Joseph,
This is not a love letter, but this is quite madrama. I just want to say how grateful I am to have met you. I know I am an ass to you lately, and I will be one for the rest of our lifetime.
I am so used to being alone, I am not sure what I am feeling right now. All I know is that I am calm when you are around. I don't need to pretend or force things when I am with you. Everything feels natural and candid. I like talking to you, I enjoy talking to you. You have interesting stories that makes me want to listen to you. You are the goofiest person that I met, I like that about you. You are shy and sometimes you stutter when talking to me, I think that’s weirdly cute. You have the softest hands I ever held.
Thank you so much for keeping up with me, I know I did something great in the past because I am surrounded by people like you. Thank you for showering me with affection, attention, kindness, and love. I never had someone I can call mine til you came into my life.
I do not know what the future holds for us, let’s enjoy the here and now. Let me end this with an excerpt from my favorite book; Love, Stargirl:
You be you and I'll be me, today and today and today, and let's trust the future to tomorrow. Let the stars keep track of us.
Thank you,
Jane.
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This is not the anniversary fic I'd wanted to write but it's the one that happened ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Rating: T
Pairing: TK/Carlos
Word Count: 1800
TK catches Tommy’s eye beyond them, she blows him a kiss and he puts his hand over his heart, thanking her with a nod. Carlos hasn’t moved next to him, his elbow is still leaned on TK’s knee and his fingers are still wrapped possessively around TK’s ankle. TK sniffs and wipes some moisture off his own cheek and then turns to him – to his husband – and tries to smile when Carlos’s tear-streaked face turns back at him.
“Hey, baby,” TK whispers, soft enough that were they a few inches further apart Carlos might not be able to hear him. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to make you cry.”
Carlos’s lips curve into a small responding smile and he shakes his head. “It’s okay.”
He tilts his chin forward, asking for a kiss, that TK gives him readily because he thinks it would hurt like having a limb ripped off if he didn’t. Carlos’s lips are smooth and damp against his, wet with the salt from his tears.
“Wanna go for a walk?” TK asks when they part, and Carlos quickly nods. TK knows him so well. He knows how much Carlos is squirming inside at the idea of sitting here surrounded by people while vulnerability is spilling out of him uncontrolled like water through a crack in a levy. He’d been so proud earlier that he wondered if he might be glowing when Carlos had teared up during his vows and admitted to a crowd how scared he’s been for so much of his life. TK knew that already, but Carlos is loath to confess to having soft places in anyone else’s company. It was more than enough of being uncovered like that for one day, TK thinks, so he needs to rescue his husband from any further exposure.
He stands, and Carlos stands with him. Next to them Andrea smiles as Carlos lifts his arm and TK tucks himself safely underneath it, wrapping his own around Carlos’s waist so they can press together as they maneuver around chairs and guests and escape out the back of the venue. He’s sure they’re being watched so he steps with purpose, guiding Carlos away from prying eyes.
Read the rest on AO3
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may prompt: secret relationship
@wolfstarmicrofic – words: 951
warning: suicidal thoughts/sacrifice yourself
... this is sad, guys
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“She was looking at you,” Sirius says first thing when Remus enters the room.
He is giving his back, folding and unfolding a shirt that has something against being unwrinkled. His hand stretches the material, fingers swiping the wrinkles away and yet, like the fucking itch of unwanted jealousy Sirius is feeling curled in his stomach, it does not cooperate. Why is he doing his laundry when Kreacher is there to lick his boots?
The door is softly closed and shoes are taken off.
“Was she?”
Sirius throws away the shirt exasperated, angry and turns, “Do not fucking play dumb, Remus!” in a burst of all the ugly thoughts haunting him throughout the day since the scene of the meeting. It won't stop replaying in his head.
Remus’ smile and Nymphadora's blush and how old Sirius felt with his sunk eyes and lost beauty.
After that, he went to his mother's room, rummaging in her vanity set for anything that would have helped give him what was once his. Sirius had been the light of the party. He had been flirted with, flattered and had charmed anyone with a look, or a grin and never cared for any of it because he had Remus in his heart.
But now? What does he have for himself?
He can't join the fight. Back in prison, now with just more rooms to roam around and run from his mistakes during sleepless nights of nightmares. He can't even maintain Remus’ eyes on himself because broken.
“… Sirius–”
“Do not use that fucking voice with me”
He sounds like his mother screaming at Orion. Between them, silence or Walburga demanding more of Father as she had done with all of them, her included. And in this house, his new cage, it's difficult to stop sinking in old memories and old fears.
He wants to apologise, reassuring he does not want to sound like Mother. Sirius has never wanted in his life to be like her.
He has always lost that fight.
“I want you to tell her. I want you to tell everyone, I'm tired of hiding.”
Remus quirks an eyebrow, the question loud between them; is Sirius still talking about their secret relationship?
“They won't kick you out of the Order if you tell them what we are,” Sirius continues, ignoring Remus’ little sigh, the drop of his shoulders because they both know it was coming. The signs were all there and no one else except Remus knew how to handle him. Not anymore, at least. All gone, leaving him behind. “They are your friends”
“They are your friends too.” Remus makes his way towards him, jacket wet from the rain outside and Sirius studies it as, just with his mind, he will feel the cold spring rain on his own skin.
Sirius cannot remember the last time he was outside. Even as Padfoot it could be dangerous because Peter… Peter could…
“No. I didn't rot for twelve years thought to have killed James and Lily to call those people my friends. All my friends are fucking dead!”
And so should I! is not said, but it is there between Sirius’ ribs and the need to point his finger at Remus for thinking him capable of wanting to hurt Lily and Harry, betraying James.
It's unfair. It was war, no one trusted no one; except Sirius did trust someone, didn't he? And everything had ended because of that.
Sirius, deep down, is aware that blaming Remus is not the way, but he spent the last twelve years replaying his errors, going through what he could have done to change them… spent those years blaming himself and now it's someone else's turn because he is so tired.
The pressure of his guilt has been clawing his heart for too long. What will Effie say when Sirius is going to meet her in his death?
It is a question that does not let him breathe. Night after night, her cries… He promised his ma he would take care of their James. How could she forgive Sirius after Godric's Hollow?
“Tonks looks at you,” Sirius mutters, hands brushing his hair away from his face and it does not help calm himself down.
She is younger. Full of life and less haunted than him. She can go wherever she wants and is so similar to a younger Sirius.
‘You must have noticed,’ he wants to accuse Remus. ‘You must or you would have not given her the time of day. Am I not enough?'
“And not making clear you are not interested does not help”
Tonks, she likes to be called. A change of name, a rewriting of fate just like Sirius who had hated his to the core– Effie would call them ‘Potters!’ for a meal or a family meeting and he had been included. A Potter. Not officially, neither of blood but in spirit, it had been enough.
Sirius wants to be enough; to have died saving his family like he had planned, bringing as many Death Eaters as he could six feet under with him. To be back in their old London apartment he got from Uncle Al, just the two of them. Remus and Sirius, on their sofa and Sirius stealing sips from Remus’ tea cup.
He wants Remus to touch and love him as they did when younger and less drained by life but when Remus tries to do that same thing, Sirius snarls and dodges to flee.
“Where are you going? Are you not coming to bed?”
The thought of lying down makes him itchy.
“We both know I won't sleep. Tonight, I don't have it in me to fake it for you”
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np tag: @vlaflipvla (bc you were excited about it) @myriadparacosm
bc last time you said i didn't include you so now i did :))
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