn't bad that we lost my childhood home, but we couldn't keep our staff and needed to cut down on certain things. We assured the girls that it wouldn't last and that we would just need to work together to manage things until we could hire staff again.

Things soon recovered, but we never got around to hiring staff. Instead, NW insisted on getting new clothes and beauty routines for Anya and Draya. She said that all three girls were approaching marriage age and that her daughters needed the help. I agreed.

Ella protested, however, claiming that she was doing all the housework and cooking. She didn't even have her room back, since some rooms needed to be closed off for heating. NW said that it was fine and it would be good for character growth. I tried to calm Ella down by pointing out how her spouse would be so impressed that she could do everything.

Ella stopped talking to me until last year. Last year, the prince of our kingdom came with Ella to explain that they were engaged. Apparently, Ella snuck out to a local festival that she couldn't attend because she didn't have anything to wear, and they got to talking. The prince apparently even started hanging around the market so he could meet and talk with her.

I was ecstatic until Ella informed me that she was moving out and that we weren't invited to the wedding. Only Anya was invited as a bridesmaid. I was horrified- I always imagined walking Ella down the aisle, having a father-daughter dance, celebrating with her. When I asked why, she told me that I was an enabler of my wife. That I had turned a blind eye to her abuse of her because I didn't want to "rock the boat". When I tried to protest, her fiance spoke up and said that Ella hadn't even understood she was being abused and it took him gently pointing things out for her to realize. So he didn't expect me to understand either, but I had still done nothing.

He didn't let me speak to Ella while the two of them moved her stuff out, which barely took an hour with the both of them. Ella did give Anya her number and assured her that the palace would be safe for her.

Her wedding is in three days, and Anya has moved out after an argument with NW, where she said the same things about me and detailed how she felt NW failed her: from trying to force her to loose weight even though the doctor said she was fine to purposefully destroying her weed garden. She is now living with Ella as her lady-in-waiting from what I understand.

I know there are ways I failed Ella. I should've given her more attention, tried to talk to her more. But I don't think I "enabled" my wife to such a degree that she feels right to cut me off.

What should I do? How can I reach out?

[shesasurvivor]

May 8 (2023 Update) [fic]

Every year I have a hard believing it's already been a full year since my last update to this fic, but it feels especially so this way. I've learned a lot of lessons over this last year, including how to open my heart and let someone in... and that sometimes, you have to get over yourself and communicate what you want from someone! All that influenced the contents of this year's entry to my annual fic celebrating Katniss's birthday.

Credit also goes to @rosegardeninwinter for providing inspiration for this fic by asking whether or not Katniss or Peeta would be the one to propose. This was my solution.

Read on AO3.

--

"Do you think Peeta will finally propose?"

Johanna's question catches me off guard. "Propose?" I repeat, only too aware that I know exactly what she means and I'm only trying to buy more time while I process her question. And my response.

"Yeah, dummy. You two have been together for years now. Don't tell me you think one of you might think there's someone else out there for you. You two are so in love and perfect for each other, it's gross."

The question makes me feel uneasy. Because I'm mid-conversation, I don't have the additional resources at the moment to examine why. I'm just grateful this is over the phone, and Johanna can't see my reaction for herself. I'm transported back to those moments in the cave, years ago, when I wanted to close the curtains to keep prying minds out of my personal business.

"Oh. I don't know," I give what I hope is a convincing light laugh. "What do we need to get married for, anyways?"

There's a beat in which I sense Johanna may be conceding I actually have a point. "You District 12 types always seemed so traditional, I just assumed you would want to," she finally says. "It doesn't matter to me either way."

A silent sense of relief washes over me as I realize she isn't going to press me any further. I try to think up an adequate response, but she changes the subject before I even have a chance to do so.

"So what's Peeta making for your birthday?"

Another question I'm unprepared to answer, but at least this one isn't as loaded as the first. I give her an answer that I barely register, and after some small talk about my birthday plans, she moves on to some story about something in her own district.

I'm still thinking about the conversation hours later. Johanna's question really dug under my skin. Why, I couldn't tell you. Not the one about my birthday; that's never been something I've made a big show of. It's the question of whether or not Peeta will propose.

Since the war ended, Peeta and I have basically been left alone by the Capitol, the press, and everyone but our remaining loved ones. For this, I couldn't be more grateful. It allowed Peeta and me to grow back together and pick up the maimed pieces of our fractured relationship so we could knot them back together. It was something we could only have done in privacy, and it was sorely needed. I'm still grateful that everyone left that part of us alone when we needed it most.

But maybe in the privacy, we grew too complacent? Would marriage be the next step? Is it supposed to be?

District 12 has always been one of the more traditional districts in Panem. Old-fashioned, some have even called us. Maybe we are, though things have changed since the district borders opened to others. I had never planned to marry when I was a kid. But there was no denying it was considered the natural culmination for anyone in a romantic relationship at the time.

I ruminate over it as I prepare dinner for us that night. Should Peeta be proposing? The more I think about it, the more confused I become. Maybe he should propose. Maybe it's something he should have done already. Why hasn't he?

My stomach drops at the thought. Is there a reason he hasn't proposed? No. I shake my head slightly to clear it. Of course not. Peeta and I have a great relationship now, even if it started out so rocky. Everything is so peaceful between us now, marriage isn't even necessary.

Right?

He comes home and kisses me on the cheek in greeting, just as he always does. "How was your day?" he asks me.

"Fine," I say, trying to sound as normal as possible. But am I imagining the peevish edge in my tone? Maybe, because Peeta doesn't seem to show any sign of noticing it. I ask about his day in return and learn it was fine as well. Then we sit down and enjoy our dinner together.

I was right, I think to myself as I relax while we eat. This is easy. Peaceful. There's nothing wrong with us. Not anymore. This is what I want forever.

My eyes fall on my parents' wedding picture, which I have nestled on a shelf I can see from the doorway to the kitchen. They wanted forever, too. Look what happened when they made it official.

You're just scared, a voice says in my head. There's no doubt it's the influence of my old head doctor, Dr. Aurelius. This was the kind of thing he would help me with back when Peeta and I were still trying to find our way back to each other. Honestly, I probably wouldn't have what I have with Peeta today if I hadn't had Dr. Aurelius's help. That doesn't make it any less annoying having his advice haunt me now.

"What do you want to do for your birthday? Peeta's words cut through my thoughts. It's jarring, being torn from this new conundrum, but I'm grateful for the distraction. Even if I don't have a suitable answer to his question.

"I don't know," I say with a shrug. I've never been one to celebrate my birthday much, even back before I was reaped and my family was still around. Peeta has made a few more efforts over the years, refusing to let me forget the day entirely. According to him, we should celebrate that we've been given the chance to celebrate them at all. I'm not saying he's wrong. But they've never felt the same since the war.

Peeta lifts a brow. "I guess I'll just have to surprise you, then," he says with a mischievous glint.

For some reason, I'm back to thinking about the proposal thing again. I know it's common for marriage proposals to happen around special events, like holidays. Or birthdays. In the Capitol, they even like to make a big deal about them, putting on lavish events for when they pop the question. Things are a lot more simple in District 12, but even here they were considered a special occasion.

We're three days from my birthday. And over the course of the ensuing three days, it seems I'm hit by a barrage of weddings and proposals. Some famous person from the Capitol gets proposed to on the news program the next night. One of the workers at Peeta's bakery takes time to attend his sister's wedding. But the real kicker comes when Delly arrives the day before my birthday to announce she and Thom are getting married.

"That's great, Delly!" Peeta seems genuinely thrilled for her. "Congratulations!"

"I know! Isn't it just the greatest?" she gushes, holding out her hand to show off the modest engagement ring Thom had bestowed on her. "I've been waiting for Thom to propose, and he finally did! Oh, I can't wait to tell my brother." Delly launches into an explanation of all her plans to tell people, and what she wants to do for the celebration. "It'll be a traditional District 12 ceremony, of course, with a toasting and everything," she says.

Peeta smiles. "I'll make the bread."

Delly's face lights up. "Oh, thank you, Peeta! I was hoping you would!"

I do my best to seem as excited for Delly's pending nuptials as she and Peeta both are. But I can't help the sinking feeling that settles in me. With the lively conversation around me, though, I don't really have a chance to examine what exactly it is.

"Well, Katniss and I both are really happy for you. Right, Katniss?" Peeta says the last part in such a pointed way, I realize I must be coming across as rude. I realize I haven't said too much tonight.

"Yes, of course!" I say, forcing myself to give a big grin. Just to make up for things, I even lean in and give her a hug.

"Thank you, Katniss!" If Delly had noticed anything about my behavior, she does a good job of hiding it. "Well, I should be getting back. I still need to fix our dinner for tonight!"

We both walk her to the door and bid our farewells. As soon as the door closes behind her, Peeta turns on me. "What was that?" he asks.

"What do you mean?" It doesn't sound at all convincing. I usually can't hide my moods from Peeta, not after we've been together for so long. But I haven't even had a chance to figure out for myself what's bothering me.

"Delly just announced some big news. And you barely acknowledged it at all. Except for that hug at the end." Peeta makes a face that shows he could tell that hug was an act. He's gotten good at spotting them over the years.

"I don't know," I say, shrugging and turning away from him.

"It's a big deal," he says. "It should be celebrated."

I wouldn't know, I think to myself. And that's when I figure out what it is that's bothering me. I excuse myself because I need some time to work through these feelings on my own. Peeta also knows me well enough by now to know when to give me space. But I can tell he's feeling a little annoyed right now.

Join the club.

The issue doesn’t come up again for the rest of the night, though there’s a chill in the air between us. We still share our bed that night, but there are no kisses before the lights go out. There definitely isn’t anything else.

Despite all this, Peeta is awake before I am the next morning. I find him puttering around the kitchen when I go down. He turns when he hears me coming, flashes a brow as if to say he’s not sure how he should act, or how I’m feeling. “Happy birthday.” Even with the greeting, I sense the apprehension in his voice.

The sight of him cooking breakfast for me on my birthday makes me feel guilty for how I acted last night. I still haven’t figured out what was bothering me. Maybe it was just pre-birthday jitters. Either way, I decide to let it go.

“Thanks,” I offer him a smile. He visibly relaxes at the sight of it. “I made breakfast,” he continues. “Lots of cheese buns.”

I melt a little. Even after all these years, he knows I still love his cheese buns and he still makes them, especially for me. I cross over and kiss him. “Thank you,” I say. I sit down at the table and let him serve me breakfast.

My birthdays are usually quiet, and this year has been no different. Peeta took the day off at the bakery so he could spend time with me. I’d just as soon forget about it, and pretend it’s any other day. He’s the opposite and thinks we should savor every birthday we’ve been given. I can’t resist letting him do so, and so my birthdays usually have some sort of celebration anyways.

Today, it’s a small birthday dinner with our friends still in District 12. I field phone calls from my mother, Annie, Johanna, and even Effie beforehand. With that out of the way, we sit down for our meal, followed by the cake Peeta made for me.

“Great cake,” Thom says as he shovels another piece into his mouth.

“Peeta always made the best cakes, even when we were kids,” Delly tells him. “He has to make the cake for our wedding, too.”

Peeta smiles. “Of course. I’d be happy to, Delly.”

Just like that, the feeling from last night returns.

It’s normal for me to be quieter than everyone else. It always has been. But tonight, I must seem quieter than usual, because, after about 15 minutes of wedding chatter, Haymitch speaks up.

“You should probably change the subject because Birthday Girl here doesn’t look all that thrilled with the subject,” he slurs. He’s already several bottles in and inspecting the bottom of his current bottle, so he doesn’t notice the way everyone turns to look at me. Or the way his comment only puts me in a worse mood.

An awkward silence falls over the group since no one knows what to say. I try to avoid looking at any of them, but I can’t help meeting Peeta’s eyes and seeing his own frustration reflecting back from them. It makes me feel defensive, so I avert my eyes before I say something I’ll regret out loud. Probably I should say something to the group, or apologize, but no words come out. I’ve never been very good at this stuff. And alright, maybe I don’t feel like I should even have to say something in the first place.

“Katniss, I’m so sorry,” Delly finally says. “Here it’s your birthday, and I’m taking all the spotlight!”

“It’s fine,” I mumble.

“No, it’s your birthday! Tonight it’s about you.” A murmur of agreement echoes through the group, and slowly the conversation starts again. But not for long. After another half-hour, Delly and Thom make up an excuse to leave. Greasy Sae follows suit, and when Haymitch sees everyone else is leaving, he does as well.

Despite my mood, or maybe because of it, I follow them to the door and bid them goodnight. Once the door is closed, Peeta turns on me. He’s clearly aggravated now, but I can see he’s trying to hold it back since it’s my birthday and all.

“Alright,” he says. “What is it? What’s bothering you so much?”

“I don’t know!” I say, more forcefully than I mean to.

“Yes you do,” he counters. “Why else would you keep throwing a fit every time Delly brings up her wedding?”

“Why do you care so much about her wedding? Is it because you want to marry her?”

Peeta just stands there, gaping in shock. He’s too taken aback to know what to say. To be honest, so am I, because I hadn’t expected to say that. I’m not even sure I knew I was thinking it. But now that it’s out, there’s no taking it back, and now I feel like I have to defend myself.”

“Of course not!” Peeta finally sputters. “Why would you think that?”

“Well, you’re sure obsessed with a wedding for someone who doesn’t want one!” I turn before I get to see his reaction and march out of the room.

I need out of the house. It’s too stuffy in here. I need to be outside where I can see the stars and the moon. My legs carry me to the back porch and immediately feel some relief when I’m alone. I pause, take a deep breath, then settle down on the edge of the porch with my legs dangling over the side while I ponder the darkness that stretches out in front of me.

Is that what’s bothering me? No, I know Peeta doesn’t want to marry Delly. He’s had plenty of chances in his life. He would have done it long ago if there were any interest there. They’re like siblings. And Peeta loves me. We have a bond no one else could replicate, after everything we’ve been through together.

So why doesn’t he want to make it permanent? A shiver courses through me as I realize I’ve struck the heart of the issue. It’s not that I think Peeta wants to marry someone else. It’s because he doesn’t make any effort to marry me.

I guess Johanna’s words really did get the better of me. I never cared about this kind of thing before. I never wanted to get married. Of course, I also never wanted to fall in love either and look how that changed. Would marriage be so bad? My parents did it. So did his. And the toasting ceremony is so inherent in District 12’s customs, maybe a small part of me really would like to participate in one.

Heavy footsteps come up from behind me; Peeta stops when he reaches me. “Can I sit down?” he asks. I nod, and he settles in beside me. For a long while, we both stare into the night in silence.

“I’m sorry,” Peeta says at last. I turn to look at him, surprised. “Delly is right. It’s your birthday.”

I’m taken aback, so all I manage to do is tell him it’s okay. Besides, I’m not even sure how to broach the subject with him.

Finally, he reaches over and closes my hand in his. The warm steadiness his hand brings is immediately soothing, and I feel myself begin to relax. Whatever comes next, it won’t be an argument at least. “What’s bothering you?”

I look at him, and the words nearly come out. I catch myself just in time and look back to my patch of blackness across the yard. I’m relieved I stopped myself from saying anything. And then the words come out anyway. “Why don’t you ask me to marry you?”

Peeta freezes. It’s so abrupt, that I’m almost afraid I’ve triggered one of his episodes somehow, and immediately kick myself for bringing it up. Panic rising in me, I turn to assess the situation. But he’s only staring at me. Shocked, yes. But still unmistakably him.

“I- I didn’t know you wanted to get married,” he says at last.

Yeah, well, that makes two of us. Until today. “I didn’t either,” I admit.

“Then why are you making such a big deal out of it?”

“I’m not making a big deal!” I shoot back, feeling defensive for some reason. But I catch myself because that isn’t going to help us right now. “Johanna asked me when you were going to propose,” I explain. “I guess it just got me thinking.”

“I’ll marry you,” Peeta says. “If that’s what you want.”

Is it? I expect the very prospect to make me feel a sense of panic like I’m trapped or something. I’m surprised when I realize it doesn’t. Aren’t I already planning to spend my life with him anyways?

“Do you want it?” I know he did, back when we were teenagers. Before the hijacking. I know he still loves me. But have his opinions on marriage changed since the Capitol messed with his brain?

Peeta clasps my hand in both of his. “Katniss, it’s all I’ve ever wanted. I just didn’t think you did. I didn’t want to push it.”

“Well… I do,” I finally admit.

A large grin spreads across his face. He turns his body towards me, taking both my hands in both of his. “Then Katniss,” he says, “will you marry me?”

I can’t help smiling myself. For the question, for the fact that this conversation went far better than I was afraid it would. All I had to do was tell him what I wanted. If I had any qualms about our future together, that already makes me feel much better. “Yes.”

His face lights up, and a familiar mischievous glint reflects in his eye. “Real or not real?”

My heart warms over, thinking about how I once was so sure this day would never come. First because of my own guarded heart, and then because he was stolen from me. But he is here, and he’s the one birthday present I’ll ever want year after year.

“Real.”

[canirove]

Rice, Rice, baby | Chapter 7

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Masterlist

“Olga, do I really have to go with you? I want to go home, I'm shattered.”

“It'll be just a minute. I'll check if I left my wallet in the kitchen and then we can go” she says. “And stop complaining, Liv. You are turning 25 tomorrow, not 80.”

“Feels like it” I sigh. Because today has been chaotic. 

There was a double training session and some meetings going on, which means that I've spent most part of my day making coffees for everyone, going up and down the stairs to deliver them to the offices, and taking meal orders since one of the waiters called in sick and Olga needed help. And as if that wasn't enough, since the game at the Emirates I've been sleeping like shit, constantly having nightmares where my dad finds out about me and Declan and kills him. Literally. In last night's dream he used an axe to do it. 

“I promise I'll be quick” Olga says, opening the cafeteria’s door.

“You better” I reply, following her. 

“Happy birthday!” everyone screams as I walk in.

“Bloody hell!” I yell, my heart on my throat. “What the fuck?”

“Language, Olivia” Madders says. “This is a birthday party!”

“A what?”

“Surprise!” Olga says while hugging me.

“You… you… what?”

“I know your dad said that you don't like celebrating your birthdays, but you only turn a quarter of a century once!”

“Wow, those are some big words for you, Maddison” I laugh.

“So funny, Liv” he replies, rolling his eyes. “Everyone is dying to wish you happy birthday, you know? Sonny made you a card, and I think a certain Spaniard even got you a present…”

“You all seriously need to stop with that.”

“I was talking about Bryan, Liv” Madders smirks. 

“You… Idiot” I say, hitting him in the arm.

“It's not my fault Spanish dudes love you!” he laughs. “Though you prefer them half Irish, don't you?”

“Shut up!”

“Half Irish? What did I miss here?” Olga asks.

“Nothing. James is talking shit as always.”

“Yes, I am” he laughs again. “Anyway, are you coming or not? I can't wait to try the cake. Alex told me it is your favourite, and knowing how obsessed you are with anything with chocolate, I'm sure it'll be amazing.”

“Wait, Alex is here too?” I ask.

“Yep.”

For the past few weeks he's been behaving super weird around me, basically ignoring me, and I still don't know why.

We've known each other our whole lives since my dad and his are best friends and  we live close by, and even though we've had our ups and downs (especially because of my dating life and him not liking any guy I did), he had never been like this. 

“C'mon, Liv. Let's go say hello to your guests” Olga says, linking her arm with mine and walking towards where everyone is. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Happy birthday, dear Olivia… Happy birthday to you!”

“Don't forget about making a wish!” my mum says.

“Done” I smile.

For my actual birthday I'm having a small gathering with my parents, Alex's and him, the usual every year. After partying way past midnight with everyone at work, it is what I needed. Something chill and at home where I can wear my pyjamas, have crazy hair, and where no one will give me a weird look. Though this year my mum forced me to actually look nice since it is a special number.

“I can't believe my baby is 25 already” she says while hugging me. Or while squeezing me against her. “Where has time gone?”

“She was a tiny loud baby not that long ago, and now look at her. My darling is a beautiful, intelligent and wonderful woman I'm very proud of” my dad says.

“Oh, stop it” I say, trying not to get emotional. 

“Should we start with the presents before everyone starts crying?” Alex's mum chuckles.

“I told you I didn't need anything, guys.” 

“This is just a little detail” she smiles.

After opening a few more presents, it's time for my dad to give me his.

“I'm a bit nervous about this” he laughs, giving me a small box. “Hope you like it, darling.”

“Thank you” I say, slowly opening it. Inside it there is a car key, one that obviously has a Tottenham keychain. And under it, there is a note. “Look out the window? What does it mean?”

“It means exactly that. Look out the window” my dad says, nodding towards the big one in our living room.

“Ok…” I say, walking towards it. And then, I see it. It can't be. “Dad, is that… Oh my God, is that a Mini?” 

“It is, darling. Your Mini.”

“What?”

“It's yours, Olivia” my mum says.

“But I… you… how?” I mumble, looking from the car to the key in my hand.

“You've always been obsessed with that car for some reason. So much, that when you got your driving licence, I bought you a small replica of it” my dad says.

“You did, yes” I chuckle. “I still have it in my room.”

“Do you remember what I told you when I gave it to you?” 

“That one day… Oh, dad!” I say, running towards him and hugging him.

“I told you that one day I would buy you the real one, not just a toy. And that day has come” he says, hugging me back. “It isn't new, we couldn't afford it. But it is better than that thing from the Pleistocene you were driving.”

“It is perfect. The Mini, I mean” I say, moving to look at him. “It seriously is. I love you so much, dad. You too, mum.”

“Oh, Olivia” she says, joining our hug. 

“Did you film all that?” I hear Alex's dad say.

“I did” he replies. 

“I probably look so stupid” I laugh.

“You look beautiful, Liv” Alex says. And that was… odd. But whatever. 

“Why don't you kids take the car for a spin?” my dad suggests.

“Now? What about the cake?”

“You and your cakes, Olivia” my mum replies, rolling her eyes. “It will be here when you come back. Just be careful, ok?”

“Ok” I smile. “Thank you. Again” I say, giving my parents another hug. “I love you.”

“And we love you too. Now go, darling” my dad says.

“And Alex, don't let her go too fast.”

“I won't, Mrs. Chapman” he chuckles.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Liv, what did your mum say?” 

“Shhh” I reply, speeding up a bit more. 

“If you crash your car on the first day…” Alex laughs.

“That won't happen. I'm gonna take care of him as if he was my son.”

“Is it a boy?”

“It is a boy” I smile. “The most beautiful one.”

“You'll have to give him a name, then.”

“Urgh, I suck at choosing boys names.”

“Is that why all your pets growing up were girls even if they actually weren't?”

“Yep.”

“Then you better not have a son in the future” he laughs again. 

“Yeah” I smile. “I've missed hearing you laugh. Are you ok?” I ask him, slowing down now that we are back in our neighborhood. 

“Uh?”

“You've been avoiding me, Alex.”

“No, I just… I've had a lot going on and to like… Organise my feelings and thoughts.”

“Oh, I see. But is everything ok?”

“Yeah, don't worry. Park over there, I want to give you my present.”

“Ok” I say, doing as he has asked me.

“So… ummm… Liv” Alex says, nervously playing with the small box in his hands. “There is something I have to tell you.”

“I'm all ears.” 

“I… You… We…”

“C'mon, Alex” I say, playfully hitting his arm. “It's me.”

“Yeah, I know. That's why saying this is so difficult. Because it's you.”

“I don't understand.” Why does he look so nervous? I think the last time I saw him like this was when he dared to ask out the hottest girl in our class and she… No. No, no, no, no. He isn't going to…

“I love you, Liv.”

He is. Oh, my God, he is doing it.

“And not like the way you love your dad or a friend. I love you like something else.”

“Alex, I…”

“When I told you that I was trying to like organise my feelings and thoughts, I was talking about you. About what I feel for you. Because I… because I've realized that I've always been in love with you, Liv. That if I've been a prick and disliked all the boys you've dated or been around, it's because I was jealous. Because I wanted to be them. Because I love you.”

“Alex, listen…”

“This is for you” he says, opening the little box and showing me what is inside. A ring. He got me a freaking ring, and one that doesn't look cheap. 

“I can't accept it.”

“It is just a birthday gift, Liv. Nothing else.”

“Nothing else?” I laugh. “You just told me that you love me and now are giving me a ring, Alex. This totally looks like some kind of proposal.”

“Well, if you think about it like that… Then yes. It is a proposal. Liv, do you want to be my girlfriend?”

This can't be real. This has to be another of my nightmares. They all start the same, with something really good happening, and then boom! The killing starts. 

“Alex… I… No.” 

Have you seen that episode of "The Simpsons" where Lisa is dating Ralph, she breaks up with him while being live on tv, and when they are watching it again Bart says something like, look, if you slow it down you can see the exact moment where you break his heart? Well, that is happening right in front of me. 

“I'm very sorry, Alex. But I don't love you. I just like you as a friend.”

Wow, Olivia. Wow. You just delivered the most cliché line ever. 

“I see…” he says, closing the small box and putting it back in his pocket.

“I'm sorry.”

“I heard you the first time, Liv.”

“Ok, umm… I should drive us back home.”

“Is there someone else?”

“What?”

“Are you seeing someone?”

“Maybe...” I say, biting my lower lip. 

“Is it the Spanish guy? The one everyone keeps talking about at work.”

“Who, Pedro?”

“Yeah, him.”

“He isn't anyone from work or related to it.” Which is a lie, but it is best if he doesn't know.

“Oh, ok.” And those are the last words he says to me for the rest of the day.

[aita-polls]

AITA: My (F31) best friend (F33) got angry at me for not organizing her a bigger birthday celebration.

I've known my best friend for 10 years, we've been through a lot, we used to work together and now we don't anymore, so we only see each other for birthdays and celebrations, and we text each other as we need to, not everyday nor once a week, more like twice a month.

Usually on my birthdays she and our other best friend (M37) go all the way out to celebrate me. It's been a dynamic we've had since we met, that in our birthdays we try to go all in, with surprises, usually weekends spent somewhere else (like the beach or mountain) and basically doing a lot for the birthday person, it's not always perfect but most of the times it's big.

Now last year, we tried to organize for her a good birthday celebration, we went to have dinner at the beach and then to a kind of amusement park close to it (we're not from the US), it was expensive and supposed to be nice but it rained and the restaurant we were supposed to go was closed so we went to another one and basically I could tell she didn't like it. She didn't say anything except that she and her girlfriend didn't like to go out that much anymore because of drinking and driving, so like they felt more comfortable drinking at home. And that was her excuse for like, not having fun then.

So this year we planned a home party for her. We went all in with liquor and different cocktails, more expensive stuff that we usually don't do, snacks and everything, but due to convenience (her house being the biggest and having enough rooms for all of us to sleep in) we decided to throw her the party in her own house. I asked her and her gf if that was okay, if they liked the plan and she said yes, that she'd always welcome us gladly... it was supposed to be an opportunity to be stupid silly drunk without any of the risks or stress of doing it in a public place.

Fast forward to the very same day of the party... her girlfriend was in charge of getting some edibles for us to eat at the party and she tells me none of her suppliers has product available. I don't know anything about buying that kind of stuff, it's always their thing to get that for the group, so we tried a couple of options and basically we didn't have any weed for the night.

So she texted me asking, since we had no weed, if we had another plan for the night... I'm like ??? no??? we did have enough alcohol to get super wasted, so in my mind I was like: even tho it's sad we won't have weed, there's still everything else we had already purchased for the party.

She then sends me a 7 min voice note saying that she needed to be honest with me, that our friendship could survive this because we were both adults and I should be able to listen to this without it offending me, but basically she felt bad because she thought she deserved better than just a house party, in her own place where she's everyday... that all of our parties she did everything to make it special, and started naming examples of this, but that since last year she'd felt we didn't do the same for her. That last year we went to places she'd already been in, and this year we were doing the party at a house? when none of our celebrations were ever at our houses... and stuff like that.

She also mentioned that though it's true that she's been forgetting to get us christmas presents for the past two years (which is true) it's not fair for her to get this kind of celebration, when we are three people (me, my other friend and her gf) to divide expenses with...

So, AITA for not planning a bigger party for her? I genuinely thought that the house celebration was going to be good, I'd like something like that for my own bday party. I also feel like, if she felt like this she should've told me before, not the exact day of the party at noon. I feel like she only said this to make me feel bad and I'm still so angry, but when I've talked about it with people irl they only say that she should've mentioned it before... but they do think that her comments are valid, as in, she's right we should've done something bigger for her... so I'm genuinely asking 🙏🏽

[tw-inkl-e-tit-s]

✩-Soulmate-✩

Pairing: Miguel Cazarez Mora x Fem!Reader

Word count: 4.9k

Type: Fluff

Warnings: LOTS of cussing, fake blood, fake weapons, just horror maze things, Readers ex-boyfriend is a peepee head

| Miguel Cazarez Mora Masterlist

Y/N'S POV

I was scrolling threw my phone when my daughter busted threw the door of my bedroom. "Mom we need to talk!" she said walking over to my bed and climbing in it.

"Um yeah, you should be in bed," I laughed at her scrunched-up face.

"No Mom, I'm talking about my birthday tomorrow, You promised we would go to Halloween horror nights with Dad." I looked down at my hands.

She must have heard the conversation I was having with her father over the phone, She is so nosey. I didn't know how to tell her that her dad wants nothing to do with her anymore, Because honestly how do you? I told him that he didn't have to come if he was going to show his ass and that I and Gracie would stay home and celebrate.

"I'm sorry honey, you're dad isn't feeling the best and he canceled last minute," I said trying to come up with something off the top of my head.

"Oh, Well that doesn't mean that you and me can't go!" She shouted, clapping her hands together, she mustered up the best puppy dog eyes I have ever seen.

"Please can we go, Mommy, Please!!" I couldn't resist her adorable face,

"This girl is gonna be the death of me," I thought.

I thought about it a little bit and decided, why not. "Fine, we can go-"

"YESSSS!!" she jumped off the bed and did a goofy dance causing me to laugh.

"You better go get some sleep if you wanna go get ice cream tomorrow." she stopped and looked at me,

"Ice cream!?" I nodded my head smiling,

"GOODNIGHT MOMMY!!" she yelled as she ran to her bedroom. I laughed at my adorable daughter as I reached over and turned off my bedside lamp and fell asleep for the night.

TIME SKIP

We gave our tickets to the guy, he scanned them and gave us our wristbands and we walked in.

I was holding Gracie's hand so she wouldn't run off, "Mom can we please go on that one!!" She said pointing to a hay ride.

I laughed and nodded my head, "Heck yeah, we can!" We walked over and the woman scanned our wristbands, We got on and waited as another group of people got on, it was about nine people and I guess they all knew each other since they all started talking to one another.

There were four girls, three boys, and a woman.

One stuck out to me though, He had long curly brown hair put up in a bun and he had good style, I had to pry my eyes away from him so I didn't look like a creep.

"Mommy look we're moving!!" Gracie screamed, The group looked over at us, A girl with black hair Awed as she looked at Gracie, She didn't look that old,

"She's so cute!" She laughed, The rest of the group stared at me and Gracie now.

"My name is Gracie and I am five!" She said as she put her hand on her hip, They laughed and so did I.

"Well, you are very adorable Gracie," A girl with red hair said, Gracie giggled as she swung her feet on the bench.

"It's my birthday today! My daddy is sick so he didn't get to come," She said smiling, I kinda stiffened as the group looked at me with a sympathetic look, It was like they knew that the dad was a piece of shit.

"Oh really? Well Gracie I hope you have an amazing time," The woman said as she and the group got off the ride,

"I will thank you!!" She yelled as we walked our separate way, The boy with the bun kept staring at me and he defiantly wasn't trying to hide it, I smiled at him and he winked as he walked away to catch up with the group.

"Can we go to that one?" Gracie asked, Pointing to a maze called "The black phone." It looked scary but me and Gracie loved horror so I said yes obviously.

We ran to it and let the guy scan our bands as we walked in. It was slightly dark,

"AHHH!!" Gracie screamed as a guy with a mask and a hatchet popped out of the wall at us,

"I think I shit my pants," I said as Gracie clung onto my arm, I held her close as we continued, We walked into a tiny room and it kinda resembled a basement, there was a bed, a manikin was sitting on it holding a black phone, He kinda looked like one of the boys I saw earlier, dirty blond hair with loose curls.

We heard whispers threw out the room and then a scream was heard, The same guy came out and jumped at me and Gracie,

"AHHHH FUCK YOU!!!" I yelled as I grabbed onto Gracie even more,

"NOOOO AHHH YOU BALD BITCH!!!" She yelled. I was kinda shocked since she never cusses but I didn't say anything cause one I cuss all the time and two she was scared and didn't mean to. We walked out as the man left,

"Mom I think I'm scared," She sighed, I laughed,

"You think?" I said, She glared at me and I held my hands up in defense. We walked out and someone ran at us with a chainsaw, Gracie screamed and ran behind me grabbing my legs, The guy cackled evilly as he ran away.

"You can come out now Grace," I laughed, She grabbed my hand and smiled,

"That was awesome!" She yelled jumping up and down,

"Oh let's go too-" I was cut off by someone shouting,

"Hey!" I looked over to see the same little girl from earlier running at me and Gracie, the great of the group following after her,

"Hiii!" Gracie shouted as she ran up and hugged the girl, She has always been such an affectionate person. The girl laughed as she hugged Gracie back,

"My name is Violet sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier," She said as she shook my hand,

"My name is Y/n," I said, Gracie pulled on my arm as she pointed to"The Haunting of hill house." Maze, I laughed and nodded my head,

"You wanna join Violet?" I asked, She smiled and nodded,

"As long as my friends can come!" She said,

"Of course, they can," I said, we all walked into the maze and it was dark the only thing lighting it up was some candles on the wall and a flickering light above us.

"Nothing is happening-" A person in a black body suit jumped out of the wall and we all screamed, Gracie fell to the ground and took me down with her,

"HOLY SHIT!!" I screamed, The guy from earlier appeared beside me, He laughed as he reached out his arm trying to help me up, I of course took it, Butterflies swarmed my stomach as he gripped my hand, He had very warm and soft hands,

"Mom come on!" Gracie shouted as she dragged me forward.

"Ok, we got this guys!" Gracie said as she took a deep breath, We all laughed at her, She was trying mentally prepare herself for what was next.

"It's hard to see," Violet said as she squinted her eyes, I bumped into something, I shouted as I felt someone grab my arm to stop me from falling,

"It's alright I got you, Come on," The same guy said, he pulled me up and looked at me, He smiled as he looked me up and down, I couldn't stop staring at his lips and he couldn't help but stare at mine, We began leaning in.

I knew this was wrong and I didn't even know him- but he was so cute and it gets lonely sometimes, Having a kid at sixteen inst the best thing, And it is weird when people you're on a date with asay they have to leave because they dint want you to come with baggage. He grabbed my waist, I could feel his breath on my lips, I closed my eyes.

"MIGUEL LET'S GO!!" One of the guys shouted,

"Mommy where are you!?" Gracie yelled and I sighed as I looked forward, I didn't see them anywhere, Great they were ahead of us, I looked back at Miguel who was standing there awkwardly scratching the back of his neck,

"Uh we should catch up," I said, He nodded as he walked fast without me, Ok dick face.

I heard Gracie scream somewhere in the distance and I couldn't help but laugh, Miguel looked at me and smiled, and I smiled back,

"AHH STOP! GO IN!!" Miguel screamed as an alien thing popped out from the corner,

"NOOO NOO STOP!!" I screamed gripping Miguel's arm, I guess he didn't mind since he put his hand over mine, We continued our way through the Maze jumping at every little noise, We walked into a bathroom and a pig with a hatchet jumped out,

"ARE YOU INSANE!?!" Miguel screamed at the pig,

"FUCK I'M GONNA SHIT MYSELF!!" I yelled as a slammed into a wall, Miguel laughed as he walked over to me grabbing my hand,

"I think I already did that," He said, I laughed.

"Guys get out," The pig said as he peeked out from behind the shower curtain.

"Bro fuck you, pigs don't speak!" Miguel spat, flipping the guy off, He grabbed my hand and we walked out.

We walked into a circus-like room, A lion jumped out and Miguel screamed and held onto my waist as he hid behind me,

"Is it gone?" I heard him muffle into my neck, his breath tickling me,

"Yeah," I said, thank god it was so dark in here and he couldn't see the blush that took over my face,

"My legs are shaking!" I sighed as I gripped Miguel's arm tighter,

"Wish I could make them," Miguel mumbled,

"What?" I asked looking up at him,

"O-Uh nothing-nothing!" He stuttered looking forward.

Someone jumped out of the bed and started crawling towards me and Miguel,

"OH HELL NO GET THE FUCK BACK IN THE BED!!!" Miguel screamed as he kicked at the person,

"THERE IS A DOOR LOOK!!" I yelled as a drug Miguel away from the creepy-lookin' person. We went to open the door and someone jumped out at us,

"FUCK YOUR MOM!!" I yelled as they ran by me into complete darkness, I and Miguel walked through the door.

it was quiet and nothing was happening, "Are they late?" Miguel asked looking around,

"I guess so," I laughed looking around as well, I looked at Miguel and he was already staring back at me.

I could feel the butterflies swarm in my stomach again as his gaze shifted to my lips, He looked like he was trying to hold himself back,

"Your pretty, and he didn't deserve you," He said,

My brows furrowed, "Gracie's dad, He didn't deserve you, He fumbled real hard with you," he whispered as his gaze shifted to my eyes, I smiled,

"He was a dick, He was toxic and only used me for his own pleasure," I said, tearing up a bit.

"Gracie said he didn't come tonight… because he was sick?" He asked,

"He doesn't want anything to do with Gracie anymore and I didn't know how to tell her so I just said he was sick," I choked, I was finally letting all my pent-up emotions go and it was in front of a random guy.

"Hey, It's alright, I got you," He whispered as he pulled me into a tight hug rubbing my back, He rested his head on top of mine as he shushed me.

"Sorry," I cried into his chest, He lifted my face to look at his,

"You don't have to apologize for that, it isn't your fault that guy is a dick, Someone else could treat you so much better than him!" He said causing me to laugh,

"Yeah, who? Nobody wants someone who has a kid 'cause that's not attractive," I said, His eyes softened and we made eye contact, his hand was still on my jaw,

"I could treat you better, So much better." He whispered as he looked at my lips and then back to my eyes.

I began to breath heavy as he leaned in, and his hands slid down my body making their way to my waist, His lips crashed with mine. I was shocked at first but soon relaxed into it, his hands slithered under my shirt as he began gripping my waist, He broke away from the kiss and began kissing along my jawline to my neck, It was getting hot, He sucked onto my neck as his hands made their way up my waist some more,

"So pretty," He whispered as he kissed down my neck,

"Miguel," I breathed as he inched his hands up my stomach some more.

We pulled away screaming when we heard a chainsaw go off, and a guy with a knife came running towards us, Miguel grabbed my hand and we ran out.

We stopped and looked at each other, We busted out laughing,

"Holy shit!" I shouted as I placed my hand on my chest, Miguel laughed as he pulled me close to him placing a kiss on my forehead, He backed me up into a corner,

"So where were we?" He smirked,

"Oh no I am not dying tonight, We need to hurry and get out of here I need to find Gracie!" I laughed as I pushed him away. He groaned as he grabbed onto my arm,

"FINE!" He shouted, I giggled as we began walking.

We turned the corner and as soon as we did a guy in a baby mask jumped out at us and Miguel screamed and ran away leaving me,

"MIGUEL AHHH!!!" I screamed as the person came running towards me, I got up and ran to the other room, I heard Miguel scream as he came running back into the room, He was out of breath,

"THE BITCH IS FUCKING CLIMBING ON THE WALLS!!" He yelled, we both got up and ran. We heard laughing and giggling coming from behind us, I was crying at this point and Miguel was screaming like a little girl at every jumpscare.

Somebody grabbed Miguel's arm and he screamed, He grabbed me and threw me at them, they screamed at me and I got off of them running away.

"I FUCKING HATE YOU MIGUEL!!" I yelled as I hit his arm,

"OWW!" He Whined rubbing his arm, We finally made it out of the maze and I let out a breathy sigh,

"OH THANK GOD!!" I said trying to catch my breath,

"Jesus I think I shit myself!" Miguel laughed as he walked up and hugged me, He gently grabbed my jaw and kissed me,

"Mommy! MOMMY!" I heard, I quickly pulled away seeing Gracie running at me with a huge hello kitty stuffy and some pink cotton candy. She was smiling big, the rest of the group following behind her.

"Mom look what I got!" She said showing me her things,

"I see, who got them for you!?" I laughed bending down to her height to give her a big hug.

"Mason got them for me!" She smiled pointing towards the guy in the white shirt, He smiled and waved his card at me.

"Thank you so much," I said, He shook his head laughing,

"No problem, I couldn't say no to her," He laughed.

"Ooh let's go on the roller coaster, Mom!" Gracie yelled jumping up and down, she grabbed my arm as she took off towards

"trust fall tower." yeah that totally doesn't sound like it will make you shit yourself. Miguel grabbed onto my hand as we made our way onto the ride. The group was giving us weird looks but we just ignored it.

"Mom, hold my hand," Gracie said, I grabbed her hand and the cart started moving. We went up and the cart dropped down,

"FUCK!!" Gracie yelled gripping my hand tighter, We stopped and everyone was breathing heavily.

"Get me off this thing!" Violet said, The guy let us off,

"I need to go to the bathroom and piss," Mason said as he ran towards a gift shop, We laughed as we walked in said gift shop. They had candy, stuffies, and shirts everywhere.

Miguel and Gracie had abandoned me to go look at some bandanas together. I felt someone lock their arm with mine, I jumped slightly and looked at them, It was the red-headed girl from earlier, She smiled as she looked down at me,

"Hi, I'm Brooke!" She said,

"I couldn't help but see you and Miguel kissing when you came out of the Maze earlier and I just wanted to say you guys look super cute together!" She giggled, I smiled and looked down,

"You think so?" I asked, She gasped dramatically,

"Girl the way he looks at you, I can tell he likes you." She said, I looked over at Miguel and Gracie, He was holding her up on his shoulders so she could pick out the shirt she wanted, He looked over at me and blew me a kiss, I blushed and blew him a kiss back.

"SEE!" Brooke shouted, Scaring some of the people in there.

"He is in love with you," She sighed.

"I guess I should ask him out right?" I asked, looking back at Miguel who was now walking over carrying Gracie with him, She was asleep with her arms wrapped around his neck.

"Hey, I need to talk to you," He asked nervously, Brooke smiled and walked away. I looked back at Miguel who was now looking at the ground,

"What do you wanna talk about?" I asked, He looked at me and smiled,

"I really like you y/n… and I wanna know if you would like to go out with me, You don't have to I understand," He started to ramble looking everywhere but at me.

I smiled at how nervous he was, He certainly wasn't nervous a few minutes ago with his tongue down my throat and his hands up my shirt. I leaned in and kissed him, He was surprised at first but relaxed into it, We pulled away smiling at each other.

"I would love to go out with you Miguel," I said, He smiled leaning in to kiss me again.

"YAYYY!!" Gracie yelled scaring me and Miguel,

"I thought you were asleep," Miguel laughed,

"No, I just wanted to be carried!" She giggled.

We all went back to my place to celebrate Gracies birthday and have cake, It was a wonderful night and I know for a fact that I had found my soulmate.

Taglist: @vancehopperenthusiast @bradyhepner @deadghosy @finneyblakes @mnsnloverhey @jayceflwrs @bookobsessedfreak

[project-summerhome]

Happy birthday, Gravity Falls!/Summerhome HD 1.5 Re: Mix

Eleven years. How has this show been around for eleven years. How. I don’t understand. What’s happening to us. The sand in the hourglass is falling so much faster than it’s supposed to. I try to hold onto it but I can’t even break the glass. And yet, somehow, safe in its case, the sand still drowns me. The sands of time drown us all. It’s only a matter of how long you can hold your breath. Obviously, Gravity Falls means a whole lot to me, otherwise we wouldn’t be here. It’s been a part of my life for over a decade now, seven years since it ended, and the world and characters still have enough of a stranglehold on my heart and mind that here I am, doing this. Summerhome is my way of trying to celebrate Gravity Falls, so along with a sincere thank you to the crew who made the show what it was, I also wanna use this time to elaborate on my last post. This is going to be kind of a soft reboot of the series; along with updating the current episodes to be more reflective of my current skills as a writer and plans for the story, the format of each episode will be updated to more closely reflect actual television scripts. I’m gonna try and strike a good balance between authenticity and readability, and will absolutely be open to critiques about both the writing and the format. Also: we now officially have our own logo by @tangelojack, and a blog header by @o-lanterns! Their work on the series has been phenomenal and invaluable and if you don’t applaud for them I’m blowing this whole building up Probably the biggest change, though: I’m gonna be posting on Ao3 now! Episodes will still be posted as they have before, in the form of links to the Google Docs, but there will now be Ao3 mirrors for them as well. (Disclaimer: I do not support Ao3 or its practices. Their refusal to take any action on the rampant racism, pornography of minors both real and fictional, and myriad other problems on their platform is fucking abhorrent. If Ao3 was a person, I would wrap barbed wire around my own hands just so it would hurt more when I choked it to death. The decision to start posting there was reached after some suggestions from readers and consultations with friends for the sake of better accessibility and further exposure, but I don’t want there being any illusions about my feelings on the site. I accept any and all complaints about my selling out and will be ready with a sincere but ultimately worthless apology) That aside, though: thank you all again for bearing with me through everything. Again, can’t make any promises about the update schedule, but I really do appreciate your patience, and I have high hopes for this reboot-take two of the premiere should be ready to post not too long from now! Thank you all for allowing me to drag you down with me as I spiral further into madness over a children’s cartoon, and I hope you’re all having a great summer!! (Also happy birthday to Stan and Ford Pines you old fucks I hope you never die or get sad)

[angelsdevils]

Rindou Haitani

a/n: Happy belated birthday @thisbicc sorry this took so long. I hope you enjoyed it!

Tag List: @y00nse0 @shelly-ya @haitani-bruv @galactict3a

Rindou looked down at you as you played on your phone.So many thoughts were going through his head, the biggest and most daunting thought was how beautiful you were. You were a tad bit chubby, covered in tattoos, tongue and septum piercing, and even though he never saw them, except through a shirt, you had nipple piercing. And the way you dyed your hair, half black and half blonde. Every detail about you was so hot, but there was one small problem. You two were best friends. He met you in school, you were the most quiet person in school, and most people steered clear of you. You never showed it bothered you, but he wanted to be close to you, so he did. 

He never left your side, and you stayed by his side after accepting him. At first he thought it was just a minor attraction, but you both had a lot in common. You two never needed to talk in each other's presence mainly, doing your own thing while spending time together. He enjoyed it a lot but sometimes he wanted more than just a casual friendship with you. He just didn’t know how to go about it, since he did want to make it special for you. 

You felt his hand stop moving around in your hair,so you looked up at him. You could tell he was in deep thought, so you  gently placed your hand on his cheek. Rindou snapped out of his thoughts, and looked down at you. 

“What?” 

“Are you okay? What are you thinking about?” 

Rindou was silent for a moment before feeling his cheeks heat up. There was no way he could voice his thoughts. So, instead he decided to come up with a lie.

“I was just thinking we should be doing something more fun. It’s your birthday after all…”

“I don’t do anything for it, hardly ever celebrate it.”

“Well, we are friends, so let's do something.”

“Rindou, no, I wanna stay in.”

Rindou clicked his tongue, and you gave him a smile. He pinched your cheek, and gave you a soft glare.

“What happened to RinRin? Or Rin?”

“Huh?”

“You never called me Rindou, it went from Haitani to one of the nicknames.”

“Oh… I thought you hated it…” you grinned sitting up and got close to his face. 

“I do, but it grew on me.”

You looked at him before shaking your head with a small smile. 

“Well fine, Rin, I'd rather stay in for my birthday.” 

“That’s not really celebrating it…” 

“For me it is…” 

Rindou rolled his eyes, before stroking your hair again. You relaxed completely against him, before he decided that now was the best time, if you weren’t going to celebrate your birthday. He would make it special in some way.

“(Y/N)?” 

“Yes?” 

“I love you…”

It was silent before you pulled back to look at him. He refused to meet your eyes and you felt your cheeks heat up, expecting him to say sike. But it never came, instead he pinched your side and shot you a soft glare.

“Say something damnit.” 

“S-Sorry, I was expecting you to say you were joking… but you are serious?” 

“I wouldn’t have said it, if I didn’t mean it (Y/N)...” 

Rindou sat up, which caused you to sit in his lap, and he cupped your face. 

“Unless it’s going to ruin our friendship. If it does, then I am joking… but if it turns into something more… then I would be more than happy to ruin the friendship.”

You could tell he was serious, so you leaned in and pressed your lips against his. 

The kiss was sweet, yet a bit awkward since neither one of you ever thought you would cross this threshold. When you both finally parted, Rindou met your eyes before pulling you in for another kiss, one much more desperate and needy. 

“You have no idea how much I have been wanting to do this.”

“Me too, I was so scared,” you mumbled against his lips.

He traced his hands over your curves taking in every inch of you, before squeezing certain parts of you that made you blush.

“Rin, don’t do that.” 

“Why not? I like it, you are so soft…”

“Well, I don’t like it…” 

“Don’t tell me you are self conscious of yourself…”

“Shut up, and kiss me again.” 

You huffed and Rin smirked kissing you again, but pulled you even closer. 

“Gladly, but just know I am going to worship this body…” 

© [@angelsdevils] all rights reserved. none of my posts or stories should be modified, reposted, etc. I do not own the character or the fanart, but I own the plots of these stories. All fanart goes to their appropriate owners.

[snowbellewells]

One More {Part Four}

Oh goodness, Melanie @searchingwardrobes This is still your birthday fic (even though I apologize for taking so long to finish it that we could now be celebrating your half-birthday!) One more chapter after this - and I think by the end of this one, things will finally feel like they are looking up for our younger Emma and Killian...

Also available on AO3, if that’s your preference - 

Or from the beginning here on Tumblr

iv. 22 years old (three years old)

“One more move, Henry,” Emma murmured, glancing at her little boy in his carseat behind her as she adjusted the rearview mirror to start out. “We’ll try one more town, okay?” She offered the happily babbling toddler a reassuring smile - really as much for herself as Henry - though he couldn’t agree in words or fully understand her. His gummy grin bolstered her courage all the same.

“Yep,” she repeated with a bob of her chin, putting the loaded car in gear. “This will be the one.” She pulled away from the curb near the small fourth floor apartment she’d rented for the last few years, almost since bringing Henry home from the hospital, and after carefully making sure there was no traffic coming, eased her beat-up yellow VW onto the two lane road out of town.

Despite what she had told Sabine, a friend she had made through Tink Green and whose mother had rented her the apartment she and Henry had called home, Emma didn’t truly have a good reason for moving on . Things had been tough at first - her money certainly stretched to the limit - but she had also found true friendships and gotten as close to putting down roots as she had ever come. Bless Tink’s sweet, mothering soul; the nurse had stuck to her side from the delivery room all through Henry’s infancy and beyond, allowing Emma to finally feel what having a bestie, or even a sister, might have been like. Tink had introduced her to Sabine - no-nonsense, wryly hilarious owner of her own Creole food truck and maker of the best beignets east of Louisiana, and thankfully with a family in all levels of real estate. Between the two of them, they kept Emma afloat, pinch hit as babysitters, and were the only reason she hesitated when the urge to go began to stir within her bones once more.

Despite the small semblance of roots she had established, no place had ever quite felt like where she was meant to stay. Emma couldn’t explain it; she only knew that an itch would start to prickle beneath her skin, restlessness to stir until she couldn’t focus, couldn’t help but think about where she might go next, and then she’d be packing her bags again. Largely due to Henry, and wanting him to have a more stable childhood than she’d had, and the support system she had gained, these three years since his birth had been the longest Emma stayed anywhere since she had lost - 

“Nope,” she hissed under her breath, shaking her head fervently as she glanced back to be sure her sharp reaction hadn’t disturbed her little boy’s quiet doze. “We’re not going there,” she admonished herself, forcing away images of the wrung-out despair on Liam Jone’s face as he’d come to deliver the earth-shattering news, the hopeful excitement in Killian’s bright blue eyes when he had left, those front porch steps where they’d both met and said goodbye, and the cozy den at Liam and Killian’s house, where all three of them had laughed and talked and stuffed their faces full of popcorn as they’d journeyed the world via tv travel shows, all scrunched onto the brothers’ small overstuffed couch together. That was only place she had ever left that she truly missed.

By this point, she had lived all up and down the eastern seaboard, from Maine to Florida, and each of the bustling cities and small hamlets had their charms, but not one had ever stuck to her, not the way she felt that a home should do. When Tink had demanded to know where she was heading, why she suddenly had to go, Emma didn’t even have a good reply, other than to say Maine and that she felt like giving it a second chance. She just knew some thread inside was pulling her, and instead of forward to some unknown once more, she was winding her way back.

Maybe she shouldn’t have left so quickly years ago. She had been shattered, yes, and there wasn’t anything holding her there, but she could have been present for a devastated man who might as well have been a brother; they could have grieved together, found some sort of closure and peace. Instead, she had been romaing ever since - as if some new place, some view over the water or the right stretch of highway could ever fill the void in her soul.

Flicking her turn signal, Emma left behind the quiet street she travelled nearly every day, guiding the sturdy older car smoothly onto the busy highway that would have them slowly beginning to wend their way northward. Henry slept contentedly, though Emma left the radio on a gentle, folksy station just in case, hoping the easy rhythms might be soothing if he woke fussy. Her whole world and reason for being sat just behind her in that carseat, and though it had been painstakingly hard to trip, fall, fail, pull herself up, and repeat the whole thing over and again, she wouldn’t choose to live her life differently, or she wouldn’t have him.

Not doubt there would be those who considered her a terrible parent for uprooting her son from the environment he was used to, the extended family who had been there for them both when Henry had colic, or she just needed a few hours to herself, or who were willing to accept rent just a couple days late if her paychecks didn’t fall quite right one month. Emma was well aware that she was working without a net and didn’t have much of a plan either, but then, that had been the case her entire life. When it came right down to it, she had to depend on her own grit and determination - having known a bit of backup and support in the last couple years didn’t undo a lifetime of prior experience.

Plus, if she was to keep a brave face for Henry, to show him a strong, capable front as he got older and doubtlessly more perceptive, then she had to see to her own needs and desires occasionally, whether they made sense to the rest of the world or not. When she finally stopped for the evening, to find them some supper and a motel room for the night, they were almost out of Georgia and up into North Carolina. Henry whined grumpily when she extricated him from the carseat and took his hand to lead him into the all-night Waffle House, but he cheered considerably at the prospect of chocolate chip pancakes, just as she had known he would.

It was only as she curled up in bed that night, surrounding her little boy’s small form with her own body as she attempted to get comfortable on the thin mattress which had clearly seen better days - certainly not a lot of support for her neck and back already stiff from driving for hours - that she found she still couldn’t relax. With a resigned sigh, Emma forced her eyes closed and tried to rest. She’d chosen to make this journey on as small a budget as possible, not wanting to decimate the tiny nest egg she’d scrimped and saved to put away for the future. They could have stayed somewhere a bit nicer, if her earlier life hadn’t trained her to be frugal to the extreme - even now as an adult gainfully employed and getting by better than she might once have been able to imagine.

Thankfully, the thickness of mattresses or the age and wear of motel wallpaper made little difference to a three-year-old. Henry was simply excited by the whole adventure; he’d gotten chocolate chip pancakes, an extra story as he fought valiantly to keep his eyes from closing in sleep, and the promise that tomorrow they would see and ride a real train on the Tweetsie Railroad in Blowing Rock. Emma wondered if she had ever been that easily joyful - happy and unafraid. Unconcerned for what a new day might bring, and excited to find out.

Exactly as she’d wanted, exactly as she’d hoped and sweat and clawed and fought to make reality, Henry’s first three years had been so different from her own start in life. The way he was resting calmly without a care in the world right now, while she lay staring into the dark restlessly, was proof enough of that.

Despite how physically tired she was from remaining alert and driving for so long, Emma was lost in her thoughts, her mind unable to let go of its restless swirl as her limbs had done. She had just forced herself to close her eyes regardless, when she heard the buzz of a text message from her phone on the nightstand.

Rolling over and then reaching out for the offending object, Emma pulled the cell close to her face, squinting a bit without her contacts and much less light than normal by which to see, she stubbornly strained to decipher the type before her on the small screen. It was from Tink, because, of course it was. In some ways, it felt as if the woman had been hovering over Emma’s shoulder, waiting to cushion her falls like her magical Disney namesake ever since they met. It was little wonder Tink would feel the need to make sure they had reached somewhere safe and stopped to rest for the night. Belatedly, Emma chided herself for not messaging her friend with an update first, so she wouldn’t have had to worry.

‘Hey, E – ‘ the message began before charging ahead in her friend’s typical quick, effervescent fashion. ‘I couldn’t sleep, and I wondered if you might be having the same problem and see this. Anyway, I got to thinking, you’re headed for Maine, right? Some place you spent time in when you were younger? Well, I know I told you that I did some practicum hours several years ago at a physical therapist’s office up that way…’

Emma couldn’t help rolling her eyes playfully at her friend’s way of rambling effusively, even when typing instead of speaking aloud. If they were together, she would be teasing Tink to ‘get to the point already’. Instead, she only shook her head and kept reading.

‘While I was there, I met this gentleman… retired Navy, if I remember right… Anway, he was very nice - helpful, dependable… You should look him up once you get settled. You know, if you need restaurant recommendations or to know which repair companies won’t rip you off, that sort of thing. The guy is noble to a fault, probably why we only went on one date because - Whew, girl, was he handsome!’  Tink’s winky-faced, tongue-out emoji had Emma chuckling to herself just imagining the diminutive blonde saying all that in her usual rush of words and accompanying facial expressions. It made her shock at the last lines of text on the screen all the more pronounced, her breath catching in her throat, choking down her windpipe and making her cough and gasp for breath. Reading the lines over again, Emma still couldn’t wrap her mind around how it was possible. She had never told Tink - or anyone - about the Jones brothers, the closest people to family she’d ever had, and yet there it was in black and white: ‘His name was Liam. Liam Jones’ followed by a telephone number and the promise that she wasn’t trying to set Emma up, her feeling on that had been made perfectly clear.

Stunned, Emma sat the phone back on her nightstand before it fell from her nerveless hand and blinked away the moisture stinging the corners of her eyelids. However it had happened, Fate had either an incredibly cruel or patiently hopeful sense of humor. She might have eventually tried to find her self-adopted big brother once more - if she’d ever felt she could see him without Killian and not bawl until she made herself sick - but it would appear that destiny worked on a schedule all its own.

            %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Three days later, having stopped occasionally for picnics in parks, sleep at motels that seemed relatively clean and safe, and a few other attractions that had caught Henry’s fancy, Emma finally found herself at the address she had seen advertised for rent, not very far from the street where her old foster family had once lived. She could have made much better time without stopping as often, but with a three-year-old in tow, breaks were a must. There wasn’t a particular need to hurry anyway, other than the strange pull in her gut which had set them on their current journey. And in truth, why shouldn’t she sightsee and let Henry have a little fun along the way? She meant what she’d told her son, whether he understood enough to hold her to it or not. She didn’t intend to drag him all over the country like some rootless nomad. She would find a way to silence the wanderlust and stay in one place for him; as long as he liked it here, that would be what mattered.

Dusk was just beginning to gather in the evening sky, pink and orange streaks in the clouds darkening to lavender and gray as late afternoon inched toward the night. Emma exited the Beetle, stretching her back with a groan, and moving to round the front of the vehicle and get Henry from his carseat in back on the passenger side. Her hand had just grasped the door handle when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye.

Wheeling, Emma froze at the sound of her own name whispered hoarsely on the gentle breeze. Blinking and dumbstruck, she tried to correct her vision, knowing she had to be imagining the sight before her. 

But the vision didn’t melt away, and her heart leapt, finally daring to believe what she saw. “K - Killian?” she breathed, not sure the words had even come out loud enough to be heard. “Is it really you?”

Tagging a few who might enjoy @jennjenn615 @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @xsajx @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @donteattheappleshook @the-darkdragonfly @elizabeethan @cosette141 @anmylica @sotangledupinit @xarandomdreamx @justanother-unluckysoul @motherkatereloyshipper @stahlop @lfh1226-linda​ @gingerpolyglot​ @gingerchangeling​ @thislassishooked​ @wefoundloveunderthelight​ @scientificapricot​ @tomeandflickcorner​ @winterbaby89​ 

[sheinaugsang]

"Happy little heart found in the place of serenity"

Once upon a time, there was a girl who is raised and born in the bustling city. She was accustomed to the city's noise and fast-paced lifestyle. Then one day, her family decided to go to the province where the mother was born to visit. All of them were smiling from ear to ear, knowing that they would see the elders, get some fresh air, and be able to wake up with a view of scenery. In the province, life was simple. The people were busy taking care of their farms, and animals. They woke up earlier than the sun, worked hard during the day, and gathered around in the evening to share stories and laughter. They were content with their simple lives, finding joy in the beauty of their surroundings and the company of their loved ones. Everytime we are in our province we would spend the day just doing nothing when we were still kids, wandering around, and wondering when will be my grandparents would be done with their work. Though we are not doing anything, we enjoyed the view of mountains, people planting vegetables, and them taking care of their animals. Those times are really missed. Growing up, I get attached to our province because of the people there, and the calmness I feel.

One day at our house in the city, we received a call from my auntie who lives far from her hometown to plan the upcoming birthday of their father, who is my tatay (grandfather). After the plan was made, they decided that we should visit the elders on Tatay's birthday to celebrate, and to spend time together with relatives and of course to see each other after a long time. When the day came, everyone gathered and filled up the quiet space with noise that made the grandparents happy even for the shortest time. People would willingly wake up early to help in preparing the food, as what they have used to do. Everytime there is an event in province, it is their culture to arrive early at the place to help cook the food. While we, on the other hand, would dance and sing ‘till the sun sets, and until everyone was drunk and had so much fun during the celebration. That moment was unforgettable and I would never want to forget it.

In our province, we would sometimes play under the heat of the sun with cousins our age, running around, playing catch, hide and seek, and any other games a kid would play until the sun comes down. There was some day that my father taught us how to ride a motorcycle in an open space. That was also an unforgettable memory because, since it is an open space and in the province, of course there is a cow. They were chased by the cow while my sister was in the middle of learning how to operate the motorcycle, but thankfully the owner of the cow was nearby, so no one was hurt, but the place was filled with laughter from everyone.

After a few years, my mother gave birth to my little sister and was given a chance to get baptized in the province, and a chance to celebrate her first birthday there and to visit again. Our ride going there was the funniest ride I had ever been, it was with my aunts and young cousins, who’s a first timer to visit our province. They were so funny that a 3 hour long drive seemed to be shortened. They even made a joke about the thick fog, and everything they see. Because time is running fast, my little sister has grown and turned into a three year old kid, and since my little sister's first birthday and christening was celebrated in the province, I guess she is also attached to the province. Whenever she/we visit there, everyday, she would swim at the river that is close to my nanay’s (grandmother) house. There is no day of our visits that you won't see her swimming in the river, she would even invite and drag her cousins and us her siblings, just to swim with her. They even made a pool in the river just to enjoy a little more. Then, because of it, us cousins who had seen each other after a very long time, we made a bond and had a great time spending our time. The time of our visit was not aligned, so we had to leave first before them. We really made sure to make each and every minute memorable since we don't know when we will be seeing each other again because they also live in a place where it is also far. Swimming in the daylight, singing in the night until dawn was our everyday routine. The only sad thing is, we only had two days to be complete, with my aunt’s family and my grandparents. Even though the time was short, we made sure to have fun together with them, visited our other nanay’s there, and it is so heartwarming to see them happy too.

When the last day of our visit comes, we would get ready early cause we have to walk for an hour to get to the road. Then when it is time to go, we'll bid our goodbyes to our nanay and tatay, but little did we know, our tatay would cry every time we leave, and its been going for a while now, because who would want to live in a house filled with emptiness. I used to leave our province with a happy heart, but after knowing this, I wouldn't want to come back to the city. This made me want to frequently visit even more, I would always want to come back and accompany my grandparents, to savor the time that they are still here with us, though there is a great distance between us, but still living on the same ground, I am beyond thankful for that. I would always want to come back with a happy heart, and leave with a heavy heart.

[drea-exclusives]

Week 3 — Bittersweet Reunions

Post journaling edit: this week's entry is a heavier one. I had originally intended to write about 2 major events that went on this week, including Chinese New Year which I celebrated (and am still in the process of celebrating) this weekend. However, I ended up writing and reflecting on the first event more as it held more significance to me this week. I questioned if I should post it as it is quite personal, but I decided to anyway as it is raw and it is real. Hence, here is me emptying my brain on something which I hold very close to my heart and gaining closure during the process of journaling this experience.

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

As the title suggests, this week's entry revolves around the feeling of bittersweetness; an emotion I find arises in many aspects of my life, and those of others as well.

The subject matter being a dinner I attended on Tuesday with my friends from primary school to celebrate one of their birthdays. To provide brief context, they are friends I've known since I was 10 years old, which is quite literally half of my life. But due to a falling-out that occurred between us a few years ago, I've stopped talking to them regularly though they remained in close contact with each other. Despite us making up and being on good terms now, I contemplated back and forth for a week on if I should go as the last time we met up a year ago, it was a bit of a let-down as things didn't turn out as I had expected them to. Nevertheless, I ended up going simply for the sake of it. Even though I knew I probably wasn't going to enjoy myself much considering the dynamics of our friendship now, but I thought to myself, "if I don't set any expectations, then I can't possibly be THAT much more disappointed than last time, right?"

And honestly, it didn't turn out as terrible as I thought it would. There were definitely moments where I questioned why I was even there in the first place, but I think more of that time which I spent pondering while the lively chatters of my friends surrounded me, I was silently grieving while reminiscing on the times we spent all those years ago before things changed. I realised that regardless of how many years have past, every time that I am with them I will be brought back to our pre-teen years when we had no idea what was to come; a reminder of the best and the worst times we've had together.

That's the bittersweet part of it, coming to the realisation that we are no longer the people we were 6, 8, 10 years ago. And on top of that, having to admit to myself that this friendship doesn't serve me much purpose anymore. To accept that it was inevitable, as people change over time and our values, life goals, everything that bonded us during that time are not the same anymore, at least on my end. This has been a reoccurring thought process for me in recent years, and although it does get easier every time, I think that it is something I can't escape or move on from because of the impact it had on my teenage years as well as who I am today; I would have to face it every time I see them.

This is a quote that I stumbled upon this week on one of those TikTok slideshows consisting of sad Tumblr posts with even sadder music in the background. I screenshotted it at the time not thinking much of it, but while looking through my gallery for pictures to include in this week's entry, I realised that this post describes how I feel about my current situation — grieving.

Even while I was still at the gathering, catching up and reminiscing on old times together, I was internally grieving the bond we had when we were young. Don't get me wrong, I'm super appreciative for the friendship we've had in the past decade. In fact, it is because of all these thoughts that I asked myself if my feelings were valid or if I were being selfish, considering they were having a great time during the gathering. But I think that ultimately, this is something we all go through in life at one point or another, right? Letting go of the things that don't serve us purpose anymore. We can't possibly hold onto everything in life because that would just weigh us down, preventing us from moving ahead. We have to choose what to keep and what to let go.

And that is basically what I've concluded from this experience, that this friendship is something I have to let go of (at least emotionally) to make room for the better things in life. Though I will still remain in contact with them, I don't think I will accept the next time I receive an invitation as every meetup will only bring back these bittersweet memories and emotions. They were such a big part of my life and it is because of all the history we have that I do not wish to ruin whatever happy memories we have left that remain. I am and always will be utterly grateful for the years I've spent with them, there are no doubts about that. But it's time for me to prioritize myself as well; and that includes moving on from relationships that only weigh me down, remaining in my life solely as a reminder of the past, people I no longer see a future together with.

With all of that said, pouring my heart out on this matter has definitely eased something within me. Perhaps with time I'll be able to find peace, both within myself amidst the impact this friendship had on some of the most critical years of my life, as well as in the relationship I have with my childhood best friends.

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

Song of the Week! Remember how I said I found the quote on a TikTok slideshow with sad music playing in the background? Well, this was likely the song that was playing, considering it has become one of the top audios people use for any sad scenario. Ironically, it was through those slideshows that I found this song, though I wish I could say differently. I remember the first time I came across this song, the melody alone represented so many of the emotions I felt but couldn't describe. And that is exactly how I feel about the song with this week's theme, that bittersweet reminiscence. Not just that, but the echoing lyrics in the outro aligns with what I wish to say; that despite all of this, I hope that we don't become strangers.