#this is at least what i've gathered from her talks and how streams look

[bulbtree]

Why is Deep-Sea Prisoner so popular outside Japan? I think there are more fan content abroad than Japan, including wikis.

I'm not sure about DSP being more popular outside Japan, mainly because JP fans don't have language and cultural barrier. Without that barrier, she would be certainly more well known in RPG community, with massive portfolio of work and 3 games. However, that same barrier is what makes her unique among overseas fans, and why they seem more engaged. Her style and style of storytelling, while not entirely uncommon to jp fans, is very unique overseas. Unfortunately, i don't think she would have had overseas fanbase if it wasn't for overseas Letsplays, which more or less discovered her via WatGBS And of course vgperson translations

[some-pers0n]

Hi I made a crackfic for Arctic's death because I had a terrible, horrible idea inspired by that old fandom meme. I don't regret anything <3

"Aaannnddd...perfect!" Darkstalker stepped back. "All set and ready to go. Haha! Look at him! Clearsight, look, c'mon. Come see."

"Darkstalker, I don't think this is a good idea–"

"Shut up woman and come look," he bluntly said. "Come on, it's not like the camera's gonna bite you or anything. Neither is Arctic, but, eh, maybe that'll add to the drama. The kids love it when people get hurt, it's why they watch it."

He grabbed the camera again and pointed it at Clearsight. "It's rolling. Come on, babe, don't you wanna do it? For the bit? Ohhh it'll be such a funny thumbnail. Everyone's gonna click on it. Just stick your head near him."

"I'm not going to bite an innocent dragon..." Arctic muttered.

"HA! Oh but it's okay for you to do that to me. Not cool dad. Mid dad behaviour, tee-bee-haitch. To be honest. Tee-bee-haitch– you get it."

"Back in my day we just called somebody a 'loser' if they were a bad parent. Like, me? I'm a dead-beat dad."

"Yeah, that's true." Clearsight nodded.

"But I'm not...mid? What does that even mean?"

"Mannn you so did not cook. 'Dead-beat'? Yeah, you're gonna be dead as hell once I'm done with ya. Like for real done. Dead. Deceased. Ain't coming back from that."

"God just kill me now," Arctic grumbled.

"In a minute! Me. I'm God. It's me. Get used to it :)"

"What was that sound you just made with your mouth--" Clearsight began but Darkstalker cut her off. He couldn't bother to hear such a whiny, woman voice. He needed to pay more attention to the crowd that gathered.

"Hey, hey! Guys! Check this out! I'm a livestreamer. I do all of these cool things on Twitch and YouTube. Follow me! My handle's Darksalter. Like Darkstalker, but salty, cause of all of the noobs I own on my daily League of Legends streams."

The surrounding NightWings just blinked at him.

"Ughhhh. How about you guys being recorded, huh? You get famous! Right here, right now, this is a big deal. No cap, this is serious. This is gonna be a livestream to end all livestreams. There's gonna be like at least ten dragons watching!!"

"OH MY GOD!?" One dragon shouted. "TEN??? I've never seen anybody have that many, hold on! We gotta watch this guy!"

Immediately, the entire population of the Night Kingdom arrived. Even the queen (a closeted Darksalter fan, who was wearing all of his merch) was waiting for him. They all cheered and clamoured for him.

"Settle, settle! I know you're all such adoring fans. Believe me, I would love me too. Already do! Such a great, handsome, all powerful animus." He flexed his muscles. "Plus, the ladies love me." He glanced back at Clearsight, who had the most aggressively unenthusiastic frown he ever seen.

"But, but, we gotta wait a minute. First, I gotta mew."

"What does that even mean?" Clearsight asked.

Darkstalker did not answer. He brought a talon up to his snout and then traced the outline of his perfectly gorgeous jawline. I mean just look at that thing. Downright beautiful. Like, come on now. Look him up right now. Yeah, yeah! The thang of all time! That sweet, succulent jaw. Bro's been mewing since the day he was hatched.

[A/N: it is a pretty cool jawline]

He cleared his throat. "Anyways, enough talk. You had your shot for the thumbnail, so now it's all about me." He looked at the camera and enchanted it to float. It hovered above, pointing at him. "Three, two, one..." He clapped. "And we're live!"

The crowd cheered and roared as he did so. No omegaluls. No minus ones. He was an unboxing andy just about ready to tear open into his best work yet.

"Hey what's going on Stalker Gang! How are the stalkers in chat going? Can we get the hype train going?" He gestured to the crowd, which yelled and screamed louder. "Yeah!! Let's go Stalker Gang!!"

"Darkstalker...this isn't you." Clearsight sobbed. "You don't do this. You aren't like this!"

"Baby, I'm an influencer. It's my duty as Twitch's No. 27 streamer of all time!"

Clearsight cried more but Darkstalker did not care. He turned back to the camera. "Ayyy guys!" He clasped his talons. "So, today is a very, very special day, because we have a guest! That's right, my terrible, very uncool, incredibly mid father! Look at him. Blue pilled in every sense of the word. Even his blood's blue, which y'all are gonna see real quick." He pushed the camera directly in his face.

"Hey, hey, everyone!" He gestured to Arctic. "Can I get a 'boo' from you all?"

With his command, the crowd began to jeer at Arctic. A wave of rotting tomatoes came hurling his way, splattering against his face.

"And, with that being said, this stream is sponsored by Glep. Get a Glep. Now. Or else. You don't wanna be there when Glep is upset. That's how the last moon was destroyed." He stared silently into the camera for a minute, as customary with the Glep sponsors.

"NOW!! Let's get this going!" He pointed at Arctic. "You. Unbox yourself."

"Wh–" Arctic didn't have a chance to finish before he clawed at his torso and gutted himself. The crowd kept cheering and applauding and tossing money at Darkstalker.

"Woah woah, pretty messy, huh guys?" He raised an eyebrow. "Totally unpoggers. L behaviour. Boo!!" But when he turned back, he noticed that everyone stopped cheering.

"Bro, dude," one dragon began, "poggers is so, like, old man. That's so cringe, skull emoji."

Then, they began to dissipate. Quickly as they arrived, they left. He was cringe now. So cringe.

"No, NO! Wait! Come back! I'm still relevant! I'm still hip with the kids! I– I..." But it was too late. He was cancelled for being cringe. Everyone was bored by him. He was out-of-touch. He was out of time. He was out of his head when they're not around.

Behind him, he heard his sister, Whiteout, crying. He turned back to see that her favourite stim toy, a rainbow coloured pop-it shaped like a crewmate from Amomg Us, was lying on the floor. Things must be serious.

"Sis, are you upset at me?..." he muttered.

"Yes! You just unboxed our dad! My trauma points are like so high right now. I can't even..." She wiped her tears and kept crying.

Darkstalker looked back at Arctic, who was dead. Very dead. He growled. "When I'm the alpha king of the world, everyone will be my fan. Everyone will follow me! Everyone will like and subscribe! You'll see, you'll all see!"

[oldiesstationlover11607]

Okay so for this request I would like a nerdy reader x basketball player Tyler high school moment !! Maybe they get paired together for a project in class and reader has always liked Tyler but has been too shy to talk to him but they realize they both love music and maybe Tyler asks her to a dance at the end or something equally fluffy and cute 😊😊😊

School Project - Tyler Joseph x Nerd!Reader

Warnings: Slight angst - argument

Word Count: 3603

A/N: Loved writing this ngl... I've worked with people who were just like this and I was so frustrated so totally love this. Hope you like it too!!

PART 2

“Tyler and Y/N.” Mrs. Davis’s voice cut through the classroom, and my stomach sank as soon as I heard it. Of all the people I could have been paired with for the project, it had to be him. Tyler Joseph. The guy everyone knew. The captain of the basketball team, the one with the bright smile and the group of friends who seemed to orbit him like he was the sun. And me? I was the quiet one who sat in the back, hoping to be invisible. Of course, I knew who Tyler was. How could I not? I’d noticed him long before this. In fact, I’d liked him for a while now, though I was pretty sure he didn’t even know I existed. So when I heard my name paired with his, I thought there had to be some mistake. But no—his eyes briefly flickered toward me, before he turned back to his friends, as if it was nothing. Like it didn’t matter at all.

But it did. To me, at least.

After class, I tried to gather my things as quickly as possible, heart racing, a nervous knot tightening in my stomach. Tyler was still surrounded by his friends, laughing, joking, the center of attention as usual. I considered slipping out unnoticed, but then his gaze landed on me, eyebrow raised. He was waiting for me to say something.

“So… when do you want to start working on the project?” I mumbled, barely looking up.

His friends snickered behind him, but Tyler just shrugged, not even bothering to fully turn toward me. “I don’t care. Whenever.”

The casual indifference stung more than I wanted to admit. I nodded, feeling my face heat up. “How about Saturday at the library?”

“Sure,” he replied, still distracted by his friends. And that was it. No enthusiasm, no real interest. Just… “sure.”

By the time Saturday rolled around, I was a bundle of nerves. I got to the library way too early and sat at a table by the windows, anxiously watching the door every time someone walked in. When Tyler finally showed up, my heart leapt. He was wearing his usual Ohio state basketball hoodie, left hand in his pocket, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. I braced myself for an awkward day, but then I noticed something strange. In his other hand, he was holding a small box. 

“Hey,” he said, a little less cool and distant than before. “I, uh, brought donuts. Didn’t know if you’d eaten.”

I blinked at him, surprised. He handed me the box, and I awkwardly took one, not sure what to say. This is… not what I expected. Tyler sat down across from me, not saying much at first, but there was no group of friends here, no audience to impress. It felt different. “So, what’s the plan?”

I opened my notes, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “We need to divide the research on the Civil War. I was thinking I’d handle the causes, and you could work on the key battles?”

Tyler nodded absently, barely looking at me. His attention kept drifting back to his phone, where I noticed he had a live stream of a basketball game playing.

“Are you serious?” I blurted, unable to hold it in anymore. “You're really going to watch the game while we work on this?”

He glanced up, surprised by the sudden bite in my tone. “What? It’s the state game. It’s not like I need to be staring at the research the whole time.”

I crossed my arms, my frustration bubbling over. “I get that you don’t care about this project, but I do. And if you’re just gonna sit there distracted, why did you even bother showing up?”

His expression hardened slightly, and for a moment, I thought he might snap back. But instead, he sighed and put his phone down, though not without a hint of reluctance. “Fine. I’m here. Let’s do this. I bit my lip, the tension between us thick. “Thank you,” I muttered, flipping through my notebook, trying to focus on the research.

For a while, we worked in silence, the awkwardness palpable. I kept sneaking glances at Tyler, wondering what his deal was. Was he always this dismissive? Or did he just not care because it was me?

After what felt like forever, he finally broke the silence. “So… what kind of music do you listen to when you study?”

The question threw me off, mostly because it came out of nowhere. “Um, I don’t know. Alternative, mostly.”

He looked a little surprised. “Really? Me too. I love that stuff.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “You do?”

His face lit up, and it was like a different version of Tyler appeared, one who wasn’t so detached and uninterested. “Yeah. Have you heard the new My Chem album?”

I shook my head. “Not yet. I’ve been meaning to.”

“You should,” he said, his voice softening in a way I hadn’t heard before. “It’s amazing. The lyrics… they really get to you, you know?”

There was something genuine in the way he said it, and for the first time, I saw past the surface of the guy I’d built up in my head. Tyler wasn’t just the basketball star everyone admired. He was more than that.

For the next hour, the tension between us eased, and we talked about music in between bouts of research. The conversation felt… normal. Almost easy. And the longer we worked together, the more I started to see a different side of him. One that wasn’t trying so hard to be cool or detached.

But as the library lights flickered, signaling it was closing time, Tyler’s phone buzzed with a notification. His attention shifted immediately, and the wall between us went right back up. “Gotta go,” he said, already halfway out of his chair. “I’ve got practice tomorrow, so we’ll just pick this up later.”

I watched him leave, my chest tightening with frustration. Typical. He was nice for a minute, but at the end of the day, basketball always came first.

The next day at school, I tried to brush it off. It wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t like I expected Tyler to suddenly care about me or this project. But when I saw him in the cafeteria, sitting with his usual group of friends, laughing and carefree, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of something I didn’t want to admit—disappointment.

Later that afternoon, I texted him, asking when he wanted to meet again to finish the project.

His response was short: “After practice. Don’t worry, we’ll get it done.”

I rolled my eyes at my phone, the frustration building again.

By the time we met again later that evening, the air between us was tense. Tyler sat across from me, scrolling through his phone for what felt like the hundredth time. I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Do you even care about this at all?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

He looked up, frowning. “What? I said I’ll help. Chill.”

“Chill?” I echoed, incredulous. “I’m doing all the work, Tyler. You’re barely paying attention. You couldn’t even come to the library without bringing a basketball game with you!”

He stared at me for a moment, his expression unreadable, and then he put his phone down with a sigh. “Look, I know I’ve been a little distracted, but I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“Physically, maybe,” I muttered under my breath, feeling a lump form in my throat. “You don’t even care about this project.”

“I never said that,” Tyler countered, his tone softer now, but still defensive. 

“Didn’t have to,” I retorted. 

“I’m just not used to spending my Saturdays doing research. I’m trying, okay?” 

I looked at him, feeling a mix of frustration and something else—something I couldn’t quite put into words. “I just… I don’t get why you’re even bothering.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then, quietly, he replied, “Because it’s not just about the project.”

His words hung in the air between us, and I stared at him, trying to understand what he meant. But before I could ask, he looked away, his walls going back up.

“Let’s just finish this,” he said, picking up his pen, his voice flat again.

The following Monday, school felt a little different. I didn’t think much of it at first—just the usual pre-test tension in the air, people chatting in clusters about how they were not ready for another round of finals. But then, at lunch, something unexpected happened.

I was sitting at my usual spot, tucked away in a quiet corner of the cafeteria, when I saw Tyler walking toward me. At first, I thought he was just passing by. Maybe heading to the table full of his friends, where the laughter was always loudest. But instead, he stopped right in front of me.

“Hey,” he said, looking down at me with that same casual coolness he always had, but there was something softer in his expression this time.

I blinked, taken off guard. “Hey...”

“You mind if I sit?” he asked, gesturing toward the empty seat across from me.

Was he serious? I nodded, still a little stunned. “Sure, go ahead.”

He slid into the seat, ignoring the whispers and glances from the nearby tables. I couldn’t help but feel like I was suddenly the center of attention, and it made my skin prickle with nerves.

“We still need to finish up the last part of the project,” he said, taking a bite of his sandwich, like it was the most normal thing in the world to sit with me in front of everyone. “I was thinking we could meet up again tomorrow after school.”

I nodded slowly, my mind still racing. “Uh, yeah, that works for me.”

From the corner of my eye, I noticed his friends watching us. One of them—Ryan, I think—called out from across the cafeteria. “Yo, Ty! You ditching us for the nerd table now?”

My heart sank, and I glanced down at my tray, suddenly feeling like the whole cafeteria was staring. But Tyler didn’t flinch. He just rolled his eyes and called back, “Shut up, man. We’re just working on a project.”

His friends snickered, but he ignored them, turning back to me like nothing had happened. The knot in my stomach loosened a little, but there was still a lingering awkwardness that I couldn’t shake.

“So,” he continued, completely unfazed, “about the oral presentation part. Are you good with that?”

I bit my lip, hesitating. The truth was, no, I wasn’t comfortable at all. The idea of standing up in front of the entire class and speaking made my stomach churn. But before I could answer, Tyler seemed to read my mind.

“You’re nervous, aren’t you?” he asked quietly, his voice softer now.

I nodded, feeling my cheeks heat up. “I’m not good at talking in front of people. I… I don’t think I can do it.”

Tyler frowned slightly, leaning back in his chair. “Don’t worry about it. I can handle most of it, okay? You just back me up. We’ll make it look like it was all you.”

I looked at him, wide-eyed. “What? No, I can’t let you do all the work—”

“You’re not,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “You did all the research. I’ll just talk. It’s not a big deal for me.”

“But—”

“Hey,” he cut me off again, his voice firm but kind. “Seriously. I’ve got you.”

There was something about the way he said it, like it was the simplest thing in the world, that made my anxiety ease just a little. I nodded, grateful but still unsure how I’d repay him for this.

The day of the presentation arrived, and my heart was pounding in my chest as we stood in front of the class. Tyler looked calm, like he always did, and as he started speaking, it was like all eyes were on him. He was natural at this—confident, charismatic. But every so often, he’d glance at me, as if to check in, like he was reminding me that he had my back.

When it was my turn to talk, Tyler gave me a small, reassuring nod, and I somehow found my voice. I stumbled through my part, my hands shaking slightly, but Tyler was right there, smoothly picking up where I left off. It was like he knew exactly when I needed him to step in.

By the time we finished, Mrs. Davis was beaming. “Great job, both of you. It was clear you worked really well together.”

Tyler grinned and, without missing a beat, said, “Y/N did most of the work. I'm just lucky I got paired with her.”

I blinked, startled. The class turned to look at me, but this time, I didn’t feel quite as anxious. It was strange—he didn’t have to say that. He could’ve taken all the credit, and no one would’ve questioned it. But he didn’t.

After class, I was putting my books in my locker when I heard footsteps approaching. I glanced up, expecting to see someone else, but there was Tyler, leaning casually against the locker next to mine.

“You did great today,” he said, his voice low, a hint of that same smile playing at his lips.

I shook my head, smiling nervously. “You basically carried the whole thing.”

He shrugged. “Nah. You were solid. Told you I had you, didn’t I?”

I bit my lip, unsure of what to say. I was still trying to wrap my head around this whole new dynamic between us when he suddenly spoke again.

“Hey, I’ve got a game this Friday,” Tyler said, his voice quieter now, almost shy. “You should come.”

I looked at him, surprised. “I… I don’t usually go to games.”

“Then change it up,” he said with a small smirk. “Come see me play. And, uh, maybe after, we could... hang out?”

I blinked, trying to process what he was saying. “You want me to come to your game?”

He nodded, a little more nervous than I’d ever seen him. “Yeah. I mean, it’s our last one of the season. Kind of a big deal.”

I hesitated, but the hopeful look in his eyes made me nod before I could talk myself out of it. “Okay. I’ll be there.”

Tyler’s smile grew, and for the first time, I felt like I wasn’t just another background character in his world. Maybe, just maybe, I was someone he actually saw.

The rest of the week passed in a blur of nerves and anticipation. Every time I thought about going to Tyler’s game on Friday, my stomach flipped in a way I couldn’t quite explain. It wasn’t just the idea of sitting in the bleachers, surrounded by his friends, cheering for someone like him—someone who lived in a completely different world from me. It was the fact that he had asked me to be there. Tyler Joseph wanted me—me—to come watch him play.

By the time Friday night arrived, I was a bundle of nerves. I hadn’t told anyone I was going, not even my few close friends. It felt too personal, like this moment between Tyler and me was something that belonged to us alone.

When I got to the gym, the place was packed, like it always was for the final game of the season. The bleachers were buzzing with excitement, filled with the usual crowd of students, teachers, and parents. I felt out of place as I made my way toward the back, finding a seat high enough that I could fade into the background, but still close enough that I could see the court clearly.

The game started, and from the moment Tyler stepped onto the floor, the crowd erupted into cheers. I watched as he moved across the court with the same ease and confidence he always seemed to carry with him. He was in his element here—fast, precise, like he was made to play basketball.

And yet, every time I saw him glance up into the stands, I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, he was looking for me.

The game was intense. Both teams were neck and neck, the score climbing higher with every passing minute. But in the final quarter, our team pulled ahead. The crowd roared, and Tyler was at the center of it all, leading his team with that same quiet determination I’d seen when we worked together in the library.

When the final buzzer sounded, signaling their victory, the gym exploded with cheers. Students poured onto the court, celebrating the team’s win, and I watched from my seat, feeling strangely proud. I hadn’t been a part of this world, but I could see how much it meant to everyone. And to him.

I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do now. Should I leave? Wait for him? The thought of pushing through the crowd to find him felt daunting, but before I could make up my mind, the loudspeakers crackled, and suddenly, a familiar beat started playing.

My heart stopped.

It was my song.

I blinked in disbelief as the opening chords of ‘Every Breath You Take’ filled the gym. I glanced around, but no one seemed as shocked as I was. In fact, people were smiling, pointing toward the center of the court, where Tyler stood, holding up a giant sign.

Prom?

My breath caught in my throat. Was this really happening?

The crowd around him parted, and Tyler looked up into the stands, directly at me. His grin was wide, confident, but there was something in his eyes that looked almost… nervous.

I was frozen in place, my heart pounding so loudly I could barely hear the music. Tyler was still standing there, waiting, holding that sign like it was the most natural thing in the world. The crowd started chanting, “Say yes! Say yes!” and I felt the heat rise to my cheeks.

Without thinking, I stood up, my legs shaking as I slowly made my way down the bleachers. The gym seemed impossibly loud, but all I could focus on was Tyler, standing there in the middle of the court, waiting for me.

As I reached the bottom of the stairs, the crowd parted to let me through. Tyler lowered the sign slightly, a nervous smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You came,” he said, his voice just loud enough for me to hear over the noise of the gym.

I nodded, still in shock. “Of course I did.”

He grinned, stepping closer. “So… what do you think? Want to go to prom with me?”

For a moment, I could hardly speak. I was standing here, in front of the entire school, with Tyler Joseph—someone I’d admired from afar for so long—asking me to prom in a way that was so much bigger than I’d ever imagined. And yet, all I could focus on was the way he was looking at me, like none of the other people here mattered.

I smiled, my heart swelling with a mix of disbelief and happiness. “Yes. Of course.”

The crowd erupted into cheers, and Tyler’s grin widened. Without missing a beat, he dropped the sign and pulled me into a hug, lifting me off the ground for a brief second as the gym filled with applause. My heart raced, not from the noise or the attention, but from the fact that Tyler was holding me like we were the only two people in the room.

When he set me back down, I could barely breathe, my face still flushed from the unexpected whirlwind of emotions. Tyler leaned in closer, his voice low, meant only for me.

“I was worried you might say no,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, suddenly shy.

I laughed, still trying to wrap my head around everything. “Why would I say no?”

He smiled again, that familiar confidence returning. “I don’t know. Maybe because I’m not always the easiest person to be around.”

“You’re not,” I teased lightly, remembering the way he acted around his friends, how distant and uninterested he seemed at first. “But you’re not as bad as you think.”

Tyler chuckled, his eyes softening. “I’m glad you think so.” He glanced around the gym, where people were still cheering and clapping. “Sorry for, uh, making this a huge thing. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”

I shook my head. “No, it was perfect. Really.”

“Good.” He smiled again, but this time, it felt more genuine, more real. “So, prom. You in?”

I nodded, feeling the butterflies in my stomach fluttering again. “I’m in.”

Tyler grinned, looking relieved. “Awesome. And, hey, maybe before prom, we can hang out more? Just us. You know, without the whole school watching.”

I smiled, feeling my nerves settle. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

The crowd around us began to dissipate, but Tyler stayed close, his hand brushing against mine as if he wasn’t quite ready to let go of this moment. And neither was I.

As the music faded and the gym started to clear out, I realized something. This wasn’t just some fantasy anymore. Tyler wasn’t the untouchable basketball star I’d always imagined him to be. He was real, and he’d seen me in a way I hadn’t expected.

And for the first time, I didn’t feel like I was in the background anymore. I was part of his world now.

//

REQUESTS OPEN

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader City Girls Part 8/8

I've put you through it with this fic. Cheers to the last part!

There will be an Epilogue.

⚠️ Warning ⚠️

+18

Reader plays for the Man City girls academy. She struggles a bit but gets Ruben to mentor her. The the two don't hit off despite having many things in common. It all gets worse when Reader eventually catches feelings for Ruben.

Enjoy!

You were on the floor in the guestroom, packing your suitcase.

"What are you doing?"

Ruben had returned to the apartment after you since the two of you obviously didn't go home together.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

You packed your bag with haste, throwing your clothes in without folding them. Ruben's presence behind you did not disturb, it only fueld your anger.

"Are you leaving?"

A shadow was casted over your shoulder as he approached.

"Y/N, talk to me. Why are you packing your things?"

"Because, Ruben..."

You stood and made the attempt to shove him. But Ruben barley swayed as your palms hit his chest. However, his expression faltered as he was quite suprised to see tears streaming down your face.

"Y/N, what's wrong?"

"You're wrong Ruben. You've ruined my life, and don't even think about lying to me, Ester told me everything."

Ruben sighed, a hand running down his face before he folded his biceps in front of him. "I did it for us Y/N, you're friend was gonna tell the club officials, threatening to end both mine and your career with the club."

"So you threw mine under the bus by lying to the coaches on the first team, getting them to replace me with Ester. Ruben, there is no us in this, you did this for yourself, not caring what happened to me."

"Y/N." Ruben's sudden step forward made your heart clench. "You are to good to ignore." He said, eyes burning passionately for you. "I mean look at how you played today, there is no way the first team won't realize their mistake and let you back in. Yes, it might have been a gamble from my side but trust me, it's gonna pay off." Ruben's hand wighed heavily on your right shoulder, his thumb stroking gently across your collarbone. The touch was alluring, but you gather all strength to shrugged his hand away. "Ruben, not now or ever will I trust you again. I'm moving out."

"Come on Y/N, don't leave?"

You returned to your suitcase, snapping it shut. Turing back around, bag in your hand, you sighed seeing Ruben practically block the doorway. "Where are you gonna go huh? Back to Ester?" There was a hint of concern in his voice. "You can't leave in the middle of the night. I won't let that happened."

"Ruben, get out of my way."

"Y/N, I can't let you leave like this. At least let me make things right between us."

"Ruben, there is no us. You literally brought your girlfriend to fucking Cityzens Day."

"But I want to be with you."

He neither denied or confirmed the fact that the woman was his girlfriend. Maybe that's what hurt you the most.

"Welp....my feelings aren't mutual Ruben. Now get out of my way."

His hand stopped you as you made the attempt to leave. It made you lightheaded, his touch, among other things.

"Y/N." His voice was low. "I know how much you want me. I could see it today....on the pitch. You wanted me so bad."

"Yes, I wanted you Ruben. I wanted to beat you."

That was a lie, you wanted more. How did he know that you wanted more?

"Stop lying to yourself Y/N. You want me, just as much as I want you."

"I don't."

"Don't lie."

"I'm not."

He smiled. "Then why are you shaking?"

You were standing so close. Ruben's hand moved down to grab the suitcase from you, feeling how your body trembled against him. It wasn't because of the rage, but something more. You trembled because you held back from throwing yourself into his arms.

Ruben caught you with slight urgency, dropping the suitcase in the process. "You played so good today, so fucking good." He said.

"Yes, I was better than you."

He laughed into your mouth. "Don't push it."

There was nothing sensual about the way you devoured each other. In the process of kissing it look like the two of you tried to wrestle each other to the floor. Ruben grabbed your ass, lifting you up in the process. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms clinging onto the back of his neck, pressing his lips against yours. It was bruising kisses, sloppy and unprecise. You bounced in his arms as Ruben carried you down the hall, his mouth leaving hickies on your neck.

"I want to show you something." He mumbled.

"Yes, show me something, anything."

You threw your head back, offering Ruben to bury his face between your breast. He did so, teeth nipping your shirt in attempt to rip the fabric.

"Wait."

"Ruben, what is this?"

You draped your shirt over your head. Ruben's eyes glowed at the sight of your bra. "You're so perfect." He sighed and to your dissatisfaction he put you back down on the ground. Only now did you notice where he had taken you. "I've been wanting to show you this for a while...." Ruben fiddled for something in his pocket, a key. You stood in front of a door, THE door. He unlocked it, guiding you inside. It looked to be a spare chamber. It was poorly lit, however, you could outline a large bed in the corner and a fuzzy mat on the floor. There was also something hanging from the ceiling. Leather ropes.

He bent down, pressing his lips to the lobe of your ear, whispering the words. "My playroom."

You gasped, but not out of suprise. Standing behind you, Ruben had gone to unclasp your bra, letting it fall to the floor. The cold sensation over your chest errect your nipples, making them hard like pebbles.

"Sit. On you knees."

"So that's it then." You asked, not even suprise that Ruben found these sort of things exciting.

Ruben pointed to a spot on the floor. The fuzzy mat. You felt compelled to do as he said. You then watched Ruben cross the room, retrieving somthing from a drawer, a pice of fabric. A tie. "I'm gonna tie this over your eyes so that you can't see me. Then I'm gonna tie your hands to your back so that you can't touch me. And then your gonna let me fuck your mouth until you gag."

"I'm your mistress. I've been so all along."

"What?" He stretched out the tie between his hands.

"My what?" He chuckled.

"Your toy Ruben." It was so obvious. How hadn't you seen it earlier. The lies, the favors, and him practically keeping you here at his apartment. You were just a tool to him. "I'm your toy Ruben. Something you can play around with when you get board of your life, which seems to be very often. That's why you've kept me here in this apartment like some dog waiting to be walked. It can't be your only home. Where do you really live?"

He smiled, bringing the tie to your eyes. "You know....I really care for you Y/N. I still don't understand why you won't let me take care of you? There were others before you, not as desperate, but equally as naive. They wanted me to help them and so I did. It was a fare trade, nothing too complicated. But with you..." He tied the fabric behind your head, cutting off your view of his smug appearance. "I just can seem to figure you out. Is it just the football that drives you? In that case we are more alike than you think."

"I'm nothing like you."

"No."

"No?"

You heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, followed by his zipper.

"Who are you like then, Neymar?"

It was evil, his laugh. So evil. You felt so small, curled up on your knees. Ruben hadn't gone to tie your hands behind your back so if you wanted to you could remove the blindfold and just get up and walk out. However you didn't, you were that attached to him.

"Y/N?" You heard him sigh.

Thinks we're quiet around you. No movement and no efforts for Ruben to have his way with you.

"Fuck." He cursed.

Suddenly you could see again. Ruben had gone to remove the blind fold. He was standing before you, shirtless and a rock hard dick hidden beneath his unbuckled belt. "I won't fuck you if you're crying." He said, standing back, observing you disapprovingly.

"You let me leave, forget this ever happened."

"Gee thanks." You wiped your tears. Your legs were too numb for you to stand, but Ruben saw you make the effort and bent down to scoop you up in his arms, plotting you down on the bed.

"Now what?" He said.

"What if I don't want to forget you?"

You looked up at him and saw the slight conflict that was happening inside, how he really didn't want you to go. Perhaps apart of him did want you?

"Kiss me." You said, to which his eyes widened in suprise. Nevertheless, you did not have to tell him twice. "Not there." You flinched as Ruben leaned forward attempting peck your lips.

"Where?"

"Good boy."

Like a lost puppy he was pouting his lips. You fell back on your elbows, shifting one leg to the side to spread your thighs before him. "There." You smirked. "Kiss me there." Ruben's breathing rose with his excitement. You were letting him have you, but he was completely under your control.

He peeled down your jeans and got on his knees before the bed. Your hands tugged his hair with the first lick. He was rough, even with his tounge.

"Not like that." You whined. Ruben lifted his head from between your legs, his gaze foggy. "You don't like what I'm doing to you baby?"

"No, go slower."

He went down on you again, taking his time. The dimmed lights in the room fuled the pleasure running down your spine. You arched your back and hooked a thigh over Ruben's shoulder. He hymned in satisfaction, tasting the splurging pool between your legs.

You sat up, biting down on your lip. You could see the hunger in his eyes, how he could barley focus on anything but your aching breasts.

"Yes, right there Ruben. I'm gonna...I'm gonna." You melted into the bed, loosing all senses of yourself. Ruben got up from the floor, observing what had become of you.

"What now?" He asked, anticipating your answer.

"You want to suck them don't you?"

His head nodded slowly.

"Come here."

You perked up on the bed, arching your chest towards him. Ruben crawled towards you cautiously, like a lion, about to kill his pray.

"Sit." You ordered.

Ruben did just that, pausing all efforts to get to you. It turned him on, you could tell. You were challenging him, just like you had done on the football field.

"I won't let you suck them, I changed my mind."

He frowned, but did not move a muscles.

"Your gonna watch me." You said, resting your head against the pillows. "Watch me enjoy myself."

"Come here."

You couldn't help but to feel for Ruben as you tortured him by pleasing yourself.

"No." You hissed as his hand disappeared down his pants in effort to stop the throbbing twitch of his cock. "Not until I'm done." He watched you grind against your hand, pumping two fingers deep. Ruben lowered his head as if ashamed, as if defeated. You felt sorry for him. You stopped touching yourself.

He raised his chin, but did not look to believe you. Maybe you would deny him again.

"I want you, come."

He got closer to you on the bed but just as he could stretched out and touch you, you rolled over, giggling to yourself.

"That was fun. But yeah, I'm leaving."

You jumped down from the bed but got snatched back by the throat.

"Don't fucking play with me."

"Fuck me." You said. "As if it was the last time."

"Ruben." You cried. He held a thigt grip around your throat, pinning you down against the matress, with the help of his body weight. Pathetic, you thought. He could have you, but it would be the last time. Your hand went to caress the side of his face, scratching his bearded. Ruben's grip around your throat loosened but did not let go.

He caught your leg under his arm, folding it against your stomach as you opened up before him. His hands trembled pulling himself out of his pants. It would be quick, he was so hard. A sigh of satisfaction when he entered you. Two sloppy strokes and he was already moaning your name.

"I love you."

"You don't." You smiled. "But keep going. That feels good."

His hips thrusted against you with force, hitching your breath with every stroke.

He didn't, you thought. You were just two people. Two bodies. Tearing each other down.

Por favor Y/N, fique comigo, eu te amo. (Please Y/N, stay with me, I love you.)

Ruben collapsed on top of you with a loud groan. He fell asleep right after. Your bags were already packed and so you got up and left the apartment. Where you would go next you had no idea, but you were not giving up. You were not giving up on your dreams.

The End

[elles-home]

i think if sanji and yamato took a moment they could be fast friends bonding especially so on fucked up dads and even more fucked up childhoods

they get so close in wano, after the battles and in that short period before they disembark from the land of wano. everyone thinks they're dating because sanji makes an extra set of snacks and drinks when he seeks yamato out for their late night talks and sanji only makes special snacks for girls and people he has crushes on (and luffy but that's something else entirely)

nami and usopp try to figure out if they're dating but she's so skeptical (nami, who finds sanji's flirting cringe even though she humors it endearingly: sanji? pull yamato? be serious, usopp. vs usopp, who has been on the other end of sanji's kindness and can see how charming he can be when he's not twirling: hey, you don't know what he's capable of. there's many attractive things about him. (that makes nami squint her eyes at usopp so he shuts up. immediately))

but when they find yamato and sanji its the both of them exchanging stories on who had the worst dad. "at least you could breathe," sanji says. "my sperm donor put a metal helmet on my face when i was eight because he didn't wanna see me anymore, announced i was dead to the country and threw me in jail."

yamato, equally outraged, "my dad threw me in jail when i was eight too! with other prisoners of war! i thought they were gonna kill me! one plate of food for the whole lot of us"

they both look at each other, and burst out laughing, at the sheer ridiculousness of it. they have to laugh. it hurts too much if they don't. sanji was able to escape long ago but his recent stint in whole cake island has brought memories he left in a life he abandoned back to the surface, and he feels a bit more brittle these days. more than he had had in over a decade.

smiling softly at a memory himself, yamato offers, "it was scary at first, and my hands were bound. but the prisoners. they were so kind, and helped me escape."

"i've gone hungry before, starvation and at the edge of death. but when i look back, i wonder if i would have preferred one meal and a group of samurai for company, who i did not know would be kind to me, or solitary confinement for months at end." sanji takes another drink. "but i wasnt starved in the dungeons. they still fed me." here he pauses, thinks, and adds as an afterthought. "i think you may have been safer with your samurai than i was there alone. my brothers came down regularly and beat me up, experimenting in new ways to discover just how fragile my human skin and my human bones were."

and now nami was there in whole cake island, she knows sanji's bio family are all bastards and they only let them live because sanji wanted to. but she hadn't known just how bad it was for him. and this is usopp's first time hearing this, and brave as he may be, as he is trying to be, he has always had a soft heart. nami hears a sniffle and sees tears streaming down usopp's face. nami blinks as tears she hadn't known were gathering fall down her own, and holds usopp's hand and leads him away. this isn't a conversation they are meant to hear.

sanji smiles when they leave and yamato grins too. they knew they were there, of course they did. sanji's observation haki may not be able as developed as luffy's, incapable of foresight yet, but he can tell when there are people around.

"they care about you so much, you know?" yamato says.

"i do," sanji smiles. "they could be yours too, if you come with us."

yamato takes a moment. "i know." and he sounds so sad but also determined. "i believe its best if i stay here right now. momo may be in a grown body, but he's still a child. and it would make me happy to be able to discover the country oden loved so much. all those years in onigashima, so near, and i've been unable to truly explore the home i call mine."

"whenever you want," sanji says, "luffy will welcome you i'm sure."

"so he's said."

and they're quite for a while. watching the campfire they built for a while.

"he reminds me of ace so much," yamato says softly.

"ace?"

"i think he was to me what luffy is to you. he would've set me free if he could've. he's so free, and i don't think i've ever laughed as much as the night i had with him."

sanji, familiar with ace, the way he lit up any room he was in, the charm he oozed and the easy smiles he had, says. "i know what you mean. the time he travelled with us was one of the best weeks ever. we were so surprised such a well mannered man could be luffy's brother."

and yamato laughs. because the ace he met immediately tried to kill him.

but sanji knows the sparkle in yamato's eyes, and so he starts explaining how they met ace. burning ships and travelling together in a desert. and when yamato laughs next, it's filled with love and joy and grief. not the kind of laughing you do to hide how much your heart hurts over the childhoods you had. and so sanji talks and talks about ace, informs him of their other brother sabo. the one he is yet to meet, but have heard stories of. he hopes yamato meets the other brother one day, the second in command of the fucking revolutionary army. the one who now holds ace's mera mera fruit powers.

yamato deserves nice things. he's learning he does too.

[xxbl00ds0akeds3raxx]

hey, fifi? seraphina? my love, my one and only… we really need to talk.

i was reading through your old posts and i found some REALLY weird stuff there.

like, okay, i know we’ve talked about ur other… flings before. i’ll tolerate them for you, you still know that. but.. what’s this about working at the brothel??? PLEASE tell me someone was joking writing that… in all of those asks… this has to be some weird joke, right???

at least with ur modeling and streaming, i can keep you safe. no one can hurt u there. but the brothel? sure, the whole town is crawling with rapists, but why would u intentionally go where they’re all gathered??? u even SAID that u KNOW it’s unsafe. why do u keep working there? it has to be a joke. if it’s not, u need to quit.

please. I can get us a flat or something since u can’t stay at my house. or get my parents to like u more. It’ll just take a bit more time. u don’t have to keep working to earn money. or at least not there. i could keep us safe, and happy… i just don’t know why u don’t trust me to do that!!

…i need to go look through the rest of ur posts now too. don’t block me, i have other accounts too, you already know that. u can’t keep hiding these things from me.

is there anything else u want to admit now too?? u know i'll find out eventually.

i’m TRYING to be good for u here. but it’s getting really fucking hard. i'm just trying to protect u.

…please reply.

- kylar

hhh hello kylar! my love, my pretty boy!!! umm!! tha thing abt my old posts is that they r old! ^.^ no need to look through the rest of them. not that i'm hiding anything from u— i just think we should talk b4 u... mmm, rile urself up more maybe ??

ofc i have no reason 2 lie to u sooo ahaha... ^_^ yes, i used to work at the brothel. i mean...,, i technically still do but mostly just to restock the facilities! i dont dance anymore. except for fridays,,, but all of that is very meticulously planned out and none of it is real! just a show!! briar makes sure it's safe 4 me bc umm the audience rlly likes me and i make her a lot of money so i can't just... quit really–

i don't have 2 fuck anyone there anymore, so its okay, right?? i could go over tha terms n conditions of shows w/ u if it'd make u more comfortable ??? ^^' i swear ik what i'm doing & i am being safe now, i didn't tell u bcos i knew u wld get worried and i never want to make u upset im sorry :((

baby, that sounds wonderful but... how would you even afford a flat— ? i mean, i could pitch in of course, but i still have to pay off bailey :/ and i have 2 be responsible 4 robin as well,,, u know im working hard 2 get on ur parents good sides but it will take time ಥ_ಥ

i do trust u!! i know u have my best interest in mind <3 it's just that um... sometimes wat u want isn't... realistic- like,,, even if i did quit, the problems wouldn't go away. i made my bed n now i gotta lie in it & until i have tha resources to cover it up,,, its smth we have 2 live w/ 〒▽〒 ghhh im sorry that i've dragged u into all of this :( i will make it up 2 u i promise !!!

u are being so good and i'm so proud of u, i love u so much <3 plz be patient w/ me, i'm also trying,,,

[demi-kitty]

Off antidepressants: a short mindramble about finding my creativity and then realizing that antidepressants "muffle" all I feel.

Personal experience with depression compressed over years finally being let out like a spring in a can. So many emotional experiences written about, so little time.

You can probable skip the paragraphs of recipe-level personal anecdotes. This is mostly metaphorical pseudo-poetic stream of consciousness about medicine and audhd *as my personal experience*.

I recently went off my meds

Just antidepressants

Not by choice really

I had started intermittently forgetting to take them

I don't know why

I started experiencing intrusive sleep

I was starting to unmask as I learned I might be AuDHD - ADHD and Autism

Things I had done years previously but had nearly forgotten now made sense. I cringed. Laughed at my child self, and moved on.

But my mind was hell, intermittent feeling muffled, intermittently my emotions threatening to break through.

I think it cost my my job

I smoked weed to hide the pain

I couldn't tell my mother

I stopped being a good employee

I stopped being a model human

My head was a mess

I'm praying for a dream to make me fall out of this world. Not stop, no, just make the world stop.

I need a break.

I'd like off this rides, the ups and downs are making me sick.

But I'm technically the only one at my job that can do what I do. I can't go off without worrying they'll be backed up. I'm barely needed, but needed at least once daily.

So I'm let go because the empty nothing of the day was dulling my mind and I couldn't think straight.

So I stop being insured

And I was out of zoloft substitute

And I was scared of the beast that had since been pacified

Three months of my medication being gone awaited me, three months of weekly "may I please have my medicine" and not hearing back anything but "we need insurance to schedule you".

Everything was chaos. Everything was bubbling over.

The smallest change in plans sent me into a meltdown.

I forgot that I was attending a family get together, and my mom being kind and reminding me a few hours early made me break down.

Full meltdown, fully sobbing and crying "please" in the shower, while scrubbing myself down and telling myself I'll feel better in a few hours.

Begging, pleading, my whole skin and bones wanted to just plop onto my computer chair and play the games. Easy dopamine was better than leaving my comfort zone.

I dried myself off with my musty towel, don't mind the cat box needing cleaning in the same room. I throw on clothes the cats have slept in, pretending I can hide the wrinkles. I sneak some weed without thinking. Maybe it'll make me think clearer.

I text my mom and ask if we can get something from the store for the potluck. Mom agrees. I get something for the kids, and something I known I'll eat. Suddenly Becky's store-bought cookies make more sense. I'm fighting tears and feel like an infant the entire walk from mum's car to the store and back. The kids play Bocce Ball and I can't stop reminiscing.

It's a lovely gathering, everyone behaves like adults. My grandparents expressed sympathy about the housing market last time we met, a few months ago. I forgot to tell them I'm unemployed now. Might as well tell them here. We talk about how to get a job like adults trying to be logical about the job market. I bite my tongue about autism as much as I can.

My mother who has made ends meet during a financially abusive father chimes in, she's looking for a part time job. Her apartment is unaffordable, and she lives with her partner now. They're happy, but things are looking rough even from there.

We discuss activism. I tenderly ask about the house my grandparents lived in before they moved back into their trailer.

I'm back home before I know it. I've had a real meal. I've had some real socializing.

And the days before, and the days after, it's hell. All blended together. These 3 months. That was just one event.

But for once something else pushes through. A huge sensation of spite.

Motivation.

Motivation pushing something old from inside me.

I want to make

I'm an artist again

I'm seeing colors.

The difference between the hues, the structure of the bones to the muscles to the skin to the hair and clothes.

My the skills are rusty. It's clunky.

I'm able to pour my soul into something again. I'm ready to learn and grow again.

I start to make. I draw.

I get a glove for my tablet.

I play with colors.

Lineart.

I finish a piece.

It sucks.

I hate it.

And I love the feeling.

I understand what it feels like to have rekindled something.

I found my passion, my soulmate.

My best friend from toddlers to highschool found me again and it was the best.

But my old best friend still hadn't shaken their best friend.

The painful emotions that are expressed in creativity. Uncovered at last, hand in wonderful hand.

In between meals and cleaning up my apartment, I feel it.

So much pushing to the surface. I don't control it. It's not even tangible.

Layers upon layers of painted emotions to mask the real pain underneath.

All different colors in hindsight, blues and reds.

So many memories, so many emotions I've forgotten to feel. In moments I'm jubilation itself, dancing across my apartment and whispering sorry when I stomp.

In a split second tears are pouring down my face.

Agony courses through me.

I'm sobbing and wretching out my heart because there's too much overflowing.

Spilling colors and rainbows of emotion.

Van Gogh's madness makes perfect sense, and it hurts.

When you need to stretch a muscle you haven't flexed in a while, it tends to feel like you remember how to move it, but it hurts or it's stiff. It pops and hurts. You push it beyond its current means so it remembers to support you.

I could almost feel my mind reconnecting the wires as I sat back and painted on my iPad and on a canvas.

Like Viktor Frankenstein, I was gripped with creative madness and could not stop painting.

Pouring blues and blacks for a night sky, hoping to sieze the creative urge in the moment.

An old friend you suppress the urge to kidnap because you're scared you'll never see them again.

I remember why I studied art, studied Japanese.

Wow.

The world has so much color I forgot about.

So many details stick out, like I've been given glasses and the world is clearer.

The world's on fire, but I'm appreciating some of the smaller things again.

Things I forgot I could appreciate.

Vibrant sunlight filtering through leaves.

And anger. So much. So much anger.

It's foreign, it's lovely. It's overwhelming.

Love. For my little fictional characters. Their world is still there.

Ready to be made

The brain muscle flexes and my chest tightens.

And I sob for the years past boiling over.

And then it ends again. And I'm still sobbing.

Daily, my emotions pour out onto the floor. I'm mentally in the second grade reliving a memory, then I remember I'm here in my 25 year old body. Then I'm a teenager and it's 2014.

I can't even leave my house. I'm in shambles. Facing a demon I knew would attack one day, but hoped would never experience.

Medi-cal goes through. The one thing I wanted, needed, pleaded, was for a refill of sertraline. Make the pain go away. At any cost.

I can't even go for it myself. I feel like a coward as I text my mother, I'm too scared to leave the house. It's been too emotional.

"How are you feeling?" She asks as she worriedly gets me my sertraline.

Facing down eternity and every possibility to a single answer, I'm overwhelmed, and cry again.

Never better, I'm creating like it's an old friend.

Never worse, it's been months without a job and everything hurts.

I'm catching up on games I missed out on as a kid, I'm painting, I'm facing a normal, refreshing sleep schedule.

I can't interact with a human without turning into an emotional puddle of mental nonsense.

I should probably not be facing these moments alone, but I don't want my loved ones to see me like this.

Layers upon layers of my love and hate and pain are overflowing

Observations in antidepressants

For a split second it's magical

I'm able to make the calls I need. The most important things I can't stop pushing off are done.

I can read through a single Geronimo Stilton

Then it settles back again.

The emotional turmoil was there. It was just more muffled.

Like a jaguar that got out. It pounced and attacked. It was caged outside its habitat after all. The zookeeper put it back in. The zoo has started cleaning up.

The jaguar is still there, and it hungers for it's freedom.

I tasted freedom. I want to feel it again.

The antidepressants begin to cloud my abilities.

The world fades and blurs.

I stop painting again.

My passion projects fall out of my motivation and reach.

And I'm finally able to put words to how I feel.

The antidepressants feel like sludge.

I'm wading through the sludge of my mind. It all slurs together.

A blanket of sludge plopped on a problem. The pain is still abundant, so it's producing in excess.

The emotions had to try so hard to be heard, so when the dam was released it flooded the town.

The creativity is dimmed and the motivation is beyond my reach.

I sleep for hours because I can't remember how well-rested feels.

No wonder I felt like a robot.

What I crave most is being drip-fed on the wrong frequency and consistency. Everything is muffled, to the point the backup upon compressed backup started pushing things through.

A pressurized canister went off and I had years of pain and creativity to make up for.

I think the antidepressants kill my creativity.

They kill my motivation and create a block to both my emotion and the rest of myself.

I found the me I was happiest with in those moments of unmedication.

I found the me who couldn't stand reality and refused to partake another second.

I found the creativity I missed.

I found the suicidalmind I had fought so hard to forget.

But now the spigots are back to being identical.

Slow dripping.

I don't have much motivation to exist, to create, to feel.

I only feel motivated as I'm falling asleep late late in the night.

Then I'm convinced tomorrow I'll conquer the world.

After a nap.

A sludge blanket has compressed my world again.

It was great when feeling apathy could get me through the day, but now my skills are withering like non-native plants in the desert and I'm staring across a longer distance trying to reach out to that happiness I used to be able to grasp.

I'm not "me" on my medicine, because it keeps me from feeling the energy and joy that I've tied myself and my soul to.

But I'm "me" on my medicine because it stops me from feeling the pain that whispers "just a bit. You're so small, you could stop existing for a bit."

My creativity wants to be loud, but it's logic knows I won't get far.

I'm resigned to that, but my medicine makes the logic too loud it stops the rest of my creativity from keeping on.

There must be a way these coexist.

"I'm" pushed down like garbage, but it needs to be unpacked and sorted, otherwise everything I accidentally tossed in there will rot with it.

My brain is tired of wading through sludge. It's been focusing on pushing through for survival, it forgot that it was inhibited and started giving up.

It has so much boiling out from under the surface.

I think I need to look into taking a different antidepressant.

[flurry-of-beaus-pop-pop]

Yeah, I've definitely noticed that the guests (at least the ones that aren't Robbie/Dorian) have been the ones consistently pushing for Imodna. From Dusk needling Imogen about Laudna and intentionally manipulating our fun-scary witch, to what we've seen from FRIDA and Deanna as well. That, and the fans have been thanking the guests for pushing for it to happen, which... doesn't feel right to me.

I feel like the one exception was Bor'dor as he was asking Laudna questions specifically about Imogen. At first it felt like every other instance... but after the reveal of his Ruby Vanguard affiliation, and that he was there when it all went down, I wonder if it was purely to gather intel, most likely to determine a weakness that he could have exploited had he lived.

A weakness that had been exploited once before by Otohan and could be again.

After all, he most likely realized who Imogen was because of her resemblance to Liliana.

Robbie was definitely fine, and I think that's largely due to the fact that while he is technically a guest, he started the campaign with the group and therefore, was there and gone before the true Imodna shipping began, at least to the degree that it is today.

Utkarsh, while he did definitely bring up Laudna/Imogen, I think his background made it more of a "I don't care what you two define yourselves as, I just know you're important to each other, how can I exploit this" and so it doesn't come across as him trying to push Laudna and Imogen together.

But the rest, definitely pushing an agenda, and it does very much come across as inorganic because like I said, in my opinion, outside of the guests, Imogen and Laudna as anything more than what they currently are isn't something that has been talked about at all among the main players at the table. This, and the fact that, as I've also mentioned, I also noticed some... looks during this last stream that were more "here we go" or "please no" from the actual players that make me think that Laura and Marisha don't want Imodna to happen, or don't want it to happen right now.

Personally, I think my perspective is driven home by the stark contrast of how Beauyasha was treated by the main cast versus how Imogen and Laudna are being treated.

Even in the VERY early days of Beauyasha, the main cast was jumping in and joking around and very much pushing that ship, most likely because they knew on some level, that if things went there with Beau and Yasha, Marisha and Ashley were more than okay with that. We don't see that at all with Imogen and Laudna, in my opinion. Yes, people will post clips of looks that others give when Imogen and Laudna are interacting, but looks are so ambiguous and can mean literally anything. Like from this last episode, when Laudna and Prism are saying goodbye, I saw people posting a brief moment of expression on Laura's face that they took to mean Imogen was jealous, but if you watch the rest of the scene, for the very large majority of that entire interaction, Imogen is laughing and finding their interaction amusing.

Long story short, I put more stock into the actual in-game conversations/actions of the characters rather than the microexpressions of the players because they can mean anything, and so far, in my opinion, there really hasn't been anything regarding anything more between these two from anyone besides guests.

[imaginationofomi]

Come Together

Seven

Nayeli wanted to go home, her craving for her tempur-pedic mattress so strong that she almost bailed on her friends. She should've left when her instincts first told her to. Tension made her neck stiff, and it was difficult to turn her head. She pushed through anyway, driving into the neighborhood of single story stucco houses and parking in front of the peach one with russet roof tiles two lots from the corner.

April's white garage door was open. Four men sat around a card table with beer, tumblers of liquor, and cigars inside the makeshift man cave playing dominoes, one of which was her fiancé, Ruben. They waved at Nayeli as she walked up the driveway, and Ruben got up to open the door for her.

"What's up, Nayeli? How you been?" he asked and grabbed one of the two bags she was holding.

"Good. You?"

"Same. Can't complain."

"You don't see me?"

Nayeli did a double take at the second man speaking to her, "Bryce?" she questioned because even though he looked like her ex-boyfriend from undergrad, there was something different about his face. He'd finally lost the round softness of the baby face he couldn't seem to get rid of while they were together and the first few years after, replaced with angular cheekbones and a sweet jawline.

His beige skin was a little sunburned on his cheeks, still clean shaven with a few blemishes near his chin. Starter locs hung just above his ears that now housed two tiny gold hoops. Pink lips stretched into a crooked smile.

"I'm that easy to forget you gotta question me?"

"No, you just don't look like you," she said and walked around the card table to give him a hug. They parted amicably, realizing that they weren't right for each other before resentment settled in and made their lives hell. Their relationship was the reason April and Ruben met, Bryce being Ruben's cousin, so they both lucked out where maturity was concerned. Gatherings would never be uncomfortable, "You finally look like you're grown."

"I'll take that as the compliment I know it was meant to be," he replied with a chuckle, hugging her waist with one arm, "What happened to the fro?"

"I'm letting it grow out. I might bring it back after the New Year." The decision was still very much up in the air, "Let me get inside before somebody calls me a traitor for hanging out with the men." Bidding them goodbye, she stepped through the open doorway and thanked Ruben for carrying the other bag to the kitchen. April was blending a pitcher of margaritas, and from the looks of the mixer bottle, it was the second one, "Sorry I'm late. I got the snacks!"

"Thank God. We need you in here," April sighed.

"How bad is it?"

"Worse, and Renée is not helping."

"Whose bright idea was it to invite her? Ray Charles could've seen that red flag." Nayeli loved Renée, and even she would've had the good sense to leave that woman off the guest list. Why pour gasoline on a fire? Everyone would be liable to get burned.

"She was with Morgan."

"Lord, I've had enough drama for one day," Nayeli mumbled to herself as she massaged her temples, or at least she thought she did.

"Something happened on your job?"

"Too much happened. No time to talk about that. We have to cheer Brittany up."

"There is no cheering her up. We need to keep her from throwing herself off the tallest building in the city."

"She wouldn't do that."

"I wouldn't be so sure." April stopped the blender and took the top off, pouring out a drink for Nayeli and taking the pitcher into the sitting room where the rest of their friends waited with empty or half empty cups while Nayeli grabbed the bowl of white corn tortilla chips and two kinds of salsa.

"Hey Britt."

"Hi." She was red-eyed, puffy and congested, her head resting on the arm of the couch with her knees curled up to her chest, "Did you get the tomatillo salsa?" she asked weakly.

"Mhmm." Nayeli sat down next to her on the floor and rubbed her arm.

"Thanks."

April was streaming Spike Lee's She's Got Have It, the majority black and white film holding most of the attention in the room. The women watched quietly and snacked. Sniffles could be heard, and Nayeli made sure to keep a comforting hand on Brittany, even going as far as to kiss her friend's cheek when she sobbed.

The noise was familiar to Nayeli. She wanted to join the crying, but she kept her tears at bay and the focus away from her own crisis.

Renée, indeed, made the situation worse with her snickering. Whatever beef she had with Brittany made it impossible for her to behave like she had any regard for another woman in pain. She found joy in Brittany's suffering, and beef was never that serious to Nayeli or anyone else in the room.

"I think it's time we plan our annual girls trip. Which seasons are we looking at?" Morgan said as the end credits started to roll.

"We should probably do it closer to summer."

"Anywhere we go then will be super crowded. I'm not trying to spend my vacation in a sea full of musty college kids," April said with her mouth frowned up.

"So March and April are out. That's prime spring break time."

"Shouldn't we decide where we're going first? That'll make it easier to plan the time of year," Nayeli pointed out. Certain places had better or worse weather regardless of the month traveled. They could find somewhere warm in the cooler months or vice versa.

"You might be right. We did Tulum this year. Are we thinking out of state, out of the country, or local?"

"Let's go out of the country again."

"Somewhere in Europe this time!"

"Party in Ibiza!" Morgan shouted and raised her cup.

"What about Amsterdam?" April threw in.

"Do they like our people over there?" Renée asked.

"HOW CAN YOU GUYS SIT HERE PLANNING A DAMN VACATION WHEN I FEEL LIKE MY CHEST IS ABOUT TO CAVE IN!?" Brittany screamed, halting the conversation as everyone looked at her with wide eyes. It was the most she'd spoken since Nayeli got there, and a fresh wave of tears slid down her damp cheeks.

"We were trying to keep your mind off that bum," April answered and bit her tongue before she said anything else. Only she knew why Brittany was at the end of her rope, and if she hadn't just gotten off probation for assaulting someone at her previous job, she would've driven across town to handle the man herself.

"I still don't know what he did. Why are we here?" Morgan asked. All eyes fell on Brittany, and she pushed her face into her hands just before she started sobbing again. She tried to speak but struggled to get the words out. April revealed the secret for her.

"Dana's pregnant."

"By Jeffrey?"

Slowly, Brittany nodded and hiccuped. Nayeli was stunned, but she was the only one. Because she saw the good in everyone even when there was no good to see.

"S-she brought the test to the house. He tried to lie and say the baby wasn't his, but she has videos of them fucking as recently as last week." Renée didn't even pretend to feel bad, letting out a lengthy howl while she held her ribs and bent at the waist, "What the fuck is so funny, Renée?"

"YOU! All that harping you do about respecting relationships and women sharing dick, and you been sharing yours the whole time. With a bitch who had him first, at that. I told you get off that soapbox you love to stand on."

"It's not the same thing."

"Oh, it's not? Let's break it down and see what's real, then. He was in a relationship when you started fucking him, and you knew it. Don't try that 'he lied to me' shit either. Dana was all over social media with him and their kids. You ignored the truth because you wanted him anyway. You gave that lady hell for years over a nigga that was obviously playing you. Then you had the nerve to think you won because he married you, but she got four of his and one on the way while you're still childless and desperate after three years of marriage. The man don't even sleep in your house half the time. You love looking down your nose at the rest of the population like it could never be you, but guess what. IT IS! You're no better than the women you try to dog. I don't have sympathy for you. This is karma rightfully beating your ass," Renée shrugged and crunched on a chunk of ice.

"Née, come on." Morgan shook her head.

"What? I'm supposed to keep myself in check because her man never left his baby momma? It's not my fault she don't wanna accept that she's a sister wife."

"Renée, enough! I realize that you guys are not the best of friends right now, but why do you have to kick her while she's down? She clearly knows she messed up. If this were you right now, nobody would be dumping on you. We're here for support, not to make her feel worse. Keep your thoughts to yourself or go home," Nayeli said angrily.

"Why are you sticking up for her? She brought the shit on herself."

"I would stick up for all of you the same way. When someone is hurt, you don't pile on them. Aren't you supposed to be a mental health advocate? Or is that empathy reserved for strangers only?"

"She don't deserve empathy. She never has it for anyone else," Renée argued.

"All the more reason we should extend it to her. Stop being so damn vengeful."

Nayeli couldn't comprehend the level of hatred Renée was feeling. It was like Brittany personally wronged her, but she knew of no such incident. When Renée realized that no one would come to her defense, she pushed herself out of the chair she was sitting in and headed for the front of the house.

"Y'all can have it." The door slammed behind her, and it seemed like everyone exhaled at the same time.

"Chile, you know you fucked up when Nayeli raises her voice." April said.

"Thank you, Ellie," Brittany whispered, defeated by Renée's harsh words and tone. Feeling horrible about herself to begin with, she didn't need the extra trashing. Her husband already destroyed what was left of her self-esteem.

"You're welcome," Nayeli responded and leaned her head on Brittany's, "She's right, you know. Her delivery was piss poor, but she is right. Take this situation as a lesson, and humble yourself. God don't like ugly."

☼☼☼

Hours and several plates of tacos later, the sun had set and Nayeli was ready to turn in for the evening. Belly full, social gas tank on E, peace and quiet were the only two things on her mind until she got closer to her home. It was just after 8 p.m., and she considered the very real possibility that Jalen could still be there.

She wasn't in a good state of mind to deal with him directly. Hearing him beg for another chance to waste her time would surely set her off after the day she had.

No matter what Ezra said or did, Savannah's attitude worsened throughout the afternoon. While she never went near Nayeli, she did try her hardest to get under Nayeli's skin. In fact, she tried so hard that Carmen snapped on her in front of everyone. Thankfully, they'd sang happy birthday by then because that was the final straw for Nayeli.

A child's birthday party should never become a spectacle, but only she seemed to care about that fact. She just decided to remove herself and pray that the day carried on in peace. Ezra's disappointment made her feel weird, like she owed him an apology even though she'd been trying to leave for most of the day.

"I think I've worn out my welcome," she'd told him as she got ready to go. He tried to convince her to stay longer, but she declined and glanced at a fuming and embarrassed Savannah. It wasn't worth the problems it would cause. However, she did receive a treat on her way out. With her mother just a few feet away, Tatiana expressed how happy she was that Nayeli was there and thanked her for her cake and the rest of the desserts. Like her father, Tatiana asked her stay. Nayeli was gentle with her no, reminding the princess that they would see each other again soon.

Ezra's family graced her with sweet farewells, hugs, and promises of visits to the bakery when they were back in town as most of them still lived in LA, other parts of Southern California or out of state. She could practically see Savannah's face going cherry red and steam flying out of her ears. If Nayeli were evil, she would've laughed at her, but she gave her the same tight lipped smile she plastered on when she let her know to find someone else to try instead.

Between that and doing the emotional labor for most of her friend circle, Jalen was the very last person she wanted to see. With him leaving for LA the next morning, she decided to grant him a little more time and drove to Maxine's house.

Thankful for the open door policy, she used her key and walked inside, wedging herself between her sister and Stella on the teak, leather couch.

"I get you two days in a row? Time to play the lotto. Give me some numbers," Max said and wrapped her arms around Nayeli's shoulders.

"You're so extra. Hey Stella." She leaned over to hug her sister-in-law and rub her rounding belly.

"Hey Nye. How are you?"

"I'm alright, you?"

"Gassy. Your niece has decided she hates everything that tastes good."

Nayeli cooed at Stella's baby bump, trying to imagine what she would look like when her own belly was swollen with a son or daughter. Hopefully she'd be blessed with both.

"Three more months until she gets her eviction notice," she said excitedly.

"I'm hoping I get lucky and she comes a little early. If not, somebody will have to induce me. Max was miserable walking around with Diesel past her due date."

"Oh, I remember that. She looked like she was going to cry up until her water broke."

"Which is why you're carrying this time around," Max said to Stella.

"Speaking of, where is my nephew?"

"With Craig until Monday."

"Ooooh, what you guys got planned?" Nayeli asked.

"We're driving to Malibu for the day tomorrow. See the sights, hit up Nobu."

"That'll be a cute little date day."

"Yes, we need it. I'm sure you do, too. Maybe you and Jalen can come with us?" Stella suggested, and a sour taste filled Nayeli's mouth. Maxine hadn't shared their conversation with her wife. Nayeli didn't know whether to be upset or grateful.

"I kicked him out," she revealed, feeling uncomfortable with two pairs of eyes looking directly at either side of her face. Stella placed her hand on her stomach and sat up to get a better look at Nayeli's eyes.

"Did I hear you correctly? You said you kicked him out?"

"Yep. That's a done deal."

"I knew you could do it, but I wasn't sure you would. I'm proud of you, Baby Love," Max said and gave her sister another hug because she knew it was needed.

"Thank you." Nayeli closed her eyes and sighed. For a while, she didn't think she would go through with it either. It was part of the reason she cried so much. She didn't want to let go, but she knew that she had to. The days of her accepting apple cores, mushed peas, and stewed cabbage were over.

"What happened?" Stella asked, shocked at the new development.

"Our priorities didn't align the way I thought." Easiest way to put it without saying too much. She didn't want to repeat the story over and over again. Her wounds had enough salt in them.

"I'm sorry."

"I'll get over it. I'm not the first woman to be bamboozled, and I won't be the last."

"You seem a lot more calm and sure about it than you did yesterday," Max noticed.

"As soon as it clicked that he was only worried about his wants and needs, it was an easy decision to make. Even pleading his case, there was no compromise. It was just a no on his end. No discussion or explanation. Just no. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I'd be sacrificing my dignity if I let the relationship continue. I can't live the rest of my life only being that man's girlfriend or baby momma. I'm worth more than that."

"Damn right, you are." Maxine wanted to take her words back. Proud was an understatement of how she felt. She never thought of Nayeli as weak, but she knew she loved hard. She thought it would take more for her little sister to walk away from a relationship that spanned half a dozen years. Thank God she was wrong, "Did he go quietly?"

"No. I'm not even sure he's gone. I told him to pack the rest of his things and be out by 6 today. He was putting up a fight, but I had a party to cater. I couldn't stick around to watch him, and I really didn't feel like listening to him beg when I know nothing is going to change. He has an interview in LA on Monday, so he should be out of the house tomorrow at the latest. If his stuff isn't gone, it's getting donated to a shelter. I'm changing the locks in the morning."

"Good for you. How was the party?"

"Interesting, to say the least." Nayeli sighed again. No one could have expected the turn of events she faced. A lot of bad came with the good, though the latter did tip the scale. She was happy to be free.

"Say the most," Max urged and muted the TV.

"Grace thinks I've been adopted into a new family."

"Don't fall for it! They want free dessert!" Stella said, eliciting laughter from all three of them.

"A few people thought Ezra and I were dating. I had to shut that down quickly."

"Who's Ezra?"

"Father of the birthday girl, and let me tell you, the man spared no expense. They had a freaking rollercoaster in the parking lot."

"Why not just rent out an amusement park if you're going to go that far?"

"I didn't ask. Not my money, not my business."

"That just seems excessive for a birthday party to me. You got people to come out and build a rollercoaster that's only going to be ridden once or twice? Then they gotta take it down after a few hours?" How much money did the man have to blow, and who the hell was he? Maxine stared at Nayeli in confusion.

"I'm with you, but Tatiana is his whole world. I'm sure she got exactly what she asked for. She picked out the entire spread I made."

"I want to know why his family thought you guys were dating."

"Yes, babe," Max said, "It's time to start asking the real questions because that's a first."

"We're comfortable around each other. I guess a little too comfortable." The way she was being looked at made Nayeli nervous. She didn't want to give off the wrong impression, but playing the day back in her head, she could see how one could come to certain conclusions.

"I'm not following. Explain. You never mentioned an Ezra to me or Leti."

"Because I don't know him well. I've only been around him a handful of times." Though she knew him a bit better, now, thanks to Carmen and Brandy.

"You've been around long enough for his people to think you were together."

"I guess it's kind of easy to jump to that conclusion when a man follows you around a party."

"He followed you?"

"According to his sister. Well, she said she was watching me, and Tati's mom was calling me everything but my name to anyone that would listen so they just put ten on two."

"Okay, I need the full run-down from start to finish because there's scalding tea you are not pouring, and I don't appreciate it. You got in good with the sister and got issues with the baby momma all in one day?"

Nayeli decided not to make things worse for herself by mentioning that she met majority of Ezra's immediate family and spent a significant amount of time with them, that she spent some time alone with him and on their own with Tatiana.

"It's not tea. I just don't have all the details. They don't get along, so he didn't communicate to her that we were coming. She thought we were trying to crash the party and got snippy, and he checked her. She hated my guts after that. She tried to make me leave and everything."

"Please tell me you cussed that hoe out."

"I politely let her know not to mess with me. A curse word was used."

"Man, hell no. You're better than me. Ain't a check in the world worth some bitter baby momma drama."

"Listen, I didn't even need the instructions. I was trying to leave before she came up to me because I knew she had a problem, and I didn't want smoke. Ezra and Tati asked me to stay."

Maxine's eye twitched, and she looked at Stella who was already looking at her. Yeah, Nayeli was definitely comfortable.

"Why?" Stella asked.

"He said he has a good feeling about me."

"It sounds like he wants a taste of the honey pot to me," Max teased.

"I have nothing to taste. Being only a few hours removed from a relationship can make anyone dry out for a while." And seeing the aftermath of not one but two relationships that had blown up, she wanted to steer clear for the time being. She had a lot to prepare for in the upcoming months.

"It's the opposite. Most people get under someone to get over someone else."

"When have you ever known me to do that?" Nayeli asked.

"Never because you wanna be Mother Teresa so bad." Maxine rolled her eyes and unmuted the TV as the commercial ended and Wicked Tuna returned.

"I just don't believe in creating soul ties with random people."

"But it's fun."

"Toxic."

"At least I'm real about it!" Maxine was always honest. Sometimes too honest, but Nayeli preferred it that way. She knew he could always get the real from her big sister, "How are you holding up?" she asked because despite Nayeli seeming calm, she knew the family baby was likely reeling on the inside. She rubbed the top of her back.

"I'm hurt, but I know I did the right thing. You were right in telling me that I had a choice to make. I chose myself."

"As you should. Every single time." Maxine wished she had her sister's strength. There were many times she should've walked away, but she was hard headed. Stubborn. Determined to see things through even if they were bound to fail. Nayeli had the balls to choose herself. It was admirable, so when Maxine heard sniffling and saw a few tears drop, she wrapped her arms around her sister and held her tight, "You're gonna be okay," she promised. She would see to that.

☼☼☼

Empty. Her home felt empty. Artwork was gone. Pictures were gone. The TV in her bedroom was gone. His clothes were gone. His shoes were gone. The bathroom was void of his razors and body wash.

One toothbrush remained, hers.

All traces of Jalen were gone. Just like she wanted. Nothing left behind but a hole in her chest. Truly alone for the first time in twenty-four hours, Nayeli walked into her bedroom and changed out of the clothes she borrowed from Stella into a loose t-shirt and a tattered pair of sweats. Stepping into her solace, she walked to her planter boxes and gently brushed her fingers over the leaves.

The sun warmed her skin as she spent time in her garden, breathing through the pain in her stomach. She watered her trees and veggies, allowed some tears to escape. Breathed some more until she needed to sit because she felt light headed. Tears fell faster as she sank to the grass and braced herself against the side of a planter box.

Her hand brushed across a scratch in the wood, and she looked down to make sure she didn't get a splinter. The scratches were prominent, along with the memory. They came from her nails, grooves carved from feelings of ecstasy flooding her body while Jalen plunged in and out of her on the grass.

For the third time that morning, she burst into tears.

[btsxmalereaders]

♡ Meant To Be

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x male reader

Fluff ♡ | Requested

Word Count: 2,8k

Masterlist

Don't forget to vote on whosfan and stream

"Aren't you even a little curious about it?"

You've heard this question thousands of times already; yet, the answer for it has never changed.

"No, not really." You shrug while your friend stares at you in disbelief. "Why do you ask knowing my answer?"

"I just had the hope that you changed your mind," Jeonghan says. "You know, out of everyone in our group of friends, you're the only one who hasn't found their soulmate."

You take one last sip of your tea and sigh, "And you're telling me this to make me feel bad?"

"No! It's just... I thought that would make you feel at least curious of the person whose name is written on your wrist ever since forever."

Your eyes immediately go to your wrist, and your other hand covers the name with your sleeve.

"And I still don't get your habit of covering it, as if you don't want us to know." He laughs. "Are you trying to ignore it and expect to find them like people picture it on dramas?"

Inevitably, you roll your eyes, "I don't know what to tell you. I just think that if we're really meant to meet, then it's gonna happen... someday. I'm in no rush."

Jeonghan nods in understanding, "I guess you're right."

"I am always right." You chuckle. "Now keep telling me about Injae, how is it going with her?"

That's exactly the way you would always dissociated yourself from the topic every time you were asked about it. It wasn't something you really cared about, unlike to your friends. You were happy with the way things are right now.

"... we are taking things slow, and it's all going great. I am really happy about it." He puts on a goofy smile and his ears and cheeks quickly covers in a tinted pink.

"Aw, my little Jeonghan is in love, who would've thought?"

"Shut up, who said anything about love?" He tries to act cool, but he's still smiling and feeling nervous.

"Please," You scoff. "That smile tells me you're head over heels about her. And the way your eyes shine whenever you talk about her? Seems like love to me."

"Ha, ha, ha, you really like to make fun of me, don't you?" He sarcastically blurts. "I am dying to see how you're gonna be once you meet your soulmate. "

"Mmh, we'll see about that..."

Just when you're about to continue reading your textbook, your phone buzzes over the table. You already got distracted by talking to Jeonghan when you both were supposed to be studying for the upcoming exams, but you decide to read the messages you received.

"What's better, keep studying or going out to grab lunch with Sihwan?" You throw the question in the air, to which your friend hums.

"Your friend that works at JYP entertainment?" You nod. "I mean, anything is better than studying for socials, so if I were you, I would go."

"You say that because you want to bump into an idol, don't you?"

"If you meet Twice, could you ask them to  autograph something for me?" He says with a pout, making you laugh.

"I am not that lucky." You say and quickly start gathering your belongings to put them on your backpack. "You're meeting Injae later, right? I'll catch you up at the dorm?"

"Sure, I'll see you later."

With that being said, you start walking to the building. Even when your friend has invited you a couple of times already, you couldn't help but feel nervous. That weird feeling in your stomach and the tingling in your skin, like chills. Trying to ignore it, you pass by a nearby restaurant and order Sihwan's favorite food, carrying the bags carefully until you reach the entrance of the building.

After a few messages letting him know you're already there and a few more minutes of waiting, your friend greets you with a smile and a pat on your back, helping you with the bags in your hands and guiding you to the elevator. Unusual, but you don't say anything about it.

"I have more work than usual today, I hope you don't mind eating in my studio."

"You won't get in trouble?" You ask, feeling concerned,  but he only denies with his head as he presses a button.

"Don't worry, it's fine."

You silently follow him, trying to not look at anyone in the eyes when you walk through the hall, all the way to the studio. Anyway, no one seems to be aware that you are a regular college student. Lots of people work in there and it's hard to keep track of everyone in there.

"Come in, seriously, it's okay." He chuckles by seeing how you look around and slowly walk inside. "I've been working on the melody and guide for a new group these past hours."

The door is closed and Sihwan sits on the office chair and signals the sofa behind it for you to do the same.

"You brought food from that new restaurant down the street? Sweet." He says and opens the bag, placing the food containers on the wooden table between you two. "I've been starving."

"Working for a new group, you said?" You ask with interest, grabbing what you ordered for yourself and start eating as well.

Sihwan nods, "A girl group, they've been working hard and will debut soon, I hope you can listen to them."

"I am kinda old school, but for you I can do it, I guess..."

You two continue having a conversation about music and how you've been doing at college while sharing food. The last time you met with him was a couple of months ago, so the conversation keeps going for a while until he decides it's time to go back to work.

"Well, in that case I'll leave you. I've got to go back to study too." You say as you stand up and clean the desk.

"Mmh, okay. Thanks for this, how about we go have dinner next week? It's gonna be on me."

"Sounds great to me. Text me the details later?"

"Sure thing." He promises and smiles. "You know how to get back, right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. See you!"

As soon as you step out of the studio, you look around to make sure no one is walking in the hall, so you almost run to the elevator, not expecting that someone would bump into you as they exit one of the offices.

You fall to the ground and start apologizing immediately, feeling embarrassed.

"I am so sorry, I didn't see you." You hear them saying.

"No, I am sorry, I shouldn't have ran here." You say, and as you try to stand up, they're extending their hand to you to help you up.

You take the help and do a reverence as a thank you and clean the invisible dust on your clothing, and as you're about to walk to the elevator, their voice stops you.

"Y/N L/N?"

You stop on your tracks and finally have the courage to stare at them in the eye and realize that it's a guy, and a very handsome one, you must add. Your legs tremble at the sight, clearly stunned by seeing someone so good-looking. Your immediate thought is that he's an idol or trainee.

"Uh, do we know each ot-?"

Your question is interrupted as he shows you his wrist, and that's when you see it clearly. Your name tattoed on his skin.

"I am Hwang Hyunjin... your soulmate."

You're at the loss of words. The only thing you can do is get lost in his eyes staring back at you, looking for whatever to say, but the situation feels unreal. It's like your body is frozen.

"Hey, Hyunjin, is everything okay out there?" A third voice coming from the office brings you back down to earth.

"I am sorry, I gotta go." You quickly say the second he is distracted, running as fast as your legs allow it and get in the elevator, pressing the bottons and seeing him run in the hall one last time before the doors finally close.

You exit the building and walk to the bus stop, looking back from time to time only to realise that Hyunjin has not followed you. With your heart beating like crazy and your hands shaking you get to text Jeonghan to let him know you were on your way back to the apartment and that you had big news. He was definitely not going to believe it.

"Ow! What was that for?" You groan as Jeonghan grabbed a pillow and threw it to you.

"You just ran away?!"

"I panicked, okay? You can't put the blame on me for that!"

"With all due respect, you're an idiot." He sighs. "You met your soulmate and just ran, oh god... What are you going to do?"

"Uhh... nothing?"

Jeonghan grabs the pillow again just to throw it at you, but your hands stop him.

"Okay, okay, I'll do something about it. I'll go see him again!"

"That's a big lie, you say that as if I don't know you." He rolls his eyes.

"Yes, I am a coward. I don't know what should I do, help me." You say with a pout.

"Your friend? He may know him, don't you think?" He states as if it's so obvious.

"Ooh, you're right! I am going to have dinner with him next week, I can ask him..."

"See? It's like the universe is conspiring for you to meet again... Properly meet, I mean."

You stop listening to him as he starts complaining and making fun of the way you reacted earlier.  Your mind is now finding a good way to reach out to him.

"...And I could finally finish that song." Sihwan says with a grin and takes a sip of his beverage. "I was practically isolated and had no proper human contact for a while, so thanks to our talk and delicious food I could finish in no time after that."

You giggle, "Really? Then I am happy I could be helpful, don't forget to add me on the credits."

He laughs at the joke and continues talking, "You didn't get caught on your way out, right?"

"Well... about that."

"Wait, are you serious? Did you get in trouble?" He asks, concerned.

"No, no! It's just that... Do- do you know Hwang Hyunjin?"

It's now or never.

Sihwan seems to think about it for a second, feeling confused. "Yeah, I mean, our team is not working with them, but I've talked to him and his group a couple of times. Why? You ran into him?"

"Yeah, but also..." You lift the sleeve of your shirt, letting him see the name written on your skin.

"No way! Really?" He says with a big smile. "Hell, congratulations! How- wait, why don't you look happy about it?"

"Because I panicked and ran away before I could say something to him." You say and hide your face behind your hands out of frustration. "I need your help, hyung."

"Okay," He chuckles. "Of course, what can I do to help?"

You sigh and take out a folded paper from the pocket of your ripped jeans, looking at it for a second before handling it to your friend. "Could you give this to him?"

Sihwan takes it and nods. "Of course, I'll give it to him as soon as I can."

Now all you have to do is wait.

You plop down in the sofa and stare at the screen of your phone for the millionth time today, feeling hopeless at this point. It has been one week since you asked Sihwan to give that letter to Hyunjin, and ever since, you couldn't help but wait for a message from him, or even a call, despite you don't knowing what would you even say.

"Hmm, you haven't heard anything from him?" Jeonghan asks and sits next to you. You deny with your head and sigh. "Maybe he's busy. I heard his group is going to do a comeback soon."

"A what, now?" You ask, and your friends looks as you in disbelief.

"Don't tell me you haven't looked up for him on internet. I mean, he was in JYPE for a reason."

"Uhh..."

"Oh my god, I swear you are..." He doesn't finish his premise. Instead, he takes the phone from your hands and looks up for his name on the web. "Stray Kids, you didn't look up for him? I can't believe this, are you even on social media?"

"Shut up, let me see this."

You quickly read their information, going directly to the names and pictures of the members, quickly finding Hyunjin and realizing your friend is right. How come you didn't think of it?

"Oh yeah, here says they're releasing an album in a few days..."

"Told you." He murmurs. "Are you still going to wait for him to text you?"

"Do I have another option? I don't think I can go around the building just looking for him, even if I am with Sihwan."

"Hmm, you're right. I hope you can talk soon, though. Imagine this: you and Hyunjin together, we become friends and he gives me a tour in JYPE to meet Twice."

You roll your eyes and stand up, "You're being delusional. I'll go to sleep now, goodnight!"

"That's rude!" He groans and sees you walk away. "I hope you panick and run away again next time you see him!"

The next morning when you wake up, the first thing you do is check your phone, and your heart almost stops when you see a new message from an unknown number.

You go clean your face and take a deep breath to gather the courage you needed to finally read the long-awaited message.

With trembling hands you unlock your phone and click on the notification.

It was no surprise to see how easy was to talk with him. You two started talking on regular basis, when he was free from his schedule and when you weren't studying, which happened really late at nights.

Soon, those thousands of messages became frequent phone calls and videocalls that lasted hours, and to say that you both trusted each other with your lives was an understatement. You were still getting used to the idea that your soulmate was an idol; and it was weird to see him constantly on the internet, as of course you started following every other fan account you found on social media. Hyunjin, on the other hand, was trying to be very supportive of your studies and kept sending you messages of encouragement as well as listening to your ramblings about your career and complaints about your professors.

"So you've caught feelings for him, right? It was about time, Y/N" Jeonghan says with a shrug. "I know some soulmates only work as friends and all that, but it was pretty obvious to me that you'd end up in a romantic relationship."

"Really?"

He nods and smiles. "Of course! Are you going to ask him out?"

"I was planning to, but what if he doesn't feel the same? What if he just sees me as the friend type?"

Jeonghan hums. "Well, I think it's gonna be okay. You're soulmates for a reason, don't you think?"

You hesitate to grab your phone and open the message bar, typing a question and hoping things will go well after pressing the send button.

"Hyun, is it okay if I ask you out?

Like, on a date?"

A few minutes later you receive an answer,  needless to say, you didn't expect him to reply now, so you feel as if your heart is about to make a hole on your chest right now.

Hyun ♡

God, I was really hoping I wasn't the only one feeling this way.

Of course it's okay

I would love to go out on a date with you, Y/N ♡

You now feel at ease, the butterflies flying in your stomach and your body feeling so light as if you were floating. Is that how being in love feels like?

"He said he'd love to go on a date with me." You announce with a smile.

"See? There you go, my plan of meeting Twice soon is going awesome." He says and you give him a deathly glare. "I am kidding! But I have to say, who's smiling and blushing like a dumb right now?"

"Jeonghan!" You groan and grab a pillow to throw it at him, but he's quicker to stand up and walk away, still laughing.

Hyun ♡

Now you're not being shy, eh?

You won't run away from me when we meet?

You're the worst, you text back.

Hyun ♡

I may be

But I am your soulmate, so pretty much you can't get rid of me

He was right, but you were not intending to do that.

Because, now more than ever, you were sure things were meant to be this way. Right next to him forever.

[muresetivoire]

Moony × Reader

Word count: 3577 words

Genre/Warnings: Fluff/Angst

If you want you can check out some more on wattpad (:

As I ran along the corridor, late for class, I bumped into someone with a loud ouch. "I'm so sorry" "Hey its no problem, let me help you," a soft voice responded. As I reached for my potions home work, a hand brushed mine. Remus John Lupin, my rival. The only person who's intelligence rivaled mine. The person who makes my life living hell. The sweetest gum-drop to everyone, loved by all. However, I'm not "all."

"Y/N?" he asked, looking at you with those big brown eyes. "I'm fine Lupin," I respond as I grab my book from his hand. "At least let me-" "I said I'm fine." He slowly gets up, and offers me a hand. I huff and shove it as I stand. "You know I was only trying to help y-" "I'll see you in class Lupin," and with that I storm off, leaving a very confused boy.

Now you're probably wondering, what makes one hate Remus Lupin, the sweetest guy, the glory of the marauders. Well let me tell you, not much.

My mother and his were the very best of friends, there by, we became best friends. Every holiday, every weekend, every opportunity we got, we were at the Lupins. Remus and I grew close. He shared his love for reading with me, a love I always had but never felt so confidence to share with him. From fantasy to romance, I read it all, but I never shared it with him. The vulnerability I felt knowing he'd see what I enjoyed, what I loved, what I wanted, it was too much. His mum told my mum about his "illness." He thought himself a freak, a monster. He would cry about it, the pain he felt, the embarrassment of scars. To me, he was all but an angel sent from heaven, beautiful and pure.

Before we began Hogwarts, we made a promise to never leave each other's sides, to remain best of friends, no matter the houses or the circumstances. As it turned out, we weren't sorted in the same house. Everyone was shocked knowing that studious Remus was sorted in Gryffindor while me, odd-ball and awkward, was sorted in Ravenclaw. At first we were both shocked, but we kept the promise.

Until one faithful day.

Now while I never shared my love for reading with him, I did share everything else. My love for baking, knitting and potions, you name it, he knew. We shared our darkest secrets with each other. He shared his insecurities about his scars, and me my insecurity about being "fat." We made plans to open a book/tea shop, he would supply the books and I the tea, obviously. He knew everything about me, except for my reading and I knew everything about him. And for that, I loved him, but he never loved me.

In the beginning of the first year in Hogwarts, in the middle of a potions class, we were presented with amortentia. Why we were presented with such a complex potion at such a young age, I couldn't tell you. Perhaps Professor Slughorn was feeling cheeky. I smelt him in it. I smelt the soft worn out pages of the books that he read, I smelt the roses he always grew, his chocolate he always carried and something entirely him. After class, we met at the lake, our place where we'd meet and study. As I approached him, he seemed really tired, as usual, and something I thought I never imagined he would posses, anger, raw and bitter anger.

"Hey Rem, you alright?" He turned to me with puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. "Rem oh Gods, whats wrong?" I rushed towards him and slowly wiped his tears away. "Talk to me, please," I asked softly while I wiped all evidence of tears. He looked up at me, those beautiful kind eyes, eyes that held so much emotion but always the best ones. "I don't want to talk about it," he said batting my hands away. I awkwardly fixed my glasses, "Okay well whenever you're ready, you want to start studying for our potions exam?" I began to unpack my bag when he got up, fuming. "You know what, yeah I do want to talk about it" I sat up, completely confused. "Remus?" "Y/N how is it, the one person, the one person who hates reading, detests it, passes every exam without fail? And not just passes, but tops every class. How?"

I sat there gaping, "Well I-" "Don't lie to me, don't you dare." I stood up, a feeling of anger consuming me. "What do you mean Remus? I study just like you, just like everyone." He grunted and groaned, "Stop lying to me," he screamed, "I read everyday, I study all the time, and yet you, you get all the awards, all the academic glory" I feel myself begin to heat up and tears begin to form, tears I begged not to fall. "What do you want me to say Remus? That I cheat? That- That I use spells to make me remember? Is that what you want to hear?" He stares at me, his gaze hardening. "I'll give you one chance, and one chance only, tell me the truth." I step back, gaping, confused. "I already told you Remus, I do the same as you, I study." He looks to me and says in a tone I never believed he could conjure, "Fine, if that's what you want to tell me, don't talk to me at all." "Remus you can't be serious." The tears I tried my best to hold, began to spill furiously as his words made me crumble. "Y/N, I don't ever want to talk to you, I don't want to see you, I don't want to study with you and I sure as hell-" "I smelt you in the amortentia today," I blurt surprising myself. "You what?" "I smelt you, the chocolate, the roses, your books," I say sniffling. He laughs, a cruel sarcastic laugh, "Oh really? Me? You must be joking?" I stare at him, confused and hurt. "You think I'd ever smell you, or like you. Y/N you're bloody lying to me, I could never like, or for that matter, love someone as hideous as you." My eyes begin to gush now. How dare he? The one person I trusted, my best friend. "Remus you don't-" "Oh but I do," he said while he picked up his bag and looked at me. "What about our plans?" He looks to the school, "I could never work with someone like you Y/N, I've never disliked someone as much I dislike you now." He begins to walk to the school, "Remus wait I-" "Leave me alone forever Y/N, and don't come here anymore, I have other plans here, plans that don't include you." With that, he walked away, leaving me, my tears streaming, my glasses foggy and my heart broken.

So you see, I never really hated him, but I obliged to his wishes. We never met again, he hung out with his friends, James and Sirius and Peter. As for me, I hung out with the first person I spoke to in Hogwarts, Andromeda Black. Now, Andromeda and I are two very different people, but we shared a love for potions . She knew of my love for reading, she saw me reading on my first night at Hogwarts. We became quick friends, and she soon became my best friend. She's like a sister to me, but I never did tell her about Remus.

After I left Remus on the corridor, I ran and met Andromeda in potions. "Hi dearie, saved me a seat?" She laughs and moves her bag. "Students, please note, today we will be brewing potions in pairs," the class sighs, "pairs that have already been chosen." I sigh loudly. "Cmon its not that bad, you could be paired with that cute Hufflepuff guy." We laugh softly. Remus and another guy run in and swiftly sit down. Professor Slughorn begins to call the list of pairs. "Andromeda Black and Xenophilus Lovegood," with that Andromeda groans and gets up. "Y/N Y/L/N and Remus Lupin," and my mouth fell open.

Remus came to my seat and we began to collect and prepare the potion. No one knew the potions name, only its ingredients. However, these ingredients seemed familiar but it never clicked. I felt his eyes stare through me. From the first year to the fifth year, my body didn't really change, I still remained a "fat girl" but hey I grew some boobs. Does he still think I'm hideous, I thought. I shake my head and we work in silence. "So how are you Y/N" he asks softly. Those beautiful innocent eyes stare right through me. Nope, not happening. "I'm fine Lupin" "Quite the tumble you took today, I-" "Let's just finish this okay?" He shakes his head and we work in silence. He seemed, nervous? Sad? Distressed was the word. After finishing the potion, we all gathered at the front. Dread began dawn on me as I fit the puzzle pieces together. "Now, who can tell me the name of this potion hmm?" "Amortentia , sir," I say in a soft voice.

"And Y/N can you tell me what happens when you smell this potion?" "You smell things that you like sir," I answer shakily. "Very good Miss Y/L/N, please, do us the honours of smelling the potion first." Dread fills me, but I still walk towards his desk. Please, I silently beg, please. "Well Y/N what do you smell?" I inhale the the aroma. "I smell- I," I gulp, "I smell roses, chocolate a-and books." Professor Slughorn applauded and awarded Ravenclaw 20 points and I return to my original place. I feel his eyes on me, but I only feel pain. After four years, how can I? As class is dismissed I begin to rush outside, but he grabs my hand. "Y/N please wa-" "Let go of me Lupin" "Y/N, please I-" "Lupin let go of me," I hear my voice break with emotion. He hears it too and let's me go.

Later that evening, at the brink of dusk, I sit in my room reading. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, a favourite of mine, and one of Remus' too. I sighed and stared out the window. Its been four years Y/N, pull yourself together. Those four years were one of the most brutal years. Thank goodness for Andromeda, without her I'd be so lost and defeated. After that day where Remus and I fought, he moved on well, he was constantly surrounded by his friends and well I, I was alone. I spent my time helping Madam Pomfrey. I learnt how to conjure spells to fix injuries and how to fix bones and so on. Although Remus and I stopped speaking, I never told anyone about his "illness," but I did help make the potion to control it, Madam Pomfrey taught me how to. He didn't know this either, not that he'd care or want to talk to me or- Pull yourself together Y/N, he forgot about you, he kept his promise and you did too. I sighed and began to turn in for the night, my mind racing.

To say I avoided Remus for the next week was an understatement, I ran from him. I spotted him the corridor, I ran the other way. Saw him in class? Sat away from him. Saw him in the library or lake? I'd be gone before he could say quiditch. It hurt, but I needed to do it, our last conversation played in my head over and over again. I couldn't bear his venom again, but I missed him, but could I manage without him? Hell yes.

On the Sunday that week, I walked down the stair well of my common room, wearing a fluffy sweater and cozy joggers. It was exactly midnight and I'd gone avoiding Remus perfectly. The heavy monsoon of October interrupted my sleep, but otherwise the school was sound. I crept down and checked for anyone. No one, lovely. Now I know what you're thinking, Y/N what on earth are you doing? Its bloody midnight. Well, I'll tell you. I was going to read. Due to my hectic schedule and lack of free periods, I spent most of the day working. But at night, it was the only time I read. I grabbed my wand and made my way to the library, my footsteps muffled by the pitter patter of the rain.

As I reached the library, I sighed in relief. No hiccups on the way, thankfully. However, the scent of chocolate lingered in the air. I tensed but brushed it aside, he was here today Y/N, I said to myself. I shook my head and began to search for a new book. I gently tapped my wand against a lantern and held it. Tonight was a mellow night, I wanted some excitement, a bit of comfort. I sighed, laughing to myself as I grabbed Pride and Prejudice from the bookshelf. I made my way to my reading nook, a cozy little spot, very hard to find, between the ends of the furthest bookshelves. As I read, my eyes became droopy. Five minute won't kill me, I convinced myself. As my eyes grew heavy and began to shut, a loud crash jolted me awake.

Who on this bloody earth would be in the library at this hour, I thought to myself. I extinguished the lantern and hid between two bookshelves. I held my breath and counted silently as I heard footsteps approaching. I exhaled slowly as I heard them fade away slowly. I stood up and sighed, picking my book from the ground, making my way back to my nook. Or I would have, if it weren't for the hand that grabbed me.

I spun around and was promptly shoved against the bookshelf, a warm lean body pressing into my cold soft one. They covered my mouth but I saw no hand, their other hand trapping my hands above my head. They slowly removed their hand from my mouth, and removed their cloak. The warmest brown eyes, eyes filled with emotions I've only read about, met mine. "Remus," I exhaled in a mix of shock, hurt and relief.

He stared at me, those big thoughtful eyes watching my every move. He took his hand and fixed my glasses that slipped down. "Hi Y/N," he said softly. My heart caught in my chest and my throat felt thick with emotions. "Let go of me Lupin," despite me being a larger girl, Remus was still stronger, by a lot. "Cmon Lupin, let me go, I'll leave and you can have your private time," I begged looking into those beautiful hazel eyes. "If I let go," he whispered softly, his breath tickling my ear, as he leaned in,"will you let me talk for a minute?" My heart hammered, "Yes." He slowly let go of my hands and stepped back. I sighed with relief, and then shoved him and ran.

I ran out the library, down the hall. I heard him calling my name but my tears that streamed my face answered why I couldn't stay. After four years, I never did stop loving my- the big goof. I reached the end of the corridor and ran onto the lawn, a stitch forming in my right side. I gasped as I felt myself begin to freeze in the cold rainy night. Bloody twit used a hex on me. He approached me with a vigor and I stared at him, tears streaming, and my heart hurting.

"What the hell Remus, let me go," I gritted as I tried to move. He took my wand away and held it. "Look, I just want to talk, I'll let you go but please, please listen to me," he pleaded. How could I ever say no to that beautiful boy? I nodded as best as I could and he unfroze me, my wand still in his hand.

I stared at him, my tears flowing in torrents, just like the rain, "What do you want Remus? I did as you asked, I left you alone," I shout over the boom of thunder. He looks at me and I saw tears flowing down his face too, "Tell me the truth Y/N" "Remus I di-" "No Y/N, tell me why you wake up every night, why you sneak off to the library every night." "I-Remus b-" "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, his voice cracking, "You made everyone believe you were uninterested, bored by reading. You lied to me," I sobbed. "I didn't want you to-" "To what Y/N to judge you?" he stepped closer to me as the rain and soaked our clothes. "To what, think you a nerd? Like me?" "No I-" "Y/N is that really what you think of me, well than-" "I lied because I couldn't let myself be vulnerable around you," I say as I sob looking away, "Remus, I- I didn't want you to see what I liked or what makes me cry, or angry or happy," I sniff as thunder booms, making us both jump. "Then why did you tell Andromeda?" I gape at him, "Yeah why?" I felt my anger build up, "She found me reading one day Lupin, I don't have to explain myself to you," I huffed as I began to walk away. "I smelt you, in the amortentia," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion.

"In our first year, I smelt you," he said, stepping closer to me,"I smelt green apples, like your perfume, cookies, like what we baked, and books. Books." I stand staring at him but he continued. "I smelt you but you never told me about how you read, why you'd come to class tired, or why you stayed up all night. I thought you trust me Y/N" "I did Remus and I do," I cried, "I just couldn't afford to be vulnerable around you." "Wh-" "Because I love you Remus," he stared his mouth ajar, "I've always loved you Remus, I love that you trust me, that you showed me everything, your likes, dislikes, loves, hates, the good and bad." The thunder boomed but I continued, "I didn't tell you because I was scared Remus, it felt like sharing a piece of my heart with you, and I didn't know if I wanted to share so much, knowing that you didn't love me." I sob miserably as tears flow slowly down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry Y/N, I never meant to hurt you," he cried stepping closer to me,"I know what I said that day, and I've never forgiven myself for it," he said as be wiped his eyes, the thunder rolling. "I'm sorry and I know I hurt you, I thought you hated me," "Remus I-" "I thought you hated me and preferred Andromeda to me." "Rem, you were my best friend, and I loved- I still love you," I admit, defeated, "I didn't want to show you everything, I didn't want you to hate me." He holds my hands and intertwined our fingers, "How could I hate you when you're my love?" he asked, as he crashed his lips to mine.

My eyes widened but I slowly melted into his embrace. He dropped my hands and pulled me in gasping softly. His hands wrapped around my waist and mine, tangled in his chocolate locks. I never felt such passion, such emotion, emotions I only read about. I felt tingling sensations stretch across my body but his touch soon soothed it. He pulled away slowly, both of us gasping for air. "I've always loved you Y/N," he said as he pulled me close, his hands wrapped around my waist,"I'm sorry I hurt you, I'm so-," I silence him kissing him softly, "It's okay Rem, I would have probably gotten mad too," I said sniffling. He chuckled stroking the small of my back. "Well, I think of a way I can make it up to you." "Oh?" I sniffle as I look at my beautiful boy. "Y/N, you are the love of my life, I love, love, love you," he holds my chin and and makes me look up at him. Raindrops and tears mixed and fell down both of our faces. "Be my girlfriend, and maybe one day-maybe one-," I kiss him and he sighs, relieved. "Yes Rem, I'll be your girlfriend."

He hugs me and kisses my forehead. We hold hands and walk in the rain, talking and laughing. "So how on earth did you know that I read in the night?" I ask him. He laughs and pulls us into the corridor, sopping. He shows me the marauders map and explains it. "I'm sorry I spied on you," he apologised blushing. He held my hand and led me back to my common room. When we reached, I turned to him. "Thank you for the walk Rem, I'll see you in class today?" He smiles his signature gorgeous grin, "How about we skip today?" I laugh and I kiss him, "Whatever you want Rem, Whatever you want."

[novelconcepts]

hey! i love your work - i've been reading every single one of your fics on ao3 since the blessed day i found you here <3 I know it might seem a bit out of character but what do you think jealousy would look like for Dani and Jamie?

It’s not jealousy, exactly. Jealousy is an ugly word, prompted by the belief that your person is, in fact, drifting--or that you are, in fact, not all there to hold their focus.

Which, admittedly, Dani isn’t. All there. Not all the time. But she still wouldn’t call this jealousy. Jealousy was Eddie’s arm tightening around her shoulders at the movie theater. Jealousy was her mother’s eyes darkening whenever a woman was too polite to her father as he ordered drinks. Jealousy was whatever kept Peter Quint locked to the Bly grounds, his fists tight around Rebecca Jessel’s desire to be better, even in death. 

Jealousy is ugly. This is not jealousy. This is...

Casual amusement. 

“So,” Jamie is saying, leaning against the counter and pointing to a brochure. “These are the most popular options for a wedding arrangement. You said you don’t want roses?”

“Tacky,” the bride says, her nose wrinkled. She’s probably in her early twenties, Dani gauges, and seems tailor-made for big, sprawling events like a wedding. Even the way she walks is orderly, her heels clacking, her body following a straight line from flower to counter and back as she speaks. 

The bride isn’t really the person Dani has been watching, all things considered. The bride knows exactly where she is, what she wants, how she’d like them to fall in line for her special day. 

It’s the other one. The maid of honor, who appears by all indication--jawline, hair color, similar smile--to be the bride’s sister. Maybe twenty-five, maybe a little older. Pretty, as these things go, though not exactly Dani’s type. 

Dani doesn’t seem to be her type, either, from the way her eyes drag up Jamie’s frame and linger around her lips. 

If Jamie has noticed any of this--the way this woman is quite literally attempting to phase through the counter to where Jamie is standing--she’s doing a remarkable job of not showing it. Her eyes sweep from bride to book and back again as she keeps up a steady stream of conversation primarily intended to keep the customer talking. Jamie’s method of finding exactly what a person is looking for is very similar to her method of living with Dani: coax them into talking about themselves, about their day, about what they like and don’t like, and piece the rest quietly together. 

She’s so busy listening, she seems to miss altogether the way the maid of honor reaches across the counter and drifts a hand close to Jamie’s. “What would you pick, for your big day?”

Jamie smiles, and though her gaze does not cut to Dani, there’s something about the way she leans back and bumps Dani’s ankle with the heel of one boot that says it all. “Haven’t really thought about it, if I’m honest. Not really the white-wedding type.”

“What type are you?” the woman asks hopefully. Dani swallows a snort. Jamie only smiles. 

“Quiet, I think. Private.”

The woman chews this over, letting her fingers sneak closer to Jamie’s hand. Jamie, politely, retrieves her own fingers before contact can be made, her attention sliding seamlessly back to the task at hand.

“So. You’re thinking how many smaller arrangements, for the tables?”

Dani is not watching the maid of honor out of true jealousy, so much as curious interest. The world is changing around them a little more every year, celebrities beginning to come out as politicians bat around the legality of love they don’t understand, and things are...improving. Cautiously, she suspects things will continue to improve, that there might one day be a time where she’ll be able to take Jamie’s hand in a public restaurant. Kiss Jamie in a movie theater. Love Jamie in some way resembling acceptable for the eyes of strangers. 

Even then, even in a world where no one cares, she can't imagine the bravado of this woman. The sheer strength of will it takes for a strange woman to meet Jamie as she steps around the counter to show them out, her hand sliding up Jamie’s arm in a fashion not remotely professional. Her voice is soft as she leans in toward Jamie’s ear, her smile predatory. 

Dani watches with curious interest, and if there is something small--a ghost of anger, a ghost of sudden sharp heat in her stomach like a fist tightening--it is nothing. It is irrelevant. Jamie is her own person, is completely welcome to whatever interactions come her way. Jamie, she reminds that part of her which sometimes feels nothing like her at all, loves her. 

Loves you, that little part murmurs, but can’t have you. Not all of you. Not the way this woman gets her husband, forever, with a ring, and a party, and a white dress--

Jamie is stepping away from the woman, a slow roll back to match the tense smile on her lips. The woman’s face is darkening, something unpleasant in her gaze when it swings to find Dani. Jamie raises a hand, waves goodbye, allows them to round the corner before she flips the sign and latches the door.

“Unbelievable,” she mutters. “Did you see that?”

“The part where she was eating you alive for an hour, or the part where she tried to mount you right at the door?” Dani says dryly. That little kicking drumbeat in her chest is still pounding away, the squeezing fist rapping out a message she can’t ignore. Even if it were legal. Even if they all understood. Even then, you wouldn’t be able to do it. 

“Don’t think her sister didn’t notice, either,” Jamie says, rumpling her hair with one hand. “Think she’ll have some explaining to do this evening--hey, you all right?”

“Sure,” Dani says, too brightly. Can’t have all of you, and doesn’t she deserve better? Doesn't she deserve someone who is always steady, always the same from dawn to dusk, who never looks into a mirror and sees--

“Dani.” Jamie’s hands are on her shoulders, Jamie’s face much closer than she realized. She starts, nearly stumbles, relieved when Jamie’s grip tightens just enough to keep her upright. “You look like you’ve seen a--”

“Just...” Dani shakes her head. How to put this? How to explain it? “Just...something about that didn’t...sit right, I guess.”

“No,” Jamie agrees, “I’d think not. Handsy, wasn’t she? But I hope you don’t think--hope I’ve never given you cause to worry--’cuz, Dani, honest to God, I’ve never--”

She looks so nervous, it’s almost like the years have rolled back to a sunny day in this very shop, to a single moonflower and Jamie’s hopeful smile. All at once, that grip of fear in her gut loosens, Dani’s breath returning to her in a long sweep. 

“Jamie. Breathe.” 

“No, I only--I know how it probably looked, but she was trying to give me her number, and I--”

“Told her she’d have to get in line?” Dani teases. Jamie looks about ready to swallow her own tongue. 

“Told her I'd never met someone half as in love as me, and she should be lucky to find the same someday.”

“Oh my god, Jamie, she’s never going to come back.” She’s laughing, unable to stop herself. Jamie, not looking even the least bit ashamed, tucks her hands into her pockets and shrugs. 

“I didn’t like the way you were looking at her, is all.”

“What, like I was going to escort her out in a fury and blame it on my low-key possession?” 

“No.” Jamie is not smiling. There is an earnest quality to her face, even as she reaches up and touches Dani’s cheek. “Like she was making you sad. Haven’t seen you like that since we left England. Dani, honestly, you know I’d never want...anything but this. Ever.”

It isn’t a question. It is maybe the truest thing Jamie has ever said, and it pulls at Dani’s heart harder for that. 

“I trust you,” she says quietly. “It wasn’t that. Wasn’t even her. Just...it’s enough? Even knowing we don’t know...even knowing there could only be--”

“It’s enough,” Jamie says, cupping her face in both hands, pressing her forehead to Dani’s with enough force to make them both laugh a little. “It’s always enough.”

She kisses Dani once, twice, and Dani lets herself linger in the moment. Lets herself forget about windows and strangers and tempting hands striving to coax Jamie off the path. None of it matters. None of it matters if Jamie is truly happy here, if Jamie is truly home here. 

“I’m only saying,” she says when Jamie breaks, glances back over her shoulder, begins guiding Dani backwards toward the supply room. “You have options, for when I’m too old or too boring. What was she, the seventh one to try to slip you a phone number?”

Jamie groans. “What is it about me? Do I have emotionally available stamped on my forehead? This never used to happen in England.”

“You scowl much less now,” Dani points out, breathless when Jamie sweeps an arm around her waist and dips her toward the couch. “And you wear all those suspenders--”

“Could tell them,” Jamie teases, following her down. “Could greet each and every woman at the door with, ‘Welcome to The Leafling, purveyors of fine floral arrangements, my name is Jamie and this perfect specimen is the love of my--’”

She’s kissing Dani, all jokes forgotten, and Dani finds herself dreaming--not for the first time--of wild possibilities. Of a sunset wedding, of friends gathered close, of Jamie kissing her just like this in front of anyone who matters even a little bit. Of what it would be like, to look at Jamie and know how real they are, even in the moments Dani doesn’t feel real at all. 

Doesn’t take a wedding for that, she thinks, as Jamie’s lips trail down flushed skin. Doesn’t take anything except for her...and me...and...

There’s a ring she’s been looking at. A simple thing, gold, heart-hands-crown. No one would know. No one would need to know. All that matters is...all that matters is...

She can’t have all of you, that horrible awareness of time mutters. Dani closes her eyes, grips tighter to Jamie as she vanishes into the kiss. 

She gets everything that counts, she decides here and now. She gets it until there’s nothing left to give. 

[paper-cloud]

i. the crushing weight of what happens next

part of "(there will be a) tomorrow"

fandom: prospect (2018) characters: ezra, cee rating: T words count: ~3K context: post-canon general warnings/tags: see series masterlist warnings/tags for this chapter: ezra's pov. angst. not graphic descriptions of wounds, blood and amputated limbs. mentions of minor characters' death. (probably very) inaccurate but anyways vague descriptions of medical treatments and post-anesthesia symptoms. taglist: @ravensmutty @buttercup--bee @thegreenkid (again, thank you all for your interest and encouragement! :3) @krissology @ezrasarm @bonktime (please forgive my nerve, i won't tag you in the next chapters unless you'll explicitly ask me to! just thought about someone else who might be interested and you guys are AMAZINGLY talented and inspiring "prospect"/ezra writers. it's not my intention to waste precious moments of your time! 🤡

[SERIES MASTERLIST] [MAIN MASTERLIST]

He'd have thought it was almost ironic – opening his eyes to the light only to see nothing. To feel pain.

He'd have laughed about it, most likely. A bit later, he'd have acknowledged it was a reasonably fair compromise; for him and any other wretch that'd ever dared play dice with darkness and miraculously made it out alive.

And in the very end he'd come to laugh at himself, too.

He knows the drill. Someone who trades their own life with the contract of the highest bidder doesn't see the universe in black and white, let alone is in a position to draw the hypothetical line between the two of them.

Must be an even more wicked universe than he's ever cared about, then.

At least, that's where the struggle of opening his eyes made him stumble upon; when a blade of light thrust through that hint of a gap he'd pushed himself to create in the middle, resonating through the dark coils of unconsciousness like a harsh, unforgiving bell.

A skilled mariner over silky rivers of natural redundancy and rapids of professional edges, Ezra is a man who can appreciate a sharp wit when he recognizes one.

That was too much even for him.

Floundering in between a blinding whiteness and a black hole that wasn't even completely black, but permeated by a thick, suffocating haze that filled every ghost haunting his mind with its stench. With the color of diabolically lush leaves.

Forest— spores— poison— death.

It hadn't been enough to let him dangle in apnea above a roaring vortex of lifeless emerald; take him away from the grey flow whose elusiveness he'd come to appreciate more than he'd ever hated to endure its chaos— from the bubble built on the routine series of one last jobs that, in the end, never really were.

There'd been a moment when, from the higher parts of the room, his pupils tumbled down, tripping over a patch of green discreetly lurking in a corner.

He almost threw up.

It had taken him a while to clear out the misty grit clotted in his corneas— focus on white walls, light wood paneling... a harmless seedling in a pot.

He'd breathed heavily, deeply. He sure hadn't got much relief from it. Still, he'd been able to hear its sound, louder than he'd ever heard it before, the musical, cooling mesh of oxygen particles in and out of his lungs almost begging his fingers to be touched.

Oxygen.

Fresh air.

Had he been less sore – less convinced it was just the residual effects of anesthesia pulling pranks on him –, he would have burst out laughing. Even more so if some poor soul of the medical staff nearby would have called for reinforcements from the other side of the space station before storming into his room.

He'd be laughing now, too. The best he can manage is sitting on his bed, leaning his back on the headboard – which is what he's struggling to do right now— and well, sometimes the room lighting still slightly bothers him. Of course, with all the painkillers and antibiotics they've given him, he wouldn't feel like the wound on his stomach is swallowing the entire arsenal of stitches and bandages.

He just wouldn't like her to get the wrong idea.

He blinks several times, like a man who no longer trusts his eyes. How can he, when they're burning like that, in such a different fire from the one from days before – damp and flickering? For reasons he can imagine, she seems to be faltering. Totally beyond his comprehension, he could swear she's smiling at him. Something inside his ribcage creaks oddly, while the curve of his chest arches upward.

"Birdie."

It's just a huff of breath, weak and hoarse, yet scratches his throat all the same, in a way that its walls feel studded with rock spurs. Actually, Ezra doesn't remember talking since they left the Green behind – which, being him, is saying something – and it's like an eternity has passed since their pod docked up there.

The nurse who let her into his room has just left and Cee sinks her hands into the pockets of her sweatpants. She's still smiling— just the faded shadow of a smile, now that he takes a better look at her.

"How's your wound?"

It sounds a lot less plain than he expected.

She hasn't moved towards him any further, and for now she's not showing any hints at wanting to. In her irises, Ezra recognizes thumping stars and cerulean clouds, all clustered in the black circle cut by the large porthole next to his bed. All before catching the thin mist veiling them. As if she did want to reach those stars, let herself get carried away by those streams of bluish dust, but she had no idea how or what to do there.

He looks down, the borders of the bandages over his abdomen slightly raised under his black short-sleeved tee. He clears his throat.

"S'healin' nicely", he says, with a deliberate lightheartedness that costs him a sharp, bizarre inflection in his voice. He closes his eyes soon after, tilting his head condescendingly. "That's how the nurse feels about it, anyway... S'not like I can feel much more right now."

This reminds him of those vacuous moments between brief, chaotic waking states and delirious dreams. When he'd managed to reconnect some essential key points scattered around in the talks of surgeons and nurses; the weariness he felt from simply gathering he was on a space station due to enter the orbit of Mesos in three cycles and something standard hours. All while his only solid reference point – the only indisputable proof he was still alive – was the sequence of beeps chirped by the medical monitor perched nearby. Constant, not monotonous. Friendly, even. Sometimes, he actually comes to miss it.

"A trust fall to the extreme, I'd guess", he snorts, a sly laugh as weak and heavy as the words trudging out of his mouth. As the whole rest of him.

Whatever answer she's considering, Cee freezes it in a quick purse of her lips – maybe a nod, but for his own good he'd rather be doubtful. Then she starts looking around.

There's a chair under the board firmly anchored to the opposite wall – probably a desk or something he's never needed to test, whatsoever. She grabs it and puts it next to his bed. She sits down, bringing her legs to her chest, squeezing them in her arms.

Waiting for what, Ezra has no idea, and he's afraid she doesn't have any, either.

He doesn't speak, though, nor does he encourage her to do the same. Her pearly gaze roams steadily but unhurriedly from him to somewhere beyond him, her nose buried in the gap between her knees. He studies her carefully, two purple crescents above her cheeks, a few hair strands swinging down her face without her wiping them out. The nights she's slept through haven't been any more peaceful than his.

Trust, he recalls in the meantime.

It sure brings an odd taste to his mouth. Something close to sweaty spacesuits, grimy paths and gone-off ration bars. A single word for two human beings forced to share the same air filter for days; that, and the image of a dead body left to rot miles behind and the desperate commitment not to end up in the same way.

His gaze just happens to trip over his right side, taking in the deflated sleeve over the emptiness that saved his life. When he lifts it back to the girl, meeting her eyes just before they can flutter away, he realizes they were both looking at the same spot. And he realizes something else— something he's already understood, yet not quite.

There is no tube binding them now.

"Why d'you do it?", he mumbles a split second later, almost like somehow the thread of his question has immediately knotted to the one of his previous thought.

He huffs. He shouldn't even have asked her, in all honesty. Seeing her like this, at least he should have put it in another way, danced around it, it's not like he’s never been good at stalling, after all—

"Comin' back", Ezra says instead, and when he swallows, he mainly does it to send his heart back down his throat. If he'd died without being given the last chance to be this straightforward on this matter, he would have probably kicked his ass all the way to the other side. 

This time, Cee doesn't avoid his gaze. He shouldn't be surprised by how collected she looks, given the calmness she handled his infected arm with and then told him about when she used to slip into Jata Bhalu carcasses. But he can't help it when he thinks she can't be much older now than what she was then.

He watches her breathing in, wobbling her pupils here and there, seemingly considering his words. She's not afraid, not any more than what she seemed to be when she walked into his room. Maybe she's just better than him at playing pretend – but this, he can't tell whether it's more of a good than a bad thing. Especially for her.

One thing he can tell is that she's not the same girl who pointed a trembling gun at him before running away into the woods. He knows she's not afraid.

He knows...

So is it the hunter's instinct he has to blame if he feels she is?

"Guess I've seen too much death on that forsaken moon to just... turn my back on one I can help– one I can do something about."

If he was standing in front of an entire mountain crumbling down into the ocean, he wouldn't hear its sound. ‘Wouldn't even be the worst he deserves. She did hesitate before adding the last few words, but Ezra refuses to believe she did that because she was afraid of hurting him. He may be a wretch, but not a fool.

Kevva, for a man who's always managed to untwist himself from far tougher situations with the tangles of his tongue alone, he's sure having a deal of trouble – and he wishes he could put all the blame on his current physical condition.

There is no word he doesn't have to weigh carefully now, to prevent it from taking too sharp edges once out of his lips. He may float around it forever. But once he's let her go without saying anything, he'll hardly find the courage to look within himself again, more than after any other job that hardened his hands with calluses and tarnished his eyes with blood.

He doesn't know for sure. In fact, everything he was sure to know – about the turning direction of the universe and the one of the wheels in his head – has already collapsed in front of him, tracing a flaming tail. An unforgiving meteor following a trajectory far beyond his grasp.

He just knows silence scares him, in a way that a wrong word will never do again. It terrifies him. More than as a talkative person, as a castaway on a hostile moon for too many cycles to keep their count – with the only company of a mute. Silence is green; the green of the most poisonous pollen, lethal in his brain just like toxic spores enveloped in his lungs. The green of snake scales ready to stand and scratch his flesh until liquid crimson pours out of it.

And at the end of the day, this is the only fucking thing he can tell himself to know without having his guts churning and chest heaving a beat later.

"Stop looking at me like that."

It's more of an exhausted prayer than an annoyed remark. Ezra blinks, stunned by the sudden return from the shapeless stream of his thoughts.

"Like what?"

"Like you're looking for the words to thank me", Cee settles back into her chair and this time she lets one leg touch the floor, "Tell me you owe me, and you– you're sorry about what you did."

Ezra sniffles. "Would it be bad?" 

"No, it—". She closes her eyes for a moment, clenching her jaw. "Just no good", she breathes out, calmer.

And the discordant note in those words conjures up ghosts not yet vague enough for Ezra to be able to tolerate them without something twinging inside him— like a violent flutter of wings. Voices groping their way up ravels of compromises. Damon, deep in the forest. Himself, with the mercenaries in the Queen's Lair. Cee, days before that. After he—

She's right— those words she hasn't said yet, but whose shadow he feels looming every time he catches her wetting her lips.

Some things just can't be split evenly.

"This is not the Green", she states, suddenly more confident but no less exhausted. "If you're going to hang around just because you need to, once we reach Mesos¹ you'd better be on your way."

Ezra doesn't interrupt her. A faded echo starts making its way into his ears. A former prospecting partner, many years ago. An easy job on a forgettable Fringe moon.

Gems don't have an expiration date. Deals do. Strike 'em if you need to, get rid of them as soon as you can. Unless you care to dig a quicker way to your grave.

He didn't pay attention to it, then. He'd thought it was just the empty rhetoric prospectors drop absentmindedly to fill the time between an unrewarding digging and the next. All the more so under the rickety advice of a couple too many.

His eyes still wide open, hands shaky, he merely reciprocated the awkward bottle lift of his partner, whom he didn't know more than the meanders of that quarry. A toast to a faceless future – a nothingness still more reassuring than what was all around and behind them. Not to the darkness of the cave, basically unbreakable if only for the red halo thrown by the twinkles of sharp, sinister Prystines². Not even to the two poor bastards that had set out with them, ending up skewered a few hundred paces behind – one by mistake, the other to return the favor of saving him from the clutches of a furious Aiu³.

Like an idiot.

Several contracts later preventing him from missing a beat in front of similar hiccups, the logic of that statement no longer sounds so absurd to Ezra. Luckily for him, Cee understood it long before him.

"I was just lookin' for the words to tell ya you'll be better off without me—"

Half a truth. Half a heartbeat. After all, she isn't the only one of them who knows how to sell it.

He leans his head back against the headboard, eyes half-closed, a sly grin baring a couple of his upper teeth. It would almost be intimidating, except that the glint hitting them doesn't quite match the dying one in his eyes.

"—But you beat me to it", he finishes, and he sounds like he's about to fall asleep.

He slowly turns his head away, looks through the porthole. His gaze clutches to the passing asteroids outside, distant nebulae spraying the sidereal black with hues of purple, blue, red— then green, again. A climbing plant squeezing him from the inside, discomfort starts creeping on him an inch of his body – what's left of it – at a time.

He doesn't want her to think he's angry at her, and it's the only concrete foothold emerging from the fluid, magmatic chaos in his mind.

How could he be, when she came back to get him?

She didn't have to.

She doesn't have to be here, either...

"I'm sorry", she suddenly blurts out.

He meets her eyes again, a mix of bewilderment and disapproval shading his own. He shakes his head.

"Don't."

"I just—". She starts fiddling with the extra fabric created by the folds of her sweatpants. Then she sighs deeply. "I have no idea what I'm gonna do now."

He snorts. "Not that it's s'pposed to make you feel any better, but... neither do I."

He doesn't have a hazy helmet choking the glimmer in his eyes, an air filter breaking some frequencies in his voice— maybe just those making him sound sincere, while saving those trapping him into the swamp of self-loathing.

He was nothing but honest when he told her the rules of the game on the Green. When he openly admitted he was a killer, and when he assured her he wouldn't trade her for the Sater's Aurelac. And she's always seemed to believe him, maybe for that kind of desperate inertia that washes over people when they need something to cling to. Whatever the case, Ezra can only hope she wants to believe him now. But she doesn't speak, and for a moment his fear of not saying enough overcomes that of crossing her boundaries.

"But w—", he immediately bites his tongue, "—you still have three cycles to figure things out. Someone up here will be able to help you. Even so, please know you'll always have my most sincere gratitude."

The effort of lining up all those words and so few pauses to catch his breath casts a thick fog over his ears. His eyes suddenly hurt again and he finds himself squinting.

What happens next, he just records it, hardly managing to follow each cause-effect relationship. A series of events softly raining on him without making a noise, while he can quite imagine them to be way more prolonged in time. Cee leaning towards the lighting panel on the wall, sliding her finger counterclockwise, and the white coating the walls turning less painfully bright; her getting up, walking away, dwelling just before the door. "I'll come to check on you tomorrow", she says, sniffling.

She tilts her head, holding his gaze in her watery one for an agonizingly slow while – Please, don't ask me why.

He blinks once – Of course.

Then, the automatic door is once again engulfed by the wall, closing behind her with a metallic rustle.

Tomorrow.

His heart is taken by a spiraling jolt that leaves an empty cave behind. When it falls back into place, Ezra finds something has tripped in there, shapeless and quivering like the nucleus of a newborn star.

Hope, terror and everything that lies in between. 

___________________

NOTES:

1) Mesos — Invented planet. Its only raison d'être is that "mésos" in Greek means "middle" and my intent was to frame this story in a moment of transition (after those of movies) for both Ezra and Cee. 2) Prystines — Invented kind of crystals. They're implied to be huge, red and very sharp, thus endangering the path through the cave. 3) Aiu — Invented predator, ideally a big feline.

A/N:

Yeah, uhm... at this point, if someone was ever to give me any kind of feedback, constructive criticism or random thought, I think I'd just melt into a puddle for the attention alone. And to all those who came all the way down here, your bravery shall not be forgotten. ♥️✨

In my defense, it's (almost) all P**** P*****'s fault & of his habit of taking orphans under his wing from one planet to another.

I know people in the fandom generally tend to make Ezra and Cee go along straight away after the movie, so this will be a slightly different take on things, I guess... But even if I don't know if I'll keep this series going atm (life & maturity exam suck), a final reconciliation is definitely on the way. ;)

Oh, and any beta reader that should feel like helping me out for when I'll have the next chapters ready is warmly welcomed! My DMs are always open and I swear I don't bite! :3

[sakuric]

tslmty. | sorry doesn't fix shit.

warning: this chapter contains strong language, mentions of abuse and other triggering topics.

suna got a call the next morning. he opened his eyes, slightly squinting them as the light from the phone irritated his eyes. it was a call. he hoped it was from y/n, but it was quite opposite. it was his mother.

fifteen missed calls within the last half an hour, he slept through all. he picked up the phone and heard his mother sigh in relief.

"i was going to call an ambulance over there, oh my god, suna what were you thinking?!" his mother's irritating voice blasted into suna's ear.

"mom i was asleep."

"at three pm?"

"yeah..." suna yawned. "anyway what do you want?"

"i wanted to ask you to come over."

"why so?"

"well, you haven't gathered all your stuff and we're renting your room."

"mm," suna hummed, slightly irritated that his mother was selling his room for someone else to use. "i'll come by in like an hour, let me get ready."

"good." with that, his mother hung up.

"this couldn't have been a better fucking day." suna said sarcastically as he laid down and physically face palmed himself.

—

"ah, you're here." it didn’t take a genius to notice the ice cold venom lacing through her words when she’d finally acknowledged him. ever since he’d begun dressing the way that he wanted to, his mother had always made snide comments, saying that he’s never going to go far in life if he continues to be a sleazy and unkempt piece of shit. yes, his mother had said it to his face.

"yeah,” he curtly responded, not really caring for another one of her bitchy episodes. he just wanted to move on and get out of there as soon as he could. “i’ll go get my stuff and leave."

"hold on, rin." his mother stopped him. some years ago, it took everything in him to maintain the neutral expression on his face and not scowl in annoyance. now, he didn’t even think twice about displaying his displeasure towards her. “we need to talk about something important."

"what is it? have you finally gotten that shitty job of yours? or have you finally found someone to replace me as a son?" he spat, his emotions boiling restlessly in his chest like scalding water.

"i've gotten it a long time ago, and who are you to talk to your mother like that? what kind of person are you to think i would do such a thing?" suna scoffed in disbelief.

"i'm your fucking child! what kind of mother are you to fucking envy me like this?” he raised his voice at his mother, he could feel the anger slowly rising and he was so sure that he was going to erupt at any given moment. not wanting to escalate things further, he took a deep breath before continuing in a more tamed volume and tone of voice. “you don't even fucking call unless you need something from me."

"why would i call you? you don't even act like my son, let alone treat me like a mother!" oh, she was going to pull that card out? that’s fine. he had his own and he’s going to show her.

"because you're not acting like one! when was the last time you congratulated me for my birthday?!" suna's voice cracked. he couldn’t keep the tears at bay anymore, hot tears now streaming down his face. he wanted to do punch a wall, the seething anger bleeding through his lungs and caging him like a suffocating trap.

"last year..?" it sounded more like a question than a statement. he didn’t expect anything more from her.

"five years ago, mom. five years ago, back when you thought i was something special... back when you were proud to call me your son." suna sniffled, wiping his tears with the sleeve of his shirt.

"i- rin... i'm sorry."

"sorry doesn't fix shit, mom."

"see, you didn't even take my apology into consideration." she was quick to flip her switch, thinly pencilled in eyebrows furrowing together in a sickly frown as she crossed her arms across her chest.

"was it honest?" suna cocked an eyebrow upwards.

"what?"

"was your apology honest?" he repeated himself. she only stared back at him, lips pressed into a thin line and jaw clenching at the brutal truth of his words. suna weakly scoffed. "that's what i thought."

his blood still boiling and heart beating rapidly, he stomped upstairs to his room. packing the stuff hurriedly, he couldn't help but tear up again. he hated fighting with his mother. it was exhausting for him. he never raised his voice at anyone, but his mother made him feel like the whole world was crashing down at an immeasurable pace.

he stepped back downstairs to find his mother opening a bottle of whiskey, like she usually would whenever something pissed her off.

"are you sure that's gonna help?" suna spat, rolling his eyes at the way his mother grew more infuriated.

"you don't know what can help me- you don't know shit, rintarou!" his mother's gaze burned holes in suna's chest, her voice as harsh as ever. suna was ready for whatever she decided to spit at him next. was it gonna be another snide comment about him? or something partially insulting?

"you're just like your father, ungrateful and pathetic. do you know how much i've done for you?" she spat and took another large gulp of the whiskey. "the least you could do is respect my decision and move back in with me!" her eyes gazed at suna's teary ones, suddenly looking him up & down, and chuckling to herself. "pathetic fucking bastard..."

"i'm not moving in with you." suna's voice was stern and monotone, he was trying his best not to show any emotion. his mother stood up, the anger taking over her body. she stepped closer to suna and not hesitating a second she slapped him harder than ever before.

"did you not fucking hear what i said?!"

"i did." suna pushed her away. "i'm leaving and this time it's for good. you'll never see me again."

"good! fuck off for all i care!" her strong voice with a mix of slurred words was the final thing to break suna. he scoffed to himself before picking up the fallen suitcase and running out of the house.

he didn't care where he ran, he didn't care where his legs would take him, all he cared about was getting far away from that hell hole and his bitch of a mother.

masterlist.

suna's dad left their family when suna was very little.

his mother had always hated his guts and tried her best to contain herself, but after he started doing worse in school there wasn't a day where she wouldn't remind him how useless he was.

taglist; @elianetsantana @soranihimawari @ichorizaki @haengbokpixie @icedberrytea @bebegi @sadraging-wh0re @heyatsumu @anngelllla @admiringlove @erens-piss-cleaner @sunasthing @kac-chowsballs @honeydrip

special thanks to @icorizaki for helping me with this chapter.

[lilylysanderscorpius]

Lily stopped abruptly almost tripping over a step at the sound of her own name.

Then she heard the unsettling sound of her grandmother crying.

'We have to warn her Ginevra- did you not warn her about associating with his kind?' Molly lamented.

Lily frowned, her heart beating fast.

'Warn me about what?' she asked, stepping down the last few steps and into the kitchen.

There was a loud noise of paper rustling as Ginny immediately thrust whatever she and Molly had been looking at behind her back.

'Lily' Ginny's face went pale as she addressed her daughter.

Lily looked from her mother's face to her grandmother's. Molly Weasley looked as though someone had died; her face was stained with tears and her nose was running a little. Upon seeing Lily she let out another long, sorrowful wail.

Ginny looked at her mother with an exasperated expression before turning back to her daughter.

'Lily, we don't want to upset you. This could be a little… surprising'

'What is it?' Lily's voice rose and her chest heaved in trepidation. She'd never seen her grandmother so upset- at least not since James had vandalized her signed copy of 'Magical Me' by Gilderoy Lockhart.

Ginny looked her gravely in the eye and slowly took the magazine out from behind her back.

'We need to ask you if this is real' she said swallowing hard.

Lily looked down at the magazine in front of her. Splashed across the top were the words 'Witch Weekly' in large pink letters. But it was what was underneath those letters that made Lily's stomach flip and her entire body start to sweat. Her eyes widened, her lips parted and she let out a small whimper of shock.

Underneath those awful pink letters was a moving photograph- a very close up photograph of Scorpius.

Scorpius with his lips on her lips.

Scorpius with his hands on her neck and his thumbs brushing her cheeks affectionately.

And there she was kissing him back just as passionately.

Their faces took up the whole cover, every movement of their lips and flutter of their eyelids as they moved against each other clearly visible.

The colour drained from Lily's face and her hands shook violently. She looked up at her mother and grandmother with an expression of utter horror before instinctively turning on her heal and running back up the stairs.

'Lily! Lily wait!' Ginny yelled up after her with concern. Her calls were drowned out by the sound of Molly's distressed wails at the realization that Lily's reaction could mean only one thing; that photo was no fabrication.

Lily throttled back into her room and slammed the door shut behind her. She let herself fall back into the door and slid down it into a heap on the floor, breathing heavily.

Her mind raced. Witch weekly. The cover of witch weekly. How many people would see it? All of magical England? Perhaps some of France and America too?

The thought made her feel suddenly nauseous.

Could she stop it? Get her mother to make a complaint to the editors; stop the sale of it?

But of course not- if her grandmother had it then it was already out there. Already printed. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of copies. Of that photo.

Lily gulped. That photo. Judging from the studs in Scorpius' ear and nose it had to have been taken when they kissed on Halloween. Her face burned, her entire body hot with embarrassment.

There was a loud thumping sound and Lily jumped, pulled out of her muddled thoughts. It was Ginny knocking on the door behind her.

'Lily- dear please come out. You- you're not in trouble. Of course you aren't- we just need to...need to figure this out' Ginny pleaded through the door.

Lily stayed silent. She didn't know what to say. What was there to say?

'You need to tell us what's going on with you and this Scorpius boy… just explain so that we can make sure there are no false rumors going around-'

Scorpius, Lily thought with a jolt. She had to warn him.

Lily hurriedly got up off the floor and ran forward to open the window and call for Weebles. He swooped up into her room and she immediately went about writing a short note to send Scorpius;

Our photograph is in Witch Weekly. My family's seen it. Be careful.

She didn't know how, or of what, he was supposed to be careful but in her current state of mind she couldn't think of anything else to say. She quickly attached the small piece of parchment to Weebles' leg and instructed him sternly to give it to Scorpius and Scorpius only.

As Lily watched Weebles fly off into the distance, she could still hear her mother pleading through the door.

She sighed deeply.

She would have to face this. There was no other way but to go back downstairs and explain. Lily gathered her wits about her, took a deep breath and opened the door.

Seeing the look of nervousness on her daughters face, Ginny silently pulled her into a tight hug.

'Come on' she said gently, giving Lily an encouraging smile. With an arm around her shoulders she led her downstairs to where Grandma Molly was still weeping in distress. Only now Grandpa Arthur was standing by her side looking incredibly uncomfortable as he tried to console her.

'Come now dear, don't cry, it's just a photograph… we'll figure this out' he mumbled, sounding stiff and terribly unconvincing.

Lily stopped in front of her grandparents and looked down at her hands, which she was twisting together nervously.

'It'll be alright dear' Ginny said, standing by her side and softly rubbing her shoulder.

Lily gingerly stepped forward and took her grandmothers hands in her own.

'Grandma- I know you might have heard some bad things about Scorpius's family- I know they weren't, well that they weren't on the right side in the war but-'

'Not on the right side? Not on the right side?!' Molly wailed incredulously. 'Lily, they were death eaters! Their lot are responsible for the rise of the dark lord! For the death of Teddy's dear parents- and of your grandparents! For the death of- of-'

Molly's lower lip trembled and she looked as though she might break at the seams from her grief. Arthur quickly put his hands on her shoulders and gently squeezed them as though hoping the physical act of holding her together would keep her together mentally too.

'-of my dear boy, your late uncle Fred' Molly finished with a heartbreaking sob.

Lily's gaze fell and she stared at the table, unable to face her grandmothers grief stricken eyes.

'I know that Grandma- I do' Lily whispered. She swallowed hard and forced herself to speak louder. 'But Scorpius- he has nothing to do with that. And he's a good person, if you had ever met him you would see that-'

'No my poor dear- you've been tricked!' Molly exclaimed, throwing her head back and looking at Lily with alarm. 'I know what their lot is like. I was at Hogwarts with his grandfather! Always seemed so charming, so handsome. A very popular boy that Lucius Malfoy. Fooled all the girls, he did- but he was rotten to the core-'

'Mum-' Ginny cut in quickly, putting a hand to Lily's shoulder again. 'Please, we can't jump to conclusions. None of us have ever even met the boy-'

But Ginny was interrupted by a loud knock at the front door. She let out a sigh and hurried off to open it. Moments later Ron's voice could be heard in the hallway getting louder and louder as he approached the kitchen.

'Ginny! There's something you need to see. Something terribly distressing I'm afraid. Quite shocking indeed. It concerns Lily-'

Ron stopped abruptly upon reaching the kitchen and finding himself face to face with a very annoyed looking Lily. He looked from her to Molly, who was still letting out loud, heaving sobs seated at the small breakfast table.

'Oh...' Ron exhaled awkwardly. 'Already seen this then?'

He held up a copy of Witch Weekly in one hand and Lily lunged forward to tear it out of his grasp so that she could get it out of everyone's line of vision. She threw it angrily in the sink and inexplicably caused a stream of water to burst out of the tap above drenching it.

'Lily! No magic outside of Hogwarts!' Ginny scolded her, hurrying forward with her wand out to stop the stream of water.

'Hey! That cost almost a whole Galleon you know-' Ron exclaimed but he swallowed the rest of his sentence upon seeing the death glare Ginny sent his way.

'A galleon you've just contributed to the magazine that is prying into my daughters private life!' she yelled at him.

'Well I didn't know you already had a copy...' Ron muttered sulkily.

Rose and Hugo peered awkwardly out from behind Ron who still stood frozen in the doorway. Upon seeing Lily, Rose pushed past her dad and ran over to throw an arm around her in comfort.

'I'm guessing you didn't get the 'talk' then' she whispered to Lily sympathetically as Ginny forced Ron down into one of the chairs next to Molly so that he could comfort her.

'What 'talk'?' Lily shot back in confusion.

'The 'no dating Scorpius Malfoy talk'' Rose hissed under her breath.

'I've heard it almost a million times. Dad gives it to me at the beginning of every semester'

Lily shook her head at the ridiculousness of it all. She'd never seen her uncle exchange even one word with Scorpius and yet he'd felt compelled to warn his daughter away from him. She looked over at her Uncle Ron with renewed annoyance. He sat with a comforting hand on Molly's back whispering to her.

'It's alright mum. Remember when Ginny went out with that twat Micheal Corner? That only lasted about three seconds…'

'But I LIKED Micheal Corner!' Molly exclaimed, missing Ron's point entirely.

'Who on earth is Micheal Corner?' James asked lazily from the doorway.

Lily shot around in alarm. She could see Albus standing behind him. The pair were in their good dress robes, ready for the dinner party. They both looked equally confused to see Grandma Molly in tears and everyone else standing around looking shell-shocked.

Lily ran over to the table to grab the other copy of Witch Weekly before her brothers could spy it, but just at that moment there was a tapping on the glass of the kitchen window. A large black raven was perched on the windowsill outside.

It took her a few moments to realize this was the raven that had delivered Scorpius's presents all those years ago when they had spent Christmas in the Room of Requirement.

Lily forgot about the magazine momentarily and ran instead to the window. She opened it up and held out a hand into which the bird dropped a small piece of folded parchment. Lily heard an outraged gargling noise come from behind her signaling that James had seen the magazine.

'LILY- WHAT? WHAT? WHAT- IS- THIS?' James spluttered loudly and stupidly in her direction.

Lily let out a sigh, closing her eyes. She still couldn't believe this was happening. She heard Albus muttering and tutting under his breath, seemingly unsurprised.

'Merlin Lily- I told you this would happen…'

Lily ignored them both and quickly opened up the folded parchment, hoping whatever Scorpius had to say about this sorry situation would somehow be comforting.

But she had no such luck.

Lily's eyes bulged and her heart thud upon reading the neat, cursive writing in front of her.

'No! No!' She exclaimed in despair.

Ginny rushed forward to see what was wrong as James continued to have a meltdown in the middle of their kitchen.

'SCORPIUS MALFOY? MALFOY? LILY WHAT WHERE YOU THINKING?'

'What is it dear?' Ginny asked hurriedly, taking the piece of parchment out of Lily's stunned hands to look. She looked down and gasped under her breath.

'Oh Merlin…'

The small piece of parchment read;

Don't worry- I'll come over and explain.

Lily looked up at her mother with a pained expression.

'He's coming here! Mum he's coming here-!'

Lily felt panic flood her veins. She did not want Scorpius to see her family like this.

'Yes, not such a good idea right now' Ginny agreed hastily. 'Perhaps owl him back and let him know now is not a good time. He's welcome of course some other time- after, well, after I've explained all this to your father-'

Lily's stomach clenched with dread; her father. He was still at the Ministry but the moment he came home he would find out. He would see it. That photo. In fact, maybe he already had.

'THE BOY WHO THREATENS PEOPLE WITH UNFORGIVABLE CURSES!? THE BOY WHO SPENDS ALL HIS TIME READING UP ON DARK MAGIC? YOU CHOSE TO SNOG THAT BOY?!'

James was still yelling in the middle of the kitchen and his descriptions of Scorpius were causing Grandma Molly to gasp in despair that her suspicions about his character had been confirmed.

'SHUT UP JAMES!' Ginny roared, sending the entire room into a tense silence.

Lily ignored them all and rushed around looking for a quill and ink.

She tried to find the right words to put it politely but in her current panicked state all she could think of was; Don't come. She lent on the kitchen bench and began to write, but her shaking hands caused her to blotch up the paper and need to start again several times.

'Lily hurry dear, he might be on his way…' Ginny said quietly beside her.

Lily took a few deep breaths, steadied her hand and went about writing;

Scorpius, please don't come. Now is not a good time.

She folded it up and held it out to Scorpius's raven. The bird just blinked back at her.

'Please take this to Scorpius and please hurry' she begged, willing the menacing looking creature to listen to her. The raven cocked it's head to the side before opening it's large, sharp beak to take her parchment.

To Lily's surprise it flapped its wings and flew not outside but inside. It shot past her stunned looking relatives and down the hallway towards the front door.

Lily rushed after it, a feeling of dread tugging at her heart. Just as the bird reached the end of the long, slender entranceway, the doorbell rang.

Lily skidded to a halt in front of the door. She groaned internally. It couldn't be. It truly couldn't be.

But it was.

She gingerly opened the door to find a very nervous looking Scorpius standing on the doorstep, wearing a pair of ripped black jeans, an old grey t-shirt and the dusty brown apron that he wore when helping his father with the shop. He must have come directly from Knockturn Ally and thus arrived so quickly. The raven immediately flew out and deposited the parchment into his hand.

'Lily-' he gasped as he took the parchment from the bird. He looked more stricken than Lily had ever seen him.

'I don't know how this happened- but I think we ought to explain this to your parents and-

Scorpius stopped suddenly and looked her up and down in surprise.

'You- you're dressed nicely' he noted looking at her dress robes.

He absentmindedly opened up the parchment and began to read as more words tumbled out of his mouth.

'Anyway I thought- I thought I should really help you explain seeing as how this is sort of my family's fault for being so notorious and all and- oh'

Having let the words on the parchment sink in, Scorpius's face became even paler.

'S-sorry. I'll- I'll go-' he spluttered turning around quickly and making to disappear as fast as he had appeared.

'No, Scorpius-!'

Lily rushed out and grabbed his wrist.

'You're welcome to come in Mr Malfoy'

Lily and Scorpius both turned quickly around at the sound of Ginny's voice. She was standing in the doorway looking much more together and calm than either of them, beckoning for them to come in.

'Go on. You've come all this way' Ginny said gently giving him a kind smile.

Scorpius looked at Lily's face to see if it was okay. Lily looked back at him blankly, her mind racing. This did not seem like a good idea.

This did not seem like a good idea at all.

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/12973166/100/

[bumbershots]

A CERTAIN ROMANCE

CHAPTER THREE: WHO ARE YOU?

Author’s note: Hello! Once more I would like to thank you all for the love this story’s been getting, it truly blows my mind. I am also looking for a beta reader so if anyone out there is interested let me know! (: Let’s pick up right where we left off...

Story masterlist ** Word count: 2.3K **

Two souls don't find each other by simple accident, Harry thought after taking a seat for the first time that night, his feet were probably going to be swollen tomorrow, they were killing him already. But he wasn't keen on turning down a dance from the girl collapsing in the settee right next to him. A slow Amy Winehouse song was their cue to rest.

"Do you want a beer?" Her voice sounded a bit hoarse, probably from all the giggling and singing she did while dancing the night away.

"Yes please."

He watched her trot to the small bar on the other side of the flat, focused on how the multiple bracelets bounced in her left wrist as she instructed her brother which beer to give her. As she came back to take her previous seat, he felt a small wave of anxiety for wanting nothing more than to start a conversation with her, as she handed him the beer. Usually it was the other way around, but in most of the cases, people wanted to know his persona.

He knew the silence was becoming awkward, but he was still debating whether to ask about her upbringing or what she did for work, whatever the case was, he didn't want to make a fool out of himself, he almost never seemed to be that lucky.

"You're not used to people being calm around you, are you?" Alma’s frown os curiosity is a mirror to the one on the musician's face.

"Yes and no?" Harry's coy tone makes her smile warmly and shake her head in denial, "so, I'm Hampstead station guy?" Her eyes widen, a shy smile appears on her full lips before she takes another large sip of her drink.

"It's unlikely to find the same person thrice in the tube! I told my friend Laura, it felt like a glitch in the matrix." She answers and he lets out an amused laugh.

"For the record, I wasn't following you, at all..."

"I know, you just had to take the same line I did and it was a happy coincidence," she interrupts him, the new song gathers a few more dancers and Harry wonders if she will ask him to dance again, "although it would've made a great anecdote for my YouTube channel; story time, a famous musician follows me around the city possibly plotting my painful death." She joked as she gingerly flashed her hands before the two of them, as if presenting the latest play from the West End.

It was Harry's eyes turn to be wide and smack his hand into his forehead.

"You have a YouTube channel?" His interest was genuine and Alma made herself more comfortable on the sofa, before proceeding to fill him in about what that was about, just videos about her 'sort of interviewing remarkable people' or so she claimed.

It was something that started as a class project back when she was seventeen, trying to get good grades to win a scholarship and study abroad —none of those things happened. She kept doing it afterwards because it was too much fun, once she interviewed all her friends, she moved onto her family. "Believe me when I tell you, that I have more relatives than I should!" With a smile as big as hers, he sighed before breathing 'lucky' as his heart sped and she continued.

Restaurant owners, chefs, firefighters, barristers, doctors, accountants, waitresses, sexual workers, sex shop employees, bankers, homeless people, hairdressers and apparently every person from her home country had been on the informal interview series. Harry was impressed with the whole concept and her.

"I sort of abandoned it a little when I moved here last year, it was crazy busy the first couple of months and the whole bureaucracy... and I was a little homesick to be honest." For the first time in the night, her voice is thinner, he has to lean in a few inches to hear better, "I miss my parents, my cousins, my aunt, my grandparents. But this is something I've wanted for the longest time you know?" Her eyes bore into his, allowing him to see the vulnerability swimming in them, "I've never felt like an outsider here, never got lost in the tube, took the wrong bus or anything like that. Isn't it weird?" Harry smiled at the sentiment, thoughts of his latest trip to Japan flashing before him.

"No, I think it's marvellous that you feel that way." He cannot be real, is the only thing running through her mind like a restless hamster in its wheel.

Harry and Alma talked about everything they didn’t have in common, despite the brief interruptions to do some shots and drink champagne with the birthday boy. Their families were discussed, their favourite things to do in the summer. Alma even asked him how was work going, as if she didn’t know that he was one of th world’s most successful artists. Harry was thrilled to joke through their drinks and the girl wasn't shy to ask him for a couple more dances. None of them noticed the partying dying around them, it was only after Fernando said his goodbyes to his laughing sister, that they noticed how late/early it actually was.

Before they knew it, golden hues streamed through the window behind them as Freddie walked out of his room and offered them coffee.

"I'm never drinking straight vodka again," Freddie mumbled to himself after finishing his cup of coffee.

"At least it wasn't Vodquila like last time," Alma's words make him groan but agree. "I should go now, need a shower and a healthy breakfast."

After Harry also admitted he needed to be on his way, with all their belongings gathered and after saying goodbye to a very ill Freddie, neither Harry or Alma looked forward to their imminent separation. He had spent hours hearing how busy she is, when not recording content, she was working at Wenzel's and teaching Spanish to her neighbour's daughter on the weekends. Still, he was determined to meet with her again.

As soon as they started moving down the street, Harry noticed the next one was where he had to turn right in order to go home. It wasn't a short walk but the most effective route for sure.

"So, the bus stop is that way," Alma nodded her head to the left, smirking knowingly as she stuffs her hands in her coat pockets.

"Of course," they had come to a rolling stop at the corner. Harry suddenly felt beyond nervous about asking the girl for her phone number. "Thank you, for keeping me company last night." It was amazing he wanted to add, but licked his lips quickly instead.

"You mean keeping you from catching up with all your friends," she corrected him.

Harry shakes his head and smiles, the dimples graciously adorning his cheeks, his racing heart giving him the last push needed to finally ask. "Do you think we could go, like for coffee... sometime?” With that she laughed, immediately memorising the sound of it, her loud cackle is one of the nicest things he has heard in awhile.

"Only if I can buy you something from the selection of pastries." Harry laughed loudly, completely relieved by her answer. She dug around her purse for a moment before taking out a pen and what seemed to be an old receipt, quickly scribbling down her number and handing it to him.

"I'll call you," he beamed, carefully placing the piece of paper in his wallet. He'd be an idiot to lose such a precious fragment of information.

"Looking forward to it," Alma smiled at him for one last time before she started walking to the opposite direction. "See you around Harry." His face was a bit puffy from not having slept properly, but she would be lying to say he didn’t look adorable at the same time.

He waved and watched her walked away, her sweet and tired morning smile seemed to be engraved into the musician's mind as he headed home.

The air was still a bit cold, but the heat was starting to rise and plague London for the rest of the day, the hot summer everyone's been yearning for was finally here, even Harry could feel it in his bones as he continued down his path. He was still highly enamoured by the amazing night he spent sharing a piece of himself with Alma. His feet felt heavy, were even burning a little, but it was nothing as he made his way through his home gate twenty minutes later.

He decided to get some toast and a cuppa for breakfast, his high spirits not faltering even one bit although he could feel the consequences from the all-nighter already with each yawn. After eating he decided to take a shower that got him ready for a well deserved sleep in his comfortable bed.

Waking up around six o'clock startles him at first, Harry is well rested now but a bit grumpy for the weird taste on his tongue, something usual after drinking beer. He scolds himself for not brushing his teeth earlier as he walks in his bathroom. The cool tiles against his bare feet wake him up a bit more. After some needed dental hygiene, Harry gets dressed to go out and pick up his sister for their weekly dinner. Hopefully he can convince her to stay in, that way he can go on and on about the events from the night before.

His feet still hurt, he can even feel a blister underneath his big toe. But it doesn't bother him, it's actually a nice reminder of the incredible things that miraculously happened. Harry knew that since Alma was related to Fernando, someone that was bound to be in his life for the next six months or so, there was a big chance they would've met at some point. But he'd rather think it was fate, some sort of good karma coming round, he stared at her contact on his phone, still charmed by the fact that she gave it to him on the back of a receipt. Ignoring that she only did it that way, because the thought of asking for his mobile to enter it herself, was a very bold move. And Alma wasn’t really that confident, not when his green eyes were boring into hers anyway.

"When are you gonna call her then?" Gemma's voice snaps him out of his daydream for the third time during their quiet dinner in her flat. "What is it? You've got that look."

"What look?" He asks before his sister frowns and pinches her bottom lip with her thumb and index finger. It's his nervous quirk, he sighs, "I don't know, I'm just so nervous." Without a valid reason, he knows the girl is so lovely, maybe that's why.

"You're afraid of fucking it up," she knows, Harry nods. "Well, you could tell her that, perhaps on a text—

"—I want to call her, texting her will make me feel a wanker." Gemma smiles at her little brother, he looked uncharacteristically unsure of himself but nonetheless excited. It was endearing how the first thing he told her after crossing her home's threshold was 'my life is officially a chick flick!' Before proceeding to explain with detail about the whole situation.

"What about a text that reads: hello, this is Harry please save my number so when I find the guts to call you, you don't think it's a telemarketing scam," Gemma might be joking and mocking him all at once, but has a point. A text so she also has his number, makes the situation more even, she can call him too. "Assuming she gave you a real phone number."

"What?" Harry is mortified.

"I'm kidding, you should've seen your face," his sister wanted to drag a bit more her joke, but the preoccupied look on his face stopped her. Gemma couldn't wait to tell their mum, knowing that she would be just as absorbed. "There's nothing wrong with showing interest right away. If you want this to be honest and genuine, set an example." She finished before taking the last bite of pizza.

Harry knew that to be true, but now he was left wondering if it was the right time for him. Had he really left behind all the ghosts and baggage from his past? Or was he still carrying them in the new tattoos of his knees?

Despite his sister's encouraging words about how nothing could go wrong this early with Alma, he couldn't help but wonder if his still grieving heart was ready.

He takes his time walking back home, not caring if it was a really long one, he was aware of the curious eyes once he reached the Southbank but paid no attention to them. He welcomed the chill breeze, hoping for it to cool his boiling mind. Remembering the last time he walked along the river arms around his former flame, her laughter still ringing in his ears, her tender kisses in his knuckles, her delicious scent flying away with the airstream into London's sunshine.

Missing someone is not wrong, Harry reminds himself.

There's no point going down the rabbit hole of what ifs about their relationship. Harry can admit his mistakes, no matter how hard it comes to him, he can also apologise wholeheartedly. He did all those things already, months ago. Which is why he was able to keep her as a friend, not a close one, more like an acquaintance. And she's happy, he can see that, knows it.

Why does he feel like he's still drowning? He's already been pulled from the vast ocean of hers. Harry groans, struggles to open his gate, his good spirits from this morning nowhere to be found.

He doesn't know if it's the memory of her, the fear of loneliness, coincidence and laziness, or a bad habit? But he doesn't text the girl with warm brown eyes, instead he plays the voicemail that sometimes haunts his nightmares, on repeat, for the rest of the night.

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