#so who knows what my future holds given that i am suddenly in the same place i was at the end of high school

[narcjsistx]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 | OS

karasu tabito x fem reader ; words: 1.9k (1939)

coming from this event, fifth day, 22/12

✶ 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

plot: the pact had been clear from the beginning: only needy kisses when the situation called for it, but no relationships. everything had been going smoothly up until that point, but the main problem was that now you were falling for your enemy's best friend. does tabito not want relationships because he doesn't want to set up seriously or just because he's afraid of ruining everything by being mediocre?

Even though you are literally in each other's arms, you feel Karasu light years away from you. The grip he had on your hips a few seconds ago has suddenly diminished, remaining sloppily leaning but not holding them. It took just a few words to destroy the perfect harmony that has existed between you since this strange situation began, and you don't know whether to regret having said them or to still be as convinced as you were until recently. You just know that, now, Karasu is not the same one who was kissing you until a moment ago, with the same usual sweetness

"We should stop. I'm starting to develop feelings for you and I don't want to suffer through something like this"

Words spoken in one breath, but which contained everything, or more, that you felt for the boy who until today has always been your kisser. You said that you started, and not that for months now you have thought only and exclusively of him, that you dream of being able to have a relationship with him, that you would simply like to stop being an ordinary girl and become his girlfriend. But what you dreamed of didn't fit your plan, the one that until now had given you the chance to be so close to him. The plan was simple: just kisses, maybe sooner or later a sexual relationship if you both agreed, but never and ever a relationship

Yet, it seemed so easy to fall in love with him. Karasu is polite, he knows how to joke without being offensive, he has a hobby that he is committed to and has many friends who love him, and he also knows how to treat women. It was impossible for you to understand how a boy like that is best friends with Otoya Eita, the same boy who broke your heart after a relationship that lasted no more than two weeks. You could easily say that the hatred you felt for the ninja turned into love when it came to Tabito.

It all started with this pretext: help me make Otoya regret leaving me, make him understand that I am the best girl he could spend his life with. Betting on his best friend had been a risky choice, but Karasu had accepted. And so, in front of the white and green haired boy, the kisses between you and Karasu had begun their battle against him, who frankly had never paid much attention to you two, only surprised to see Karasu with someone after long time since last time

Almost everyone, even his friends, thought you were a couple. But you both said no, you were just young and a relationship would only hinder the beautiful bond you had. Yet, your goal of making Otoya jealous had turned into nothing in less than a few weeks, while you began to reflect that Karasu was actually a good guy. That, besides the kisses, he also treated you well, and he didn't have the same behavior with girls as he had with you

And so, for a year now, you had begun to think that you loved him seriously, that kisses were not enough for you. It had taken you a year to say the words you had just said to him, and yet you had already regretted it. His face conveyed an all too obvious surprise, untypical for someone like him

"I know you don't want a relationship, so let's end this. It was fun"

You knew he didn't want a relationship, he had made it clear from the start. You had talked about it other times, and his words were always the same. They hurt you, but they were reality

"I don't want a relationship, it would hinder me and my future career as a striker. Professional players never have a steady relationship until they reach an important goal, and I will do the same. After I win, I will look for someone to spend the rest of my life with. But it's not that time yet"

Your heart hurt, your body, everything. It hurt to think that from now on, you would do without him, without his lips on yours and without the good feeling that always existed in your stomach when you knew he was looking at you. You were letting go of something you loved so much, but you knew that by doing so, maybe you would save yourself more future pain

"Are you kidding me?"

"No. It's all over, I don't want anymore"

You didn't know why he didn't want a relationship, or rather, the explanation he had given you so long ago didn't seem entirely right. Karasu, in your eyes, seemed like someone who needed love so much, who even sought it, but why did he reject it if he had plenty of it, of yours, under his hands?

There was something that told you that he was rejecting love because of a more personal fear, because of something that you had always had before your eyes but had never understood. Something that, you thought, made him very insecure. But what was this insecurity of his if he was so perfect? What he was hiding from you?

Slowly, you pulled away from his grip, which no longer held you to him. Your lowered gaze helped you not to look him in the eyes, because seeing even a shred of sadness would have destroyed you. It was the best choice, but why did it hurt?

"You can't be serious, everything is going great"

"It's precisely because everything is going well that I want to stop. Karasu, I think I seriously love you, kisses are no longer enough for me. But at the same time, I know you don't want a relationship, and I don't want to force you to have one with me. If everything continues to go so well in my mind we will be like boyfriend and girlfriend, while you will continue to think of us as just two friends. And I will suffer from this, because I know myself"

You had to be harsh with your words, even if you didn't really want to be, and especially not with him, who hadn't actually done anything to you. But if you weren't, it would have been even worse

He didn't want a relationship. He didn't want a relationship. He didn't want a relationship

But really, why?

"You can't just go away and break everything. Don't you think about me?"

Karasu has never been someone who blames things, he has always admitted that he hates those who do it, because he thinks they are mediocre, and he hates mediocre people

"Yes, and it's better for both"

"You don't know what's fucking best for me..."

"Instead, yes. Think of it as if our relationship was a test for what you will have with your future girlfriend"

"I don't even want to think about anyone else other than you"

Karasu wasn't the type to say things like that, especially things that sounded like a declaration of love, and hell, it seemed like one to you. Why did he just say those words if he always reminded you that he doesn't want to think about anything but his career? Is there seriously something he's hiding from you that goes beyond the simple justification he's always given you?

"If you don't think I know what's best for you, tell me. What's best for you, Tabito?"

Maybe you had crossed the line, just maybe

"The best thing for me is to believe that I am enough for you, but I can't be if I am so disgustingly mediocre. Giving you something mediocre, being yours, is something that bothers me, because I never want to see you with something or someone who is not on your level. The thought of you walking away suffocates me, but I know that sooner or later you would realize how much I am not enough. I don't want you Y/n, even if I really do, because you don't deserve shit. Why did you fall in love with someone like me instead, so mediocre?"

So there was actually something in Karasu's thoughts, something that you actually didn't even remotely expect: how could he, so perfect in your eyes, consider himself mediocre?. The excuse of his career was therefore evidently just a bullshit to hide this more intimate side of his, who had fought so hard to hide it from your eyes, who instead saw it with an inhuman perfection

"Mediocre things don't work, they don't make things enjoyable. Settling is not love, and putting yourself in a situation like that would destroy me. I would ruin everything sooner or later, trust me"

You wanted to shut him up, you seriously wanted to. Hearing him talk so badly about himself hurt your heart, since you didn't even remotely have these thoughts about him. Never ever, in your thoughts, had you imagined him ruining everything, he who in situations always tried to resolve in the best possible way. Maybe he wasn't aware of how great it was, how 'mediocre' was the last word in the world to describe it. Maybe he was genuinely insecure about something that didn't actually exist, but was just in his head for some unknown reason

"If you consider me enough for everything, how do you explain the thing that I fell in love with you, that instead you consider yourself mediocre? Don't you think that I fell in love because you are so perfect in my eyes that I don't understand your doubts? Karasu, you have no idea how much you are not even remotely wrong, you are anything but wrong. Falling in love with someone so perfect, who knows how to love but is afraid, is I think one of the most intelligent things I have ever done, and you know that I have done a lot of stupid things in life. But I want to make you aware of how much you are enough, much more than enough. For me you know how to love, you want someone who loves you, but you are afraid. I want to take away this fear from you"

Silently, you had unmasked the mask that Karasu Tabito had so glued to his face: under that self-confident, sometimes even selfish face, there was a boy who was extremely insecure about himself, who was just waiting for someone who could love him without fear of his insecurities. You had destabilized him with your words, you could see it from the way he was slowly destroying himself. Your words were true, and you hoped that by destroying himself he would understand that you meant them

"Suppose I accept your love. Suddenly I do something, I ruin everything"

"I'll try to love you again until everything works perfectly. And in the meantime you learn where you went wrong and you don't do it again, because I know you can do it. To err is human"

You wanted to love him, you wanted him to love himself. And if trying again with him every time meant making him realize that he wasn't as shit as he said he was, you would try again and again

Mediocre was his fear, not he. A human mediocrity, because in reality everyone has fears of this kind; you had some too

"Let yourself be loved, Karasu. Let your dream come true, because I never want to see you sad about something like that"

"If I make a mistake, will you try again? Shall we try again?"

"Until my last breath"

TAG: @natmagaesp ; @kittenish0 ; @x3nafix

[zriasstuff]

Tutoring lessons pt.2 - Blaise Zabini x reader

Blaise, against his will, has to be tutored. However, what seemed like a painful way to spend time at first, gets more pleasant over time. Perhaps even extremely delightful.

fluff but who knows what can happen in the future (here’s pt.1 too) Hopefully i am somewhat feeding the little amount of Blaise fans with this.

Blaise came to you with the biggest grin on his face, as if he just learned how to smile.

“Guess what?”, he asks, as he’s seating himself opposite of you like always during your tutoring sessions.

“You found a million hidden gold galleons?” Given how happy he looked, you wouldn’t even be surprised if that was the case. He looked so energetic too with his big doe eyes and fidgety body movements, that it automatically made you cheerful.

“No, I’m afraid my news is not quite as amazing as that, but nonetheless still pretty awesome”. He inches closer to take a seat next to you.

“Geez, what is it?”

“I got my very first Outstanding on an assignment!”, he finally reveals. He even proudly holds up his paper, shoving it in your face.

“Blaise!”

“I’m so proud of you!”, you exclaim at his achievement. You know he worked so hard to better himself. The past weeks have truly been a statement to what he is capable of, if he just tried.

“Me too.” Just when you thought his smile couldn’t get any bigger, he revealed more of his perfect pearly whites to you. You’ve noticed his ridiculously good looking face before. Seeing him happy for once instead of in an incredibly stressed state made all the difference too.

“So how should we celebrate?”, you ask him. Celebrating his achievement should be good for his long term self esteem. And if it serves you too by allowing you to spend more time with him then so be it.

Not that you’d ever admit it, but being associated with him made you cooler. Not just amongst the people in your year, but younger and older students too. It never hurts to be seen with him, or have him talk you up to his popular friends.

Of course your friendship wasn’t just to improve your image. It was nice to spend time with him. There’s a good amount of similarities, but also differences that made conversations interesting.

He fumbles with his sleeves for a second, drawing your attention to his arms. Perfectly muscular arms. He thinks for a second before he says,

“I don’t know, you decide how we should celebrate.”

“I think I…” Before you remember what you wanted to say, your eyes go from looking him in the eyes to his lips. You don’t know what it was today, that you kept getting distracted. Did he do something different today?

“Seems like you’re the one having a hard time focusing today”

“What? I’m not staring”

“What?”, he shoots you a confused look.

You felt the physical need to facepalm yourself at this moment. What exactly happened? Not that he would he judging you, you think.

Suddenly you thought back to all your tutoring sessions with him. Him, as in the heartthrob of so many girls. And you alone got the privilege to spend so much one on one time with him. It felt weirdly powerful. He must like you. Not just because of the grades and all, but personally too. Right?

“Wait, I forgot I actually have something to attend to”, he sighs. His gaze averts yours for the first time in minutes.

Why did you feel so disappointed at that?

“Well today is your day. Do what you like”. The tone with which you said that probably suggested you were hurt, which is crazy. He didn’t even do anything wrong.

“Some other time though”, he said pushing himself up from his chair at the same time. “See you, and thanks a bunch really. Couldn’t have done this with you.”

Is that all he thought of you then? Just the girl who tutors him. At this point you needed to pump the brakes. Everything is as it always is and was with Blaise. Yet interacting with him today seemed so much more like a challenge. He didn’t ditch you, you tell yourself. He likes you. But what if there was more? Could there be more? Did you actually want more?

…

Dumbass Theodore Nott, Blaise thinks to himself on his way back to his dormitory. Just because he couldn’t keep it in his pants and has to keep banging girls in their shared room, Draco wants to hold a roommates meeting. Why couldn’t he just do it in the bathrooms like everyone else. And Draco was a pain in the ass too. When it’s his girls, it’s fine. But god forbid anyone disturbs his peace.

He grinds his teeth together when thinking about his missed opportunity with you. He could’ve been with you tonight, but no. Those two assholes we’re ruining everything. It’s not like he could just dip. They wanted to come up with a fresh set of rules to ensure a peaceful cohabitation, and of course he has to throw his two cents in. Otherwise it’d be pimp city.

It was the evening already, but god forbid he could’ve spent an hour or two with his cute and smart tutor.

[twilightmalachite]

Wish - Spinning Thread 7

Characters: Tsumugi, Natsume, Sora

Translation: Mika Enstars

"The bond that Switch holds is eternal~!"

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Summer

Location: Dilapidated Building

Tsumugi: —I regretted cutting my hair.

I felt that by doing so, I had also cut away my dream of becoming an idol together with Natsume-kun.

So, when I was able to be with Natsume-kun again in Switch, I wished a second time.

“I wish to become an idol, together with Natsume-kun and Sora-kun.”

Sora: …Is that wish why Senpai grew his hair out as a gankake?

Tsumugi: Fufu, I wanted to be absolutely sure that red thread I once cut wouldn’t get severed again.

I feared that if I didn’t, I would become separated again, you know?

Natsume: Nii-san, that’s the reason you never cut off that mOP?

Tsumugi: What do you mean?! It’s a really sincere wish of mine, you know!

Natsume: SiGH… You really are an idiOT, Senpai.

We’re not going to drift away just because you cut your haIR. We’ve already had plenty of opportunities to do so given to uS.

Tsumugi: That’s true, but still~!

Natsume: BesidES, as if Sora would let us become separated at this poINT. RigHT?

Sora: Right! The bond that Switch holds is eternal~!

Senpai remembers what he promised Sora, doesn’t he? That he’d make Sora’s wish of becoming happy with the three of us always smiling together come true!

Tsumugi: …That’s right. I promised you that I’d work hard to make that come true.

But, thinking about it now, I might not have had enough resolve when I made that promise to you, Sora-kun.

Because If I had, if I truly had, I would have been able to cut my hair then.

Instead of clinging to a past wish, I would believe in the future, and continue to work hard for its sake.

Tsumugi: I should know this. About how bringing back something in the past wouldn’t be what brings happiness.

Because it’s the future in which we do what we can to bring everyone happiness, little by little…

But… Then I started to feel a little anxious, that I couldn’t really believe in a future like that.

When I was dismissed as vice president, I felt as if I was about to lose the very place that I had belonged.

Reduced to nothing more than an idol, I felt I lost all value.

So, I clung to a place where at least a few happy memories remained…

Natsume: …It’s not like you to be so distressED, Senpai.

I had thought you had gone and given up on yoursELF, saying that “if everyone’s happy, then I am too”, as you always dO.

Tsumugi: I thought I had, too. But, before I knew it, I guess I’ve become greedy.

I didn’t want to give up the place where I had belonged, all those happy moments…

Natsume: FuFU, well I think the fact you began to think like that might be the happiest thing toever happen to uS.

Sora: HuHu~! Sora and Shisho~ will never ever leave Senpai behind~!

Tsumugi: Yeah. There's no reason for me to worry about us becoming separated anymore…

We'll always be together, even without this wish of mine, won’t we?

Tsumugi: —Natsume-kun. Could you do just one thing for me?

Natsume: I can’t give you an answer until I hear what it iS. What is it you nEED?

Tsumugi: Would you be so kind as to cut this hair of mine, which has gotten annoyingly long?

Natsume: …HuH? WaIT, are you seriOUS?!

Tsumugi: Yeah. I think this'll be a good opportunity. I don’t have to hold to this gankake anymore.

And, by cutting my hair, I feel it’ll help me resolve myself that I will be with you guys forever.

Sora: HeHe~, a haircut of resolve~! ☆

Tsumugi: That's true, there are lots of characters in novels who cut their hair as proof of their resolve, isn’t there?

I never thought I’d end up doing the very same thing they’d do.

Fufu, this is a good opportunity. Maybe I can use the live that President Arata secured for me to hold a hair-cutting ceremony!

Natsume: Don’t hair-cutting ceremonies mark someone’s retirement in sumo wrestlING, thouGH?

No, that doesn’t really matter right nOW! Why are you suddenly trying to change your image agaIN?

I meAN, that hair iS…

Tsumugi: Fufu, is that a no?

Natsume: It’s not thAT, juST…

Sora: HoHo~! It’s because Shisho~ just loves Senpai’s shaggy hair so much~!

Tsumugi: Huh, really? You do? You should’ve told me that sooner~!

Natsume: I never said anything of that sORT! Don't go taking whatever Sora says at face valUE!

Tsumugi: Why are you acting like some crude tsundere character…

If you really don't want to do it, Natsume-kun, you can say no. I don’t want to pressure you to do anything.

However, if I am to cut my hair, I would like you to be the first one to take the scissors.

You, the first one who promised me that we would become idols together…

So of course, if you don't want me to cut my hair, I won't either. I'm just going on a matter of feeling, after all.

Natsume: …

AhH, I get iT. This is just your way of taking responsibiliTY, isn’t iT, “Tsumugi-niisan”?

In that case, then please, leave it to me to buzz off all that annoyING, shaggy hair of youRS! It’ll leave you plenty refreshed!

Tsumugi: Ahaha… I don’t really like my skin buzzed completely smooth, though.

But well, if that’s what you want, go ahead then. Hair grows back, right?

Natsume: That was a jOKE, obviousLY. Don't go taking it seriousLY, sheeSH…

…As evER, you make your decisions in such an uncool wAY, “Tsumugi-oniisan”. Both back then, and nOW. It really bugs mE.

[ ☆ ]

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[punderdome]

WIP Whenever!

I haven't actually posted a WIP in a while, so here's a Sunday treato! This will happen sometime in the future.

Infernal Jurisprudence: The Creche

The view over the surrounding lands was exquisite in the dusk.  The sun was rapidly setting as Tavara sat on a wall by a cliff face overlooking the monastery. With a flurry of embers and the smell of sulfur and cherries, Raphael appeared on the cliff side with her.

“Such a beautiful sight, don’t you think?” Raphael offered as he observed the horizon, stepping grandly towards the edge to see the sun fading.  Tavara still sat on a large boulder.  

“It is beautiful,��� she offered without any further explanation, and she shifted away from him, seeming hesitant at his presence being so close.

“I can see that you are eager to enter a Githyanki creche, but are you eager to leave in the same state?”  Raphael offered, falsely examining his nails.  He smiled at her with a smug grin.

“What are you getting at, Raphael?” Tav demanded.

Raphael sat on the boulder next to her.  He snapped, and a bottle of wine and two goblets appeared.  He poured two goblets of wine and handed one to her.  Tavara took it reluctantly.

“You know I’m never going to give you my soul,” the Little Mouse protested.  She took a quick sip of his wine before holding the goblet tightly in both of her hands.

“I never thought so, my dear.  I did think you needed a respite from your journey, so here I am to indulge you.”  Raphael drank from his own goblet.  “It is not every mortal that can protect a druid’s grove and survive a long encounter with the various beasts of the Underdark.  Given that your heroics tend to keep you quite busy, I imagine that you are in dire need of relaxation.”  Raphael motioned to the goblet in her hands.

“Why do you keep coming around if not for my soul?  I never thought you to be the kind that tended towards charity,”  The Little Mouse caught his gaze directly with her accusation.

“Alas, dear Mouse, I am not.  Though I am a devil who knows what he wants,” Raphael taunted.  You.  The Crown of Karsus. 

Tavara drank from her goblet while contemplating their conversation.  “What is wrong with the creche, Raphael?” she demanded.

“I’m sure your Gith friend has told you all about the zaith’isk,” Raphael gave a quiet chuckle.  The Gith warrior was obviously bound by covenant to say no more details about the procedure because the she herself knew nothing more about it.

“To purge our infection,” Tavara responded shakily, suddenly seeming to doubt everything that she had been told by the Githyanki.  She is certain to start asking more questions now instead of trusting the propaganda that her Gith colleague had been feeding into her ear.

“Yes, to purge your infection,” Raphael responded.  “Tavara, if I may give you some advice, do not go first.”  Raphael stood up and turned to leave, and his Little Mouse stared at him with her jaw gaping.

“Raphael, what’s going to happen?” she demanded more information.

“Do not go first,” was all that he replied.  He grinned, trusting his Little Mouse understood his instruction.  She was always a clever Little Mouse.

[szottesfolditanyak]

the spirit of trauma

2000 körül, Szamarkand.

"... "Now it's time for you to do the healing work," said Michael.

I had wondered this morning who I was supposed to work with. I didn't see any signs that we were waiting for somebody to come. I looked through the flames to Sulema, and decided it was probably her healing I was supposed to assist in. She smiled, but her smile didn't support my thought.

"It is not Sulema that you need to work for," said Michael, and took his hand off my wrist. That changed my perception slightly, but I still was able to keep the sense of remembering my dream self. "It is Lara you need to heal," he said.

I looked at him, astonished, trying to understand what he meant.

"It is only your mind that needs to give a meaning to what I said. But you already know what I mean because it is a natural continuation of what you have been experiencing these days. She exists in your memory, so through working with your memory you can produce real changes. I told you a few days ago that she is a live person and needs to be healed from the memory demon that took her over. I wasn't mistaken. I knew then that she had killed herself, but I also know that existence doesn't end with physical death. I don't believe it is ever too late to heal."

"But how? How, Michael, can I possibly do that?"

 "What you are about to do, shamans would call walking the soul of the dead. You can call it transpersonal transformation or whatever name makes you less anxious. The process is still going to be the same. The process of transformation will only happen in the reality where internal and external spaces are the same, where there are no longer any mental boundaries separating them. It is not exactly a dream state. It is a particular state which you can enter when your dream space and your memory space are open and clear and you can move through them easily. It will be up to your memory to choose what images to create to generate the healing. Your memory images will be carriers of transformation, but the effect of the changes will extend beyond your personal memory. I am going to watch over you and to help you in moments when you may need it. To make it real, you need to take this drink."

In his hands was that same brown cup Sulema had given me to hold. It now contained a viscous substance like milk mixed with crushed herbs.

"What is it?" Anxiety found its way back into my body. 

"It is not a drug, if this is what you are afraid of. Drugs are one of the tools the spirits of trauma use to keep the hurt in place. We don't use them. It is a special herb that grows near the mountain north of here. Sulema prepared it with milk so it wouldn't be too bitter. The main thing it does is relax your muscles. It keeps you awake while you're dreaming, and at the same time it washes away all the tension knots in your muscles which are the bodily representations of your memory knots. So your memory becomes free for some time, and you are protected from your usual fears so you can experience your memories much more consciously than usual.

"Your experience will take its own special form. But the content of it will not be the main thing that matters. What matters is the process of change. And what matters is the process of finding the memory demon and conquering it to make it serve you and further healing in the future."

He handed me the warm cup, and I took it reluctantly. Then I put it on the ground, fear rippling through my body.

 "Olga, when will you trust me completely?"

I looked at him again, and suddenly a new feeling overwhelmed me. The feeling that I had known him for ages, that his presence was something I knew so well long ago, but forgot, saying it was just a dream. The feeling was so strong, so authentic, that my fear became insignificant. I reached the point where I could trust him with my life.

I took the cup and drank its contents slowly. The creamy, milky taste soothed the bitterness of the herbs. Nothing changed.

The same warm wind was gently touching my skin.

Sulema was still sitting in front of me, putting logs in the fire. I didn't see Michael but acutely felt his presence on my right side. I didn't have any expectations. I was just sitting there, looking at the fire, which soon became the focus of my vision. Only Sulema's face on the other side of the fire was still visible to me. I heard her saying, "We love storytelling here. Can you tell me a story now? Tell me the most puzzling story you know." I thought Sulema asked me that just to help me feel more comfortable, and I was grateful to her for that.

"Now?"

"Sure, why not?"

I thought about her suggestion for a while, and then suddenly the story of Hamlet, a story that had been puzzling me since high school, came suddenly to my mind.

"All right. I know such a story. It has been puzzling me for years, since I never was able to find any final, complete, and unambiguous meaning to it. This story happened long ago.

"There was a prince who lived in a faraway land. His father had died recently. His mother married his uncle and the uncle became the king, and the prince lived in his kingdom. He wasn't a particularly sad prince and he wasn't particularly lonely. He definitely wasn't mad, until one day when everything changed and the prince began to change.

"That day, or more exactly that night, he met the ghost of his dead father, who told him a story of how the reigning king, his own brother, poisoned him to death to get the kingdom and the queen. His father's ghost demanded revenge, and there was no peace left for the prince after he learned that story. He invented a clever trick: he invited wandering actors to perform for the king and the queen with a play the prince had created himself. The play was the story of his father's murder, played out by actors before the prince's mother and his uncle. He saw the proof of guilt in their faces as they watched the play, and then he became truly mad."

"He was killed, right? The prince is killed at the end of the story, right?" Sulema interrupted me without waiting for me to finish.

"Actually, yes, he was. You know the story?"

"That ghost killed him, the ghost of his father." 

"Actually, no..."

"Actually, yes. He started to play by the rules of the ghost. He let the spirit of trauma in, into himself, he allowed the demon to invade his memory with the hurt of his father's death and to become a part of himself. He started acting from the spirit's command, so he had to be killed. He didn't become mad, as you say. He was just fighting the spirit of trauma. He lost, I guess. He didn't have a wife, did he?"

"No. But he had a fiancée with whom he was very tender at first, but then she killed herself because of his rudeness and madness."

"Whoa! Were there more dead people in this story?" 

"Actually, yes. The bride's father and..."

"Oh! A really hungry ghost he was, that father lookalike. That was a good story. The one who wrote it knew about the battle."

Sulema grew silent and her squinting eyes looked straight at me through the fire, as if she was seeing through me. I saw her kind smile through the flames until they rose up again and her face became hidden behind the fire.

I started to feel my bodily sensations change. It felt as if some invisible power penetrated my tensed muscles and untied the old painful knots stored in them. Along with that, I felt my memory was liberating and changing itself into the same substance of which dreams are made, and soon a stream of images was flowing through my mind. They flowed in abundance, but there was no chaos to it; they were connected by an invisible, profound order, and my perception followed this.

The fire kept moving slightly, but its shape now was perfectly round, as if the sun, by a miracle, were burning in front of me in a duplicate of itself. I stared at it for a while, until everything turned red, and the sun disk became black. I closed my eyes and felt how this little sun in front of me was pulsating and approaching me. I tried to stay still -- very, very still -- until I heard the noise, like a gate opening, and Michael said, "Fear nothing and remember that it is the father who punishes and it is the mother who forgives. I will be with you when you need me."

... "

és jön az utazás a másik világban és a gyógyítás.

Olga Kharitidi -- The Master of Lucid Dreams 2001

[esta-elavaris]

oh i am SO on this. 13 (i'd love to know what character you most want to write for in the future!), 14 and 15 :D

13. What's a character or ship you haven't written/drawn yet but would like to some day? I'd love to write some Game of Thrones stuff one day (Sandor Clegane or Bronn, probably) but god that's a fucking undertaking. Good news is it'll be a sensible 15.6 years before I can reasonably start another new thing so it gives me time to have a think 🫠

Doesn't help that the idea I have for a Bronn fic is one I'm not even sure I came up with - I have a hunch what I'm the idea I'm thinking of is actually a memory of a Bronn fic I read years ago as a teen, so I'd need to comb through EVERYTHING I can find to make sure that's not the case before I begin, because I refuse to begin without doing that, and even then if I found nothing I'd be worried that I just missed whatever story the idea came from, and uhhhh fuck that. But it's good to have something holding me back from my Fic Aquirement Sickness 😭

I'd also love to write a Phantom of the Opera fic one day. I doubt I could bring anything original to the fandom but I mean, I have the same fear with the Dracula fic and folk are still enjoying it for what it is!

14. Is there a character or ship you were so sure you would never write/draw but now you've changed your mind? It wasn't that long ago on this blog where I was furiously insisting to people that I would never write a Boromir fic, I wouldn't put the stress of tackling Tolkien upon myself, it was too much to attempt, there was no chance.

Anyway, HWFG just cleared the 120k word mark 🤡 (and I'm very grateful to the people who talked me into it!!)

There are other smaller fandoms that I always thought I'd never bother with just because they're so small that I didn't think anybody would read them, but you guys are proving that fear wrong and making my day CONSTANTLY with your willingness to follow me into some truly random bs 💜💜💜💜💜

15. Have you noticed your style change over time?

Absolutely!! Little By Little is my oldest fic that I don't hate, and even then the growing pains within that make me cringe a little (CTW followed it, and that's the earliest one that I still like! It marked the end of me finishing a project and immediately hating it) -- the early chapters in particular are plagued by way too much introspection (listen, I'm an overthinker, I have no concept of how much thinking is too much thinking in general).

It does also change between projects, though, I think, because I try to match the "tone" of the source material to some extent.

I also think it's really cool because most of LBL was written when I began writing daily as a rule, and that's when you really see quick and substantial improvements in my ability, so it's been a great way to measure it all!

Novel work is trickier because I get so nervous when I write it that it impacts the quality, so it's less of a linear thing and more dependent on how I feel on any given day. It's wild going back to chapters I wrote when I was worried about it and editing it from a calm mindset so that it's actually good. That whole process is most of why it's taking me so long 💀. When I finished my first draft and went back to the beginning to read (it was all done by hand, so it was a long time after I'd written the first chapter) I noticed that the first chapter was so bad and then suddenly it just? Got decent? When I found my rhythm and got over the nerves, mostly? That was a nice moment. I promptly worried the pal I was living with at the time by walking laps around her living room because I couldn't believe that it was good and I was too excited to sit down. Good times 😭

Thank you!!! 💜

Fanfic ask game

[fuckyeaharthuriana]

The Winter King episode 1

First of all I need to add this small warning premise: I read Bernard Cornwell's novels so far ago, and I have been too in the grasp of my adhd to be able to focus on much, so rereading them would be impossible for me at the moment.

I guess this means I will talk about the show from a "ignorant" perspective, without talking too much about the differences between the novel and the actual show. I will judge it for what it is, ignoring that it is part of an adaptation.

Still, I remember a little, so I can confirm that the show starts the same way. Arthur is a bastard, when his father accuses him of having caused the heir's death, he is exiled, thanks to Merlin's intervention. There is also Arthur's sister (no name yet) who pleaded for mercy. Arthur saves a young Derfel and then we are jumped in a timeskip.

The rest of the episode sees some vague establishing of what "the gods" are and Avalon is. It is not clear at all, just the usual "we follow the GODS" (which gods?? who knows). Derfel is not a young adult, and he is in love with Nimue - who suddenly has to choose between the gods and that guy.

It is all very dramatic, she cannot "deny her past", but given we had known these characters for less than 20 minutes, it all falls flat. The episode RUNS, runs like the wind, trying to introduce all the possible plots around Derfel. I barely had the time to breath and understand what main plot the episode was trying to establish, the truth being that I still don't know.

I fully believe it would have simply been better to start directly with Derfel, sees him as a kid, let us know him in the classic way "past-family-what he went through" and then see Arthur save him, and introduce his conflict between wanting to stay at Avalon and wanting to be a warrior, just like Arthur.

The plot instead rolls and rolls - suddenly Queen Norwenna is in labour, Merlin and Morgana rush to her side - and for some reason they ask Derfel to come for the extra help (what extra help is not clear). Merlin has a horrible vision of the future when he holds the baby. Uther is happy to have a new son, but Merlin warns him that the child has a twisted foot and a twisted nature (?? the need to offer both at the same time... weird, very weird). Merlin says he saw the end of the whole of Britan in this kid, but Uther ignores him and cuddles the baby.

I know we are supposed to root for Merlin, and see that Uther is foolish for accepting this baby and not Arthur, his other son, but the truth is - the baby is a baby. I don't think the tv show convey the danger, or managed to get me on the side of Merlin because that baby is so SMALL? and innocent? And the show is so fast we never had the chance to trust Merlin, to see him struggle or actually care for Britain, we do not know much of what he cares for (the vague gods).

Suddenly - so fast - Merlin leaves for Arthur, and Derfel says he is gonna stay there while Nimue goes to Avalon. Derfel found a job (in the span of a night?? few days??) and decided (after a nightmare/flashback) to want to become a warrior. The sad music almost made me laugh, I have to be honest, while looking at Derfel leave Nimue behind, as the show spends zero attempts in trying to making us invested in their relationship.

Also I cannot really judge actors, I am not that good at catching who is a good actor or not, but I could barely hear what Nimue was saying, she always seemed almost drunk.

Luckily, among all characters, Derfel seemed to have the best actor to be able to do quite a lot with little. He had a boyish naive quality that made me believe he DID find work overnight, and he did decide to become a warrior just because Arthur told him. I will definitely try to continue watching, as I am curious to see how they are going to make this Derfel into the Derfel I vaguely remember form the books.

Other positive comments I have for the show would mainly be about how well it convey the arthurian feelings of a historial novel like Bernard Cornwell's. I cannot speak about how historically accurate the clothes, weapons and buildings are, but for an untrained eye like mine they all did a lot to world-build, to give me the idea of a prosperous kingdom on the verge of wars.

[fumikomiyasaki]

🍼 with Carol and the poly or Utau and Mellow

We are having a baby

A bit drowsy she woke up in the arms of James and Metaron, sandwiched a little after all she spend the night with them, smoothly she tried to slide out of their arms... its been like this for a ton of days, sometimes Elias joined them but they been trying for a while so she can have a baby... and often she just marched out when she had a good feeling in did the test. This morning she noticed her body seeming a bit off so she went as usual into the bathroom to check. Rubbing her tired eyes as she suddenly noticed it... a positive... She suddenly squeeled by accident out of happiness. Accidentally waking James and Metaron out their sleep as she rushed out dressed up again.

"So whats the news?"

She smiled at them both and held up the test.

"We finally have a new member to the family soon."

Both got up quickly and pulled her in a hug, Elias overheard the noises and joined them quickly from the other room, holding her yet he also brought up a valid question.

"So who do you think was it?"

"I did." "I am." A response James and Metaron gave at the same time... true they would both be the most plausible given they spend the night with her the most at the same time... yet Carol looked at them with a sigh.

"We can make a test once the doctor looks at it, I am just happy about it at all. I need to write down some names plan some stuff-"

As she rambled suddenly she felt a bit weaker and Metaron catched her fall.

"You will rest for now, We will take care of things."

"Fine.. but I still want to write down at least a little bit of things."

The three smiled brightly at her... as they all thought about the little wonder that was awaiting them... weeks passed and they could go to the doctor to check up on who was the father... and after some time it was set that it was Metaron, James next to him looking a bit grumbly.

"Mad I was faster, grow up."

"Thats not it I..."

Yet as Carol walked up to him and placed a kiss on his cheek, things were less bad... maybe he had another chance in the future to be the father himself as well.

"Please, I care about you both dearly.. it wouldn't have mattered who was first... all that matters is.... we can finally be a true family together... we finally have a child of our own."

Even if he didn't like this smug Smile Metaron had at him at first James pulled an arm around her and smiled.

"Then it seems first we need a house with more space together... lets plan everything together back home."

Metaron got closer as well putting a hand on her stomach and Elias went to kiss her hand as well... being surrounded by them all she felt assured and ready for whats to come... and she couldn't wait to meet that child of her own.

On that day he came back from work to a some what different atmosphere... a box was placed on the table as Utau waited for him. He walked up to her and placed a kiss on her forehead, putting down his work clothing over the chair and sat down next to her.

"Um... M-Mellow... I have a gift for you, would you open it?"

"Sure but... you seem sick, is everything good?"

"I am fine, don't worry. Just o-open it please."

He was confused to say the least.... as he opened the box however he found small stuffed Rabbit with a note on it.

'We will be having a cute little monster rabbit together.'

Mellow eyes widdened, suddenly bursting into tears of happiness and pulling her in a warm embrace carefully.

"I-its really true?"

"You are going to be a father, yes."

"I am so happy you don't know.... finally a family of our own... i just... "

"I know... I am sure... y-your father and mom would be happy to see you like this."

Mellow whiped his tears and nodded.

"I will promise to make you as happy and smiling as my father did with his mom... and... I make sure my child won't suffer the same loss and lack of control."

He held her hands while making this promise as she smiled at him... he knew things aren't easy... especially for a part monster child but... he knew he would do everything to make this happy future a possibility. In doubt he could ask Leroy for help.

[heyhoneyfox]

Please Live

Created by milomilesmib on Tumblr

Warnings and such: angst, blood, but otherwise it's meant to be kind of touching? Idk

Around 1000 words, both characters are unnamed. Feel free to self-insert if you want, though they do use kind of an old way of talking. Best read with sad music in the background. First person, present tense.

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

“Please do not leave me, not until I am fully gone.”

The fact that he feels the need to look into the eyes that he has stared at for hours on end, my eyes, and ask for me to stay with him; it forces upon me a feeling akin to a dagger to the heart. Had I not stayed beside him through worse? Have I not proven that all I want is to be by his side?

“I will not leave you,” I promise him as I try to gather my strength, praying that I do not cry during the final conversation I have with him. His blood stains my clothes, and I know with a certainty that I will keep those stains. They will not be scrubbed out or covered up, not for as long as I have anything to do with it.

The first time I had looked into his eyes, his irises the same colour as the amber that binds ancient creatures stuck in time, I looked at them with terror and with hatred. At the time, I only observed the judgement in his eyes, but now, holding my gaze, I see that he has the eyes of a lover, a father, a protector… If only I knew sooner that he needed someone to protect him in return.

“The stars.” He points to them with great difficulty, a difficulty brought on by pain and blood loss. He reaches for the silver pinpricks in the sky, and I look to the space where he points, suddenly reminded that I need to have this last lighthearted conversation with him. I hear him laugh as his head rests in my lap, staring at the sky. “Aren't they gorgeous?”

Nothing feels beautiful in this moment, not when the most remarkable beauty of my life is fading in my hands, not when the future holds only strife and pain, not when the past is full of infuriating blemishes.

“They do not compare…” with a crackling cough, blood spurts from his mouth. I reach to wipe the blood away, but he catches my wrist, insisting still that I do not needlessly dirty my hands. His hand trails into mine, intertwining our fingers. “They do not compare to you, my dearest. Not to flow of your clever words, not to the beauty of your fearless soul.”

“I have many fears,” I correct him, looking back at his pale, sweating face. I had tried to hold my sobs in my throat, to be strong for him in his final moments, but now, I find my tears falling on him like the gentle patter of rain. “One of them is coming true as we speak.”

He grants me a smile, brave yet weak, too weak for my heart to bear. “You have always been one for clever words.” He likes giving me these kinds of compliments, touching words that can never be mimicked or replaced. I ache to think that this may be the last time I hear one of his loving compliments.

“Tell me what I am to do when you are gone.” It is a struggle for me to even speak. “I am afraid I would simply weep for eternity if not given instruction.”

This makes him laugh, and if he was not dying, I would have given him a look so venomous, yet not venomous enough to stop his incessant guffaw. I want him to keep laughing as I hold him. I want him to rise from where he lies, and I want him to stay by my side forevermore.

“If you had not done it already, I would have told you to slay the man who had driven a spear through me, but, since that is out of the way…” his hand squeezes mine, followed by a gentle caress. My tears feel like a storm, and he reaches to hold my face, but he is far too weak to even lift his hands. We do not have much time left. “It feels a crime to give commands to a shining star such as yourself, so weep, my dearest, if that is what you need. Weep for as long as you would like. Weep for eternity, if you must.”

“I have never felt so scared,” I admit. I cannot tell which of us is shaking more. His voice is soft, softer than I have heard it in years, and his hands softer, though sticky with blood. “I need you. I cannot live without you.”

“You must.” He reaches for the spear in his stomach, placed in such a way that he might have a few more minutes with me, but those minutes are disappearing like clouds of breath in the cold. “It is my final wish. Live, no matter how reluctantly. See the world in all its beauty, listen to every song, live the life you wanted to live.”

“You do not understand.” I feel my voice go weak with emotion, and I begin to wish I was slipping into death with him. I take his hand, refusing to let him pull the spear out. It will make no difference; he is practically dead already. “That life would only work with you in it.”

“Then it was never a life worth living,” he declares, and I know he is not trying to put himself down, but rather soothe the ache of my grief. “Life does not have constants. Things will change, always, no matter how slowly, and that is something you must come to terms with, my shining star.”

“I cannot bear this change,” I plead through tears.

“Please, my dearest love,” he only begs in return, and I cannot bring myself to ignore his dying wish. “Please, for me. Live.”

With that, his body goes still, and I am left completely alone with nothing left to do but live.

[sockpuppethistorian]

mourning the life I thought I’d have: part 1- common life paths

Ugh! So I’m aroace.

yeah, yeah, we know this. And more important, I know this.

I think I’ve known it for a lot longer than I like to acknowledge, in fact.

Anyway… I am constantly going through this cyclical process of being okay and settled and relieved to identify as aroace (in my own mind!! labels are to help understand yourself not to help others put you into a box)… and then suddenly being really sad and melancholy and lonely when imagine what the rest of my life is going to look like and how it’s going to differ from pretty much everyone else in my life, in the media… in the world.

And I thought, perhaps I will begin a little self-led series of mourning, and hopefully some forgiveness and lightheartedness for myself.

I think quite honestly one of the biggest struggles for me is seeing the rest of my friends navigating new milestones and continuing on life paths that simply are not ones I will be taking, regardless of what I would have wanted or expected for myself.

It has occurred to me that as kids, the playing field is SOOOO leveled in many senses (and not, in many others, but that’s a story for a different day). Everyone has had pretty similar experiences in regard to milestones and expectations: learn to speak, learn to walk, learn to write, learn to read. Parallel play, play with a friend, develop a best friend. Learn sports, start kindergarten, develop imaginations and the ability and skill required for playing board games or baking or feeding pets. We’re all in that same little boat.

Sure, there’s still people behind and ahead. But I think the margins are much closer together, or at least there’s more of an understanding (at least from my personal experience).

Think of it all like this:

You're a kid. You have friends, playdates, some friends have more in common with you than others, but you all have that little kid common understanding that kids have.

Then middle school hits. And suddenly kids are wanting to “date” each other (which seemed ridiculous to you, given that you are twelve and the only possible way to “date” was to hold hands in the hallway). You suddenly are feeling so outside of this experience, outside of the cluster of preteens wanting to rip out the posters of teen male actors from J-14 to hang up in their lockers, or screaming in the movie theater when Jacob took off his shirt in Twilight (which you literally eye rolled at).

But you think there’s still enough newness to crushes and dating that it’s still fine to be behind. You don’t stick out too much yet.

So then there’s high school. Where everyone— literally everyone— is dating someone, or liking someone, or hoping someone asks them out, or refusing to make plans to go with friends to a dance with the hopes that they end up getting a particular person to invite them. This is more scary. This is more isolating, and it’s still sort of easy to tell yourself that you’re a late bloomer… or perhaps too mature to deal with the silly chaos that is the high school dating scene. In fact, your friends who are navigating dating for the first time begin to refer to you as the Relationship Expert. The one who somehow inexplicably gives the best advice.

You think around this time that maybe you are different and begin to feel afraid of what the future would look like. But so far, nobody's paths had veered too much or were so far gone that you had become an alien, or a piece of childhood left behind (which is what you ultimately feel you became-- a reminder of what your friends were before love and sexuality came to the forefront).

College is really where, looking back, the differences were apparent. You knew you were different, but had no desire to change it and couldn't even fathom finding the time. When you were in college, you took classes, joined clubs, hung out with your friends, got an on-campus job. It did not even occur to you to try to add anything else to this, and it baffled you that so many people who were stressed about classes or club responsibilities or also be trying to find time to date people, or would be going to parties to try to find hookups. Not being interested in dating culture whatsoever allowed for you to very easily have zero interest in drinking or smoking or quite honestly partying of any kind. It was a case of you not knowing what you was missing, quite frankly-- and it was a few years into school before it came to your attention at all that the way you were navigating your college years looked quite different from most others.

But even with all that, college was so chaotic and messy and all over the place that it still didn't feel like you were in a place of being left behind all the way. The glaringly obvious milestones and parts of life that you were missing were present but hidden by the craziness of college. Not going on dates or having any partners, not having sex or hooking up, not needing to talk about birth control or safe sex or buying condoms from the on-campus store.

It's now, in post-grad life, that it feels suddenly even more like you're seeing the way everyone's lives are all beginning to go down different paths, and yours does not align with anyone else's or even your own expectation.

People you're friends with are in long term relationships. They're moving in with their partners and talking about lifelong plans. Some of your friends are married. A few even have B A B I E S. Absolutely mind-blowing.

And now you're not there with them. You begin to fear your own relevance in their lives. How will you relate to your peers once they're all married with kids and you're still in the same place that they all moved on from years ago? You're socially the equivalent of a sheltered twenty-two year old. Independent but almost to a fault. What will happen when they're seeking out couples for double dates, or mom friends for playdates or friends who understand and can join in with commiserating about marriage and parenthood?

What happens when you no longer have any of the same life milestones? What does that even look like?

It feels like being left behind, like being trapped behind a piece of glass while everyone else keeps on going forward on the paths they expected to go on, even if the timeline isn't at the exact ages or years or points that they thought they would be at. Yet for you, it's more that the path you're taking is covered in trees and branches and dirt, barely visible and impossible to see through. Where does it go? Is there any points along the way to reach? Milestones to celebrate? Is there anybody at the end even paving the way or are you supposed to barrel forward with the cement roller?

...

So that's where I'm at. I know I'll be okay, but I wish I knew that me and my friends could have something together again, like when we all first started middle school or high school together, or when we all took SATs or got our first jobs. I can't follow them where they're going.

And I can't shake the feeling of being left behind.

But I will be okay!!! I WILL BE OKAY!!! Just gotta say it to shake off all the other feelings because it's true: I WILL BE OKAY.

[souplawsuit]

this is the sanest I’ve felt but I feel crazy at the same time.

I’m sorry but I can’t be what you want. I can only be what I am becoming.

I’m not here to please you. Come through my place of work with negative energy.. I just wish I could get away from you sooner.

I don’t hate you guys. I don’t feel comfortable with you anymore because I have changed.

Maybe it seems really sudden to you. Maybe you suddenly feel angry that I am different. Do you feel comfortable villainizing me because I have boundaries ?

Have you ever wondered that it’s not just became of you, because nothing is. Everything is a mixture.

I’ve been holding on for so long. I’m ready to let go of some things. I don’t even talk to my therapist anymore because it wasn’t helping anymore.

I don’t feel like the person any of you know anymore. I’m not NOT Greg… but Greg has been unsure for awhile.

This year made me question a lot

I’m tired

The level I’m on is quiet

I want to be simple

This is for me and I’m sorry but not everything is going to be what you want

I am not what you need. I am enough for me and no one else.

I don’t feel like I can be myself.

With you anymore

I never told you about the serious stalking crisis I had because I felt too ashamed

Nothing feels safe anymore

I feel safe with me.

I have thought about this for so long. I spent time scrolling through channels to keep up with everything going on and trying to be at events; but things just never worked out

I couldn’t go to the parties, I wanted to but it happened so much it was weird for me to be there

Everyone is already so close right?

I have become used to being disposable. I am not surprised by this happening

I can’t keep living on this old skin

You say you do care about me and I know you do, I don’t doubt it at all../gen

But do I really feel like one of you?

I haven’t been one of you for a long time, if you haven’t noticed

This almost feels like an admission of evil.. it feels wrong to say how I’ve felt

Maybe you view it as one because you don’t really know me

You never did, I never allowed YOU to know me.

My shield has never come down around you, and that’s for a reason.

It’s very odd what you are doing, I am not scared of your truck

The way you talk… I know myself, yet my sense of doubt, my ability to acknowledge my wrongdoings still goes off. I wanted to see neutrality and stars

Leave me alone please

I know I wanted to delete an app and I know the future is undetermined ..

Don’t demand answers I don’t have

I don’t know why I am who I am. I am not wrong for being this way. I seek solutions. I managed to be your friend for this year and others… let me go

I don’t know everything

I can’t express to any of you who I am

I’m Greg, a flawed person.

You have each other. Live without me.

Don’t make me seem sad or angry in your head because I’m not

I don’t know how to describe what I feel

Don’t demand explanations after I’ve given so many.

Growth isn’t always pleasant

I can’t be what you what because that not me anymore.

I was for awhile and it was real I was that person but I am not anymore

I’ve never felt like a version of Greg that is true. Shaped by what my environment demanded and what I could hide

I don’t need to convince people that I’m not evil, I know who I am and I’m tired of feeling like I need to justify that.

Maybe you liked me at that point because I was lower to the ground, comfortably chained down.

I can’t do that anymore

This feels selfish because it is… this is for the self and no one else.

I am being selfish.

I choose me.

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

When I was seventeen, I met a girl and fell in love. She loved me too, but her family was deeply homophobic and had made her feel ashamed of any love that wasn't for a man. We were together for one beautiful year of promises, romance, and planning of our future before her parents found out I'd given her my high school's Senior ring as a promise we'd get married someday.

Suddenly I stopped hearing from here. I was terrified, panicked, imagining every scary thing I could think of. And two weeks later I get the call. We can't be together anymore. My parents know. They're holding college over my head, and I'm not sure I even want this. It was fun, but being away from you, the intensity fades away, and I can imagine life without you.

I couldn't.

I felt like my life was over. At 17. So I lived my life like it was. I did whatever I wanted, I was reckless and careless with myself and my feelings, and I ran around chasing what felt like good times because at least I wasn't thinking about her anymore.

And then one day I meet this woman. She's wearing a purple shirt and a smile that glows like the sun and I think to myself, she seems like a fun person to waste some hours with. And she is! We laugh and smile, we go out dancing and we stay up all night talking. A whole lifetime passes in six months and suddenly it hits me. I love this woman. And it makes me so angry. Because how could I move on from that first great love? How could I forget what it meant to me and love someone else? How could I just....be happy again?

So I stop texting, and I cry in my dorm room for hours, and wouldn't you know it this wonderful woman with the golden smile shows up at my door and begs me to tell her what's wrong, and then she HOLDS ME while I sob and tell her all about this amazing girl who ran away from me and she says "I would never croticize someone you love, but if she gave you up, that's on her." And she just sits with me, and lets me be sad and mad and in love and hurting and all the things I am, and she loves me anyway.

It's ten years later now and that woman with the golden smile has been my wife for seven of them. We've been through good times and bad, laughter and tears, happiness and hurt, and through it all the one thing that has stayed the same is that we have chosen each other again and again and we do the work to make that choice worthwhile for each of us.

First loves are powerful and you may well carry a part of them in you forever. But there will always be love that chooses you back, every time. It's okay if you get to enjoy a few loves, and wrestle with a few heartbreaks, before you find that.

Hello Mr. gaiman, I need your help, but there's a high chance that you won't see this,

but I'll write the thing I want to say anyway (writing makes me feel better, and lighter, such as a feather).

I'm lonely. I have always been lonely. But two month ago or so, a girl came to the high school I'm study in(I'm also a girl). I...fell in love for the very first time in my life, and she also fell in love with me and confessed her love to me a month ago. I recommended good omens to her, and she loved it(I also do! Can't wait to get an autograph in my beloved good omens copy I own), basically, she was the Crowley to my aziraphale…

Everything was good...until last night. She told me she doesn't think she wants to be like this (both of our families are homophobic, and she's scared), and we can't be 'us' and she just pretended and tested love on me (as if I'm a laboratory sample)... I had a massive panic attack... I'm heartbroken, and I can't talk about it with my family... told her I'll give her time to think…she apologised, but her apology is not enough, I'm afraid. She's the only one for me... Not only that, but I want and need her love.

What shall I do? God is not helping me at all... no one is helping me, I'm lost. I just want everything to be good! I never said a bad thing to her, I was the kindest, I was her angel (yes she used to call me that) and now...we had a break-up.

There are no break-ups as bad as high school break ups. There are no highs and no lows as hard as what happens when your heart is held and your heart is broken then. And right now your heart is broken.

I can't give you advice on the person or even about dealing with your homophobic families, other than to keep yourself safe, and to hang in there.

What I can say is, it will be okay and you will be okay. You will find your person or your people, you will find yourself, you will find your world. This isn't the end of anything, it's just a stumble on the road.

[k4g3hika]

RUNAWAY PRINCESS ━ multi part-imagine!

eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: sit tight and be pretty, was what your parents always told you. follow the rules, and your life will run smoothly. but given the chance to run away with your forbidden lover, you just have to choose what makes you happy. even, if it puts either of your lives at stake.

genre: fluff/angst

wc: 1884

note/warnings: mentions of being slapped and jason. this is part 2! i hope you guys enjoy:) one more part after this one.

part one can be found here

Your eyes flutter open to reveal the room in which you lay. Rubbing them together to gain clarity, you take notice that this room was familiar. 

It was your room. 

Laboured breaths fell from your lips and you begin to panic. 

Why were you here? How did you get here?

Where is Eddie?

You jump up from the bed, and rush to the door, attempting to open it. The knob wouldn’t budge, prompting you to cry before checking the window. It was locked as well. 

Everything seemed normal. All your stuff was still in the same place, nothing was shifted from its place. Your head was beginning to process what could’ve possibly happened to interrupt your escape. 

All you can remember is going to Eddie’s house, and it suddenly becoming harder to breathe. 

Immediately, the lock of your door begins to move, making you jump in your place. It pushes open, revealing Chrissy, shyly carrying a tray with water and food. 

“Chrissy? What-why…what’s going on?” She simply shakes her head, looking at you solemnly before putting the tray down on a nearby table. Rushing over to you, she hugs your head to her chest. 

“I’m so sorry my princess. No words can clarify how sorry I am for you.” 

What?

Trying to push her away, Chrissy holds you down tighter not wanting to reveal her tear-stricken face. She couldn’t explain it to you, not yet at least. She couldn’t find it in herself to tell you what happened. 

“Chrissy, tell me. What happened?” Covering her mouth to muffle her sobs, she only shook her head more. Fear begins to course through your veins and you join her in her crying session. “Please, Chrissy, tell me what happened.” 

“No, no, I can’t. You’re not-” then, the door is barged through, your head immediately lifting up to see who came inside. Chrissy gasps and rushes out, not before bowing to who just entered your room. “Your majesty.”

“Yes, thank you for everything Chrissy. You may continue your duties.” The blond gives her a sickenignly, sweet smile. Feeling shivers run down your spine, you move back as he made his way towards your cowering figure on the bed. “Well, Princess Y/N, you’ve grown more beautiful than last I’ve seen you.”

He begins to caress your face with his free hand, forcing you to shift your head away from his grasp. Not liking this, Jason aggressively grabs onto your cheeks. Whimpering, he sneers, and pushes your face away to the side. 

“But you’ve earned such a nasty personality.”

“Jason, what are you doing here?” 

“I’m meeting my bride to be. What else in the world would I be doing?” Jason chuckles, looking around the room and sighing. Walking up to your portrait on the wall, his reflection revealed a smile. 

But you weren’t sure if it was towards you, or the crown that sat prettily atop your head. 

“You know, I was pretty surprised amidst my arrival. Me, expecting to see the future queen of Hawkins greet her future king. And guess what I encounter instead? A measly chambermaid, telling me that you ran away.”

Chrissy told him? You couldn’t believe your ears. Feeling your heart drop down to your feet, the weight of your tears only increased and the air seemed to have become thicker. You couldn’t breathe, finding out that you were caught. 

“No, Jason-”

“And, I’m not done sweetheart, I find out that you run away with a herb-grower? A poor and dirty herb-grower.”

“You don’t speak about him that way!” Jumping up, you speedily walk over to him to land a palm to his chiseled face, but instead, your wrist was greeted with a tight grip. You try to push it harder, wanting to slap him with all the strength you have but instead he quietly laughed under his breath. 

“You’re so protective over him. Too bad that there’s nothing for you to defend.” You suck in a breath.

What did Jason mean by that?

“What are you talking about Jason?” His laughs increase in volume, pulling you closer to him by your wrist. 

“What am I talking about princess? What do you expect me to do when I find that a peasant, plans to kidnap my bride?”

“You’re delusional! He wasn’t going to kidnap me you fool! I love him-” Then, a loud slap, echoes between the walls, and you were forcefully pushed to the side. Gasping for air, your eyes widen, looking up. 

“You need to learn how to shut your mouth and watch who you’re talking to. I am your husband, and I protect my family-”

“Your idea of family can burn in hell! You’re insane Carver! What did you do to Eddie-”

“Edward is rotting in the dungeon! As what he should be doing!” You cry out loud, shaking your head to deny his claim. Your weakness begins to amuse Jason, as a joyous smile grows on his face. “I’ll make sure that he’s staying there for the rest of his life.”

“You can’t!”

“Oh but I can. As the new king of Hawkins, I can do anything I want.” Laughing out loud, Jason steps over you, walking to the basin to wash his hands. 

You didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t what you had in mind. You didn’t want to marry this terrible man. 

You wanted Eddie. Eddie your love, the man you were supposed to be with right now, travelling through the countryside to find the house he spoke dreamily of. The house where you were going to raise your children. 

Eddie, you want Eddie. 

But you also don’t want Eddie to die. To continue living with knowing that Eddie died because of you, would eat you alive until you took your last breath. Eddie didn’t deserve to die for your sake. 

Though love is strong, you don’t believe it’s worse than him finding happiness. 

Even if it wasn’t with you. 

“Jason, please let him go.”

“Not a chance princess.” Running over to him, you grip onto his arm, pleading him. “Oh?”

“Please Jason. Release Eddie, and I won’t ever see him again. I’ll marry you, continue your lineage, but please. Just let him go.” His eyes seem to soften at your tears, prompting him to turn around. You felt the creeps while his hands raised up to caress your wet cheeks, and you fought the urge within yourself to pull away from his touch. “Please Jason.”

“Well, how can I say no to that? I’ll only release him if you’ll marry me, with no problems.”

What’s important to you is that Eddie will be happy. Surely he’ll find someone else for him, though it breaks your heart to admit. 

“I will.”

—

You wanted one last visit with Eddie. 

You didn’t care if Jason didn’t approve your visit. You just needed a last one. To say goodbye. 

Walking up to the Munson house, you didn’t know if he wanted to see you. You wouldn’t want to see him if he put you through what you did to him. 

But maybe this will finally be your chance. You can finally run. 

The sun shone brightly, highlighting the herbs that stood tall in front of his house. 

And you then felt relief. 

There stood Eddie, wiping his forehead dry from the sweat that littered his body. You wanted to cry. 

Eddie made you happy. Even the sight of him made you want to cry just from how beautiful he was. Even with the dirt, sweat, and grime, he was still far more handsome than any other prince in the kingdom. 

“Princess?” Sobbing, you nod slowly and Eddie ran up to your stature, dropping whatever was in his hands to see you. His arms were raised, as if he was to give you a hug, but instead, his arms slowly fell down to his sides. You only cry more, seeking his touch as much as he did, but you knew better. 

“Eddie, I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.” He only nods, sliding his hands down his face. “I’m sorry I caused you-”

“Y/N, don’t apologize for what happened. It was expected, I-I should’ve known better than to strip you of your responsibilities.” Shaking your head, you reach to hold onto his face, but he only pulls his head away from your hands. “We can’t.”

“Eddie…take me with you, please. Let’s go. We can go now. There’s no one behind me, where’s your uncle’s carriage?”

“Y/N-”

“Let’s go now Eddie! We can run!”

“Y/N! Stop!” 

Why? Why won’t he agree?

Eddie huffs, walking away from you. Pleadingly, you walk after him, begging him to take you away. You couldn’t bear to be married to Jason, you can only imagine your life with him. 

It was selfish. But your happiness was what stood as important to you right now. 

“Eddie, please. Please take me with you.” 

“You know I can’t Y/N. Jason,”

“Oh, Jason, fuck him-”

“Y/N! I don’t love you enough to sacrifice my life! Jason said he would kill my uncle! Why would I take you just for him to kill my uncle! You can’t be selfish Y/N, you’re not the only person in the world! Think about-”

“But why? You said-”

“God, Y/N?! Please! Just, go.” Eddie strides towards his door, holding it firmly in his grasp. “Just let us go.”

“No, Eddie…don’t do this to me.”

Eddie fought every desire in him to turn around, knowing that if he was to, he wouldn’t be able to deny your request. 

Eddie wanted to run away with you. But he knew, that your lives would be at risk where ever you turned. 

Jason wouldn’t stop at trying to find you. 

And for some reason, he knew that your life would just be better. Without him. 

You would be comfortable, being able to live your lavish life. He didn’t need to take that away from you. 

“You have to get back to your husband, your majesty.” Eddie slams the door behind him, firmly locking it to block you from coming inside. Standing before the door, you can only cry silently, begging any God out there in the universe to somehow change his mind. 

He wasn’t telling the truth. Jason told him what to say. 

You needed to know why, why he was saying ‘no’ to running away with you. You thought that…you thought that he would agree. Subsequently, you hear a sniffle coming from the otherside.

“Eddie…I know you’re still behind the door.”

Even if he didn’t want to run with you, you at least wanted to properly say goodbye.

“But…just promise me you’ll find someone that makes you happy just as much as you’ve made me happy. I love you, Edward Munson. And,” you sob, “and, even if, you don’t love me…I’ll always hold the same feelings for you, till I grow old and on my death bed. You deserve love like that, even if it won’t be from me. 

I hope in our next life, we won’t have the same troubles. I hope…I hope that, the universe will grace us with luck, and bless you to me. I love you, thank you,” 

You can’t say it. You can’t. 

“And goodbye, my love.”

In our next life, Edward Munson.

TAGS:

@crunchcake @buckwbarnz @bookobsessedfreak

[plush-rabbit]

The Dateable's Making You Flustered

Request: Flustered scenarios with the dateables

A/N: Sorry for the bit of delay!! I really need to work faster with these (1k each)

-

Barbatos:

It’s been such a long time ever since the butler has felt some sort of attraction towards somebody. It surprises even himself and he’s able to see into the future. Yet, when he was given- or rather forced- into a day off, the first place where his mind had wandered had been to you. It was you that he thought of first. He didn’t have a clue on what he wanted to do, but when he was told that he had the day off- no exceptions- his mind had automatically gone to spending time with you. Barbatos wonders what changed that made you so important to him- he wonders when it happened, how it snuck past him and caught him by surprise.

He invited you on his day off, had sent you a quick message asking you’d like to accompany him around Devildom to pick up a few things for himself rather than the usual outing to the market. You had graciously agreed and now he stands beside you, his hand on a book and you peering to see what’s written on it.

“What’s the book about?” You ask, haven given up on trying to figure out what it was that had gotten his attention.

A few demons reach around and pull a book away from the shelf, talking excitedly to one another and he moves to stand closer to you. He smiles at you and holds the book close to him, already deciding to purchase it. “It’s an old tale from Devildom, similar to your Hansel and Gretal but this one is a bit more heavy.” You give out a hum, pleased at his answer and nod your head. “If you’d like, I could lend it to you once I’m done.”

“Oh!” You gasp, grabbing at the same book and holding towards you. “I’ll just take one with me,” you offer and he can’t help but feel a little disappointed that you didn’t want to take his. “This way, we can read at the same time and then discuss. If it’s supposed to be similar to Hansel and Gretal, I’m sure that I’ll enjoy it. Plus-” you look up at him, your smile kittenish the book pulled to your chest- “it can be like our secret book club. I’ve been needing an excuse to go to the castle and visit, so this will be perfect,” you say excitedly, see-sawing between the tips of your shoes and back to your soles.

“You don’t need an excuse to visit the castle.” He hooks his arm with yours, slowly pushing you away from where a growing crowd of demons appear. “You know you’re always welcomed. The Young Lord would never dare to shut the door in your face.” He stops near the corner end of the store, his eyes attracted to a few trinkets where he reaches for.

The book is lowered and you shift your stare to where you both once stood. “And you?” His attention is grabbed immediately and he looks at you with a confused stare. You meet his eyes for a moment before you pull away. “Would you mind if I came over?” You clear your throat and look down, your bottom lip pinched between your teeth. “I wouldn’t want to…” you trail off, clearly unable to find the proper words. “I wouldn't want to distract you or make your work any more difficult than it already is.”

He can feel the back of his neck grow hot. He can’t be mistaken by what your words mean. You want to know what he thinks of you, if you’re welcomed in his eyes. His shoulders lower and he smiles at you, his hand reaching out to take your book from your hands. When you look up at him, he has his gaze kept on the title of the book, following the rise and fall of each letters.

“You’re always welcomed.” He takes in a small breath and fixes his gaze back to you. “You could never be a distraction for me. If you wish to have a secret book club with me, then I am more than honored to be your guest.” He clears his throat and looks away from you, his smile slowly growing but wavering as he lets out a shaky breath. “You make work easier. I enjoy my job, but I must say that when you’re around, the only thing I can think of is finishing in order to spend more time with you. Being around you is… nice.” He returns his stare back to you. “I’ve been around for a very long time, but when you’re around me, well, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so young. I’m not sure what it is about you-” he raises a hand and holds your cheek- “but I find myself happy whenever I’m with you. So please, never think that you are a bother towards me. You’re always free to visit- whether it be for our secret book club-” he returns the book to you, smiling when your fingertips brush against his- “or just because, I’ll always make time for you.”

It might be cruel of him, but he can’t help but smile and let out a quiet chuckle when you press your face against the book. “Barbatos,” you say in a hushed whisper. He only hums in response, glad that his words had such an effect on you. You look up at him with a faux pout and furrow of your brows while he stands there with a wide grin. Your eyes turn away from him and you finally let a smile appear. “Thanks for the reassurance,” you mutter.

“Of course. Nothing that I said was a lie, so it was quite easy to let the words out, you know,” he teases, grabbing the book from you before you have another chance to hide yourself. “Now, is there anything else you’d like to see in the store, or do you wish to go somewhere else?”

“I uh-” still flustered, you rub your cheek where his hand once was- “can we check out the manga section?”

He hooks his arm through yours, his body close enough to where he can smell the sweet scent of your perfume. “Lead the way,” he says, following your footsteps through the store. He isn’t sure when his feelings towards you had changed, he doesn’t even recall the giddiness of when it all started, but he doesn’t mind it. It’s a nice change of pace. You’re something unpredictable and reckless, and something soft and fragile, and he welcomes having you so close to him, to where he could lean over and press his lips against the crown of your head and keep you protected under his touch. Barbatos welcomes the change that you brought and while the change wasn’t originally for him, he enjoys that it is for him now, that you’re the one that gets to be close to him and that gets to have the pleasure of having you wanting to visit him.

Simeon:

Who could have ever thought that he, an angel, would fall in love with a human? The very thing that an angel had created a war for, the very thing that caused him to lose those close to him, and the very thing that had shown just how different he was from someone he had considered a brother, he now commits the same unholy act. He must be a hypocrite. He is a hypocrite. The very thing he turned a blind eye to and here he is, so undoubtedly in love with a human that he fears his wings will be ripped from him, his blood staining his clothes and his halo broken beyond repair. Terror makes his blood run cold and yet, he cannot look away from you. Simeon keeps his gaze upon you with a mixture of hesitation and melancholy and you just smile back at him, the phone in your hand shared between the two of you as you watch a parody of a teen romance on an application.

“It’s amazing how much people have grown to like this er, show?” He asks, still unsure of what to call it. “It’s considered a show, right?”

Your shoulders raise in a shrug and you give him a small, tight lipped smile. “I guess. I think most people refer to it as a series.” The phone is lowered and it returns to your lap. “It isn’t wrong to call it a show, but since they’re short little bursts of episodes, I think people find it easier to call it a series, but it can go any way.” You move away from him, scooting until your thigh is at an angle and your knee is pushed against his. “Anyways, to answer your question, yes people do like it. I think since it’s like a parody but also suspenseful with the cliffhangers, it keeps people entertained.” He nods his head slowly, and he tries to ignore the rush of cold that is now at his empty side. “Did you like it?”

His eyes slightly widen, and his lips pull into a thin smile. “I- Well, considering the fact that it’s written and done by one person- I- It certainly is different than the things I usually consume, but-” He struggles to find a way to finish his thought without offending you in any sort of way and ends with a stiff nod of his head.

It’s a tense moment that doesn’t last long enough to linger on when you suddenly laugh. Your laugh is loud as it effectively gets him to snap his mouth shut. Your hands are waved in front of you and your knee leaves his as you curl onto the couch. “You don’t have to force yourself to like it, Simeon, I only wanted to show it to you, because you asked what I was watching.”

He appreciates you giving him an easy out, and he releases a breath he hadn’t known he had been holding. It’s a slow release and suddenly he can breathe again. “Well thank you for sharing it with me. I appreciate that from you.” Silence lingers and it isn’t like before where it’s tense, it’s lighter now, but it still feeds him an odd sense of air where he’s stuck between a breath, his eyes stuck on you.

Once more, your laughter fills the room and it’s short and sweet, a gift given to him for just the moment. “Of course, Simeon. I like spending time with you, and I especially like sharing my interests so I guess, thank you for allowing me to do that.” Your hand reaches towards his and he sees the slightest pause from you, the way your fingers twitch until you allow yourself to hold his hand and give it a gentle squeeze.

Warmth returns to him, something akin to a summer’s day in the Celestial Realm, and even though all air has left him once again, he is breathless in a way that matters, weightless and joy illuminating him. When he meets your eyes, he cannot look away and he cannot help but return your smile. The clock ticks onwards and he’s left with a heavy heart. He’s read about the perfect moment, thought about writing something so trivial and false, and yet, the perfect moment sits before him with their hand in his.

“I have to be honest with you,” he murmurs and his eyes feel hot, a lump forms in his throat that makes his words sound tighter. “I- I don’t-” How could he ever phrase what he wants to tell you? How could he drop that sort of confession on you? You know the story, would you ever want him to actually confess to you, to repeat the past mistakes and know the horrid outcome? He frowns. His eyes are stuck on the floor, running along the edge of the carpet and he can feel your gaze on him, your eyes that are heavy with concern and ever the angel, Simeon spares you and gives you the easier answer. “I’m thankful to have met you,” your name is a sweet whisper on his lips, a taste of sweet peach that makes his heart full and heavy. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as wonderful as you. I see you and I think that I’ve found something even more pure than an angel.” With every word, his hand turns to slip into yours, his gloves thin enough to feel the small crevices and calluses on your hand. “Even if you are human and you’ve committed sin, I still think that you are the most pure of them all with your kindness and generosity.”

He isn’t sure what he had expected, but he hadn’t expected to have you plant your face against the soft back cushion of the couch, your face held there for moments. Your hand slips away from his and he’s left holding empty air. His hands fret over your body and when you pull away, your face is flushed, your hands covering the lower part of your face as you look at anywhere but him.

“Simeon,” you whine, closing your eyes tightly. “That’s really sweet.” Your voice is high-pitched and your eyes open once more, as your hands finally lower. “I think I might actually die, that was really nice and something that I don’t hear often.” You finally look at him and your smile is ever growing. “Especially from an angel,” you say with a half-hearted chuckle.

His smile is soft and to him, it dulls compared to your brilliance. As if you were a puzzle, he fits into your hand with ease and grace. “Well if you were to die, I would return you in any way that I could.

Solomon:

He’s human, ageless and immortal, but human. He’s lived and loved, lost and grieved, and he’s gone numb and distant to emotions. He didn’t mind it, he welcomed it. He hated losing and hated the people that he lost and the empty space that they left. He promised that he wouldn’t ever want to feel that sense of sadness ever again. Then you came into the picture. He’s been called shady and worse words than that, but you don’t call him that. You hold his hand and you welcome him into your arms. You go on and on about the human in him and how you love that he’s there with you. Solomon isn’t sure when it was that he broke his own promise, but when he looks at you, he’s willing to love again and again.

The kitchen is a mess and powder covers the counters. His hands knead the dough and the smell of garlic and onion sizzled with oil is heaven in the air. You measure the ingredients and whisk at the eggs. It’s domestic and it’s something that leaves a storm of butterflies in his stomach. He could watch you forever, in the kitchen, with an apron tied around your waist, flour in your hands and the tip of your tongue peaking past your lips as you concentrate on rereading the cookbook. It’s domestic and it’s something he had long forgotten that he wanted.

“I have the ingredients memorized, I could simply tell you what to add,” he muses, returning to forming the bread into its shape.

“Knowing you, you’ll add something in there,” you quip, your smile now directed at him, with your tongue still pinched out. “Plus, it’s just reading. I can read,” you say with a defensive tone. “Just start dressing the bread with garlic and then we can get on with breading the chicken.” You jerk your head to where the chicken rests on the cutting board, the flour beside it.

“Okay,” he sings under his breath, returning his attention to the dough before him. The room is filled with a song from the Human Realm, a classic that has him feeling warmth in a kitchen that is not his, but with a person that is. It makes him long for another time, but when he catches you in the corner of his eye, he’s glad where he is. “I like your song choice,” he says, instantly biting the inside of his cheek once the words had left his mouth. It’s been so long since he’s ever tried to have an actual connection with someone, and he’s sure he wasn’t ever this awful at it.

“Yeah?” You step close to him, holding your hand out. “Care for a dance then?” Your smile is crooked and eyes gleaming with excitement as the song is replayed with a touch of your hand.

He’s frozen for a second, stuck in time, and rooted into place, his hand moving through thick amber as he lets his hand rest in your palm. The room is spun, colors mixing with each other and slowly blurring until he stands still, pushing you away and pulling you close, laughing and letting his hand rest against your side, his hand feeling the soft curve against your ribs. Your hands are powdered and his smell like bread, and your laugh is young and youthful. He can’t help but follow, letting his smile break out and hand slipping out of yours, to encase you in a hug where he traps you into a swaying motion.

The song fades and he’s forced to pull away, to step away from you and there’s hesitation is his steps and movements. His hands linger for a second too long, his eyes still stuck on you and his smile much softer than it was before. It’s a few seconds of silence where you take in deep, heavy breaths, and sway lightly to the song that approaches.

Your name is said and it’s sweet like honeysuckle and addicting like a drug. It’s a night where he invited you over, and now you two are busy making dinner in the kitchen and you’ve given him instructions and kept a close eye on what he does. Your perk your head and nod, allowing for him to continue. “Thank you for coming over,” he says with a tight smile on his lips.

“Anytime, Sol,” you respond, coming beside him once more. You bump your arm into his, leaning to look at the garlic mixture in a bowl. “You know I like spending time with you, so anytime you need a cooking partner, you can always call.”

He doesn’t say anything, only nodding and trying to keep the butterflies in his stomach at bay while his heart beats frantically against his chest. You move away from him, returning to where the powder rests in a bowl and he’s left without, and while the distance is short, it’s something that is unwelcomed. He’s left with dough in his hands and you’re away from him, and loneliness settles.

“Can I call you whenever?” He asks, an easy smile on his lips, but there’s a plea in his words. He’s never been the needy type, but he needs you.

“Of course, you can,” you respond and you’re as kind as ever. You turn away and close the bag of flour, pushing it aside to clear the space at the table.

Like a drug that leaves his mouth dry and heart racing, feeling as if he’s about to die, he calls your name. You’re so close to him and yet, you aren’t close enough. He needs you. He needs you beside him. And he takes the first step, standing in front of you with a red kissed face as stares at the cabinets against the wall. You call his name and your hand is tender against his neck, leaving a white stain that snows onto his shirt.

“I just wanted to thank you. I know how busy you can get and I just-” he can feel the telltale sign of tears and he wonders when he’s gotten so emotional- “I like spending time with you. I like your music choices and I like it when you cook with me- even if it’s just you giving me instructions- but I like it.” His tongue touches against his lips and he looks at you, fiddling with the end of his shirt. “I think you’re great and I just need you to know that if you ever need anything, I’ll be more than happy to help. I would do whatever it would take to make you happy because you have a really nice smile and I don’t think you should lose that.” His heart echoes and his smile is gentle and nervous. “Thank you for being with me.”

You stare at him and he wonders if he had overstepped only to gasp when you bury yourself against his chest, patting at his shoulder and pulling away with a hand covering the lower half of your face. “Solomon,” his name leaving your lips sends a jolt of electricity through him, “I’m glad. Thank you,” you whisper. Your hand reaches to pull his away from his shirt and you hold it in yours. “I like being with you too. Us humans have to stick together, right?” You say softly, letting your fingers run over his scarred knuckles.

He nods silently and leans over, his lips pressed against your forehead. “Yeah, us humans have to stick together,” he whispers against you, smiling when he feels your own lips against his knuckles. He’s with you, at this very moment, he stands in a kitchen with music playing, holding you close to him, and for a moment, he can pretend that this won’t ever end, that he won’t ever have to move away from you and risk losing you.

[whoacanada]

(Hey, look! That Zimbits AU where Jack goes into PR after retiring from the NHL and NHL!Bitty comes looking for advice about coming out!)

“Your ten-o-clock, remember?” April gestures to the conference room with her pen. “The cutie the Hurricanes coughed up for Pride Night outreach? He’s here.”

Jack tugs down the blinds with a cautious finger and zeroes in on the handsome blonde sitting awkwardly at one end of their large conference table, conspicuously alone. “There’s always suits for outreach talks,” Jack hazards, looking back at his receptionist over his shoulder. “They never send players alone.”

“It’s what we’ve got on the books. Eric Bittle, Carolina Hurricanes. No plus ones.” April whispers, checking her calendar. “Well? Get in there, Boss; and buckle up, he’s got an accent.”

.

Eric Bittle looks up, his dark brown eyes wide and unfairly attractive as Jack extends his hand, Bittle rising to take it. Everything about Bittle is polished and perfected; suit tailored, hair coiffed so neatly Jack would posit he’d gone in to have it trimmed before he’d arrived this morning. He’s pulled together so tightly, in fact, that Jack can’t find any loose threads, and if he remembers his time in The Show correctly, no loose threads means Mr. Bittle’s probably hiding something.

“Eric? I’m Jack Zimmermann. It’s great to meet you.”

“Oh, I know who you are,” Bittle chuckles, and Jack’s heart would skip a beat if he wasn’t so certain there’s a huge piece of context still missing from this meeting. “It’s still very nice to meet you in person.”

“So, tell me about Pride Night,” Jack pops the button on his suit jacket and settles down across the table. “What, exactly are the ‘Canes thinking about doing that involves you coming to see us?”

Bittle bites his lip briefly, gaze darting off before coming back to settle on Jack, and Jack is reminded of so many media training sessions it’s like he’s back in Vegas again.

“I may have, ah, fudged the reason for my visit a bit. Yes, we have Pride Night coming up, yes I’m the designated sacrifice, but I’m more here on personal business.”

Jack eases the tip of his pen from the legal pad, recognizing an off-the-record admission is coming. “How personal?” He questions. “Are we talking potential legal trouble or just potential social trouble? Or no trouble at all.”

“I’m gay.” Bittle says plainly. “Whatever trouble that may be. My team knows it, my family knows it, and I want to come out — I need to come out — and I can’t mess it up.”

Jack is grateful for his game face, reaching for the coffee carafe near him to couch his surprise and no small measure of his excitement. “Oh, you mean like I did?” Jack jokes, earning a soft smile.

“No active player has come out since you retired,” Eric skirts Jack’s comment, taking the mug before gingerly amending, “Not voluntarily, at least. I’d like to break that streak. Given your experience, and what you do now, it seemed like the smart move to come speak with you.”

“Well, I’ll be the first to admit my behavior didn’t lend itself to much confidence with the public at large, but that’s why I’m where I am today. Making sure people like you can learn from my mistakes.”

“And you made a lot of mistakes,” Bittle murmurs, taking the mug from Jack gingerly, glances back out the window as he takes a sip, and Jack fights a smile when he realizes what’s happening.

“Are you . . . chirping me?”

“Makes me less nervous,” Bittle admits, apologetic. “But that was rude, I’m sorry.”

Bittle’s eyes are bright. His smile is bright. Everything about him is warm, inviting. Jack might be biased, though, he’s always had a soft spot for compact blondes.

“Don’t apologize.” Jack leans back in his chair, feeling lighter than he has in weeks. “You might be the only one in the whole league right now that doesn’t need to apologize.”

“I think I need to have a partner,” Eric clears his throat. “I can’t come out without a reason, otherwise what’s the point.”

“That answers one of my first questions, gives us a place to start. Yes, a boyfriend gets you points, but not in the way you’re thinking. If you come out with a guy on your arm, the story becomes maintaining the relationship, not that you have one or that you are ‘out’ at all. The scandal is the relationship falling apart, or you flirting with a fan when you have your partner at home, that kind of drama.”

“And if I just say, ‘hello, I am a homosexual’ people will think I’m promiscuous, or just trying to get laid.”

“Maybe. Are you?”

Bittle’s expression turns indignant, lips twisting into a judgmental frown that reminds Jack of his grandmother before a scolding.

“What kind of question is that? Yes, of course, but they don’t need to know that. But that doesn’t — You know, you gave me hope?”

Jack doesn’t quite startle, he’s well beyond the jumpyness of his youth, but he has no clue where this conversation is about to go.

“When you came out, when you were drafted, your cup season . . . every time you succeeded, beat the odds, it made me think, maybe, I could do it, too. I could be a professional athlete, I could play hockey, and it didn’t matter who I wanted to be with.”

Jack knows there’s a ‘but’ coming, he can feel it; so he gets there first.

“But . . . then I overdosed.”

“Then you retired.” Eric corrects. “Two years before I signed with Carolina, and you just gave up. I was going to be the first out NCAA men’s hockey captain, you ‘retired’ in scandal, and suddenly the trustees didn’t want the attention. Back to square one.”

“Eric, I wasn’t well.” Jack defends gently, knowing Bittle isn’t trying to be cruel.

“You let them get to you! You were supposed to be untouchable. I needed you to be untouchable.”

“Eric.”

“I’m sorry,” Bittle looks down at his hands, the table, anywhere but Jack. “I genuinely didn’t intend for any of this to come up so quickly, you’ve been nothing but charming and here I am dumping all my baggage on you like we’ve been talking for years . . . ”

“It’s actually alright. I’ve made peace with what happened to me, what I put myself through, and I wasn’t kidding that I’m very intent on making sure I can help others avoid the same pitfalls. So, what do you need from me right now?” Jack asks, genuinely curious. “An apology? A hug? You wouldn’t be the first to ask.”

“I want . . .” Bittle huffs, closing his eyes and evening his breathing. “I want dinner.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I’ve loved the idea of you since I was sixteen, but now I actually need your advice on how to do this without losing my mind, and I can’t plan my future from a boardroom, so, I want you to take me to dinner. I want to hash this out like two normal, well functioning adult men. Also, maybe alcohol.”

“Speak for yourself on the well-functioning part,” Jack chirps himself, “but I think dinner can be arranged. I assure you, you’ll have my full support moving forward. The firm’s, as well.”

Bittle’s lips quirk, holding Jack’s gaze. He caught the slip, and now there’s nothing to do but own it. They lapse into a gentle silence. Jack sipping his coffee, Bittle doing the same. Jack isn’t sure what he’s waiting for, the puck is at the end of his stick. He flashes a smile. Bittle blushes.

“So,” Jack begins. “Do you like Burmese?”

____

They part ways and April’s eyes are huge with suspicion. “Should we discuss fees?” she asks. “Do we need to start billing? Sounds like it went well.”

“Nah, we’ll talk later about payment,” Jack replies, folding his jacket over his arm, hiding the slip of paper with Bittle’s personal number and trying not to stare as the forward walks away. “I have a strong feeling I might be handling this pro bono.”

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

“Holding The Entire World In Your Arms”

⌚WARNING⌚ This is just some random rambling LOL, containing spoilers from unreleased contents~ :>

Most of my rambling and fangirling usually don’t make it to my blog as I mostly tend to be more active on twitter and discord haha~

But–– this thought that suddenly hit me two days back somehow actually made me sit down and try to enlist this rambling on tumblr as well in a not-so-very articulate manner skfkskl LOL 💀

—

[it’s important to read the date since I’m not providing any context LOL]

The link of the date translation: Here💘

—

Those of you who are familiar with Victor’s contents, it’s no surprise that “holding hands” is practically Victor x MC’s lifeline haha~

And MC brings this to a whole new level when she says in the date—

“A long, long time ago. The first time you held my hand, I was bound to you right away.”

–

Snippet from S1 CH 4 MC’s dream sequence:

—

Now that throwback to 泽言哥哥 skfkskl

💘 • The significance of 泽言哥哥 ⁄(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

🎥 • Cilp of little MC calling little Victor 泽言哥哥 🥺

—

Anyway, moving on, next is the “hug,” or to be more precise – they both LOVE wrapping their arms around each other’s waist  ⁄(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

To be honest, the word “Love” seems like an understatement when you realize that the current counting of Victor x MC’s “arms around the waist karma” alone is 26 (it’s 27 if we count the shower karma too LOL).

However, in all of them, either Victor has his arms around MC’s waist, or it’s the other way around, except for one karma.

It’s his 5th birthday karma. In this one, they both have their arms wrapped around each other’s waist at the same time. This also perfectly symbolizes the gist of his birthday date––

MC’s grand confession, followed by Victor’s, and the both of them re-validating how the other person is their entire world.

–

The concluding remarks of their confession—

“I don’t have the whole world to give you. I only have myself. My most direct feelings, my unreserved heart, and my determination to bring you happiness infinite number of times.”

“This is an invitation. I don’t know how I can arrange you into my future, and this is the only way that I can think of. When one is used to being accompanied by someone, to being taken care of by someone, to being valued by someone, they will unavoidably become spoiled. Not only will they want it for every moment in the present, but they will want it for every moment in the future as well.”

More on “The World” (MC’s monologues):

Even if it is insignificant, I still want to give this person who has led me through the darkness countless times, a path of light sufficient to illuminate the curtain of night. I don’t know how many times I have gazed into his eyes and quietly told him about my greatest wish.

Victor, do you know… what a grand miracle it is to have you in this world.

Just like in that very moment he appeared in my life, sun shone through the cracks and fresh flowers bloomed in the wilderness. Since then, every curtain of night I have seen has magnificent stars. And, every daybreak that I have waited for, the first glimmer of dawn has filled the entire landscape.

—

Also,

MC’s single white rose in the form of a love letter––

When a single rose is given to someone you’ve been with for a long time, it means “You’re still the one” and white rose symbolizes “marriage”, also known as the “wedding rose”~

—

Needless to mention,

This date was the starting point of the unbroken escalating streak of Victor contents we’ve gotten so far, followed by—

them signing a new contract as business partners and taking on major projects together i.e. not just saying the words, but actually taking the actions towards building their future together 📝🚀

then “THE PROPOSAL,” which truly couldn’t be more perfect 🥺💍

and them moving in together, decorating their own home and everything—— 👩‍❤️‍👨🏡

All in all,

This karma practically is the visual representation of “holding your entire world in your arms” 😭💘🤲

–

ON A SIDE NOTE: EVERYTHING aside, I still am not over how MC literally arranged an exclusive drone show just for him. JUST LIKE THE CN FANS DO ON HIS BIRTHDAY EVERY YEAR HNNNGNNNNN 😭🤲

ALSO,

The word “gnomeshgh” in the karma refers to the tenderness you feel when someone shares an idea, a photo, a song, a passage etc., accompanied by a note that conveys that you were the face that came to the forefront of their mind when this thing first occupied their senses – that you’ve organically nestled your way into this other person’s cortices so that they no longer just sees remote objects in time and space, but rather a set of associations that lead back to you – recovering you once again from the self inflicted fallacy of aloneness.

THIS IS JUST SO VICTOR x MC!!!! AND IT JUST RE-VALIDATES EVERYTHING I RAMBLED ON SO FAR ಥ‿ಥ

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