#suffer with my shitty caption

[amjustagirl]

chapter 4

pairing: hoshina soshiro x f! reader

genre: romance, angst

wc: 5k

summary: you've loved soshiro since you were seven. he will always place his duty above you.

chapt 1 / chapt 2 / chapt 3 / chapt 4 / chapt 5

When you blink open your eyes, you find yourself back in the Hoshina family estate. 

The garden is exactly as you remember it. Bonsai trees, neatly manicured. The white gravel ocean raked with ripple lines. Heat shimmers off the ground, harsh summer sun bearing down on the tiled roof. A young man with dark hair and sad, violet eyes sits across you. 

“Soshiro”, you cry, fumbling to your feet. 

He looks right through you even when you’re standing right before him. 

He’s wearing the navy hakama he reserves for formal occasions, the family crest embroidered in gold thread on the back, a ceremonial katana strapped to his hip. Something’s about to happen, you realise, the compound bustling with servants carrying paper lanterns. No one pays you any notice as you float behind him down the familiar corridors of the house, a ghost. 

His father approaches, severe lines running through his forehead. “You know your duty”, he claps his son’s shoulder with a heavy hand. 

Soshiro’s shoulders slump, an invisible weight bearing down on him. 

His duty awaits outside the estate’s gates. 

A young woman, clearly noble born, waits for them to greet her with her chin in the air, dolled up in matrimonial white, surrounded by a retinue of servants. She tilts her chin higher to assess her groom as he offers her his arm before bowing her head demurely, letting him help her up the stairs. 

The sun in your eyes forces you to turn away. Another woman catches your gaze, the profile of her face backlit in the blue-grey dusk. Rough hands, a cheap, cotton yukata, she hides in the shade. Her anguish is apparent in the defeated curve of her mouth. 

She’s you, you realise, with even sadder eyes. 

This is a dream, you tell yourself. A shitty, crappy excuse of a dream that you probably caused by drinking one too many cans of beer. You really should take better to maintain a healthy REM cycle, maybe pick up some meditation or exercise, because heaven knows your psyche will suffer if your subconsciousness decides to torture you in your sleep too.  

You close your eyes. 

You still don’t find yourself back in your bed. Instead, the stench of manure hits you, then the scratch of straw under your feet. That sad girl - you, in another life perhaps, kneels before the same dark haired boy, Soshiro, still as a statue.  

“The horse is saddled. We can ride somewhere, far away where no one knows either of our names, leave all of this behind. You don’t have to get married to a woman you don’t love -” 

He’s carved of marble in the moonlight, doesn’t move to meet her gaze, not even when she tugs at his sleeve. “I am but a second son, but even I know my duty to my clan.” 

“And what about love?” she asks. “What about me?” 

Neither of them notice you when you tumble out of the stable into the night. But there’s nothing but darkness looming before you, the moon nowhere to be seen, and when you turn back, the stable has disappeared. In its place, a familiar, wooden hut, where a fire grows. The heat of the forge stings your face, ash flying, the smell of burning steel in the air. 

This time, Soshiro’s in the lacquered leather of a samurai warrior from centuries past. “Is it ready?” he directs his question at the woman in the forge. 

Wordlessly, she hands him the sword in her hand, red hot from hammer and tongs. He weighs it in his hand, swings it once, twice, flashing quicksilver in the dim light of the blacksmith’s forge. You recognise the blade. You’ve seen it hung up in one of many sitting rooms in the Hoshina estate, captioned as belonging to a Hoshina ancestor who never returned home. 

You understand why her voice quivers when she calls out to him before he leaves. “My lord”, she says. “Will you ever lay down your sword?” 

“Perhaps in another life”, he replies. 

In the shadow of the forge, the violets in his eyes wither and die. 

You cannot bear to watch this play out before you again and again, a twisted loop you’re powerless to stop. There is nothing you can do to shock yourself awake, a ghost in every lifetime you freefall through, so bone weary, you stop running, sink to your knees. Wherever you are, the nightmares stop once you close your eyes. The damp grass is cool against your back, the darkness becomes soothing. It’s easy to lose yourself to a deep, undisturbed sleep. 

(wake up) 

The thrum of your heartbeat starts to still. You think you hear a faint echo. It sounds like Soshiro.

For the first time in your life, you hesitate to answer. 

(please, wake up)

“But it’s comfortable here”, you say to no one at all. “I’m so tired.” 

The neverending grind of work, of long hours spent hunched over glowering flames and complicated weapon blueprints. The dull ache of heartbreak, the painful lesson of learning to be okay alone. 

“Let me sleep”, you whisper. 

The darkness holds you close, blankets you. It’s too easy to let yourself just be, no one to disappoint, no one who disappoints. You let yourself be pulled beneath the tide, the endless ebb and flow lulling you into a dreamless slumber. 

Perhaps you could be content like this. 

Perhaps not. You think of the menagerie of plants you’ve gathered, they depend on you for food and water. There’s a pottery class on Sunday that you’ve been excited to attend, an abstract pot that you want to attempt. You’re supposed to meet your mother for tea, you’re looking forward to feasting on peaches, in season in the dying weeks of summer. 

Your eyelids are still heavy with the weight of sleep, but you force them open. A streak of pain that shoots through your right side, but you slowly sit up anyway. A sea of hydrangeas,  shimmering violet-blue in the early morning light stretches before you.

An achingly familiar voice calls your name. You lift your face to meet the rising sun, feeling its warmth flicker through you. 

Your heart begins to hum. 

You’re not in your own bed when you crack your eyes open. 

The room is too white, too pin-neat. There are clear tubes running from your arms, bandages restricting even your slightest movement, not that you really can do much other than shift about the too-narrow bed you’ve found yourself in, the sudden brightness disorienting you. 

“Oh!”, an unfamiliar voice exclaims. “Call the doctor, she’s awake!” 

Your head threatens to split open. It hurts too much to stay awake. 

You fall back into a dreamless sleep.

You drift in and out of consciousness after that, the pull of sleep still irresistible, but you stay awake for longer periods of time. Doctors poke and prod at you, nurses fuss over you. It’s hard to recall any conversations you have during this time, your memories melding almost into your dreams. 

People ask you questions about your name, your age, where you’re from. It feels as if you’re stuck underwater, it’s a struggle to gasp for enough air at times to answer them, but you think you find enough brain cells to rub together in the cotton wool jumble in your head, mumble the right answers so they go away. 

Your parents show up to visit you. 

‘’Llo”, you mutter. Your father looks strangely old, your mother tired. 

You’re pleased that your mother brings chopped peaches for you, less so when you realise you have no ability to swallow solid food just yet. They disappear for a hushed conversation with the doctors, leaving you with little distraction so you drop back off to sleep. 

The next time you wake, the room is dark. 

Even in the dim glow of machines beeping, you make out the faint outline of a boy you know too well, curled up uncomfortably in a plastic chair. “S‘ro”, you mumble, half asleep. 

A flurry of movement. He appears by your uninjured side, staring at you wide-eyed, as if he doesn’t believe you won’t disappear. You wonder if he’s another figment of your dreams because he stands so still drinking his fill of you, until he remembers to breathe again. 

“Hey”, he says hoarsely.

“Mmph”, you grunt. In your vague, rambling train of thoughts, you register surprise that he’s even here. “S’ work?”

His laugh is wet. “Are you seriously askin’ me ‘how’s work’ right now?” 

You frown. Why - why is Soshiro even here? 

“I’m here for you, silly”, a warm hand settles on your left arm. “Go back to sleep. I’ll seeya later.” 

You start to stay awake for longer stretches at a time. 

Your parents gently fill you in on your situation. You were touch and go for a while, your mother recounts tearfully, your head injury making the doctors doubt you’d ever wake. You had to be cut open to stop internal bleeding in your gut, fix a multitude of shattered bones in your right hip and leg. Burns, on your shoulder and arm which required skin grafts, extensive medication to keep infection at bay. 

Everyone treats you like you’re made out of glass even as your condition steadily improves, aided by the wonders of kaiju regenerative technology. Your parents fuss over you like a child, tucking you in too tight beneath starched hospital sheets. The nurses refuse to let you shower, only allowing you sponge baths which you detest. 

Soshiro’s the worst of the lot. 

At first it's endearing how protective and sweet he is. The doctors give him a wide berth, most of the nurses terrified of him, though he swears that he’s been utterly polite when you question him about it. He doesn’t allow you to do anything yourself, not even hold your own cup of water when you drink. Your bedside is overflowing with colourful greeting cards, half of them signed by him, and he brings you a fresh bouquet of flowers during each visit. 

“That boy is besotted with you”, one of the nurses who isn’t intimidated by Soshiro trills in with her unsolicited opinion. “It’s adorable.” 

He’s not”, you deny, frowning. “We’re just friends.”  

It’s a little too much. The only visitor who doesn’t smother you is Sochiro, who snaps back to his usual self the minute you show a little of your usual snark. “Did you break your head too?” you ask, when he arrives bearing a hamper of fruit. 

“Impertinent brat”, he snaps back. “I’ll have you know my father put me up to this.” 

You grin. “I suppose that’s where your brother got his manners from. Pity you don’t have any.”

He glowers at you, but doesn’t storm out of the room. Instead, he brandishes a small, silver knife and starts peeling fruit. “I never wanted a younger sibling”, he grouses. “Should’ve dropped Soshiro in the drain the minute he was born, then I’d never have to deal with your smart mouth -.” 

“Aww”, you coo. “Hoshina Sochiro, Captain of the Sixth Division, getting soft in your old age.” 

“Shut it”, he snaps, while stuffing perfect wedges of fruit into your palm. 

It reminds you of the easy friendship you had with Soshiro, not the way he’s behaving, almost as if he feels anything more than friendship for you - which he’s confirmed to your face that he mostly does not. It confuses you, the tender way he treats you, the lingering stares when he thinks you’re asleep, and you much prefer him to go back to the way he was before. 

“Stop it!” you finally burst, when his smothering becomes too overwhelming. “Treat me like your friend - not like I’m some glass figurine you’re trying to keep safe.”

A plastic chair screeches back. He stares at you. “Do you even realise how close you were to dyin’?” 

“Sorta”, you reply, though some gaps remain empty in your memories, “but I’m okay now, and ‘sides, what happened was just bad luck -”

“No it wasn’t just luck”, he replies. “It wasn’t. It wasn’t.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Something shutters behind his eyes. “It’s my fault you’re hurt.” He angles himself away from you. “I crashed into your building.” 

“The kaiju threw you into the building”, you correct. “It wasn’t your fault.”

He lunges forward to grip your bed rail, his sudden intensity scaring you. “I could’ve been the cause of you dyin’-”

“My head’s pretty hard”, you try to diffuse the building tension with a joke. “Would take more than a fallin’ building to kill me.”

He makes a strangled sound of outrage in his throat. “Don’t. Just - don’t.” 

His tone is devoid of its usual lightness. He’s - he’s angry, scared, face twisting into a scowl, body coiling, as if preparing for an attack. “You’re upset”, you murmur. “Don’t be.” 

“You could’ve died.”

“Hey”, you beckon him forward, lifting your uninjured hand off the bed to place it on top of his. He grasps at it, a drowning man clutching at a lifeline. 

“It’s okay”, you say gently. “I’m okay.” 

“Promise me you’ll stay safe.”

“I’ll try my best”, you offer. 

An angry sound escapes through his clenched jaw, his face strained. You brush the skin of his wrist with your thumb until the too-quick staccato of his pulse steadies. 

“Go to sleep”, he finally says. “Just stay safe.” 

After that, something shifts. Soshiro resumes the mantle of his chaotic, goofy self. 

“I’m gonna yell at you when you’re better”, Soshiro huffs the next time he visits. “A daikaiju -it was a nine on the fortitude scale, y’know - decides to attack near you, and you not only choose to stay put, you run back into a collapsing building for whatever reason -” 

“I was trying to save some of the blades -” 

“How about you focus on savin’ your own damn skin -” 

You sniff, deliberately closing your eyes. “I’m going back to sleep.” 

“Oi”, he grounds out. “Stop pretendin’.” 

The reappearance of the playful banter you’re used to sharing with him puts you back at ease. “Don’t you need to sleep too?” you ask, staring pointedly at the purple smudges beneath his eyes. “In a bed, not a hospital chair that’s going to give you a crooked neck.” 

“S’fine”, he always replies. “Still way more comfortable than sleepin’ out in a forest durin’ kaiju hunts.” 

“Still”, you insist. “You don’t have to visit me so often. I know how busy you are with work.” 

He squints at you. “Do you not want me to be here?” 

“That’s not what I’m saying and you know it -”

“Sometimes work can take a backseat.” 

You beckon him forward, place a hand against his forehead. “No fever”, you pronounce. “That’s odd -  the Hoshina Soshiro I know would never say that unless his mind is addled by illness-” 

He pulls away with a splutter, cheeks a furious pink. 

But awkward moments like this remain, no matter how much you try to keep your conversations light, breezy. There’s a tension Soshiro carries, especially apparent in the broad lines of his shoulders. He’s nervy, jumpy almost, the unguarded hitch in his breath when he draws in just a little too close. There’s something he’s keeping in, deep inside his chest that keeps trying to explode out of him whenever he’s not careful. 

There’s a glimpse of that when you tell him of your plan to move back to Osaka to continue recuperating under your parents’ roof. You’ll miss your apartment where you navigated much of your young adult life, the routines you’ve built for yourself. But you’re tired of living in the hospital, sleeping on a too-hard bed, without much privacy from nurses who pop in and out of your room at odd hours at all times. Your parents agree to ferry you to check-ups and appointments, and they even got your brother to transport your plants to make you feel more at home. 

“You’re not leavin’ for good, surely”, he frowns. 

“I’m not sure”, you shrug. “Izumo Tech does have offices in Osaka, and there isn’t much tying me to Tokyo anymore. 

There’s a sudden lull in the conversation as Soshiro falls silent, face stricken. He opens his mouth as if to speak, once, twice, before shutting it deliberately,  Then his face slackens into a childish pout. 

“Don’t go”, he whines. “Who would I hang out with when I’m off-duty?” 

Caught off guard from this sudden change in mood, you refrain from pointing out that you’d each taken turns to studiously ignore the other before. “You’ll survive”, you pat his hand. “And, on the rare occasions you actually find the time away from work, you’re always welcome to visit me in Osaka.” 

“I will”, he replies, so seriously that your traitorous heart skips a beat. 

“I doubt you’ll get enough time off work”, you brush him off lightly before changing the subject. 

You don’t expect him to visit, not when Osaka is two and a half hours away from Tokyo on the shinkansen, but he turns up at the doorstep of your parents’ apartment with roses, dusty pink like the flush up his neck. 

“Hoshina-kun”, your mother exclaims. “Come on in!”

Something is up. Your mother bustles around, ushers him into your room, lays out before him an offering of cut fruit. Surprised at the tableau before you, you blink, looking up from your book. 

“Don’t you have to work?” 

“I do have days off, y’know.” He says, easing you into your wheelchair. 

“Thought you said killing kaijus isn’t a nine to five job”, you remind him pertly. 

He tweaks your nose. “Don’t be smart”, his eyes crinkle as he laughs, rolling you out of the confines of your parent’s house to a nearby park to enjoy the crisp cool autumn breeze, settling you down in the shade beneath a sprawling gingko tree. 

“Well, how’s work?” 

He considers you with a sideways glance. “I refuse to answer”, he says primly. “If I do, you’ll make use of it to accuse me of being obsessed with my job.”

“Aren’t you?” 

“This is exactly what I mean”, he throws his hands out dramatically. “Shouldn’t you just be happy I’m here -” 

“Actually”, you tease. “Isn’t the train fare really expensive? Can you afford that on your pay?” 

“The Defense Force’s generous enough to give me food, clothing and a roof over my head”, he replies drolly. “So I think my bank account can take the occasional hit.” Then, he shoots another mock glare your way. “Anyway, I don’t wanna talk about work or anything related to work.” 

“Then I guess there’s nothing else to talk about”, you tap your chin thoughtfully. 

“Idiot”, he wrinkles his nose. “We haven’t even talked about how you’re doing.” 

“Me?” 

Exaggeratedly, he takes a look around. “I don’t see anyone else I could be askin’ about -” 

“You wanna hear about my boring doctor appointments?” 

His eyes are wide, earnest. “I wanna hear about everything.” 

The sudden seriousness of his demeanour catches you off-kilter. Haltingly you tell him about the long check-ups that take hours, the doctors being optimistic about your progress, the physiotherapy sessions you’ve started. You’re slowly starting to walk again, a few steps at a time, giving you hope that you’ll be on your own two feet by the time of your brother’s wedding at the end of fall, even if you have to rely a little on crutches. 

“I’m talking too much”, you say, looking down at your lap. 

“Don’t stop”, he urges. “Keep talkin’.” 

A snort. “You’re gonna get sick of the sound of my voice”, 

“What a silly thing to say”, his gaze holds yours, steady, sure. 

There’s something impossibly soft in his eyes, a tenderness in the curve of his mouth. You don’t dare to put a name to it yet, don’t even dare to look too closely at it lest you lose yourself to daydreams that can’t possibly be true. Yet, in the purpling dusk, even though the seasons dictate that there be no summer flowers this late in the fall, there’s a bud of hope in your heart that starts to unfurl, petal by petal, twining itself between the ribs of your chest. 

(i like you)

(i’m sorry)

You remind yourself that your heart is not quite healed. Stitches remain, fleshy scars pink and raised. Ventricles working overtime to compensate for the damage he’s wrought just months prior. Mercilessly, you prune those hopes like unwanted weeds, chopping away at errant stems and leaves. 

“I’m tired”, you break away from his gaze. “Shall we call it a day?” 

He makes it difficult for you to safeguard your heart. 

Once a week, he makes the trek from Tokyo to Osaka without fail, appearing at your parents’ door with a bouquet of flowers and a bag bursting with fruit, whatever is in season - peaches and peonies, apples and chrysanthemums. Picnics when it’s sunny, cafes or supermarkets when it rains. Your mother has a sudden change of heart regarding him, always asking you when he’s coming to take you out next.  

“Seriously, don’t you have work?” you demand. “You can’t keep coming down here, it’s ridiculous.” 

“Is it?” he asks quietly. 

“It is”, you reply. “It’s a waste of your time and money.” 

With careful, calloused fingers, he tilts your chin up to meet his gaze. “What must I do to make you believe it’s really, really not.” 

You flinch, cramming your thrumming heart back into the confines of your chest. “You’re ridiculous”, you say as calmly as you can. If your leg weren’t still broken, you’d flee in the other direction, put as much distance as you can between you and Hoshina Soshiro, for fear of losing your heart again to him. 

He’s relentless, a quality that makes him an excellent swordsman and soldier, though it does not bode well for your heart. You spend the next few weeks keeping your conversations light, unsentimental, refusing to allow that unnamed emotion budding  in his eyes flourish any further, he remains undeterred. You catch him watching you sometimes, with something you don’t dare to name that bleeds into you, spreading the seeds of hope deep in your gut.  

“I’ll be back next week to see you”, he always says. “Stay safe.”

You should tell him to leave you alone, let you replant your heart in another pot, give it a chance to learn to stop looking towards him for his light. But the words choke in your throat, and it’s all you can do to look the other way. 

You don’t get any respite even at your own brother’s wedding. 

It’s too large, too crowded an occasion, your parents booking out a banquet hall in an upscale hotel to cram in their swarms of guests. As the younger sister of the groom, you’re expected to greet each and every guest, thank them for their attendance even if you’d much rather be at home, warm and snug in bed. Instead, your head threatens to split open, your hip’s on the verge of falling apart. You curse your stubbornness in insisting against bringing your wheelchair, the crutches you lean on cutting into the tender flesh of your underarms.  

“Did anyone tell you that you look beautiful tonight?” 

As it was in your dreams, he’s in a haori, deep blue with golden thread, but this time he looks right at you. Your mouth goes dry and you can’t seem to swallow your heart back down your throat. 

“Save your flirting for my cousins”, you retort, turning away. “They’re all aflutter at meeting you tonight.” 

He doesn’t let you flee. An arm loops around your waist, sears through the silk layers of your kimono and smoulders. “You’re cranky cos you’re tired, so let me help you.” 

You blame your capitulation on the absence of your wheelchair, not because you’re light headed from the sudden surge of helpless affection in your gut, as much as you refuse to allow yourself to believe his words. You let him steer you into your seat, palm flat against your back, heat suffusing into your skin. 

“I’ll be here if you need me”, he says simply. 

You don’t need him, you want to say, you can’t, but your mouth can’t seem to form the words when he leans in, tucks a stray strand of hair behind the shell of your ear, his touch feather light. 

“Vice Captain Hoshina!?” As you foresaw, a gaggle of younger cousins goggle at him, drag him away for selfies and autographs. You don’t get a chance to speak with him again once the wedding starts, the seating plan placing him with his parents and other business associates of your parents, a few tables away.  

The sheer scale and grandeur of your brother’s wedding isn’t what you’d have chosen for yourself, the cavernous ballroom feeling too large and impersonal, speeches dragging on for too long, but your brother and your new sister seem to radiate contentment, though you suspect the champagne toasts might have helped. 

As the sister of the groom, you’re the target of your older aunts’ inquiry as to ‘when it’s your turn next’, never mind that you burrow into your seat, trying to disappear from sight, and when that fails miserably, try to divert their attention to anything, anyone but yourself. If you had full use of your legs, you’d make a hasty retreat by now, but you’re so painfully slow on your crutches that you’re sure even the oldest grandma questioning you on your dating status (or lack thereof) would be able to catch up with you. 

“Ladies”, a smooth voice cuts in. “How are you all doin’ tonight?” 

A boyish smile with a cheeky snaggletooth works wonders on elderly ladies, you learn. It gives you the chance to slip away to the bathroom, splash water on your face, shackle your heart back in place. 

This brief reprieve doesn’t last long. Soshiro emerges from the shadows, pushing off the wall to pad quietly behind you. 

“What are you doing here?” you demand. “You should be back inside -” 

“I’m here to make sure you’re safe”, he replies. “Unless you don’t want me to make sure you don’t fall and crack your pretty head open?”  

“Stop it”, you say crossly, your crutches clacking loudly on the floor as you speed up, trying to put some distance between you two. “You’re giving everyone the wrong impression.” 

He follows right on your heels. “Perhaps I’m givin’ the right impression -” 

“Just  - just stop, Soshiro.” 

You burst through glass doors to push your way onto the open rooftop in the hope that the nighttime air will cool the heat rising in your cheeks, but you miss your step, crutches sliding on marble tiles and oof - 

Warm arms wrap tightly around you. You tell yourself it’s the shock of your almost-fall that makes you sag against a broad, lean chest, compliantly allowing Soshiro to tuck your face into his shoulders, settle an arm beneath your thighs, carrying you over onto a seat. A thick, rich fabric rests on your shoulders - his haori, you realise, the warmth from his body seeping into your skin. 

“Are you hurt?” he drops to one knee in front of you. 

The intensity of his gaze flays your chest open, exposing your beating heart, its stitches frayed. The spectre of the girl with sad eyes haunts you, leaving you terrified that you’ll suffer the same fate as her in this lifetime too. 

“I need you to stop”, you shove him back, a trapped animal brandishing its claws. “I want you to leave me alone. I don’t want your pity -” 

“Pity?!” he falls back on his haunches, gaping at you, incredulous. “Is that what you think it is?” 

“What else could it be?” you demand wetly, eyes stinging. “Nevermind, I changed my mind, I don’t want to know -” 

“Haven’t I made it obvious these past few months?” he asks, and you shake your head stubbornly, no. “What I feel for you - I’ve been goin’ crazy from the moment they told me a buildin’ fell on your head, so fuckin’ terrified I was goin’ to lose you just as I realised how stupid I’ve been -” 

Your head swims. “I don’t -” 

“I’ve loved you since I was eight. I just didn’t realise it til I nearly lost you.” 

You push aside the clouds of anger and fear blurring your vision. You see Hoshina Soshiro kneeling before you, slicing his chest open with your blade to reveal his heart, pressing it bloodied and beating into your waiting hands. 

In this lifetime, in this moment, he is yours and you are his.  

There is no guarantee that this will remain. Duty will always call upon him, and he will answer without fail. That is his destiny, as much as he is yours. Realisation crashes into you, relentless waves pulling you underwater. You will have to share him with the rest of Japan, possibly the world. This too shall end, be it tomorrow or years down the road if fate smiles down on you both. 

But even if his heart belongs to you for no more than a day, it’s enough. It’s all you’ve ever wanted. 

“You love me.” 

“Yeah”, he murmurs, moving so impossibly close that you see the violets in the depths of his eyes in full bloom. “And I kinda think you love me too.��� 

Instead of answering, you tug him towards you, tangle your fingers in dark hair, let your lips press against the seam of his lips. He doesn’t give you the chance to breathe, arm curling around your waist, his hand cupping your face so he can tilt your chin up to pour himself into you. You drink him in, greedy to take what you can get, mouth open against his, lost to the raging current of want, of love that pulls you beneath the waves. 

“I think I do”, you say softly.  

Hoshina Soshiro smiles at you, wider and brighter than the moon. 

a/n: i hope this chapter soothes the anxiety from last week heh :>

squeal at me pls! muacks always <3

[cieloclercs]

what would you say (if i told you i love you)? — charles leclerc

PART: 5/? (read part 4 here)

summary. in which childhood best friends blur the lines between what they’ve always known, and something more

pairing. charles leclerc x artsy!reader

warnings. it’s GROVELLING time !! sad charles, sad reader, swearing, everyone still kind of hates charles (as they should) angst but not quite as angsty as the last part

face claim. tara michelle

author’s note. i hope this is enough suffering for you guys 😭 i’m weak tho so there’s a tinyyy bit of progress at the end 👀 i feel like this one’s a bit messy so i’m sorry about that?? it’s also kind of just setting up the next part but oh well 😭 anyways, LAST PART COMING UP NEXT ☹️ i’m gonna miss this series :’(

NOW PLAYING | Singapore 2023 post-FP1 interview: Charles Leclerc

COMMENTS 32k

username i’m still charles’ number 1 hater rn but he looked so sad at the end… ☹️

username girl no we need to be strong! don’t fall for the sad puppy dog eyes (i know he’s cute but srsly don’t) 🫠

username you’re right, you’re right 😔 haters until the end 🫡

username sir don’t try and blame your shitty mistakes on y/n 😭😭

username HE LOOKS SO SAD I CANT 🥲

username i really hope y/n sees this and realises he’s actually sorry

username no way that’s too easy. charles needs to apologise properly !!

username oh my GOD the way he started smiling when he said y/n is his ‘lucky charm’ AND THEN THE WAY IT DROPPED WHEN HE REMEMBERED THEY’RE NOT FRIENDS ANYMORE IM GONNA SCREAM 😭😭😭💔💔💔

username charles do you see what you’re doing to us charlesy/n stans?? PLEASE JUST TELL HER HOW YOU FEEL FFS 😫

username i swear if these two don’t pull their heads out of their asses soon I WILL COMMIT MURDER

username so real bestie 😔

username it’s such an invasion of privacy to ask about this though 😭

username fr the press don’t know when to keep out of it 😒

username i think he knows he’s in love with her now, he’s just not sure how to fix things ☹️

username i’m scared this feels like right person wrong time you know? 😃

username don’t say that 🫣 i’m just praying y/n forgives him. as soon as he apologises properly ofc, can’t make it too easy for him mwahahah

username i want to keep hating him but i’ve never seen him look that sad 🥲

username CHARLES YOU DONT GET TO ACT LIKE THE VICTIM WHEN YOU’RE THE ONE THAT’S CAUSED THIS

username so true. he needs to stop feeling sorry for himself and apologise 🙄

liked by yourfriend and 47,837 others

yourusername always on my mind ☁️💫

view all comments…

username SHE’S BACK IN MONACO GUYS EVERYBODY STAY CALM

username MOTHER HAS RETURNED !!!

username wait is that f1 she’s watching on her phone? 🤨

username omg it is 🤭

username SHE WATCHED THE RACE OMFG

username charles podium as well 😩😩

username it’s like he knew she was watching 🥹

username i hate how quickly everyone’s switching up on the charles situation just because of that interview but at the same time i can’t deal with my parents fighting anymore i need them to make up 😫

leclerc_pascale Bienvenue à la maison, ma fille ❤️ / welcome home, my girl

yourusername 🥰

arthur_leclerc YOU’RE BACK

yourusername did you forget? i literally saw you twenty minutes ago 😭

username the caption 🤔

username we can all agree she’s talking about charles, right?

yourfriend ma femme 🤩 / my wife

yourusername mon amour 😘

username she is everything.

username forget her art SHE IS THE ART RIGHT THERE

charles_leclerc belle / beautiful

username EXCUSE ME??

username SIR WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE PHAHAHA

username charles get tf out of here 😭

username i love how y/n’s just straight up ignoring him 😭

username CHARLES IS HERE GUYS HOW ARE WE FEELING

username i’m so conflicted rn

username like i want them to make up but at the same time he needs to SUFFER like he made y/n suffer

username fr, make him squirm a little 😌

username idk guys, if charles leclerc commented ‘belle’ on MY instagram, i’d be on my knees in an instant 🫣

username girl please 😭

username charles babe please go away you’re ruining the vibes x

username i swear to god if he’s here just to fuck with y/n’s head again i’ll fucking kill him

username he wouldn’t do that

username @charles_leclerc if you want to win her back this is NOT the way to do it

arthur_leclerc @charles_leclerc what did i tell you? 👀

username HAHAHA ARTHUR STOP

joris_trouche @charles_leclerc you should listen to our advice mate 😃

yourfriend @arthur_leclerc @joris_trouche shut up both of you 😒

joris_trouche yes ma’am 🫡

username they’re all ganging up on him 😭

liked by formula1updates and 9,736 others

f1gossip Charles Leclerc and Y/N Y/L/N spotted at the same night club in Monaco 👀

view all comments…

username OH MY GOD IS IT HAPPENING??

username there’s no way this is coincidence charles is boutta beg for forgiveness i’m calling it

username y/n’s actually smiling tho 😭 charles please don’t ruin it x

username we need y/f/n to scare him off before he can ruin her night 🤞

username AHAHAHA YES

username what i’d give to be in that club rn 😔

username fr y/n better be roasting him 😭

➜ part 6

taglist: @cxcewg @incoherenciass @formula1mount @allywthsr @meabhcavanagh @driveswiftly13 @zzblooda @gaslysainz @be-your-coffee-pot @siovhanroy

[citylighten]

Hello! I've been reading Sink or Swim, and I am absolutely enthralled in the depth of your writing. Which brings me to my first of several questions... How long have you been writing? I find Pietro's backstory personality very complex. How he presents himself... Handles obstacles... It's intriguing. How long did it take to create Pietro's... well... life? Did you have to do a considerable amount of research? And for my last question, how long does it take you to caption a scene? Are you editing the dialogue right until you post?

HELLO~!

First off thank you for this message! I'm very happy you're enjoying the story!

In regard to your first question: I began writing at a young age. So young, that my earliest memory of writing is sitting on my grandmother's lap and telling her exactly what to write down in Microsoft Word. (I figure these were probably stories about Simba the Lion) Eventually, I told her I wanted to figure out how to use Word on my own and the rest is history. But yeah, I've always been big on writing and reading, there was always a story of some kind in my head. By the time I was ten, I was on FF.Net posting very shitty fanfics. But that's the thing about writing, you know? The more you do it, the more you read, the more you even do something like observe films and shows for the narrative value rather than strictly looking at it as entertainment the better of a writer you become. I also made the decision back in high school to become a journalist (something I don't think I want to be anymore, but I digress) still, having the responsibility of writing about real events, or about real people, definitely influenced my writing, as well. Especially when it comes to the way people speak or may explain something.

Admittedly, writing a story in the mafia genre isn't easy. A lot of research is involved (ranging from reading biographies to just watching films, but I also love the video game Mafia because their worldbuilding is pretty good😂) and I often take mental notes of things so I can understand/apply similar topics with my characters.

In regard to your second question: We've hardly scratched the surface of who Pietro is as a person! I planned to do a few edits of him as a kid as well as a "mini-story" of how he ran away from home at sixteen but I haven't gotten around to it yet.

Pietro is a very new oc - he was made this year, so understanding him/developing him has been a push-and-pull process. Before Sink or Swim started, he was originally meant to be way more antagonistic, but then I found myself liking him. I thought of Pietro and Rosie hooking up and the drama that could entail of, but then I thought, "what if this guy cared about her?" And boom, I found myself jotting out a bunch of outlines and concepts.

However, because Pietro isn't born in America...er, Simerica, I've found myself reading about Sicily a lot. Since I view that as the real-world counterpart to Tartosa. The norms, the lives of farmers, the way organized crime functions there because Pietro's family suffered greatly due to the local mob. But that's all I'm saying about that!

In regard to your third question: Captioning a scene can take forever. I'm not sure why because all I do is copy-paste pre-written text. But the time it takes to write out a scene can vary depending on its length, relevancy, and tone. Small talk is horrible to write, just plain horrible. Banter is usually quick. But when you have scenes like Rosie reading Pietro's email - that took forever because not only am I writing out Sheila and Pietro having a serious conversation, I had to write out the details of the email. Similarly, in my last post, when Pietro more or less confesses that he's an affiliate of the mob: that conversation took three rewrites before I felt it was good enough to put on caps. The first conversation draft was rough, I kept zoning out. The second was a little easier, but I found myself rearranging the conversation to better flow. And the third edit was the easiest because it was like I was 'smoothing' things over and ensuring the flow was decent. Sometimes though, once I paste dialogue onto a cap I do slightly tweak it to correspond with the expression the sim has. But again, thank you for all these questions! I enjoyed answering them!

[communistcephalopod]

fuck it, ranking all of these

#12

The filter. The make up. The "Actually... one more time". The fact that it's inspired by that weird Tim Burton Alice in Wonderland remake, down to the stupid fucking "Underland" retcon. The turning of an unrelated joke into a fandom post. The fact that it's the 8th addition to a bit that has long worn out by now. This is the epitome of classic 2010s Tumblr cringe (affectionate).

#11

12th place was kinda a toss up between this and the last one, but I figured that that one hits harder while this one's just kind of low quality. Most of the others have a decent bit of editing done while this just has the saturation turned up which just makes it look crusty, some flame pngs could have saved this. What really kills this for me though is the the font choice. Really hard to read, it looks like it says "BORN TO BE WOLD", and it just doesn't feel like it fits.

#10

This is the first of the fandom hats, which were inevitable, but I'm still not a fan of them in the face of what the joke was supposed to be. It's also the 7th hat in the post, at this point the gimmick is really starting to grow tired. You could argue that it doesn't really represent the vibes of the character that well, but that's nitpicking, and it isn't totally off.

#9

Not bad, but as the 3rd reblog (I think? The early parts of this post have somehow been fucked up by time) and the first non fedora, this is where the floodgates open and you realise exactly the kind of post you're about to witness. Everything from here on out isn't riffing off of OP's joke, it's a continuation of a thread. This post is That's Amore Guy's fault. Whether that's a compliment or an insult is up to you I guess.

#8

Captures the style it's parodying pretty well, but it fails to stand out in a sea of reblogs. Well made, but not much to comment on.

#7

Same deal as the last hat, gets a place higher mostly because it was lucky enough to be relatively early in the chain.

#6

The same joke as the original, but the rose and the shitty poetry are a nice touch. Being the 2nd reblog also helps.

#5

I know I said I'm not into the fandom additions, but the camera angle on this one is too good to write off. It would have been so easy to just throw in some coins and goombas or whatever, but the use of the Bowser plushie and the dramatic pose and the fireballs make this one genuinely pretty funny.

#4

One of the less high effort ones, but as the original it doesn't feel like it's part of the one upping contest the others are in, it's a self contained joke, and as a self contained joke it works pretty well.

#3

A solid punchline and a necessary conclusion. Successfully manages to say "alright, wrap it up, we're done here" while still somehow managing to end this hellpost on a high point.

#2

Right as the post is about to grow stale it hits us with this. One of the best edited images on the post that really captures the 2015 douchiness so perfectly. And the caption. "Shave your arm hair" next to that face is so fucking funny to me, I don't know what else to say. I just really like this one.

#1

Many of the hats on this post suffer somewhat from being late additions that come after a long stream of 2010s Tumblr cringe, but this beats out "Shave your arm hair" because of where it is. After three of the worst hats (in my opinion) in a row, this honestly saves the post. Breaking up the barrage of lol wacky 2015 humour with a 'Nam flashback is such an effective gut punch. What really makes this one though is when he takes it off. Everyone else does the same cartoonish blurry jump back while making a stupid face, that's part of what makes the post feel the way it does. He just sits there. Horrified by what he's seen. 10/10, peak cinema.

Are fedoras really that bad?

YES YES THEY ARE

[ebdanon]

looove the tattoo allie, and congrats on coming out I missed it too <3

I'm back with a lore update, as my mother in law managed to have a whole monologue in front of me to tell me how she's a God-fearing woman, she prays morning and night, and the lord always protects her and makes her wishes come true and how she goes to church for every holiday and whatever else she does.

I'm not religious because it doesn't make sense to me. Also I prayed a lot as a kid to make the suffering for me ans my loved ones a lot smaller and it never really worked, so that really did me in. But her monologues did remind me of my father (who's quite religious) telling me that true Christians don't brag about what they do with their religion and I almost burst out laughing when my mother in law was telling me all that stuff when I remember that. As a kid I learned that your relationship between the God you believe in is between you and that God and it's bad if you brag about it. Although I'm pretty sure every religion teaches people to be humble.

Anyway, the second time she did a monologue, she managed to jump into talking about her own sister in law (who she thinks is a witch) and started talking shit about her. Now, I've heard a few stories and I know she's not a great woman, but a witch? C'mon, I used to be into eastern philosophy too, like she allegedly is (I'm 100% sure my mother in law went snooping in her home when she had a chance years ago and found a book on chakras and stuff like that which made her think so) but that's a far cry from any sort of witchcraft. She talked about the kind of photos her sister in law shares on social media and how it's inappropriate for her to wear revealing clothes when you're so old and overweight, and make suggestive poses. I think the woman is a little extra from what I saw (kinda reminds me of what millennial teenagers used to post on Facebook (like me) every time they went out) but I don't really care about the details of the photos or captions.

Anyway, my mother in law expressed the idea about my being a witch to her daughter a couple of weeks ago. My mother in law has a bit of a drinking problem, as I've mentioned. Two weeks ago she slipped and fell into the oven and broke the oven door. I've seen her slip and fall a couple of other times and it's always when she's piss drunk. My husband and I were out of the house when this happened, we came back about 30mins after it happened. She went to a doctor the next day, she had a mild concussion but no serious injuries. She went around the house with holy water spraying some in every room to make the house safer. Sure, whatever, I don't care. But she was barely standing she was so dizzy and started an argument with everyone when we all suggested we take her to a doctor immediately. Nope, she had to vacuum up the glass first, wash her hair in case there was more glass, call a few more people to chat, and did the holy water thing before going to bed.

She has explained her fall as "some supernatural force pushing and tripping her". When we came back after being out, you could smell the alcohol on her breath so I'm sure that was the reason. When she told her daughter (my sister in law that then tells my husband and I all the shitty things their parents say about us lmao) she insinuated that it was my fault because something is off about me. My mother in law also complained to my husband that her phone has been slow since the fall (the phone also fell), but she told her daughter that her phone is surely possessed by the devil. She also told everyone that it "feels heavier since then" which makes 0 sense but okay sure.

I know she's bothered by my very existence, it's been apparent for years but she never directly says it to me. Years ago my husband decided to bleach his hair for fun, we were together for about a year back then, and years later he told me that his mom thought I made him bleach it. Because of that I'm sure she thinks I made him get a tattoo too. Sometimes when she's screaming about whatever is bothering her at the moment, she'll slip and tell my husband how I'm fucking him over, but always when I'm not in the room. Jokes on her, she's so loud, I can still hear her even though I have hearing issues.

Okay let me end this here, next time I'm gonna tell you the crap I've heard her say about me and my family when she's on her various screaming rants (parents, grandparents, sister, cousins, aunts, etc, yes she has a whole list of people from my family that bother her lmao)

Have an amazing weekend <3

religious people who have to rub it in your face ab how religious or whatever they are (mainly christians) are so annoying. i grew up catholic so i ran into a lot of those people and your mother in law sounds like a nightmare. also the way you got blamed for his choices is crazy like doesnt bro know how to think for himself mom 😭

also…… ngl if you gotta complain about everyone else then i think its fair to look at the common denominator but your mother in law doesnt seem like the type for self reflection despite that being pretty important in christianity (unless im wrong about other denominations bc im speaking from catholic experience)

also thank ya darling :) i think it turned out really nice im very pleased with it. have a good weekend lovely 🫶

[asecretthirdthing]

Some ppl are made to love Florida I suppose. There’s a part me that’s jealous when they do, when I see my friends still down there on Instagram. One girl is from Pittsburgh actually and moved down there a few years ago. She just posted a reel with pics of Fort Lauderdale… captioned “Never gets old!” And of course florida always has a piece of my heart. I feel like I was meant to be born there and spend my childhood there, I don’t regret that. Everything went wrong tho. I learned laying in the sunlight and the beach and pretty flowers and tiki bars had no affect on whether I was happy with myself or not. Maybe ppl who find happiness within themselves when they move to florida put a false causation on it. Cause if Florida makes ppl happy, why not me when I tried so hard and wanted it so bad? I love Pittsburgh tho and I know some ppl who were raised here feel the same about Pittsburgh that I do about Florida. However, my mental health and physical health sucks the worst it ever has right now, and I’m suffering a lot cause of it, but there’s always a piece of me that’s grateful I’m up here at least. On that note I am also grateful that I am soon going to be receiving treatment for the stuff that’s wrong with me and also have a heavy financial burden lifted. But right now, temporarily, I have no control over any of it and the anticipation for all of it is making me lose my mind. I just had a shitty day at work too. All of this will be over soon (in optimistic way not ☠️ way)

[rubbish78]

get a guy friend that looks at you like that 😍

[melon-official]

those memories that you had in the chalice of your lonely childhood- of you just out on the road, just fighting for survival- there was something there that you couldn’t quite perceive

[bastardtrait]

Welcome to the Lucky Legacy!

$40 says you’re thinking “Ron what the fuck enough with the fucking legacies” well guess what... yeah.

I have completed 2 legacies, and another one is halfway done; I need something to keep my brain preoccupied so as not be able to produce a single thought. if you’ve been following me for a while, then you know how my saves work. half the generation is dedicated to a mildly serious story, half is dedicated to raising shitty kids. I am the definition of a broken record. so what’s different about this one?

I love playing LEPacies and this is like that. the difference is that, each generation focuses on more than one pack: an EP mixed with a GP or SP. this one differs from the Novas in that the captions are hardsubbed right onto the screenshots because I ❤️ love ❤️ to suffer.

in the same vein of the Novas being matriarchal with wives (luv u lesbians xo), the Luckys will be patriarchal with husbands (except for the Island Living generation because, and say it with me now: Sulani is FOR THE GIRLS). but I mean if only girls are born, that’s fine, we’ll roll with it. listen I just wanted to tell some mid-ass stories about gay dudes. that’s my wheelhouse, my bread and butter. my After series.

with that being said... yeah. let’s get into it baby.

I am inspired by the inimitable, the magnanimous @igglemouse in that, for discerning adults ONLY, some Lucky posts will have a link to my pillowfort for cutaway adult content. preemptively, view at your own discretion. I shan’t be held responsible for what your eyes behold if you go looking for stuff you don’t necessarily want to see.

[honey-milk-depresso]

Frickin’ Kahoot (TWST; Random)

Riddle Rosehearts

He’s super smart and probably knows all the answers-

The only reason why he rage quits is because his phone connection

S U C K S

“OH MY GREAT SEVENS I PRESSED THE RED BUTTON SO MANY TIMES IT WOULDN’T RESPOND, NOW I DROPPED TO 6TH PLACE BECAUSE OF THIS STUPID WIFI-”

d a m n-

He would also be the one of those usually good kids to not give a shit anymore about keeping up an appearance-

He just go fcking feral child rage quit

He just really competitive alright?

He also puts a normal name when playing Kahoot.

Like

Just “Riddle”

Or like his full name “Riddle Rosehearts”

Sometimes when he feels like it he puts “Riddle Rose<3″

That’s the most amount of informality you’ll get-

And he usually comes in 4th and 5th place because of his stupid wifi-

Trey Clover

Lmao

He loves it

Not too much

But it makes him relieve and scared at the same time when the professor says it’s Kahoot time-

Like-

He’s veryyy normal

Though he can be so done when the class is in the midst of pure chaos-

Gets a decent amount right and wrong-

Super chill

Unlike Heartslabyul Dorm leader-

He just lay back-

Relax.

But if he feels a bit of competitive spirit,

He’ll manage to get 6th to 8th instead of the usual 10th to 15th place-

He names himself “Trey”, “trey”, “4leafclover”, “bakes a win”, “trey clover”, “lucky clover” stuff like that.

He doesn’t rage quit-

He super chill so-

yeah.

Cater Diamond

Honestly,

he thinks it’s the perfect time to take a picture

correction PICTURES

Listen

People playing Kahoot is like a warzone

But to people who don’t really care-

It’s the perfect time to find memes

It’s like a meme mind field for Cater

everywhere

Riddle rage quit-

perfect cut scream

Trey looking so done

Make a caption saying “Look at the excitement on his face” while zooming in on his face with a perfect cut scream from someone-

He honestly doesn’t really care about the Kahoot game or more rather the meme moments he can capture and upload onto magicam-

Seriously dude-

But he names himself like with a shit ton of emojis. All lower case.

“cater”, “the diamond”, “UwU” 

Look it’s for the aesthetics-

Azul Ashengrotto

The perfect time to crush his classmates’ souls

Thanks to Idia, he got the best wifi amongst all the other Year 2s,

and he’s super smart

So he’ll get 1st.

Only first.

Can’t afford to get 2nd place.

If he didn’t he’ll remain calm in the class,

but back in his room he goes into a rage quit.

I think he’d be the type to get the first question wrong on purpose, just so they’ll answer all the questions right,

immediately jumping to 1st place to crush whoever got 1st place initially and presumes to maintain his place.

Another one who types in his normal, generic name.

“Azul”, “Azul Ashengrotto”

he doesn’t really do much

but imagine that monopoly meme just that phones are everywhere and he raises his own with that screen where you get first place in kahoot when the game ends?

That’s him.

Jade Leech

Plays it like a normal person-

Normal nickname with a mushroom emoji

Gets a decent 2nd - 4th place-

Next-

Floyd Leech

Purposely brought a laptop

Why?

To hack into the Kahoot

He type in a crack shit nickname and spam like 20000000000000000 of it into the Kahoot.

He’d also be the type to laugh at someone’s suffering when they dropped places.

He also hacks into some people’s Kahoot especially Riddle’s to mess up their answers-

As I said, he’ll give himself shitty, totally crackhead energy nicknames like idk-

“I heard you”, “My mix tape”, “loli” or some shit

List could go on-

Leona Kingscholar

Would go into the Kahoot,

and never play it cuz he feels it’s the perfect time to take a nap-

sleeps throughout the entire Kahoot-

so he’ll always get last place cuz he didn’t do shit-

Lilia Vanrouge

He is tech savy grandpa, alright?

And he’s the type to pick the weirdest most memeiest nicknames in exsistence-

“Call me Duty”, “Grandpa 2.0″, “Master Chef”, “Ulikelolis”, “Sexy Bread”, “Baby Bread”-

Ya name it-

he doesn’t really care what place he’s in

But he’ll sometimes look at the memes Cater posted-

Lmao-

Malleus Draconia

The true boomer

Seriously has no idea how Kahoot works-

Malleus bby-

He’s the true grandpa brain here when it comes to Kahoot-

Like bruh-

“Lilia, what’s those numbers?”

“To type in the PIN code,”

“Pin code??”

Writes the numbers down on a sticky notepad on his phone-

“I don’t have a pin. Maybe that’s why it’s not working??”

“Malleus, no-”

He so confuse-

His nicknames are like “Tsunotaro”, “Malleus”, “Gargoyles”

When he made it passed the PIN code that is-

Always asks Lilia or Silver for help.

[butchford]

Vriska

Sexuality Headcanon: Lesbian

Gender Headcanon: Trans girl

A ship I have with said character: VRISREZI. THEYRE EVERYTHING TO MY ASS. Girls who fucking tear each other to pieces but god they can’t live without each other. You killed me now you have to live with it. I killed you and I want to forget about you. Everything goes to shit more than usual. I die. I seek your ass out at the end of time and we hold hands as the sky shatters. I’ll still pickpocket your ass though. Our other selves will grow back together. In an us way. Jesus fucking Christ. You wounded me so bad and you’re the only one who can heal it. We grew up together. We grew apart. Godgodgod. And after fucking everything, we fell back in place.

A BROTP I have with said character: Big fan of her weird friendship with Karkat and weird respect for Kanaya. Tee bee aytch I think Dirk and her should be friends if not only for the comedic potential. He shows her Evangelion and she calls it stupid but picks up “What are you stupid?” And he points it out and she kills him but they’re a godtier so it’s fine. This happens semi weekly.

A random headcanon: Vriska would put on troll Instagram edgy pics with captions like “YOU FUCKING WISH YOU WERE ME #FUCK #H8 #DIE” and Terezi would spite like them.

General Opinion over said character: Vriska is so fucked up I love her dearly she grew up in a shitty society and was hard as shit on herself all the time because she had to feed random kids to her lucus and suffered a flarping incident that took her eye and arm and to counter how shitty she felt she hyped herself the fuck up all the time every day and looked up to her ancestor. Like. I heart Vriska. She did so many girls wrongs but man she was fucking 13 on Alternia. She made a version of herself who healed a bit after dying cry. She’s so much and one of my favorite characters. Heart.

[absurdjester]

GUYS I JUST REMEMBERED THE MOST THING THAT HAS EVER BEEN SAID TO ME:

Come back with me to the Spring of 2016, I have just begun to fall down the rabbit hole from General Musical Theatre Fandom Kid specifically into the Les Mis fandom. I have modpodged a bunch of memes onto my school notebook. The thing looks like I printed out my tumblr dash and glued it to the shitty binder plastic, mostly because I think that’s pretty much what I did.

I am talking to my best friend, who is patiently absorbing my impassioned infodump that is definitely definitely happening at a speed and pitch only audible to dogs. (It is 7 in the goddamn morning.)

At some point I have to stop for air, and in reference to one of the memes (probably Tveit!Enjolras with a caption in the classic white impact font, ah, simpler times…) and knowing that I had done enough time in the Star Trek fandom to understand the significance of the color red on a character’s odds of survival.

“I hope he isn’t

I think my heart made an audible cracking sound. And I just needed to pass that one on so I don’t have to suffer alone.

[agentofagony]

I NEVER see the Loki antis in the Young Avengers fandom notice that Loki did not intend to actively put Billy in danger? Obviously it was still shitty but the plan was 'make him choose between dying/leaving Teddy and giving me his powers temporarily' with the assumption that Billy was in a good place. Billy was suicidal, and as soon as Loki realizes this, they intervene and they feel awful since they can empathize. They change gears accordingly. That's the whole storyline: nothing goes how Loki calculated it would play out. It does not excuse their actions. Loki DID genuinely care about Billy though and they think of the team as their friends. Billy himself even acknowledged this and tells Loki he still cares about them, BUT that forgiveness isn't solely Billy's to give. Kind of love how well he clearly knows Loki lmao

Anon Idk why what are you talking about in the first half. Are you saying I'm an anti Loki? Because if you are then you're in for a ride bub I love him.

I'm not sure if I have adhd yet or not because therapy is hard to get around here but what I know is that I have a hyperfixtion on Loki to the point that the only other marvel characters I care about other than him are either has the same problems as Loki, and or I want him to interact with them(Doyle,clea, brucebanner, deadpool, ironlad/kang) ,or they're related to Loki(the young avengers, amora, thor), Or has a beef with Loki (doctor strange and bats duh), or Loki interacted with them once(wolverine, Spiderman, kamala)

But if you're saying you never seen an anti Loki's in the young avengers Fandom then guess again. I literally saw someone saying "fuck Loki, Angela should've been on the young avengers team instead " on Twitter which is hilarious because like Angela is very old, and the rinecruited/current Loki is considered/supposed to be a young adult . And another one reqouted with a gif of a women getting hit by a train with the caption" another young avengers story about Loki"(all thought they might meant they will get hit with emotions Idk)

I unknowingly rebloged a post from an anti Loki part of the young avengers talking about how Loki told Billy to kill himself(which after checking again because my memory is bad turned out to has never happened) in fact Loki stopped him from offing himself the two times he tried it. He even confessed his plan just to stop Billy from trying to kill himself.

I'm not sure when did I say Loki didn't care about Billy? Or the young avengers?? (sorry if I actually did at some point because again garage memory)

what I remember I did say "I don't understand why they care about Loki" because seriously even if he didn't intend to get to him attampt self deletion. He still made them suffer even if he didn't intend to.

In fact I believe the young avengers are the first actual friends Loki ever had beside Thor (yes kid Loki had Leah but we're talking about young Loki who happens to have old Loki's memories ).friends he actually felt welcomed with, related to, had fun with. We know for a fact Loki never had friends through out his childhood.

I'm not sure what part made you think I'm an anti Loki. Unless you stumbled across one of the posts and reblogs I expressed fear of the young avengers reunion story. Because if you actually bothered to look at my page and scrool through it even for a second JUST A SECOND you would've known :/

I'm scared from the young avengers reunion story not because I hate Loki but because what ever is gonna happen inside the story could be Loki's doing in a way because he's fucking Loki. You know shit is about to get fucked up when ever he's around because that's just what happens.

How many times did we have Loki messing shit up without intending to? It's like literally his thing.he mess things up and everyone get mad at him.

And different writers means different looks on how Loki should be. Alyssa wong have never wrote a story with Loki beyond Iligator Loki so it's understandable for me to feel scared from her story.

She would also be writing Loki iron fist #5 too and it looks like Loki is going to be one of the villians which is making me even more nervous.

Hopefully I would be wrong and Alyssa wong would actually not write Loki as the villian . But we have to wait and see. It seems like she might be the next writer after Jason Aaron to add Loki into every story she writes based on the fact, that's he has been added to two stories she's writing for.

[crossovereddie]

Thoughts on 11x06

I had to come back to type this after the episode. I was gonna wait to post until more people are active but everyone’s safety is more important than notes. This was really hard for me to watch. It took me two hours because I kept needing a break. It’s a tough one yall. It’s heartbreaking and really brought out issues I didn’t know I was still dealing with until I reacted so badly to some stuff. Take care of yourselves and I’m here if you need to talk. I’ll have timestamps for major tws in another post coming right after this. I just gotta go back and get the end of those scenes. I only go the time they started.

Okay. So. There’s some trigger warnings that I’ve reblogged earlier. This recap WILL have thoughts about those triggers. If you think you’ll be triggered just message me or send me an ask and I’ll give you the non triggering recap. Stay safe please.

Kev and v intro. They’re having sex behind the bar

I’m extremely nervous for some reason I might not be able to get through this

Bike heist!!

LICKEY RIGHTS

LIP CALLS HIM MICK

MISSION IMPISSIBLE

Mickey is unimpressed

Lip telling Mickey what to do yes please

Fucking Mickey omg

HE LOOKS SO GOOD

THE WAY HE SAYS BRAD

Again Mickey is unimpressed

Lip :(

MICKEY CONCERNED ABOUT LIPS SOBRIETY

AGAIN I SAY LICKEY RIGHTS

Frank is falling the chick he’s boning Monica

Not sure that’s her real name

Wait yeah it is

Frank??? Has to get to work???

Wait her name isn’t Monica

Oh shut now I get what’s happening

“Can I speak to Pope Francis please” LIAM 😭

Poor baby

Lip cooking breakfast. Hot.

I forgot about camis baby

I actually beep bad for lip and Tami

We already heard this argument with Mickey and Ian get new material writers

PRODIGAL THEIF

PINK BOX HES SO CUTE

HE LOOKS SO CUTE GOTTA SQUEEZE HIM PLS

Yeah don’t tell Carl that traitor

MICKEY BROUGHT DONUTS PLS

HES SO CUTE

ITS TOO MUCH

I LOVE HIM

HIS SMILE!!!!!!!!

GALLAGHER YOUTH

THAT MEANS MICKEY TOO BYE

CARL CALLING HIM MICK TOO PLS

I CANT TAKE IT

Poor Liam he’s terrified

“I was hoping the fucker would just die” :(

Shut up Debbie

Mickey is beautiful

Leave Mickey out of it debbie goddamn

I cant fucking stand her

Frank just observing his kids and smiling

Same frank

SHUT UP DEBBIE

OH MY GOD HIS LAUGH IS THIS WHAT YOU HEAR WHEN YOU FIRST GET TO HEAVEN????

“And the smartest” lol

Someone save Liam

“I want Sandy”

We all do kid

Fucking manipulative little I CANT STAND DEBBIE

Sandy deserves better

I hate the Milkovichs!!!!

How did smart sensitive sweet beautiful loving Mickey come from this disgusting family????

MICKEY IS THE BOSS

My heart hurts so him

“Homo sexy” dear god

Mickey is too good he deserves so much better

I love him so much

Let him be happy

Mickey has the biggest heart

They’re actually talking and not fighting

CHAPO STFU

You’re so funny and smart and beautiful don’t forget that baby

SUGAR TITS

And no one is fazed lmao

“He’s actually my uncle and my dad” I fucking hate this show

I forgot Carl makes legit money now

Wtf kinda school is this

This is so fucked up

The twins are so adorable

SHUT UP DEBBIE

“You guys” I hate that but also she’s acknowledging Mickey as “hers” and he’s family :(

Okay this horrifying comment

I hate that it’s just nonchalant

Debbie just keeps talking.

Let’s move on

Mickeys face when she says “butt naked”lmao

LIP CALLING HIM MICK AGAIN

“Talk to you for a minute?”

“Yes. Please”

I LOVE IT

Mickey is unimpressed by lip once again and I’m smiling

They love each other they’re secretly best friends ITS A FACT

HAND SHAKE SO CUTE

MY BABIES

“Blue like my balls” fucking frank lol

They’re going in on Frank’s storyline now

Boss Mickey at it again

Terry’s home

The way his face falls im sick

SANDY BABY

My heart is racing

Mickeys face is breaking my heart

Great now I’m crying

Mickey got emotional

Ian sensed it and touched his neck all fucking sweet

Okay I had to take a little break because I started crying

I love him too much

Fucking Noel is so damn good

My heart is fucking breaking

“Frank’s not a homophobic psychopath who tortured you for years”

Please Mickey deserves better

I don’t wanna hear any Ian slander either.

In this house we protect my son and my son in law I will fight you

“Let’s get the fuck outta here. Lip you coming?” 😭

That was so hard to watch yall. I’m not gonna lie to you. My parents weren’t half as shitty as terry but growing up feeling unloved your whole life fucks you up anyway and that brought out some emotions and feelings I didn’t realize I still dealt with. I had to pause for a good while and cry.

Leave Sandy alone debbie

Terry is disgusting

Okay the homophobic language he uses is definitely triggering so I’ll time stamp that too

Debbie you selfish bitch

Everyone leaving terry outside it’s a yes from me

I honestly can’t concentrate on the other scenes now I’m sorry y’all

I try to cover everyone’s scenes but it’s hard for me today

I’m not okay

Liam is too innocent poor kid

MICKEY LIP AND IAN THE BEST TRIO

We need more scenes

I PAUSED TO TYPE AND THE FUCKING LOOK HES GIVING HIM STOP

They’re besties

Mickey is beautiful

MY BABY BUSINESS BOSS MAN I LOVE YOU

he really hasn’t called him Philip the entire episode wtf

Ignoring Debbie

Now I want fries

Carl is cringy

Mickey drove them home and pulled a gun

Honestly again another heartbreaking scene

Ian’s trying to make him stop

Terry is disgusting and also a coward but we’ve been knew

Noel is the most amazing

Mickey gets teary but doesn’t cry bc I cried enough for the both of us

He’s the strongest bravest ever and I’m so proud of him

I need a hug

My heart hurts so much y’all

I just want him to be happy

I’m a fucking mess

I can’t handle Lip being emotional too

Oh I thought lip wanted to sell the house for himself only but at least they all get their share

Horrible music choice

I wanna tuck Mickey in with his favorite tv show on(911) make him his favorite food to eat in bed and not let anyone but Ian around him for a good 72 hours

The way Ian is looking at him

“Would you take care of me if I was paralyzed?”

“....yeah. Yeah”

“Top you whenever I wanted” “asshole”

His smile is back that’s all I need in life

MICKEY IS TOO GOOD FOR THIS WORLD

RIP DOWN THAT FLAG YES BABY

“That was big of you” “he’s an asshole...I wanna be better than that”

WHEN I TELL YALL I LOST IT I MEAN FULL ON SOBBING

YOURE ALREADY A THOUSAND TIMES BETTER THAN THAT PIECE OF SHIT

YOURE SO KIND AND BRAVE AND BEAUTIFUL INSIDE AND OUT

Ian’s like “back of the head? Gotta grab and hold my boy”

“You are so much better than that” IAN MY SWEET SON IN LAW I LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR LOVING OUR BOY SO WELL

IAN IS THE MOST SUPPORTIVE HUSBAND

V spitting truth

I want terry to fucking suffer

Don’t do it frank

“Nah” LMAO

Frank loves his son in law

Sandy I love you

I need to hold her

No debbie I LOVE HER

NO SANDY LOVE ME INSTEAD

DEBBIE DOESNT DESERVE YOU

Carl scene was so awful I feel so bad for him this girl is a fucking psycho

That was an actual rape scene what the fuck

Mickey making frank laugh

Debbie explaining? Really?

I hate her

“How long is this gonna take? I’m fucking starving Lip” WHY WONT YOU CALL HIM PHILIP

“We could get on with our lives” well that hurt more than it should’ve

It’s really the end soon huh? 😢

According to captions Ian says “we’re in”

Frank reads his diagnosis

Carl goes to report his rape

That took me nearly two hours to watch. Yeah I usually pause to type but I had to take long breaks after the hard scenes. It was a really hard episode to watch. A lot darker than it has been. I’m not really okay right now. It was emotional but a really good episode overall.

[wendystales]

Memories - lrh (Chapter Four)

Memories (also on Wattpad)

Chapter Three ※※※※※ Chapter Five

I absorbed and enjoyed the silence that was hovering around my house. I grabbed a glass of juice and sat down on the couch on the balcony. My mom left early for work, and Leah even tried to take me along for a photo shoot she was going to do in Venice. But, honestly, I'm not in the mood for dragging plaster casts around under the sun.

Not to mention that it is good to have moments alone to get my head straight. I know that in a little while it will be even harder to escape from these outings, I mean, I know I have to get back to my routine, but as long as I can avoid it, I will.

I put the juice on the table and pick up my diary. Unlike yesterday, I open it to the first page, like a book, and start reading. I go through a few pages about my feelings, about what I planned about my future, about my parents' divorce.

"I know it was inevitable. Anyone could tell how distant they were, I just didn't want it to be like that, that she suffered the same way I did. And I didn't want to feel that anger from him. But deep down, I know it's for the best.".

A few more pages telling about the scout who had seen me at the mall, the first photo shoot, the first runway show for a small clothing brand. Then arriving at the day I met Ashton.

"That one nobody expected/imagined/sought for. Ashton Irwin is my yoga partner!!! Mm-hmm, mm-hmm. Oh my gosh, I never would have imagined that. I was dying of nervousness about being the new student, then he comes and offers to be my duo and oh gosh, he's amazing. Super fun and nice. AND HE CALLED ME UP FOR COFFEE ON SUNDAY.

" Ashton and I sat at a table on the sidewalk. Under the table, I snapped my fingers in nervousness as I read the menu.

- Do you already know what you are going to order? - he asks. I pout and nod my head in denial.

- All I know is that I don't want espresso. - I comment.

- Can I recommend one? I think you'll like it, it's whipped with cream and chocolate, very sweet. - He points to the menu after I accept his suggestion.

- It amazes me how good you are at coffee. - I joke, making him laugh.

- I like coffee. I once took a tour of a coffee farm in the countryside right here in California.

Coffee becomes our first topic. Because he knows and understands coffee, Ashton convinces me to do a tasting at a promising coffee shop in Brentwood the next morning. It was not the kind of program I am used to doing, but everything is different now, my life has changed and so have my types of programs.

- You are lost being my friend, I will call you all morning for breakfast together. - Ashton comments as we drive along the sidewalks of Los Angeles.

My body shakes when it hears the word "friend". I still wasn't sure if I could consider Ash a friend, but now, I'm happy to know that I can and that he considers me too. "

The memory warms and cheers me up, giving me more desire to read and remember.

I don't realize how much I was smiling until my cheeks start to hurt. After that day, his name becomes very frequent, until it joins Leah's.

"I don't know how to explain this girl. She came in so confident and nose to nose, I was sure she would be insufferable, then she opened her mouth and all I could think was 'where has she been all my life? ' And I don't want to get my hopes up or be a pain in the ass, but she's also a model and she talked about me going to her father's agency and if that works out? it's one of the biggest agencies in the world, I'm going to take off. God, if this is your will...".

I laugh at the following narrations that already involve Ashton, Noah and Leah. I can't remember what is written, but my imagination gives me a warm, happy feeling in my body. And if the reality has been as fun and nice as what I imagined, then it was very good.

I feel my body shiver and a chill take over my stomach when I see Luke's name for the first time. I cut the pace of my reading, preparing myself for what was to come. I reach for another glass of juice, buying time and even courage to read the rest.

"I had already noticed him looking at me, I just didn't want to believe he was looking at me, and it was perfect like that, until Ashton brought him in. It's one thing to know who Luke is, it's another to talk to him. In the end it wasn't so bad. I guess. I just stared for the first hour at anything but him, but I guess he must have missed it. Now I'm in the dilemma of if he liked me, I mean, we spent four hours talking and nothing, no kiss, no phone exchange. NOTHING."

I laugh at myself. I can perfectly see myself being embarrassed by him and not being able to look him in the eye.. If I could go back in time, I would tell this Marnie that Luke really liked her, even though I only had a basis in videos and pictures.

I pick up my cell phone and open insta, going to the date that marked my diary. 07/06/18. It was Ashton's birthday party. I flip to the side and see a picture taken in Hawaii, with the caption "The one where we got lost". I turn the page and find that trip.

"I know I am committing one of the biggest follies of my life and deep down, I don't even know why. That's a lie, I do, but that's not the point. In fact, it is, but that's not what I'm going to talk about. Again, it is. The point is: I can't believe that at the last minute I agreed to go on a trip to Hawaii with a bunch of people I barely know. Except Ash, Noah and Leah. And P.S. Monday is his birthday. It only gets better.”

Apparently things between Luke and me went pretty quickly. I read a few more pages seeing that on his birthday, we had our first kiss and from then on everything happened too fast and messy.

I write about many fights and reconciliations. Both he and I, didn't want anything serious, but both he and I, couldn't stay away from each other and there was my reason.

"There is a good big part of all this blocking that I believe is because of what happened and because of me trying to pretend it didn't happen. Dr. Prescott says that if I don't put it out there and don't talk about it, it will consume me. 'Talking about our fears, worries and problems makes them smaller and easier to defeat.'

Besides my parents, no one else knows about that day."

I run my eyes quickly down the page, seeing that that one was about Stephen's cheating.

I close the journal in fear. I don't know what is coming, and I don't know if I have the courage to read it. It is one thing to hear about it from others, from their view and opinion, even if it is not on purpose. It's another to hear about it from my view, from what I've been through.

I have no doubt that there are things in these next pages that maybe even my parents don't know. Things and feelings that I have kept solely and exclusively to myself and I don't know if I am ready to face this, again.

I put down the diary and go in search of something else. Luckily for me, my guardian angel, aka Leah, calls me.

“Are you busy? I thought we could have lunch together. What do you think?” she bombards me, not letting me say hello.

“Hi to you too. No, I'm not busy, just reading my diary.” I run my hand over the cover, keeping in the back of my mind what awaits me. “ I'll take lunch.”

Before Leah can answer, I hear a muffled argument on the phone and wait for the fight to end.

“Sorry, but Noah is asking if he can come along.” she asks, without patience.

“Of course he can.” I hold my laughter, imagining the two of them fighting on the other end of the line.

“Okay, in a few minutes we'll be there. Kisses.”

I say goodbye to her and decide not to read the diary again. The doctor himself told me not to force myself into anything. I set the table and wait for the two of them to arrive.

After forty minutes, the doorbell rings. I make way for my friend and analyze the tall, muscular man behind her. Unlike my memory, the Noah of today has his hair well shaved and brunette, like his sister's. His green eyes fill with tears when he sees me crack a smile, and like his twin, he doesn't wait for permission and hugs me.

“Don't ever do that again, young lady. What a shitty world this would be without you!” he squeezes me before showering me with kisses, all over my face.

Leah turns and pulls him away from me, making me laugh. I follow them both into the kitchen and look at the bags they brought, excited.

“We made sure to stop by The Palm and pick up your favorite dish.” I didn't even know that I had a favorite dish at The Palm. But when Leah opens a box and I feel my mouth water when I see that noodle with shrimp, I realize how little I know myself.

“Have I ever told you that I love you?” I ask softly, with a smile.

We start lunch and today my attention was on Noah, after all he was the new thing. I listen to him tell about the day we met, when he began to advise my career with his sister, and how things have been going since the accident.

“You don't have to give any interviews if you don't want to.” he assures me once again.

I still don't know how to deal with this "public figure" business, but deep down I feel a need to give a "satisfaction" to everyone who knows me. Noah has already sent some notes about my condition, but I know that I will have to appear on some channel in the future.

We changed the subject and started talking about my amnesia. Noah was not very happy that my first memory was his hair fiasco. I commented that I was reading my diary and asked about some events.

“Are we really lost in Hawaii?” they both started to laugh and agree.

“That day I wanted to hit Mark. I was getting very angry that he could not accept that he was reading the wrong map. Not to mention the car dying and us pushing," Noah comments.

“Mark was never good with maps. He says himself that he was a lousy Boy Scout.” Leah says before drying her third glass of water.

“Who is Mark?” I question.

“Mark is an ex-lover of mine. At the time we were chatting and he had the house in Hawaii. One thing led to another and in the end he went along.” Leah ends with a frown.

“And why did we let him drive then?” I ask, full of curiosity. They look at me as if I know the answer. Or, as if I should, but I just raise my eyebrows, saying nothing.

“Because it's Mark.” Noah shrugs. “He likes to be in control of everything.”

“The one who was definitely happy with us there was that guy who owns the coconut stand.” Leah says.

So there it is, the little wooden stand, with a pile of coconuts in front of it. A short man, probably about 50 years old, laughing at our misfortune while selling the fruit to us. Images begin to form in my mind.

" “- Look there.” Kyleen and I focus on the little man laughing as he takes the money from Michael's hand. “He sure is very happy with us standing here.” Leah says.

“Of course he is. We already bought twelve coconuts from him. Bad little man.” I make a face.

“We're not lost. It's just a shortcut.” we cut off eye contact with the stand and focus on Mark arguing with Noah and Ashton.

Leah looked at her lover in total disbelief at what she had gotten herself into. If regret could kill. The next moment Mark stomps his foot on the floor, like a child with a temper tantrum. At that moment, Calum looks at me with wide eyes.

I look away so that he doesn't see me laughing. Kiki, who was behind me, slaps me to stop, but this only makes me want to laugh more. I hide my face in her arm and in the end, my laughter gets out of hand. Both she and Calum start laughing with me, causing the boys to look at us curiously.

It takes no more than five minutes for Mike to join in the laughter with us and soon everyone else was laughing except Mark. Even the little bad man was laughing. It was the worst thing about us being lost, but that's what was happening and it couldn't be anything but comical, even though it was sad too. ”

“Of course he was happy. He sold about fifteen coconuts for us.” I don't even try to control my smile. Once again I remembered, and this is more than great.

The twin couple in front of me crack a big smile too, and soon they are clapping their hands and stamping their feet on the floor, making noise. I clap my hands with them in celebration.

“She is coming back.” Noah comes around the table, hugging me from behind and again showering me with kisses.

I was never one to have many friends. Usually it was just Bethany and Stephen, and a girl in my music class, but I don't know if I can consider her that, after all, we only talked during class and it was all very unrelated.

The point is that I have always envied those people who managed to have a large number of friends, and friends really, not just colleagues. Friends who call you for everything, who are always by your side, who enjoy your company, and who consider you family.

In this moment, with just Noah and Leah, I can see that I finally have these friends that I have wanted so much and without having to pretend to be something that I am not, without having to buy their attention, as I felt I needed it with Bethany. And if I'm happy like this with just the two of them, I can't wait to see the others.

“So, you said you were reading your diary, did you remember anything else?” Leah asks excitedly.

All the happiness and euphoria that had surrounded my body disappears. The bloody page with the bloody day comes back into my mind. They both notice my mood drop.

“I remembered a day when I went to have coffee with Ash, but…” I play with the edge of my cup, trying not to get too much into that energy. “I found a day where I tell about what happened.” I look at them, who are serious and attentive.

“Do you want us to read it with you?” Leah holds my hand across the table, gently patting it.

I shake my head positively and point to the notebook on the coffee table in the living room. I watch her return with the notebook and hand it to me. I open it to the marked page and stare at my handwriting again.

"I haven't had the courage to tell either Ashton, Leah, or much less Luke. I can't tell if I'm ashamed of it or just afraid of it happening again. The problem is that it's really starting to get to me, to the point where I get irritated when I see Luke and Leah talking and it shouldn't be like that. So I need to get it all out so that I can start over.

It was our anniversary. I snuck out of my work to see Stephen at his house. I wanted to deliver his gift soon. Two streets before his house I ran into Noelle, his mother, and told her I wanted to surprise him, so she told me to get the key under the third vase and go in.

Maybe it would have been better just to ring the doorbell and not have to see it. I was very quiet so as not to be discovered, and in the end, I was the one who discovered something."

My racing heart hurts from beating so hard. I can't keep my breathing normal, holding it at various times. I feel like it's a suspense book where no one wants to find out what's behind the door of the abandoned house, but needs to, in order to continue the story.

I notice in some letters and words the ink smudged and I know it was from my tears and it only hurts me more.

"There is no word to describe the disgust, pain, and anger of seeing him and her in bed naked. My until then boyfriend, and my until then best friend.

And what only made it worse was that she didn't even try to explain herself, didn't show an ounce of regret, even if it was a pretense. Nothing. While he tried to say it was nothing like that, Bethany still says it had been going on for a long time."

I close the journal angrily and throw it away, stopping on the other side of the long table. The lump in my throat gets bigger, but I don't want to cry, not for this and not again.

Deep down, I have always had a flea behind my ear with the two of them. The countless rides Stephen insisted on giving her. The way she always motivated me to fight with him, for reasons I thought were small and insignificant. But it was my first serious relationship, what did I know about dating, right? Bethany, on the other hand, had dated seriously twice.

It had always been there, I just didn't want to see it.

“I always suspected it and never, never wanted to believe it. After all, he was my boyfriend and she was my best friend. They wouldn't be able to.” I let out a humorless laugh.

The twins look at me fearfully, as if I were a mother scolding them.

“But you know what the worst part is? I believed him. He looked me in the face and said that nothing happened. That Luke was to blame for our breakup! How stupid of me!” I shout, picking up the diary and throwing it further away, as if it would hurt Stephen.

“Wait, what?” Leah speaks loudly.

I look at her startled and realize what I said. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I didn't want anyone to know about the meeting.

“You met with Stephen? When?” she turns the table around, coming closer. I swallow dryly.

“Yesterday morning," I begin softly, but it was enough for Leah to cover her eyes with her hands and snort. Noah laid his head on his arms, sighing as well. “I was confused and needed to hear and see him.” I start to defend myself.

“After everything your mother told you about him?” Leah asks.

“And you think I would believe her? Would you? With amnesia on account?” I retort. Leah takes a deep breath and denies it with her head, giving me reason.

“But you could have told, or asked, I don't know.” Noah ponders.

“Nobody would have let me, I know nobody likes him and rightly so.” I give in.

“That explains a lot.” Leah comments softly, but loud enough for me to hear.

“Explains what?” I ask confused.

She looks at Noah, who nods, giving her the green light. Like me, she swallows dryly before she begins.

“Explain why Luke is so grouchy and weird. Not wanting to come see you.” he answers, poking at the seam of the chair.

NO! No! No! No! No! Please, no. He can't have seen.

“You have to take me to his house.” I ask, heading for the hall.

“What?” the two shout following me.

“I need to talk to him. Now!” I shout the last part, putting on a jacket with some difficulty.

“But why?” Noah helps me.

“Because I think he saw something that wasn't supposed to happen and got it wrong.” I open the door, going to call the elevator.

“Oh, no!” they understand and soon follow me.

Things between Luke and me may be messed up, but the last thing I want him to think is that I cheated on him.

[into-control]

someone k word me already. i cant do this anymore. i suffered enough brah. fish kiss, zombie walks, dog walks mishaps, pep making a fool out of her, cringy/disgusting pda, foot kissing. now the dog account and the shitty captions. like camila you don't know how my real life friends bombard me everytime this pr makes a fool out of you. I swear if covid wasn't a thing. I would have fly out to miami, la, ny and deal with your big ass forehead myself. at the same time break rogers glasses. 😭

lmfaooo