#the movie started strong than it became steadily worse as it went on

[mikimeiko]

Three Thousand Years of Longing | Directed by Frank Miller (2022)

#three thousand years of longing #i'm very sad because this movie failed to live up to its potential so hard #i learned about from tumblr i went to watch the trailer the trailer was AMAZING #the movie started strong than it became steadily worse as it went on #for a bit while the djinn was telling his stories kind of felt like the fall #but then i don't know #the story got less interesting #the visuals got less interesting #there were title cards for some sections but not others? #i don't know i had high hopes and i'm now very disappointed #also sorry about the first gif but i just loved that transition XD #films i watched in 2022 #i made this #i just want a tag for the things i personally put out into the world

[dearmantis]

Blood on your hands

Pairing: Pietro x Reader

Summary: Westview was your home, but the nightmares you have every night tell a different story. When hallucinations start to take over your day to day life a around the same time Wanda introduced you to her brother Pietro, one of your best friends tries to help. 

Help herself, not you. 

! Part two of Old wounds ripped open, can be read on it’s own though ! 

Warnings: spoilers for episode 7 of WandaVision(?), mentions of death and blood, angst, nightmares, a bit of survivors guilt, horror (if you squint a bit), hallucinations, some weird/ creepy stuff involving a corpse (not Vision and not sexual, it’s just weird and a bit sad)

Word Count: 3.2k

Author's Note: Blood on your hands is less focused on Pietro and instead centered more around the Reader and their experiences after the events of Old wounds ripped open. It does involve Pietro again though, don't worry.

Also, some parts of this seemingly got mixed up for some reason so if some passages make no sense and feel out of place that's why. I've been trying to fit it but I mightve overlooked some parts so please tell me!

You had weird dreams since your first day in Westview, your head filled with blurry scenes, blues and whites bleeding into each other as calm voices spoke to you, warm hands caressing your skin, creating scenarios that made no sense but felt familiar enough, like they had had happened once, in a world, a life, vastly different from the one you lived in now.

It would’ve been quite beautiful if they weren’t accompanied by a deep feeling of melancholy, sadness seeping into your body and clinging onto your bones every night, the pictures becoming clearer and the feelings stronger with every passing day. 

The night a day before you met Pietro, Wanda's twin brother you don’t remember ever hearing about even though you had been best friends with Wanda since you were 4, the dreams changed.

Suddenly, the sorrow and heartache transformed into fear, cold sweat clinging on your skin every time the panic got strong enough to rip you out of your sleep and you woke up, drenched and shaking.

There was no comfort in the emotions that overtook you during those dreams, no warmth in the sorrow that seemed to fill you up like water, drowning out everything else.

Just this overwhelming sense of terror and grief, slowly choking the air out of your lungs and turning your muscles weak.

You thought about talking with Wanda about what you saw and heard in your dreams, about the gunshots, the screams, the blood, but something held you back. As soon as the idea came up in your mind you knew that this was not an option, no questions, no but’s.

You just knew.

However, as the days went on, the dreams became worse.

People turning to dust, Wanda crying and screaming, a man dying, burns all over his body, a stone being ripped out of the forehead of a strange man, his body falling dead on the ground… and a man with white hair being shot and killed.

All you were able to do was watch, unable to prevent what was happening.

In those dreams you could heal, your hands glowing in a warm golden light, heat burning in your fingertips, but no matter what you did, people continued to turn into dust, the burns stayed, the stone was still gone and you were always too far away to save the man, distancing yourself further every second no matter how hard you fought to get closer to him.

You felt useless, helpless, undeserving. 

The fear of Wanda finding out about your nightmares grew steadily with every dream, the outside signs of your sleepless nights becoming more and more obvious, but no matter what tricks and tips you tried, not a single night was slept through calmly.

It didn’t help that the scenarios all held the same familiar feeling the ones before the meeting with Pietro did. Melancholy and pain now ruling hand in hand over what was once supposed to help you relax and restore your energy for the next day.

You started hallucinating after 2 days. Vision was always gone or with Wanda and something about Pietro's company made you feel uncomfortable, so you started to spend your time more by yourself, now really regretting that you didn’t get a dog when the idea first came up.

It began with randomly seeing people on the street turning to dust.

The first time it happened you felt like you were going to turn to dust as well, your heartbeat loudly hammering in your ears as you ran out of the house screaming, trying to help and save your poor neighbors from certain doom. It happened two more times before you realized that your mind was playing tricks on you,, too exhausted to work like it was supposed to.

Halloween night was the worst.

Knowing that you wouldn’t be able to actually rest, you decided to spend the night on the couch, watching any kids show or movie you could find, until you slipped back into unconsciousness at around 11 pm during a scooby doo marathon.

Wanda had invited you to come along with her, the twins and the boys since both Vision and Agnes would be busy that day but you refused, claiming that you felt sick and wanted to spend the night in your bed sleeping and watching TV. The young mother had looked you up and down, pity in her watchful eyes, before she took your hand, squeezed it, and told you to call in case anything happened and you needed help. You had nodded, thanking Wanda and promising her to come over as soon as you felt better.

The reason why Halloween was the worst was because the dream you had was different once again, this time for seemingly no reason at all.

Wanda was currently being dragged away from a body, the body of the man you had seen before in previous dreams. The one who got shot while you were in the air, unable to get closer to him no matter how hard you tried. Her hysterical screaming was the only thing you could hear, sokovian insults directed towards those dragging her away, someone named Ultron, and you.

You were on what you recognized to be a helicarrier, even though you don’t remember ever having seen one or heard of one, the word unfamiliar and familiar at the same time.

Wanda stared at you as you slowly approached the body, still being held back but now silent like everyone else around you, all of their eyes focused on you and you alone.

An empty feeling had started to fill your mind since the helicopter had landed, not a single emotion or thought racing through your head when you lifted your hands, a warm golden glow engulfing them, and placed them on the man's chest.

The wounds healed, golden threads filling the wounds before turning into normal human tissue, but his heart stayed still, no matter what you did.

“This is your fault too. You promised you would be there! You promised you would keep him safe, you disgusting liar. I tried to defend you so many times but HYDRA and Ultron were right. You’re useless.”, Wanda uttered, her eyes wild and glowing in a deep shade of red, her hands called to fists.

Your powers got stronger and stronger, now able to rebuild entire missing limbs like you had done just a few minutes ago to save an old man instead of only healing small cuts like during your first weeks with HYDRA, but death was still irreversible to you.

A part of you simply accepting what she had said as the truth.

You should’ve been there. You directly disobeyed orders. This is your fault too. There was no denying of these simple facts.

Another part of you however, the part of you that was trained by Hydra and followed Ultron, filled with toxic thoughts and jealousy because Wanda was stronger than you, got more attention than you, was more important than you overall, saw a chance to strike.

“You knew that he was still getting used to his powers, Wanda. And you knew that he was already getting exhausted, making him slower. It was your job to protect him too. After all, you’re the one who can rip through those robots like nothing. I’m just a useless healer.”

Both of you would regret these words years later, Wanda sitting in her room only two months later, hysterically sobbing and shaking like a leaf, none of the other Avengers being able to do anything other than calling you, begging you to take a break from helping with the rebuilding of Sokovia because something was wrong with Wanda and no one knew what to do. When you arrived you laid in each other's arms, trying to calm each other down, talking about how much you missed each other and what happened during and after Pietro's death.

Oh, something was definitely wrong.

A loud knocking on your door was what ripped you out of your sleep, quickly jogging to it, thinking it must be Wanda trying to check on you. Instead, Agnes was standing in front of you, a sweet smile on her lips.

How Wanda saw his dead body everywhere, and how you couldn’t touch wet things anymore or wash your hands with cold water because it kept reminding you of his blood soaked shirt and the way your hands were covered in his cold blood, the red liquid dripping from them until it dried to a dark brown layer.

“Hey Y/N,”, she greeted, moving past you to get into your house. “Wanda told me about you feeling a bit sick so I came over to check on you. You’re my friend too, afterall. I wanna make sure you’re doing alright.”

Slowly your eyes moved down, landing on your hands. 

Agnes was already waiting for you in the kitchen, preparing two cups of tea like this was her house, shooing you back into the living room while loudly talking about how important it was for her to take care of her close friends. You were about to sit back down on the couch when you finally heard it.

Dripping. Something was dripping.

Red.

Turning, your eyes followed the path you had walked as well as you could, moving from the couch, small red drops leading to the door with its now blood covered doorknob, to the kitchen, and then back to the couch.

You silently watched her from the door, your mind still half stuck in the dream you had, trying to understand what was happening when the door slipped out of your grasp, closing on its own. 

“Oh Y/N, I didn’t send you into the living room for you to just stand here and stare into nothingness. Sit down, sweetheart. The tea is nearly done, just give it another minute.”, Agnes suddenly said, setting two cups and a small bowl down on the living room table before pushing you down onto the couch and turning the sound of the TV lower.  She quickly sat down next to you, covering you and herself with the blanket that had fallen to the floor while you had slept. 

“So, darling, tell me about how you’re feeling. Wanda seemed awfully worried about you. She kept babbling about not knowing what was wrong with you, a true sweetheart, isn’t she?”, Agnes laughed, patting your knee before carefully pulling the tea bags out of the cups.

You knew it had to be a hallucination, the man's blood on your hands coming out of the dream you had, just like the people turning to dust, but it looked so real, the feeling eerily familiar to you.

With a big grin on her lips, she gave you one of them, taking a big sip of it while watching you do the same thing from your own cup. 

You were nearly finished with your tea when you noticed that you hadn’t told Agnes or Wanda about what was wrong with you. the cup covered in blood when you sat it down, the liquid on your hands seemingly unending and refusing to dry like it had in your dream.

For a while you sat there, together, watching scoobie doo while drinking tea, talking about the boring ads or about your time in Westview. 

“Agnes, why aren’t you with Wanda and the twins right now?”, you asked, your voice not louder than a whisper, somehow aware that asking about her knowledge about the nightmares wouldn’t end well for you. 

“Like I told you, I wanted to make sure you’re alright and don’t feel too lonely. Now finish your cup of tea so I can leave knowing that you’ll sleep well tonight. I even put out a big bowl of candy on your porch to make sure no one will ring the door to wake you up tonight.”

If that was all it took for her to go, you would obey, you thought to yourself, downing the rest of the bitter tasting tea in one go before standing up.

With every passing second, Agnes company seemed to make you more and more unconfortable, her aura more dominant than usual. You needed her out of your house. Now. 

Agnes smiled at you, took the cups and stood up to go to the kitchen. “Not before I washed these, sweetheart. Then I’ll leave you alone to sleep. Wanda will be fine for another few minutes.”

“Come on, Agnes. I bet Wanda already misses you greatly. You should meet them before the twins go to bed.”, you exclaimed, lifting the blanket from her body and folding it.

A sigh escaped your lips as you walked to the door, suddenly stopping when your eyes jumped to the middle of the hallway.

You were frozen in place, unable to move even when Agnes came out of the kitchen.

She dried her hands with one of your towels before carelessly dropping it on the floor, grinning at you before leaving with the words “Have fun tonight, Y/N. I know you missed him so much.”

When the door fell into its lock, you dropped to your knees, hands shaking and legs weak like pudding.

Pietro.

Pietro, Pietro, Pietro, Pietro, Pietro Pietro.

Here.

On your floor.

You didn’t know how long you sat on the floor, staring at that body, just that you still hadn’t moved when the sun started to rise again, your eyes glued to the corpse while you tried to sort through your newly gained memories.

Dead.

Of course your immediate thought had been to blame Wanda. She was the only person you knew who had the power to take away memories and manipulate your thoughts and feelings and she had a motive.

She was your best friend. Your best friend since kindergarten and the only one who knew about your crush on her twin. Memories from inside Westview also came to mind, from when you woke up in Wanda's kitchen after she introduced you to Pietro for the first time, a day before the introduction you actually remember, your memory coming back after “Pietro” had introduced himself to you.

Wanda had tried to explain her decision to bring you to Westview. Reasoned that you were still so depressed and she just wanted you to feel happy, to get the fairy tale ending she thought you deserved, even if it had to be without Pietro.

Wanda, who probably controlled everyone in Westview, including Agnes who had just talked about missing a man while you stared at the hallucination of his corpse in your hallway. 

And she would never be cruel enough to you to give you the nightmares and hallucinations you had now. 

There was no way Wanda had possessed Agnes to do this to you. 

But she had also claimed not to know where the other “Pietro” came from.

As soon as the realization hit, you stumbled to your feet, the world turning as you ran out of your house, pushing past people as you tried to get to Wanda’s house as quickly as possible. She, Vision, the twins… everyone could be in danger.

This wasn’t Wanda. 

If a dead robot and two probably imagined or possessed kids can even be in danger...

You didn’t bother to knock, simply storming into the house, screaming for your best friend.

She immediately reached out to touch you, giving you another once over with her eyes.

“What is going on?”, she responded, a confused look on her face as she came out of the kitchen, panic visible in her eyes as soon as she saw you. “Why are you covered in blood? What happened last night?”

“It’s Pietro’s blood, not mine.”, you said quickly, like that explained anything.

“What blood? Hell, Y/N, you look like you died twice. And what’s this about Pietro’s blood? Do you mean that impos-”

Her eyes began to glow red and you knew she was searching through your mind, trying to make sense of your words.

“You knew it wouldn’t hold for long. Me and Pietro were never as affected by your powers as others were.”, you whispered, trying to answer the unasked question that was hovering in the room.

“Not that Pietro. I mean our Pietro. The one who died in Sokovia in 2015. The one I loved… love. The one I love. It’s his blood.”

“I didn’t give you the nightmares or the hallucinations. I didn’t do that. That wasn’t me. I made sure to keep them as far away from you as I could.”, Wanda insisted, probably more to calm herself down than to prove something to you since you also didn’t think of her as capable of that cruelty.

Her eyes lost their glow but she continued to watch you before quietly saying “Go upstairs. Vision is away and the Twins are with Agnes today. Sleep, I’ll make sure you won’t have nightmares. The hallucinations wont stop if you don’t sleep. You’ll keep seeing the blood on your hands and the corpse on the floor.”

You nodded, walking up the stairs like she had told you before entering the bedroom, only pausing for a second when you saw Pietro’s corpse laying on the right side of the bed before laying down next to it.

“I know Wanda, I know. But someone else did, and I want to find out who without being under the control of someone else. I can’t help when you do that. I can’t use my powers if I don’t remember that I have them.”

Slowly, you reached out to lay your hand on his chest, the glow of your powers only slightly dimmed by the blood. If you closed the wounds maybe you would be able to pretend this was simply a happy dream. A happy dream of a life you could’ve had if you had listened to Steve's orders to stay on the ground with Hawkeye to heal civilians, or if you had simply been less of a coward and told Pietro about your feelings before that last fatal battle.

Like seeing his dead body in your hallway and being covered in his blood wasn’t already traumatizing enough, your mind had to one-up itself once again.

If, if, if.

Always those stupid useless if’s.

You carefully covered the body of the now healed hallucinated corpse with the blanket before getting more comfortable yourself and closing your eyes.

You had completely forgotten to tell Wanda about your suspicions concerning Agnes.

#pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff fanfiction #pietro maximoff x y/n #wandavision #wandavision fanfic

[bensakindofmagic]

Chapter Eighteen

A/N: look at how fucking soft he is in this pic, i'm weeping, imagine opening facetime and seeing that face

Warnings: none, just fluff

w/c: 3.1k+

Chapter Eighteen 

Filming was tough. The light was sparse in Scotland at that time of year, so everything had to be ready to go the second the sun came up in order to maximise productivity. It was cold and windy, and often raining, and if it weren’t for a delightful cast and crew you would have been thoroughly miserable. You weren’t nearly so close with them as the Borhap boys, but they kept you in decent spirits. The real hardship, however, was being away from Ben. For as long as you’d known each other you hadn’t spent more than two days apart — even when you were barely on speaking terms you still saw him everyday. Your colleagues noticed how often you were on your phone during breaks (and you were sure there were some people who resented what they perceived to be anti-social behaviour), but it was because every time you looked Ben had sent you a dozen messages: pictures of Frankie, a link to a video that he thought you’d find funny, news articles that he thought would interest you, pictures he found on the internet, but more often than not just a message to say he missed you. You guessed that the separation was probably harder for Ben, given that he was the remaining party. You left for a new environment that he had never been in, and while you ached for him often, work kept you busy and there were plenty of people round to distract you. Ben was left with a hole where you used to be, an empty place on the sofa or at the table, and a sudden lack of company (though you noticed on social media that he was suddenly spending a lot more time meeting up with old friends, which made you happy). But at certain moments, like when you were standing in the pouring rain and shivering as the sunlight began to dwindle, you were desperate for him to wrap his strong arms around you and carry you to bed, where he would proceed to hold you tightly until all the chill had been chased from your bones. You felt a buzz in your pocket, somewhere in the great depths of your coat. It was a message from Ben asking when you were due to wrap for the day. 

Y/N: about 5.30pm. can’t wait to have a shower i’m freezing my bollocks off

Ben: You don’t have any bollocks 

Y/N: well not anymore obviously!! 

Ben: Facetime at 6?

Y/N: better make it 6.30, it’s going to take a while to warm me up

Ben: Wish I was there to help ;)

You were relieved when the director declared that there wasn’t enough light and you’d have to wrap it up for the day. Performing your duties as swiftly and efficiently as possible, you raced back to your hotel room and peeled off layers of clothing that had seemingly frozen onto your skin and jumped in the shower. You stood under the water for a long while, letting it hit your head and trickle down your body, warming you up little by little. You thought back to times when Ben would be in that shower with you, and your whole body would feel as thought it was on fire, though it had nothing to do with the scalding water. But the smile that adorned your face at the memory was melancholic, and soon you longed to be out of the shower and on your laptop to talk to him. You made a cup of tea, put on your fluffiest pyjamas, and sat down on the bed to call Ben just in time. His name popped up on your screen with a now familiar ringtone. 

“Hey, Benny!” you delighted as you saw his face on your screen, as close as he could feel in the present circumstances. 

“Hi gorgeous!” he smiled brightly and held Frankie up to the screen to wave hello with her little paw, “I’ve missed you.” 

“What, since we facetimed last night and texted two hours ago?”

“Yes. I’ve missed your cuddles.” 

You sighed, you’d missed his too. The long distance would have been okay if it weren’t for how much you ached to hold each other. Day-to-day, Ben expressed most of his affection through touch and you could see more and more how tough he was finding being denied that. 

“I was thinking about you in the shower today,” you mused. 

He smirked, “Is that so? What were you doing while you were thinking about me?”

You rolled your eyes and laughed, “That’s not really what I meant,” — though the question was certainly warranted, Ben didn’t need to know the answer just yet — “I was thinking about how much I miss you holding me. Not to get too soppy or anything.”

“Well you know how soppy I am, love,” he assured. That made you smile. 

“I just miss touching you — not in a sexy way! Although that too — it’s the feel of you, you know?” 

He nodded, reassuring you that he knew exactly what you meant. It hadn’t even been a month and you were both struggling more than you cared to admit. You’d missed your first Valentine’s Day together, and even though Ben had sent you flowers and you’d had a long and eventful video chat, part of you felt like you were missing out. You’d spent much of the early part of your relationship hiding it from those around you, and though you had those three precious weeks to be unashamedly in love, you now felt bitterly as though you would miss the best part of the honeymoon phase. 

“So tell me about your day, love.” 

You related all the gossip that the day had brought, jokes shared with your colleagues, how someone had to go running off through the highlands chasing a false beard that had been torn off by the wind. He laughed in all the right places and asked all the right questions. He, in turn, told you that he’d gone to the gym (which he’d been doing more often since you’d been gone), and met with a director for lunch to talk over a possible job. He was excited about it: you could see how much he wanted it, despite trying to convince you (as much as himself) that it was early days and he wasn’t getting his hopes up. He remarked how’d he’d sneezed five times in a row which he was sure was some kind of record — you laughed but noticed how he looked a little paler than usual and how he kept sniffing, and predicted that he was about to get a cold.

You accepted the call to receive an image of Ben wrapped in a duvet cocoon with a steaming mug in hand and tissues strewn about the place. 

“How’re you doing, darling?” you cooed. 

“I’m sick.” His nose, red and sore, was clearly blocked. He was pale and clammy, and his hair, damp with sweat, hung limply over his forehead.��

“Mm, I can see that.”

“See? I told you I couldn’t cope without you!” he whined. 

“It’s just a cold, Benny, you’ll live. Just drink lots of fluids and get plenty of sleep, okay?”

He frowned, looking remarkably like a toddler who’d just been denied an ice cream, “I was looking for sympathy, not instructions.”

You laughed and soothed him as best you could. As much as you opted for the ‘tough love’ approach, you wished you could be there to make him cups of hot water with honey and lemon, and bring him a new box of tissues when he finished the last one, and cuddle on the sofa with him watching old Disney movies. You wanted to stroke his hair and tuck him into bed. 

Apparently he wanted the same because after chatting for a little while, when his eyelids started to droop and his head got heavy, he quietly asked, “Will you sing for me?”

“Sing? What do you want me to sing for?” 

He shrugged, an embarrassed smile lacing his lips, “I’ve missed it. You sing all the time when you’re here, the place feels empty without it. I’ve been playing music a lot but it’s not the same.”

You chuckled, and went quiet. You allowed the silence to seep into your soul, to expand inside you and push all the noise for your mind. In its place a melody began softly and it danced off your lips.

‘Looking out on the morning rain, I used to feel uninspired, 

And when I knew I’d have to face another day, Lord it made me feel so tired.

Before the day I met you, life was so unkind.

Your love was the key to my peace of mind.’

The tiredness abated from Ben’s face, instantly soothed. Frown lines evaporated and his skin was left velvety smooth. His eyes fluttered closed, calmed. Even in the slightly pixellated image of him on your computer screen you could see how he ached for you, and how your voice helped to soothe that pain.

‘When my soul was in the lost-and-found, you came along to claim it.

I didn't know just what was wrong with me till your kiss helped me name it.

Now I'm no longer doubtful of what I'm living for, 

’Cause if I make you happy I don't need to do more.’

It seemed the more Ben was dulcified, the more your own agony grew. The softness of him was intoxicating, and it exposed how much he needed you. Guilt flared in you at not being there to look after him, and your own selfish desire to be near him added a sharp longing to your cocktail of grief.

‘Oh, baby, what you've done to me,

You make me feel so good inside.

And I just want to be close to you,

You make me feel so alive.’

His head got heavy, his shoulders relaxed as he leaned back on the sofa, and slowly you saw sleep settling weightily over his features. You indulged yourself by watching him for a few moments, chest rising and falling steadily as he began to snore, but soon the pang in your chest became too intense to bear. You whispered, “I love you,” into the boundless space between you before ending the call and quickly opening a new window on your laptop. 

———

Ben had been feeling particularly sorry for himself. He never coped very well when he was ill (being a frequent sufferer of man flu), but this was worse than usual. For starters, he didn’t get sick very often anymore so when he did it felt all the worse, and he hadn’t been this unwell in a while, and to top it all off, Y/N wasn’t there to look after him. Every morning he’d wake up in an empty bed, hardly able to breathe and feeling like his whole face had been plugged up. He’d drag himself to the kitchen, cocooned in his duvet, get himself some hot water and a piece of toast because that was all he could bring himself to make, before collapsing on the sofa, drifting in and out of sleep, some crappy movie on in the background, and ordering food when he couldn’t be bothered to get it himself. He was pretty sure that you would have been horrified had you seen the state of him — he didn’t like to look in the mirror because it frightened him how much he looked like a ghost of himself — but really he just wanted you there to look after him. He kept finding himself daydreaming about you, whispering soothing words to him as he slept, holding him close against your body. Sometimes he got so lost in his imagination that he could almost feel the touch of you, and for a moment convinced himself that you were there, that you would sit down next to him any second with two cups of tea and some sassy remark. To be honest, he had been like that most of the time you’d been away; he had felt the void of you more acutely than he had anticipated. But this constant state of semi-waking delirium had amplified it. So when he heard a knock at the door, thinking that he must have ordered take-away and forgotten but opened it to find you there with an armful of groceries and a grin, he assumed he was dreaming. 

He sighed melancholically, “Y/N.” 

“Oh Benny, are you okay?” 

Your tone didn’t seem right. You never sounded worried in his imagination, only gentle and calm. His heart started to beat faster. 

In a voice that sounded far away, like he was underwater, he heard you say, “Darling, let’s get you into bed. You don’t look good.”

“Wait, you’re really here?”

“Of course I’m here,” you said, ushering yourself inside and laying your things down before placing your palm against his forehead. He closed his eyes, falling gratefully into your touch. Your hand felt cool against his burning skin, and he almost collapsed with relief to have you beside him again. He could see you were worried, your movements suddenly infected with a slightly frenetic urgency, but all he felt was elation. He let you shepherd him into bed without resistance, and drank eagerly from the glass of chilled water you placed in his hands. 

You tucked him under the covers, and knelt beside the bed, stroking your fingers with the most delicate touch over his cheek. It made him shiver. His eyelids slipped closed and he felt the heaviness of the past few days evaporate into weightlessness. In those few hazy moments before sleep overtook him, still sceptical of the veracity of his own senses, he mumbled, “Will you still be here when I wake up?”

You smiled tenderly, “Of course I will, love. I’m going to look after you,”

You knew Ben was pretty unwell but hadn’t anticipated quite the extent of it. He seemed to be delirious, and the glassy look in his eyes made you wonder if he ever knew you were there. He was burning up when you tested his temperature, so you got him some water and sent him to bed. It broke your heart a little to shut him off in the bedroom as soon as you had reunited with him after missing him so deeply, but it broke your heart more to see him so sick, reduced to a shadow of himself. You kept yourself busy while he slept, walking Frankie, cleaning the apartment which had unsurprisingly fallen into a state of neglect, and getting a stew on to be ready by the time he woke. Your mind wandered back to him often, the thought of him curled up under the covers like a child. It took all your strength not to climb in next to him and cuddle him until he felt better. But you knew that would do nothing for his fever. 

He woke up a few hours later and trudged back into the kitchen where you were sat quietly entertaining yourself on your phone. He’d thrown a hoodie on, pulled up over his head with his hands stuffed in his pockets. 

“Hi gorgeous,” you beamed, standing to meet him. He looked better already; his eyes were less puffy and some of the colour was returning to his face. 

“Hey,” he said hoarsely, “I wasn’t sure you’d be here when I woke up. I thought I’d dreamt you.” 

You opened your arms and he shuffled gratefully into them, letting his head fall against your shoulder. He exhaled, relaxed, while your fingertips trailed gently across the back of his neck. 

“I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere until you’re better.” 

He pulled back to meet your eyes, searching them for the truth, “Really? Won’t you have to go back soon?”

“They’ll just have to cope without me, because clearly you can’t.”

He shook his head before burying it in your neck again. 

“Come on, I’ve made dinner.” 

Ben ate hungrily, glad of a proper, hearty meal. You sat at the table for hours, surreptitiously filling up Ben’s glass to make sure he was drinking plenty of water, revelling in being in each other’s company again. It was bittersweet. Despite your assurance that you’d stay as long as he needed, you both knew that come Monday — Tuesday at the latest — you’d have to head back to Scotland. But for the moment you talked and laughed, and nursed Ben back to health. You decided to go back to your own apartment overnight to make sure Ben got a good night’s rest, as well as reduce the risk of you getting his cold. He made you promise him that you’d come back first thing in the morning, which of course you readily did. And when you did return, already making breakfast by the time Ben surfaced, he was looking healthier still. 

“‘Morning cherub,” you cooed. “How’re you feeling today?” 

“All the better for seeing you,” he smiled and hugged you from behind. You kissed his cheek and he detached himself, allowing you to hand him a hot mug of honey and lemon. 

By the end of the weekend Ben was almost completely better. He had even managed to go out for a walk with you and Frankie. He could speak properly again, without his ‘m’s turning into ‘b’s, and his spirits where infinitely raised — until he saw your packed bag, ready to go again, as you sat side-by-side on the sofa.

“When’s your flight?” he sighed, disconsolate. 

“First thing in the morning, taxi’s picking me up at 6.” 

His shoulders slumped. “You can’t go yet, I’m still sick,” and he coughed lamely, pouting like a toddler. 

“Considering you’re a professional actor, that was thoroughly unconvincing,” you deadpanned and swiped your thumb over his cheek. “I’ll come visit again soon.” 

“I don’t want you to come visit,” he lamented, leaning into your hand, “I want you to come home.” 

“What do you mean, love?” you faltered, frowning. 

He sidled closer to you, resting a hand on your knee. He was quiet, eyes fixed on your lap, but when he looked up he was absolutely focused, intent. 

“Move in with me.” It wasn’t a question. 

You were overwhelmed with green. All you could see was his eyes and the determination in them, their confidence in you. The love and the warmth and the longing made them sparkle. 

Your voice was hushed but firm as you replied, “Okay.” 

The next thing you knew he was kissing you and your world was revolving. Everything you felt and heard and tasted was him and that was all you wanted for the rest of your life. 

taglist: @anikatcmh @queen-turtle-boiii @orchideax @rogerspoison @my5secondsofneverland @mrsmazzello @ixchel-9275 @radiob-l-a-hblah @devin-marie @rogmeddows @mercurycrowley @spaghetittiesbcimgay @valeriecarolinaw @saint-hardy @caborhapch @stephanie-everlasting @coldmuffinpartycloud​ @drowse13 @shhhs3cret @blind-melon-taylor @ohsososophisticatedd​ @malfoybaby​ @littlepanda-love @leezie @shesakillerquueennn​ @borhapgrande​ @stfxlou​ @vangogh-groupie @dep-thx​ @hardzzellos​ @imjustboredso​ (just ask if you want to be added to the tag list! sorry if tumblr won’t let me tag you)

#kind of magic series #ben hardy #ben hardy x female reader #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy fluff #bohemian rhapsody #6 underground #queen #benjamin jones

[nocturnalangels]

— What’s PHOEBE TONKIN doing in LOS ANGELES ?? Oh! That’s just EVANGELINE PARKER the 30 year old who lives in LA! On the outside looking in everything is perfect - but nothing is ever as it seems. They are hiding AN ABUSIVE EX IS STALKING HER. Yikes! I hope that doesn’t spread to the neighbors! [OOC INFO: LUNA,EST,25,SHE/HER]

Hello, friends! I’m Luna (or Lulu, if you’re so inclined) and this is my hot mess express named Evangeline Parker (nee D’Aveanzo)

Trigger warnings for abuse and stalking under the cut!

Evangeline grew up in Massachusetts as the youngest of two children. Her older brother Jason was born fourteen years before and Eva was considered an “oops” baby.

If politics had a royal family, they’d be the D’Aveanzo family. Her mother is a governor and her father teaches at Harvard Law. With Jason following his mother’s footsteps, the pressure for Eva to become an attorney was very strong. She, however, could never fit the mold for the perfect conservative daughter. Instead, she decided it was time for her to break off from them. While her family agreed to pay for her classes, Eva had more of an interest in psychology and behavioral analysis.

While in school, she met Nate Walsh and the two were serious within weeks. They kept their relationship a secret due to his job as a TA. With her home life being so restrictive and living a life of no one giving her wants a second thought, she was blind to the red flags with Nate. He was controlling, manipulative, and emotionally abusive. Soon, their arguments escalated and he struck her. The relationship grew steadily worse until her friends intervened. After she broke up with Nate, he outed their relationship under the guise of Eva doing so. Her family was furious with her for “ruining” someone’s career (they’re all about image and not really the best listeners) and she was treated with a cold shoulder.

With her reputation in shambles, Eva took off on an impromptu road trip with her friends to New York City. She fell in love with the lights, the sounds, the smells, and the people. After a week, she moved from Cambridge and transferred to Columbia.

She graduated on time with a Bachelor’s degree in psychology rather than pre-law and focused her attention on graduate school to earn her Master’s. Until one day, she walked into her class to see Nate working as a TA.

Terrified he’d do the same thing at Columbia that he did at Harvard, Eva ran. She packed her things into her car and took off again. Her destination was anywhere she felt safe and her car broke down in Los Angeles. Nearly 2800 miles away and Nate couldn’t find her, she made the City of Angels her home. Krav Maga became her sanctuary and helped her take back her control. She finished graduate school and became a behavioral analyst at a nearby hospital.

The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry was a quote that she started to live by and it was especially true when she built a wall around her heart and resolved to never let anyone take it down. After Nate, Eva couldn’t let herself go there again. Not when everything blew up so spectacularly. She just didn’t know how true her personal quote was until she met Cedrick.

Prior to Cedrick, she hadn’t put much thought into marriage or a family. Her own family was a prop. Everything was hidden behind forced smiles, image, vanity, and status. With Cedrick, however, that wall not only fell, but disintegrated as if it had never been there to begin with. 

The birth of Kylie and Sebastian changed her views on everything. Eva went from being a terrified victim (while she fancied herself a survivor, she refuses to face what happened at Harvard) to a devoted mother and wife. She maintains that she would never expose her children to the upbringing she had. The oppressing mold she was forced to conform to would not exist with them. 

Shortly after Eva married Cedrick, she started getting anonymous letters at work. When she ignored those by ripping them up and throwing them away, it grew into phone calls with hangups. When she started ignoring those and blocking the number, the problem grew worse until the twins were born and she received photos of her taking care of them at home. Photos of her with her husband. Surveillance-style candid photos of her out and about, getting lunch with colleagues, and more. Eva’s not entirely sure how to tell her husband, as she tried to keep talk of her abusive ex to a minimum.

full name: Evangeline Jane Parker (nee D’Aveanzo) birth date: September 17th, 1989 (Virgo) occupation: behavior analyst parents: Jason D’Aveanzo and Genevieve Foster siblings: Jason D’Aveanzo Jr, Esq.  children: Kylie and Sebastian Parker marital status: married to Cedrick Parker

physical traits

hair color: dark brown eye color: hazel height: 5′8″ weight: 120 lbs (102 pre-babies and still bloated)

likes && dislikes

favorite color: purple favorite tv show: how to get away with murder, lucifer, sons of anarchy favorite movie: blast from the past favorite song: all the king’s horses by karmina favorite quote: “just like a fever, i rose and then i broke. just like the dawn, i broke and then i rose.”

#losang:intro #/this took DAYS pls love her

[braveskyered]

Knights (Part 9)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Another big step for Arthur and Elaine comes up, but since they have experience, they know they'll be fine.

Part 9: No Problems Now, Just Rearranging

- - - - -

Arthur couldn't help but feel concerned for Elaine.

It's close to mid-March now, and the Spring season is just starting. Elaine had not been feeling as energetic as she usually is since the month began.

She brushed it off at first as stress from the job as a mechanic at Four of a Kind Queens or from her job as a monster hunter. She found that she didn't have a fever, but her occasional moments of nausea while working proved to be concerning. However, after eating some crackers, it was enough to cure her ailment temporarily. She only vomited once, and quickly blamed it on bad food, which made her mother Caelia mildly indignant on that her cooking only did that to Elaine and not to Caelia herself, Arthur, or the twins.

Arthur had finally convinced her to go to a doctor for a checkup, promising that if she came back with the results showing that she is healthy and stable, he would treat her to a romantic evening. Elaine immediately threw whatever weekend plans she had out the window, and on the day of the appointment, had the twins stay with Caelia for the weekend, who wanted to spend some time with her grandchildren. Sometimes Arthur forgets that Elaine really likes having some alone time with him in more ways than one, so he couldn't refuse when she asked for a romantic weekend with a big grin on her face.

He'd be lying to himself if he didn't want this.

Arthur thought about going to a movie theater on one evening, but there weren't any showings that would interest them, so he scratched that off the list. He had already booked a reservation at the Adagio Inn, a hotel and restaurant that couples are known to frequent, which was the original evening in question. He soon rose a brow at the list he was writing. What else could he add as an activity for the weekend? An impromptu trip somewhere near Cantabile? They wouldn't have to stay at a hotel if they do that.

He eventually decided to wait until Elaine came back and actually discuss it with her. It's only fair that she decides an activity, too.

…

He thinks it's kind of strange, to be honest.

Even though it's only been about thirteen years now, with him nearing the age of thirty-five, Arthur felt... free. Free and safe. Free and safe from the ones that hurt him in the past, finding a new life for himself, getting married to an amazing woman, fathering twin children, raising and loving said twins, slowly and steadily healing from his trauma, gradually becoming more brave against the paranormal, and here he is planning a weekend with just him and the woman he loved.

To think all of that happened because he decided to leave on impulse.

The only one he missed from his life in Tempo is his uncle. While Arthur still made sure to send letters to Kingsmen Mechanics, a part of him did wish he would get a reply from Uncle Lance, even though he was the one who made the system of not having a return address. Every once in a great while, he would check on the status of the repair shop by browsing the website it has, and when he checked it last week, the shop is still standing and going strong under Uncle Lance's name.

That meant Uncle Lance is doing fine without him, right?

Arthur made a note to himself to send another letter to his uncle. He still stood by the decision to never mention his marriage to Elaine or the existence of Gwen and Percy, who are now ten years old, in his letters, but he would write about how happy he is with the people he is with now. He would write at how he is fine and is still healing, and would always end the letter with the request not to look for him. He then thought about it, and figured he should leave that last part out for once.

...Did that mean that he is considering on calling his uncle?

Maybe he should, but not now, it'll have to wait. If he's going to be set up with disappointment, he'll want it after his weekend with Elaine, so he won't ruin the mood.

About four hours later, Elaine returned with a file folder in her hand, her expression looking conflicted while in a daze.

That quickly got Arthur's attention, “Elaine? Is everything all right?”

Elaine didn't answer at first, still staring at the file in her hand, then looked away and held it out to him, “Nothing's wrong with me.”

Arthur rose a brow in concern as he took the file and started to read the contents inside. It showed a variety of tests done to find a diagnosis, most of them being negative until he reached one line that said it was positive. His eyes widened before looking up at her, “Wait, you're really...?”

“The doctor's guess is that I'm about ten weeks pregnant,” Elaine sighed before smiling a little, her brow furrowed slightly, “I really screwed up, didn't I? Because I didn't have the typical morning sickness, and that I often have difficulty conceiving, I didn't think my symptoms were linked to pregnancy.”

He processed her words before doing a double take, then asking suspiciously as he set the file on the counter, “...What do you mean by 'screwing up'?”

Elaine winced, “I just figured you wouldn't want another-- Mmph--?!”

“Finish that sentence and I won't forgive you for assuming that,” Arthur said after kissing her, wrapping his arms around her tightly before laughing, “I'm thrilled, Elaine. I'm thrilled you're okay. I'm thrilled with this.”

“You're okay with us having another child?” she asked and hugged him back, “Even though this one isn't planned?”

Arthur chuckled, “Gwen and Percy weren't exactly planned, either, remember?”

Finally, Elaine was laughing along, “True. You're definitely taking this a lot better that I thought you would. Back then, I remember you being so unsure of yourself when we found out we were having the twins.”

He wouldn't deny that, back when he was still unsure of everything.

- - - - - - -

“...What?”

Arthur went stiff.

“The doctor said that I'm about eight weeks along, which matches up with our, uh, heh heh,” Elaine chuckled with flushed cheeks and a nervous yet excited disposition. Her hands curled into fists, rubbing against each other, a habit she has when unsure or nervous.

All thoughts went out the window, his mind became completely blank.

She smiled and scratched at her cheek with a finger, “I-I seriously didn't think it would be possible, since, well, I've been told by other doctors that I wouldn't be able to have children.”

Arthur was fortunate that he was already sitting down with Elaine when she told him the news.

Elaine discovered that she is pregnant.

He never thought he would feel such terror compared to what the wraith had put him through. Him? A father? How would he be able to raise a child? He hardly knew how to take care of himself!

What... What had he done?

“Arthur? Are you... not happy with this?”

“N-No! I...!” he ran his fingers through his hair, “I-I-I just...! I just...” he let out a deep breath he didn't realize he had, “I need time to wrap my head around this. Please.”

Elaine looked conflicted, her brow furrowed with sadness before putting up a slight smile despite the uneasiness, “All right. We'll talk about this later. I'll go call Mom and Dad to tell them about the baby. Okay?”

Arthur noticed that she took his initial reaction pretty hard.

Under any other circumstance, while the thought of having a child would've excited him, he remembered Lewis wanting to have a family. But with him dead by his hand – demon or not – that wish became impossible to achieve. The wraith hated Arthur for taking away his life, his wishes, his future. That the wraith had made clear to him. And now, Arthur will have something the wraith will want for himself.

And if the wraith or the Mystery Skulls or anyone from Tempo were to find him after this...

He couldn't finish the thought as he stood up and went into the workshop near his room. He could've sworn he heard Elaine cry a little, which only made him feel worse than he already is.

When he approached the work desk, Arthur started to add modifications to the next model of his prosthetic arm in an attempt to take his mind off the fact that Elaine is pregnant, with his child no less, but his mind kept drifting back to the subject, and then to the night that led to this in the first place. He and Elaine have only been married for five months now. Even before that, Arthur always felt reluctant to even lay a hand on her, knowing that he doesn't deserve it. She gradually coaxed him into believing he did.

He remembered her placing a skeletal hand over his cheek as she asked him the same question, a reluctant smile framing her fully fleshed face.

“You're not scared of me, are you?”

“N-No, I'm not,” he muttered to himself when he recalled that night, “Because it's you.”

His own parents had failed him, and he never had any good memories to say about them even before their divorce due to the neglect. He feared that he wouldn't be a good father. Even though he loved Elaine, he knew that he wouldn't be a good husband for her in the long run. And yet here he is, married, and a father to be? Elaine, carrying a child sired by him?

...What would their child be like?

Arthur smacked his flesh hand against his head to stop that thought. He knew that the child has nothing to do with his internal debate and tried to shove the thought aside. He soon resumed work and kept adding modifications on the next arm model until he heard a knock on the door.

“Arthur? It's Caelia. May I come in?”

He looked at the clock on the desk. It's been four hours? Elaine must be really upset if she hadn't come to talk to him after revealing the news. If her mother is here, he didn't doubt that she will heavily scold him for his reaction. With a breath of resignation, he gave Caelia permission to open the door before picking up from where he left off on the arm. He heard Caelia opening the door and closing it behind her, but didn't hear her say anything. At this point, Arthur knew she was staring at him with disapproval.

He wouldn't blame her it, since even he felt that his reaction to the news was a bad response. He didn't dare look, instead keeping his back turned to her.

“Well?” He gave a small huff of resignation, a smile that did not show a hint of happiness forming, “Are you here to tell me that I'm pathetic?”

“What? Arthur, what on Earth are you talking about?” Caelia sounded offended, “I didn't come here to talk down on you, I'm only here because I need your help at Queens.”

Confusion reached into Arthur's features. Did she not know? He recalled Elaine saying that she would tell her parents about her pregnancy, unless her being upset prevented that? He thought about telling her himself, but he didn't want to rob Elaine of that.

Still... it didn't change the fact that he felt horrible.

He agreed to go with Caelia so he can help her on whatever it is she needed. As far as he knew, it's probably an obscure car part or even the machines in the shop itself that needed repair. She's asked him for his help on those before, even though he's pretty sure she's capable of doing them by herself most of the time.

He isn't sure what to feel worse about.

When the two of them reached Four of a Kind Queens, Caelia guided Arthur to her office, full of organized paperwork and two computers on an L-shaped desk tucked against a corner. She pulled out a file and laid out the contents for him to see. He rose a brow as he read the top page that was marked with red ink. The really old van that belonged to that PE teacher that teaches at the nearby middle school is done and ready to be crunched, for there is no salvaging it this time after so many half-successful attempts. Arthur knew for a fact that Caelia didn't need his help on this. Which meant that what Caelia is really doing is that she wanted to talk to him privately about something else.

“By the way, I heard the news from Elaine. Congratulations,” Caelia smiled and made a welcoming gesture at the chair for guests in front of her desk, which Arthur followed, “You really have no idea how much I'm looking forward to being a grandmother.”

Him? Fathering a child? What was he thinking?! He thought they were careful... He has no right to be a father! He has no right to be married! He has no right to be hap--

“You seem unhappy about it, though. Is something on your mind?”

He didn't try to make a rebuttal against that. He is unhappy, but it's more directed at himself and not to Elaine or the child she now carries. After Lewis's death at his hand, possessed or not, Arthur knew that the hatred and punishments he received from the wraith were well deserved. He doesn't deserve this life with the Knights family. He didn't deserve loving and marrying Elaine. He didn't deserve having a family bearing his bloodline. Despite this, Arthur still craved for the kindness Elaine, and her immediate family, had given him. He craved for love and companionship, for kindness and for family.

I don't deserve this...

“What do you mean when you say you don't deserve it?” Caelia placed her hands against her hips and rose a brow at him in disbelief.

Arthur's throat constricted when he realized that he had said it out loud enough for his mother-in-law to hear. He huddled closer to himself, his hands shaking. His prosthetic hand gripping at his shoulder, the shoulder where the wraith would placed a burning hand whenever he thought Arthur would “misbehave.”

“Wait, this isn't from the time you were abused, is it?”

Arthur twitched before he could stop himself, which gave Caelia the answer she needed. Like Elaine and her mother Vivienne, she also knew about the injuries he received back in Tempo. The cuts, the bruises, the burns. He hated seeing the look of pity from her. He knew he didn't deserve anything from her or Elaine, yet...

“I see,” she walked over to him with a smile, and to his surprise, held him close, like a mother would to her child, “I could say so many things to you, but you would probably think that they're not true. I will say this: We love you, Arthur. We know there are so many things about your past that you haven't told us about, and you probably never will, and that's fine. You've already proven to us that you're a good person, enough that even my mother has grown to love you as a grandson before even marrying into our family. That is an achievement I have never seen anyone else do, not even Tom was able to accomplish that.”

Arthur isn't sure what to think of this. Yes, he knows that he loves Elaine, and that he came to care for her immediate relatives. Caelia and her husband Thomas (or Tom, as he's commonly called) were skeptical of Arthur at first, but soon they came to care about him as a friend until he became their son-in-law by marrying their daughter. Besides his uncle, Elaine's parents gave him what could be parental affection, the closest he could get after leaving Tempo.

“I never did get along with my parents when I was growing up. They usually fought, so I often had to go to my uncle whenever I needed support,” Arthur suddenly confessed, holding up his good arm to grasp at Caelia's arm while still in her hold, “Before I became a teen, they went through a really nasty divorce. It got so bad that I went to live with my uncle. I never looked back since.”

Caelia slowly let him go, giving him space. When Arthur looked up, she gave him a nod to let him continue.

“I'm just afraid that I might do the same thing my parents did,” he looked away from Caelia and found a certificate on the wall that suddenly seemed interesting, “I don't even know how to be a father. What if I screw up? What if I fail Elaine? What if I--”

“The fact that you're conscious about it means that you're already on the path of being a good father, Arthur,” Caelia cut him off as she spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, “I won't ask how exactly your parents raised you, but regardless, you turned out well despite it. As for all the crap your parents did? Well, then use that as an example of what not to do as a parent. And regarding your abuser? If they said that you don't deserve to be happy, or you don't deserve to have a family? Then they can go fuck themselves."

Arthur did a double take with a raised brow. Caelia isn't exactly one to cuss, that's usually more of Morgan's thing.

"They're not in your life anymore, so whatever lies they told you isn't worth your time. I say you deserve happiness, and so will the rest of my family. And besides, back on topic, you're not raising your child all by yourself. You have my daughter helping you, and of course me, and the rest of the family,” she placed a hand on his shoulder, “If it makes you feel better, Tom was exactly like you when I was pregnant with Elaine, and he turned out to be a great daddy for her despite his fears at first. Just do the best you can, and if you ever need help, you call me. It's my role as your mother-in-law, and as a grandmother for your and Elaine's child.”

“But if I make a mistake--”

“Of course you're going to make mistakes, Arthur,” Caelia gave him a look that told him it was obvious, “This is your first child, and the same will apply to Elaine. She'll be making mistakes herself since this is her first, too. You don't become super parents at day one, you'll learn in due time. Again, that's what I'm here for, and as hot-headed as my sister can be, Morgan can also give you some tips when I'm not available. You'll make a great dad for them, I'm sure of it.”

“How do you know if I'll be a good father for them?”

“You don't, Arthur. But wanting to be one is a good start.”

For some reason, Arthur felt a weight fall off from his shoulders. Not all of the weight, of course, but he did feel a little more at ease. He is still nervous about being a father, being a person that may or not deserve to live, but Caelia's words made him realize that maybe he isn't a massive screw up. That he actually deserves to have a family of his own. That what the wraith had told him is not true.

He isn't completely sure, but he does know that he wants this family.

He needed to talk to Elaine.

- - - - - - -

“Well, I think the kids have accepted it, Elaine. Sometime in October, there will be a new member of the family.”

“That's because we gave them the whole weekend for them to freak out about it,” Elaine deadpanned before sipping her water, “It's a good thing I left them to Mom, I don't know how she does it.”

Sure, Elaine's surprise pregnancy did throw a wrench into some of their plans, but Arthur knew not to let it ruin everything. He still took her to the Adagio, although he had to exclude the wine list. He doesn't really care for alcoholic drinks, but he sometimes samples them with Elaine, who does enjoy a good drink every now and then. With her being pregnant, though, they had to remove that from the table.

A week later, Elaine had to leave any monster hunting to her mother, aunt, and cousin. It bothered her that she wouldn't be able to do her family's legacy for the time being, but working at Four of a Kind Queens gave her something to do. Although she will have to stop doing that as well once she's far enough in her condition.

As the weeks gradually passed, Arthur and Elaine started to move some things around in their bedroom to make room for a crib. They decided to use the same system they did when raising the twins, which also relieved Gwen and Percy any possible worries that the upcoming baby would be rooming with one of them for the time being. More weeks passed, and soon Elaine's parents and aunt were helping with the preparation for the upcoming child.

“Daddy?” Arthur looked up from his work bench at the private fifth garage at Four of a Kind Queens, and saw his daughter Gwen standing near him while gently clinging to his sleeve, looking unsure of herself, “When will the new baby be here?”

“Some time in October, Gwen,” Arthur turned away from the new crib he was constructing to properly face her, and noticed that some frost was beginning to form around her fingers, “So what brings you here? Are you having trouble with your ice power again?”

“New babies are really tiny, aren't they?” He noticed that Gwen ignored his last statement, “I heard during Health that they'll need lots of attention.”

“That they do, they can't do much on their own.”

Gwen suddenly came up and hugged him, catching him off guard. Even though her hands were icy cold, Arthur didn't feel the chill due to the moon pin's protective properties, letting him hold his daughter even when she has trouble controlling her power. If she's exhibiting this much ice, then Arthur knew that she's feeling down. But why?

“Daddy, when the new baby comes, will you still love me?”

Arthur smiled, holding her closer.

“Of course, both your mother and I will keep loving you and Percy even after the baby is born,” he said, rubbing his hand across Gwen's back, “We'll have to give the baby a lot of attention, but we won't ever abandon you two. Are you looking forward to being a big sister?”

Gwen nodded against his shoulder, the frost slowly melting from her fingers.

A few more weeks passed, and his and Elaine's bedroom already has the items needed to prepare for the new family member. Elaine had reached the stage where she started having her strange cravings at five months, and to his surprise, actually had a craving for Surf's Up Surprise pizza. Under normal circumstances, ordering it would be impossible since the pizza in question is a local specialty in Tempo. Thankfully, Caelia somehow learned how to make her own version of the pizza years ago when Arthur told her about it, and soon the dish became a family favorite despite the infamous smell.

“Hey, Dad?”

Arthur looked up from the car he was working on to see his son nearby.

“Mom's wanting another pizza again.”

“Seriously? It hasn't even been two days since your grandmother banned it for a month.”

“I know, it's getting a little ridiculous,” Percy laughed in exasperation as a few flames flicked and popped around his fingers, “I can't even use my fire to bake things properly anymore for today. I am so tired.”

“Then go take a nap,” Arthur snickered, “I'm sure your mother can find something else to satisfy her.”

“She woke me up half an hour ago to make her pudding. They were terrible.”

“...You might want to go to your grandmother's place to sleep, then.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Percy rolled his eyes, “Hey, Dad? Do you think I'll be a good brother to the baby?”

Oh, Arthur remembers this kind of conversation all too well. He stood up and held Percy close to him.

“Maybe not at first, but wanting to be a good brother is a start. I know you and your sister will do just fine. If you ever need help, there's your mother and me, and your grandparents, too. We're all in this together, okay?”

Percy gave a toothy grin.

- - - - - - -

Normally, Arthur tries not to believe in most superstitions, but if there is one that seems to be consistent, it would be Friday the 13th. With October being considered “the spooky” month, the day and date itself would be considered cursed to some. Ever since his children were born on that day and date, though, he never believed it to be unlucky or cursed anymore.

This time, Arthur finds it to be the lucky date for his family. On the early hours of October, Friday the 13th, just past four in the morning, their third child was born in the Cantabile Crescendo University Hospital.

A nurse handed a small cherubic baby girl with black hair to Elaine resting in the hospital bed, with Arthur by her side.

It was unsurprising, considering the family bloodline's history of only having daughters, but after having Percy, Elaine told Arthur that she isn't so sure of it anymore. Arthur isn't sure whether she was a little disappointed at not having another son, but as far as he knew, a healthy child is all the both of them wanted.

“Do you have a name for her yet?” The nurse asked.

“Well, my star?” Elaine looked up at him.

“Why are you asking me?” Arthur rose a brow in amusement, “We've already picked some names, haven't we?”

“You came up with Gwen and Percy's names. I feel it's fitting that you name her, too.”

Arthur thought about it. Back when they were expecting the twins, Arthur wasn't completely convinced about the family having only daughters despite Elaine telling him that, so he came up with four different names for every possible outcome. Percy and Wayne if they were boys, and Gwen and Vivian if they were girls. Because it was a boy and girl pair, he just simply picked out the names that rolled off the tongue best when spoken together, which happened to be Gwen and Percy. With their third child being a girl, and Gwen's name is already used...

“...Vivian. Vivian Lulu.”

“Vivian Lulu?”

He spelled out the name to her, “It would be her own name, and honor your grandmother at the same time.”

“And where did the Lulu come from?”

“I thought it rolled off the tongue pretty well.”

“Vivian...” Elaine experimented, “Vivian Knights... Vivian Lulu Knights... Vivian L. Knights... Yeah... That fits. That will be her name. Oh, Vivian... As soon as we get out of here, the first one who gets to meet you outside of our family will be Mama Vivienne, your namesake.”

Arthur looked down at his newborn daughter, holding out a finger from his prosthetic hand near the baby's own tiny hand. As the newborn started to grasp his finger on instinct, he narrowed his eyes at the thought of him having nightmares again.

Well, he started having the nightmares of the wraith and the kitsune wanting to take his family ever since Gwen and Percy were born. While he still fears them, the protections he received from Elaine and her family, along with the various counseling sessions from a therapist the family trusts, he started to slowly move on from them. Ever since Vivian was conceived, however, the nightmares returned with a vengeance, but Arthur knew not to let it conquer him.

Like with Gwen and Percy, who were left to stay with Morgan for the time being, Arthur swore to himself to protect Vivian from the ghosts of his past, and to love her until the end of time even after her power emerges, should she have them.

As the nurse decided to leave the parents alone for a while to bond with their newborn daughter, Elaine held Vivian out to him, “Would you like to hold her? I think she should get to know you.”

Arthur nodded and took the bundle in his hold, allowing him to see her up close for the first time. She looked just her mother, although he could see that she has his nose. Her hair is completely black like her mother and sister, her skin looking pale yet healthy. He noticed that she is starting to wake up with a whimper, so he held her close to let her hear his heartbeat.

He smiled slightly, remembering that he did the exact same thing to the twins back when they were newborns. He recalled being scared to hold them, afraid that he might hurt them, afraid that he would fail them. But after being with them for exactly eleven years, he knew that he defied those fears thanks to the help of Elaine and her family. Because of them, he can hold Vivian without any fear or concern of his own insecurities.

Even though the Mystery Skulls never found him, Arthur didn't want to take any chances, so he held off on making that call to his uncle ever since he learned that Elaine was pregnant with Vivian. He didn't want to risk Vivian's safety if calling his uncle potentially meant letting the Mystery Skulls on finding him.

Even though he denied it, Arthur knew the real reason why he ran away.

He started humming the lullaby to her, the song that always opened the wound in his heart, yet it is the only one he is willing to play for his family. His voice cracked midway, and he shed a tear before he could stop himself.

...Even after all this time, he can't let go.

“My knight?”

Arthur looked up at Elaine, who looked back with concern on her face.

“My star,” she held out her left hand to him, “Is there something on your mind?”

He took her hand with his prosthetic, “No, I'm just thinking about how happy I am to have met you and our family.”

Elaine gave him a knowing smile, and he knew very well that she isn't fooled by his words.

- - - - - - -

…

…

…

Why?

Why did this have to happen to us?

I never wanted to hurt you...

…

...

…

No! This is... What have I...?

I didn't want this!

I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!

…

…

…

Why won't you pick up?

Please... pick up.

I'm begging you.

* - * - * - * - *

...?

Although the year as a number doesn't really count for much since I didn't really establish a time of year here, the ages of Gwen, Percy, and Vivian are based off actual time. Ghost was released on October 2014, where Arthur is 22 according to his profile. Friday, October 13th occurred in 2017, which coincides with it being three years later when Gwen and Percy were born while Arthur is 25. The next time Friday the 13th occurs on an October is during the year 2023 while Arthur is 31, and again on 2028, the latter time being when Vivian was born while Arthur is 36. In short, Gwen and Percy are exactly eleven years older than Vivian due to all three sharing the same birthday, October 13th.

Fun fact: The drawing with Arthur and Gwen is the first illustration I made outside of Arthur’s hand with the moon pin in Part 4. It looks more sketchy here because I was trying out different styles at the time.

Part 10: Live Forever Lyrics

#mystery skulls animated #msa arthur #msa fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #msa #arthur kingsmen #msa knights #elaine knights #gwen knights #percy knights #vivian knights

[reignsrkive]

‣ Exes Prompt List

1 ⌜The awkward moment when we spot one another at our best friend’s birthday party and a song we had the best sex to came on⌟

‣ Genre; Smut

‣ Word Count; 1,5k

Drinks, dim lighting, tight clothes, sweaty dancing bodies. How worse could it actually get? Oh yeah, hiding from your ex is not really making it any better, is it? You swore you would remain control, for Jungkook and only Jungkook. It was your best friend’s birthday for fuck’s sake, your ex wasn’t your concern or at least it shouldn’t be.

‘Yeah, wait until he comes in with tight pants and an open shirt, looking all tall and handsome with glowing tan skin, deep dimples that you always want to take a dive in and collarbones you would rather bite on other than look at, dumbass’, your conscience told you. You rolled your eyes at your own self as you danced with Jungkook, him doing funny faces to you.

“Cheer up! It’s my birthday come on! Be grateful that I was born, dammit” Jungkook whined as he held your hands and twirled you around.

“Uh, not really grateful for the dick who keeps yelling at me when we play video games and steals my food, to be honest” You teased him.

“My parents did not fuck for this crappy life” He rolled his eyes at you but laughed regardless.

“Ew, Jungkook!” You hit his chest at what he said and laughed at his stupid joke.

That was until the song changed. Thirsty by Taemin came on and you gulped down. The moment was like a scene from a movie. You turned your head when the song changed and your eyes met with someone’s that was way too ironic. Your eyes locked with Namjoon’s dark ones between the crowd as he laughed with Hoseok, but as soon as you saw one another and heard the song, it was like you could feel the tension from across the room. Far, but palpable from a distance. That’s how strong he made you feel. You both laughed lightly at how you found each other that particular moment until the staring went on and on. You took in a deep breath as Namjoon licked his lips and swirled his tongue around his mouth, his lips looking sinfully tasty.

It was like it all came back into your mind. Every laugh, every kind of mocking and then the slow teasing, the soft touches that became harsher and harsher, transitioning into the bed shaking along with your legs.

∴ “You-” Namjoon laughed, as he sat on the bed with you, his chest bare and his legs being covered by his shorts. “I can’t believe you just suggested that. Who are you?”

“Ugh, is it so hard for you to believe that I can be original?” You asked back, moving to sit on him, each of your legs beside his thighs, your hands playing with his hair. 

“Babe, this is not being original, this is plain weird for you to suggest to have sex with music on,” He said, teasing you as a small smirk played on his plump lips, his hands steadily holding your waist.

“What is so odd about it? I thought we’d try something new” You sighed, pouting at him.

“I know, but, planned sex?” He raised an eyebrow. “It usually just happens or you beat around the bush,” He said, playing with the waist band of your shorts.

“Oh, so if I do...” You trailed off, taking your phone and putting on a playlist of songs you had put together and labeled as “sexy” and leaned down, your hand caressing his jaw. “this,” You smirked. “You will mind it?” You asked as you slowly moved your hips, grinding.

He licked his lips as he saw you and the cocky expression remained on his face as his hands moved to your hips to stop you from moving. “You think it’s that easy to do as you please around me?”

“I mean, you’re pretty easy anyway” You teased, your lips ghosting over his.

The rest was just seconds until he flipped you over, hovering over you, his hands roaming your body until the opened your legs and later on held your neck tightly, resulting into millions of fireworks erupting into both of your stomach’s. Maybe music wasn’t that bad of an option, after all. ∴

You almost choked on air as your mind traveled to those moments, Namjoon moving around doing something you weren’t sure what it was until your phone buzzed into the pocket of your jacket.

‘N: I think we have some unfinished business’

‘Y/n: You think?’

‘N: Come into the spare bedroom and we’ll talk about it. I mean, if you dare’

You closed your phone and turned to Jungkook who was dancing with Taehyung, patting his shoulder to get his attention. “Hey, Gguk! I’m going to go to the bathroom and get another drink. Might take me a while” You said over the music.

“Are you really going to shit on my birthday? Damn, fine. But we’re cutting the cake in half an hour!” He said as you walked away and you nodded.

You easily found the way around the house, since you had spent most of your days the past couple of days there. Your heartbeat out of your chest and the humidity in your panties was increasing every time you thought about that day and how Namjoon shamelessly called you to go find him. 

You opened the door and in seconds only, you were pressed against it and lifted up, your legs wrapping around the familiar tall and muscular figure without any second thought nor hesitation. “Took you long enough” He grunted with a wide smirk as his hand moved behind your neck.

“So, long time no see,” You said, licking your lips.

“We literally saw each other two days ago” He rolled his eyes with a small smile. “Seems like today is better though”

“Thirty minutes until the cake. That’s all you’ve got to make it worth it for me to have sex with my hot ex after a month ever since we’ve broken up” You said. 

“I told you we can’t stay friends” He smirked, crushing his lips against yours. You shuddered at the fast contact, his hand behind your neck helping you get even closer to him. He took your bottom lip between his teeth and pulled on it, sucking the pink flesh and kissing you back. He put you down only to take your jacket off and lifted you back up but looked into your eyes before he did anything else. “Bed or?”

“Against the door is fine, if you can handle it” You smirked, wanting him to make this as hard as possible, missing his touch.

“Oh shut up” He rolled his eyes and unzipped his pants, getting his hard length out and moving your panties so that he can get straight to business. Your lips parted and you gasped as he pulled your hips down and started thrusting upwards, his lips moving to your neck and sucking on the delicate skin.

“No hickeys,” You said, moving your waist down on him, trying to ride him, but the position against the door giving him more dominance.

His hips met with yours at the way he moved and he watched you sink down on his cock, the pressure making soft moans escape past your lips. “You’re still all mine, I don’t give a single shit if anyone sees them. Go ahead and tell them who they’re from too” He groaned and bit down harshly, a bite that would definitely leave a mark.

“When will you be less full of yourself?” You asked, sighing at the pleasure, your head rolling back and your fingers tangling into his hair.

“When you give me a reason not to be without needing to lie every time” He smirked, his responses stronger than yours.

You couldn’t do anything but keep your mouth shut or allow yourself to let go and moan out whenever he went faster or harder, which was quite a lot since he always strived to drive you over the edge. His movements were even better than you remembered, more songs playing in the party as time went by and he fucked around, edging you until you had to dig your nails into his back and cuss him out for teasing. 

He always did that when he wanted a reaction out of you, when he wanted to make you feel, but this time you didn’t know what his purpose was since you haven’t been together in a while.

Your vision started to fade to black as you reached your high, pulsing and then squinting your eyes closed as you felt waves of fire go through your entire body. Namjoon didn’t take too long to finish after you, a groan coming out of his mouth as he panted, both of your chests heaving, your head resting on the door and his on your shoulder, kissing it gently. “How long?”

“Huh?” He asked, looking up at you confused.

“How long till the cake?”

“Uh...” He took his phone from his back pocket. “Ten minutes, why?”

“Go for another round?” You asked, your tongue running over your bottom lip as you looked at him with need.

He smirked and nodded. “Thought you wanted to be friends”

You rolled your eyes and pulled his shirt to kiss him again, harder. “Just shut up”

⁝ Masterlist

#bts #bts drabble #drabble #bts smut #smut #bts scenario #bts request #request #kim namjoon #namjoon #rm #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x you #kim namjoon x yn #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #namjoon x yn #rm x reader #rm x you #rm x yn #kim namjoon scenario #namjoon scenario #rm scenario #kim namjoon drabble #namjoon drabble #rm drabble

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

From the Beginning Exclusive!

This is an exclusive for the rewritten and soon to be posted Danny Phantom story “From the Beginning.” This is a sneak peak as to what FtB is going to be all about. You can even think of it like a trailer. Not everything is chronological and these paragraphs might not make it into the final copy, but it tells the heart of the story!

From the Beginning’s first chapter will be released on July 6th! Pledge to me on Patreon Buy me a coffee at Ko-Fi

—

Summary:  Danny Fenton was a simple, sixteen-year-old teenager who loved fast food, video games, and getting a B on surprise pop quizzes. He’s also the half-ghost teenage hero Danny Phantom who defends Amity Park from ghost attacks on a daily basis. Somehow, the ghost attacks make a lot more sense than crushes, friendships, and falling in love with someone he is definitely not supposed to be falling in love with. It was a lot easier to separate Phantom and Fenton before, but now it’s getting a harder the more he learns about himself. Just who was he? The dorky son of scientists who loved the stars or the hero that protected the town. He’s starting to feel like he won’t like the answer. (Iambic Prose) (Prequel to Guardians and Partial Show Rewrite)

—

“Hello? Anyone here?” Danny shifted outside the massive library, hesitantly knocking on the doors and oh. Okay. That happened, then. Right. Doors swinging open without anyone there. That was his life, wasn’t it? “Great. I’m trapped in a horror movie and it’s not even a good one.”

Pushing his way in, Danny swallowed at the silence and the thousands of books that he could see even from the front doors. “Hey, uh, Ghostwriter dude? Your doors kind of opened and I came here to, um, visit?”

~

“Huh.” Danny crouched down, tilting his head at one of the broken murals. While the other murals at Pariah’s Keep had been beautifully painted across the walls and held strong even now, this one was shattered on the floor. “I wonder what you meant.”

There had been one with ten cloaked figures crowning Pariah as king, but then the next few had shown Pariah’s fall and his subsequent imprisonment. Danny half wondered who had drawn the murals, but he was willing to chalk it up to it being a ghost thing. Reaching a hand out, Danny brushed his fingers against the mural he was currently inspecting.

While there were ten figures, they weren’t the shapeless cloaked figures from the other murals. These ten all had varying sizes and heights, but it was broken in the way that only one figure was separated from the rest. Danny wondered if these were the original Ancients. He never heard much about them, and he was pretty sure ‘the Ancients’ was just the Observants in disguise, but these ghosts definitely didn’t look like Observants.

Shifting his balance, Danny almost tumbled forward before he caught himself, both hands now braced against the cracked mural-

Golden eyes that shone like molten gold and death and hate and loss and pain and how dare they how dare they how dare they when it had been him to bring them all together and if they wanted to suffer than he would show them and he would make them see him he would make sure they never forgot again-

Grunting as he hit the floor on his back, Danny stared up at the ceiling and only absently realized he was gasping for breath and what… What had that been?

~

“Recent? Recent- It’s always been like this! You’ve always been so damn prideful and full of yourself and it’s gotten worse ever since you became ‘Phantom.’ You think you’re above everything!”

“Above- You have no idea what I go through! I’m trying to be ‘in charge’ because I, at least, know about all these damn ghost things-”

“And I don’t?! I’ve been right here this entire time and learning it all the same time as you! I’ve been here the whole time and you don’t even see me! I’m nothing but the tech guy to you!”

“At least you know what you are! I don’t even know if I’m alive anymore some days-!” Danny’s voice died in his throat as he saw the shot that was speeding towards them and while it might  hurt ghosts, this was a shot that could kill humans and no-

~

“The blame seems to lie in both parties this time around, so why not agree to forgive and forget on both sides?”

“Jeez, does everything you say sound like it’s from some kind of Hallmark card?” Laughter bubbling out at the annoyed look he was given, Danny shook his head and forgive and forget, huh? Not bad, but… “Hey, Ghostwriter, what about something else, instead?”

“Oh, please. ‘Something else’ typically means a battle royale and I’m uncertain about you, but I prefer to solve disputes these days by-” Ghostwriter’s mouth closed with a snap, Danny’s grin growing wider as he continued to hold out his hand.

“Hi, there. My name is Danny and I’m a half-ghost idiot with a saving people thing. I hate Christmas, I love my friends, and it’s nice to meet you.” The long silence was worth it when the ghost finally clasped his hand, genuine smile on his face.

“Hello, Danny. My name is Ghostwriter and I’m obsessive over my books and tend to talk to myself outloud. It’s nice to meet you, as well.”

~

“You don’t understand- I wasn’t even a ghost.” Danielle, the little girl that had pretended to be his cousin the last week, looked up at him as if begging him to understand. Danny found it hard to when he was strapped in some machine and doing his best to not panic. “If it wasn’t for Daddy- If it wasn’t for Vlad, then I would still just be a half-formed spirit thing floating around the Ghost Zone. He gave me my life back.”

“That doesn’t mean- That doesn’t mean you just go and do everything he says! You’re your own person, aren’t you?” Please- Please see that this was wrong. “Do you really think this is the right thing to do?”

“No, but… Danny, please. He’s hurting. Daddy loves me, but he’s hurting and I ran away to see if he would care enough to come get me and he did! I didn’t think he’d hurt you, too, but please, you have to help him.”

~

“So, yeah.” Danny took a breath after a rambling apology that had went on for far too long, a little of the weight falling off his shoulders when he saw Elliot’s smile. “I’m… I’m sorry that we got off on the wrong foot. I can kind of jump to conclusions, sometimes, and I didn’t mean to make you feel like you didn’t belong. Trust me. I know how it feels.”

“You could have just said sorry,” Elliot laughed, stepping forward and resting a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “It’s alright. I did kind of push my way between all of you.”

“It’s hard to be a new kid,” Danny shrugged, and, okay… Maybe Elliot could be okay. Maybe everyone was right and he had just been a jealous brat. “Right, so, um, yeah. It’ll- It’ll be nice to have another friend around here.”

“That’s sweet.” Elliot laughed again, grip tightening on Danny’s shoulder for a moment. “I never would have thought that ghosts could pretend to be so kind.”

“Gh… Ghosts.” Danny watched as Elliot’s glasses slipped down and no… No, there was nothing warm in those eyes. “I don’t-”

“It’s okay.” It was the same feeling as when he had stepped into the portal and felt his palm press against a button. A missed step. A wrong move. An unseen threat. A mistake. “The Guys-in-White have been very eager to meet you, Danny Phantom.”

~

“Give her back!” Ice crawled through his veins and Danny knew that each breath he breathed out was filled with crystals of ice and snow. “She’s not yours.”

“Meddlesome child.” Plants with thorns and toxins deadly even to ghosts rose up, Undergrowth at the center of it all with Sam sitting under him. “She will be Queen. This child will carry on the work that has been left unfinished for far too long! After her death is complete, she shall be the one to heal the world.”

“Maybe, but she doesn’t need to die to change things. She never has.” Energy colder than anything he had ever felt poured into his hands, and this. This was why he had first started fighting back. Someone needed to stop the ghosts.

~

“I always wondered, but why do you risk so much to protect your town? Surely you’ve read enough comics to know how poorly life is for a ‘hero.’” Ghostwriter stared at him steadily, curiously, and Danny felt all his lies die in his throat.

“I…” He told everyone it was because he had always dreamed of being a hero. He agreed that he had a ‘saving people’ thing. He swore up and down that if he didn’t do it, then he’d regret that he never got the chance to do something so amazing. None of it… Not all of them were lies, but they weren’t the truth.

“You risk everyone and you don’t have to. I’ve known you for months, almost, but I just can’t understand it.” Ghostwriter was honestly confused and Danny couldn’t help but laugh. Really. Shouldn’t a writer have known before anyone else? “Wha- Danny?”

“No, no, it’s just… It’s simple, isn’t it?” At the look, Danny shook his head. “Bad things… Bad things happen sometimes, right? A lot of times, you can’t do anything about it, and you just help where you can and keep on going. The thing is, though…” Danny swallowed, looking up at Ghostwriter and taking a steady breath.

“When bad things happen and you have the power to stop it and you don’t? Then the bad things happen because of you. If I have these powers and someone gets hurt and I can do something? I’m going to do it. It’s not because I’m playing at being hero, but because I’m doing whatever everyone else has always done. I’m protecting my home.

~

“Danny-” If this Reality Gauntlet thing really worked, which he had just proved it did, then they would never remember this, and that? That was perfect.

“I love your stupid poetry, I love how you mutter under your breath when you have a new idea you want to write about, I love your stupid hair and how you can never completely get it to lay flat you hypocrite, I love how you sometimes go hours without realizing that your coat that you’ve been looking for is on the back of the only couch you ever sit at, I love how you can’t see without those stupid glasses, I love how you have to always have your tea in just the right way or you won’t drink it, and I love, more than anything else, that you saw me.”

Andrew seemed struck completely speechless, Danny giving a hopeless smile. “I always thought it’d be Sam, you know? Maybe Paulina or someone else from school, but then I met you, and… God. It’s like I met you, and I knew- I wasn’t looking to ever fall in love like I did, but then I met you, and oh, man. I lost so bad, Andrew. So I’m going to say it now, just this once.

“I’m in love with you, Andrew Riter. I love you. You’re never going to remember this, but I thought you deserved to know at least just once.”

~

“Oh, I see.” Still crouched and ready for danger, Danny eyed the ghost that was in front of him in the dream he had found himself in now. He didn’t know where Nocturne was, but he was going to be ready for anything. “She must be dreaming…”

“Right, yeah, okay, dream that knows it’s a dream. Great. Is there where the walls start oozing blood?” A laugh escaped the ghost in front of him. It was definitely a ghost Danny had never seen before. The hairstyle alone was something he definitely would have remembered considering it was dreads tied up with beads and chains and, yeah, definitely not something from today’s style. “You should know that I don’t go down without a fight and-”

“Hush, young one.” The ghost walked forward and before Danny could fly away, he was taking a necklace off and pressing it into Danny’s hands. It looked like a dreamcatcher or whatever, only… It was glowing and the thread seemed like ghostly energy rather than thread. It reminded him of Clockwork’s staff, weirdly enough. “When you see Nocturne, gift this to him. He will know what it is.”

“I, uh, yeah. Okay?” This was a very weird dream, but if Danny didn’t have to fight, then, yeah, hey, great. “Do you know where to find him, right now? I’m kind of trying to stop the entire world from entering into a sleep coma.”

“Follow this path until it ends.” Great. Cryptic. Just what he needed. “Young one…” The ghost bit his lip, Danny near jerking back in surprise when his cheek was cupped. “Oh, such young ones. I’m sorry for what you will face.”

~

“That’s that, then, huh?” Danny rubbed at his eyes before looking back to the results of three night’s research. It all said the same thing no matter how many times he reworked the problem. “I’m dying.”

He felt like the words should have torn something apart in him, but all they did was make him tired. He supposed, somehow, that made even more sense.

~

“You know, GW, I have a feeling that we’re going to be great friends.”

“I find that I rather agree with you on that.”

#danny phantom #guardians #from the beginning #iambic prose #exclusive

[tomoyanosekai]

Preparation ~無限の現在~ (Mugen no Genzai: The Infinite Present Time)

“... 14:10.” (June 15, 2020) 

After three months of quarantine and finding a steady jogging schedule, I can easily say that I feel I’ve reached my peak physical condition where I feel good and balanced in my health. Continuing from what I wrote last month, I’m still running every other day, and where I’m at right now, I’ve already broken my limits and set new records for myself to aim towards and beat. However, although I’ve reached new heights, I’ve been asking myself this: 

“Why do I continue to run? What am I doing this for?”

As I force myself to wake up when it’s not uncomfortably hot outside in the early June morning, I keep running through the hills. On those days in between where I’m not running, I’ve been taking two to three hour long walks through town; specifically to places that hold a lot of nostalgia for me all in one trip: my former high school, middle school, and elementary school. On that same note of nostalgia, I’m beginning to see how else that trip from Japan affected me. Aside from all the fantastic memories that I made last summer, the two largest qualities that I took away from my Japan trip are helping me through this quarantine: my awakened sense of wanderlust and a reawakened passion for cooking.

Throughout the month, June came and went and I continued to exercise by jogging and walking. Within the world, this past month has not been easy since COVID-19 still rampages through our society, but only found a way to get worse with protests on racial inequality and police violence, accompanied with looting, and very negative responses towards political unrest. As I wrote in previous entries, I really enjoy feeling a sense of adventure that comes from venturing out into new territory alone, and that feeling is something that followed me back. On the days in between jogging, I’ve been walking, but I eventually found myself travelling long distances just to think, and what started with walking four miles soon became seven or eight miles. This became my escape from the world where I explored and saw the world firsthand for myself, rather than see it as a blurred view that passed by in the window of a car. The views I saw and the sense of adventure that I felt while walking reminded me of better times last year and reminded me where my sense of wanderlust came from.  

When I was staying with a family in the countryside of Aomori, I decided to go exploring one morning. There was nothing but rice paddies and nature, and I wanted to explore and capture some of those views since this would probably be one of the only times I’d be surrounded in such an environment. As I saw so many beautiful sights within the environment, there was one magical place that I saw. In context: it’s just a normal train station called “Ashino Park Station,” but that station had train tracks that were surrounded by a tunnel of trees and the beauty of the soft morning dew that looked like it continued on for miles. It truly was a sight to behold, especially since it felt like something I’d seen in a Studio Ghibli Movie, except more amazing. I found out much later that it only becomes even more beautiful during the spring as according to one of the mothers I met at the church: those trees are Sakura Trees, and when spring rolls around, the whole train station is enveloped in a tunnel of light pink petals. With that feeling of adventure and wanderlust still strong inside me, I still continued to walk. Coming back to the present in the United States, I eventually reached the places filled with nostalgia for me: my former schools.The more I think about how and why I chose to walk to and pass by all my former schools is beyond me, and I have no idea why I chose to. If anything, the only reason I could think of was simply the fact that I was really bored. However, taking that journey and taking in the views as I walked provided some sense of excitement. But when I got to each school and dwelled there for a few minutes, it reminded me of where I came from, and the trials I had to overcome to get to this point.

Ashino Park Station in Springtime, Goshogawara, Aomori, Japan, (image taken from origami-japan.com)  

I wrote last month that I was very jaded and apathetic about celebrating my graduation. However, it took me eight miles of walking to figure out and understand my own feelings. Ever since the Biola semester ended, I never really wanted to celebrate with my family since I felt like I disappointed them and myself for failing so many times. In essence, I did and that still unfortunately stands. However, when I was able to get a haircut and catch up with some friends more recently, they wouldn’t let me feel down about myself and forced me into celebrating with them by making plans for the future. If I were to think about that, I needed that push where I couldn’t deny them, and I didn’t want to deny them in this instance. I wanted to celebrate with them was because THEY knew what I went through behind the scenes; all my frustrations and struggles that led to each of my failures weren’t forgotten by my friends, they knew and saw the things my family didn’t and couldn’t know about. I wanted to celebrate with those friends who remembered my struggles and efforts; I wanted proof that I wasn’t forgotten despite all of them moving on in their lives.

With COVID-19 still on a fluctuating rampage, I’ve realized why this time of quarantine and social distancing has been so hard on so many people, and especially myself with the subject of graduation and moving on. The simple fact is that life has been halted for everyone, and the fact that I had to sit alone and face a lot of my emotions by learning to exist in it during such a hard time only made it more difficult for me to want to celebrate my accomplishments. There was no way for me to plan for the future, short term or long term. All that stood in front of me was that I graduated, I was jobless, and couldn’t see anyone to help me escape my thoughts. There was nothing to look forward to since the future was even more uncertain than it already was, with or without the threat of a virus. It wasn’t until my friend forced me to make a plan about the future in which we’d celebrate my graduation where I had something to look forward to. The best way I can see and explain it was explained best through a Podcast I was listening to recently.

“Right now, we are living in an infinite present because future plans have all been put on hold, we’re all stuck in the same place, we don’t know what the future’s going to be, so a lot of us are just kind of dealing with almost this frozen time…” 

- Scott Frerichs, “Preaching the Midnight Gospel” (Talkcast Podshow 01x21, 55:30-55:48)

The future is uncertain, but time is slowly beginning to move forward again. Many things such as political unrest, protests on racial inequality and police violence, and looting have made it even harder to live in this infinite present time with COVID 19 and quarantining. However, despite all that, time is still trying to find a way, and is slowly beginning to move again. These are not the best times to live in, but it also shows the strength and resilience in people. Although I’ve had to spend time learning how to accept and exist within my emotions, I’ve also spent my time jogging and walking, along with improving my culinary skills; especially with improving my fried rice recipe. Like I stated previously, time is beginning to move again, and my time began to move again as I regained my job back at the ramen shop. However, as I returned, I tried the restaurant’s fried rice again, and even though it was still good, I was ultimately disappointed, yet proud. The time I spent creatively improving my recipe eventually surpassed the ramen shop’s recipe that I looked up to; I think my fried rice is better than the restaurant’s. Just as I steadily improved my fried rice, the same could be said about my physical and mental/emotional health. Although this “infinite present time” seems to continue, it also doesn’t mean that I can sharpen and improve myself within this long lull of time. I’ve been through a lot to get to this point, and I finally feel that I’m at a point where I truly can look back at the experiences I’ve been through and the trials I’ve had to overcome and learn from as they are. As the Apostle Paul writes in 1 Timothy 4:15,

“Take pains with these things; be absorbed in them, so that your progress will be evident to all.”

All the things I’ve had to overcome are all because of God’s goodness. Each lesson hurt quite a bit; some more than others, but it’s time to continue walking again. Where I’m going next is beyond me as of right now, and I don’t know what I’m being prepared for or why I’m preparing myself. As it stands at the current time of this writing, I’m looking into another job opportunity and plan on leaving the restaurant if I can get hired. But for now, as I continue to run and walk to places, just like when I looked down those train tracks surrounded by nature that seemed to go on forever, all I can ask now is this:

“Well, where to next?”   

[notconsolation]

So here’s my history. It’s gonna be long, so I fully do not expect anyone to read this, this is as much a record for myself as it is anything else. I fucking pray this read more works. If it doesn’t, happy scrolling, it’s a long one boys

It’s hard to place because my memories of the beginning are quite vague. It became noticeable at the end of the summer of 2012, so I’m guessing  it started in sort of late 2011. So I was 13. It sort of kicked off with orthorexia, but neither I nor anybody in my circle would have known the signs to notice them. It also turned into anorexia pretty early on I think. Or at least I just finally accepted the label after a while. I always hated the word, though. It’s a phonetically horrible word. The german was worse to me, though now I think it’s more accurate. ‘Magersucht’ - ‘gauntness/skinness addiction’ basically. I don’t know- I just started eating things like a salad with no vinegar and no oil once a day, then sort of once every two days and nobody really noticed. I went on an exchange trip to Spain that summer and I hated it because everything was oily and I felt the stains the food left around my mouth and had to fight the urge to wipe away at it constantly. I would try to cut it up and spread the food around the plate to get rid of oil, I’d rub it on my lips on the way to my mouth so that I could wipe it off afterwards rather than take it in. I went vegan I went gluten free I went uh.. food free after a bit basically. My mother noticed in late 2012 because she went away for a week and when she came back she said my clothes hung off me and I’d always been a size xs. Didn’t stop me from doing youtube workout videos from 11pm until 2 every night. God, my tailbone bled onto my sheets sometimes and I’d use that to pretend I was still getting my period. It was obsessive, but in a way that’s very removed to me now, because now I’m obsessive in so many different ways, though partially about the same things.

We spent a long time sort of not doing much except my mother fretting and my father not mentioning it and my sister rolling her eyes at my attention whoring by coercing my organs into imminent failure. We went to a couple of doctors to try to get some kind of diagnosis because I wasn’t strictly denying that there was something wrong, but I wan’t going to take the intiative to get ‘better’ from a situation which I perceived as not normal, sure, but not my responsibility to fix because it wasn’t my mind that told me I wasn’t normal and okay, it was everyone else’s. So if my being deathly thin bothered them, they could do something about it but I wouldn’t. I think that’s more or less what my thought process was. I guess around this time I was hovering around 42-44 kilos. I got so fucking good at figuring out which of my clothes weighed the most so that I could wear them when my mom would weigh me and cry. I knew she wouldn’t want to see my body, so I wore layers of wet clothes under denim and she never asked me to take it off cause she didn’t want to see my bones. In fairness I cried a lot, too. Sometimes I guess we cried about a lot of the same stuff.

My relationship with my ED is, to a large degree, inseparable from my relationship to my mother because for three very formative years in my life we spent every conscious moment aware of how much suffering each was going through, and that empathy magnified the pain and suffering itself. I talk about this in past tense when really I shouldn’t, but it’s easier to pretend now that we live in separate countries. She is the best person and I don’t know.

But anyway, we went to different therapists for a while. None of them did much. We tried this family based approach for a while which was... god i never want to go to family therapy of any kind ever ever ever again. Didn’t help, really. I saw that therapist about a year later when I was walking home from school and she stopped me and said I was looking so good and wasn’t it nice that I was recovering and I was thisclose to spearing her with a pitchfork and telling her that really, as a therapist that specialises in eating disorders she should know better than to assume someone is in recovery because they’ve gained weight before cooking her up like a suckling pig. She was probably objectively nice. But she was such a fucking Karen. Anyway, all this time I was still losing weight. I got up early and drank litres so I’d still weigh the same in the morning, but man. There was a morning when I overslept and I panicked and my mother panicked and we all cried and she wouldn’t give me time to layer up and drink and so - tada - there’s the number blinking up at me and everyone i angry and there’s a lot of snot from my mother and spit from my father, but my body holds on to its fluids because it knows i can’t afford to lose them. anyway, I hate the number 35.8 now forever. I’m not even entirely sure that was my lowest weight but I’ve literally blocked out those memories. I have no access to them whatsoever.

I have no idea how i never fainted. I missed a lot of school. Everyone went so far out of their way to accommodate me. I realise i haven’t been talking about what went on inside me and it’s because it’s like there’s a haze over it all, muffling the whole thing and inserting this sort of dead, lifeless ringing into my ears and before my eyes. I know I was obsessive and that I was aware that I should get better and I agreed that I should get better, but that I would always find ways to make sure I didn’t eat more than 800 calories a day at most. Thereabouts, anyway. I just Don’t Remember so much of it. But yeah. My parents got me a place on a clinic waiting list and I got moved up to have an interview with the Oberfrauärtztinchefincaptainsirmaam and i am so very grateful that she was so very awful. I distinctly remember her telling me i should be strapped to a bed with a needle in my arm and that i shouldnt be thinking and doing school work anymore because intense thinking can burn as many calories an hour as a lumberjack at work. So when a spot opened up at the clinic I was able to beg and cry and beg my parents for one last shot at doing it myself. I have no idea why they let me, I really don’t. By this point one or more of my organs had probably been permanently damaged and it’s a miracle my bones aren’t entirely porous and brittle. I get survivors guilt sometimes because I really do think that, objectively, I shouldn’t be alive. I shouldn’t have made it through that. And I was so difficult about it. I would say I want to recover, and then not do anything to further that. I’d shoot down every suggestion and option and resolutely state that I was different and so, sorry mother mine, but the big fat book you bought with helpful tips and tricks? not gonna help, go away, leave me alone. I guess that was my version of teenage angst: ‘go away, I don’t need help literally staying alive because I’m a different human being from every other human being that’s ever gone through this’.

I do still believe that, in a way. I believe that everyone’s experience of it is different, and the causalities are so muddled that they’re barely discernible, but I was such a bitch about. I mean I still am, 100% but..!.

But I did gain weight back. I was still fucked up inside, but people stopped asking if I was feeling okay and started telling me they were so glad and proud that I was feeling better. Nobody really thought ‘hey, maybe telling this girl constantly and with strong, authoritative voices that she needs to eat eat eat eat eateateateatEAT might fuck her up a bit uwu’. It’s simplistic to blame it on that, though. But yes. I gained about 30 kilos in 2 years and I hated every second of it and my mental state deteriorated pretty steadily and lo, my anorexia became more akin to binge eating disorder. Depression kicks in, identity crises abound, the constant nagging intrusive ideas and noisy background of thoughts never stop, gender dysphoria jumps on the bandwagon for a while, and all manner of those tasty self-destructive tendencies find days of my life to cronch down on and consume whole.

But it always comes back down to food. I’ve made the binge eating section of this so brief because it exhausts me so and because I’m not sure how comprehensible it is as a concept to people. When you say binge eating disorder people sometimes think ‘oh shit man, I get you, I eat waaay to many pizzas AND, christ help me, sometimes I have a whole tub of ice cream by myself i hope god can forgive me hahaha’

BUt, Chad, what you fail to understand is that this is chronic behaviour where I consume sometimes seven or eight thousand calories at once and calculate every single one afterwards and literally worry that my stomach might rupture from the sheer volume of food and also that I’m doing yet more serious long term damage to my body and oh! hey frantic google searches on how diabetes works and if you can get it from repeatedly eating whole jars of nutella! didn’t see you there!

Listen, it’s all been a downer, yeah. By this point I’m assuming I’m speaking exclusively to the future self that I wrote this for as a record of what I remember. But listen. It always comes down to food for me. It just always does. And this whole thing was just sparked by the notion that I would love it if more people were aware that, sure, I deal with it because I have to and because it’s what one does, but if you could just... not bring up food to me unless I bring it up first? that would be great? And i don’t mean questions about my thoughts on it or anything, I just mean specifically for the future prospect of eating. For that very specific thing, if you don’t bring it up I’ll be super grateful because yeah, I’d love to watch a movie with you, but I’d love it even more if I didn’t have to spend an hour thinking of an excuse for not eating popcorn or not wanting to go for drinks afterwards. I think it would be amazing if we could establish a dialogue as a norm.

something like at some point having a conversation with someone along the lines of

‘hey, you know I don’t judge you or expect you to justify your eating habits to me, right?’

‘wait, really?’

‘yeah, that’s your business and I honestly don’t care, so you can stop stressing about it’

This has been an ED chat with Hannah

#about #what a ride #come back for the next instalment whenever life next gets to much for me xoxo

[ellynefics]

Visions of You | Part Two

parts;; One | Two (you are here) | Three (coming soon)

genre;; Realistic, business college!AU

pairing;; Hyungwon x Reader [feat. OT7]

plot;; 

After discovering that you’re going to go to the same college for business, you and Chae Hyungwon strike up a steady and strong friendship. But at some point… it becomes more than that.

The boys throw a movie night at your house to cheer you up after the death of your grandmother. Also, henceforth, your relationship with Hyungwon is never the same. Something about sleeping in the same bed has changed the way you view each other.

title;; Visions by Cheat Codes

warnings;; lots of angst!! fluff, mentions of masturbation

words;; 6866 (6.9k)

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP.....

You bolted up in a panic, alert and on guard. Who was in your house? However, as your mind cleared, you came to realize that it just was that damn alarm clock, crying for you to give it some attention. 10:31, it flashed steadily. With a groan, you reached out to silence it, hitting the button a little harder than you had intended. No wonder you never used that annoying, dumpy thing. Maybe you should, though. If anything, it was effective in waking you.

Sighing, you rolled over and relaxed again, trying to calm your still-rapidly beating heart. The more you thought about getting up, the more you wanted to not get up. Snuggling under the covers with a carton of ice cream sounded absolutely fantastic. It wouldn't pay the bills, though. So, after a long mental struggle, you pulled yourself up and headed to the bathroom for a shower. The warm water washed a lot of your worries away, and you came out feeling a lot better.

You even felt pretty good as you drove to work. That wore off fast though; not long into your shift, you came to the realization that you were feeling kind of foggy. Counting change was hard today for some reason, and usually it was nothing. A couple of customers had to correct you, and you flushed, humiliated. The clock seemed to slow to a crawl after that, and it quickly became the longest four hours of your career at the grocery yet.

The time to clock out did come eventually, however, and you sped back home. As soon as you were inside, you got rid of your uniform, replacing it with a spare change of clothes by the door. Then, the remote was in your hand and you were on the couch, watching some brain-numbing reality show. It was cheesy and obviously scripted, but any distraction at this point was ideal. You needed to get your mind off that shift and the events of the past weekend. 

Not fifteen minutes in, though, you heard two familiar voices approaching your front door. Then there were footfalls on the porch, and bickering over whether to knock or use the doorbell. Knowing who it was, that was not a huge surprise. It made you roll your eyes and chuckle a little. With a grunt of effort, you pushed yourself up and went to let your visitors in. The door swung open to reveal, of course, your friends Wonho and Kihyun. The former jumped at your sudden appearance, and his eyes widened. Still, the smile on his face grew. “Hi (Y/N)!”

“Hi Kihyun, Hi Hoseok... what’s up?”

“We come bearing the box of fun!” Wonho gestured to the black rolling tote sitting behind him. Ah, yes, the box of fun. Fun as in, stuffed to the top with dvds.

“Yeah, we decided that it was long past overdue for a movie night at your house.” Kihyun chuckled and stepped in first, leaning over to wrap one arm around your shoulders in a side-hug. His eyes, often so steely and hard to read, had a soft, worried look in them. “How are you doing?”

“Ok, I guess.” You sighed. “Better now that you’re here. Though, whose fault is it that this is a surprise and I didn’t have time to get the house ready or clean?”

“Exactly why we didn’t tell you.” Hoseok half-sang and waltzed in, pulling the box with him. “You would have worried yourself sick over it, even after work and the hard weekend you had.”

“Well, we wanted it to be a pleasant surprise, too, but we didn’t want you to strain yourself.” Kihyun wandered over to the coffee table and started putting stuff in piles. Every once in a while he'd ask if you needed things like magazines and old homework assignments. Nah, you told him, it was ok to trash everything.

You were about to close the door again, but realized at the last moment that more familiar faces were approaching. One was Shownu, looking impressive. He had five twelve-can packs of soda or beer under each arm, and more beer in hand too. He seemed to have it under control, and you grinned. That was Hyunwoo, the strong one. You held the door open as the tall, heavy-armed boy contorted himself through the entryway. “Geez, that’s a lot of beer.”

“We'll need it.” Hyunwoo might seem like a strong, quiet type, but once he was comfortable with you, he became a different person. He was never afraid to say what was on his mind, even if it was something slightly inappropriate or blunt. He found the (now-clean) coffee table, and started to unload things from under his arms. You couldn’t help but notice that he was careful to keep the drink weight on top of the legs. If he didn’t, he ran the risk of splitting the whole thing in half.

Moments later, Jooheon and Changkyun ducked through the doorway, too. They had obviously come with Hyunwoo, since there were only still two cars parked outside. The load they carried was considerably lighter, as they had snacks. Bags of chips and candy hung from their fingers, and you spotted some of your favorite treats, as well as the other boys'. As soon as they had set everything down, they came right back over to you. You found yourself engulfed in hugs, all at once. First, Jooheon wrapped himself around you and let you hold him for as long as you wanted. Like Kihyun, he could be scary but once one got to know him, it became obvious that he was actually a cinnamon roll. He doted on you sometimes if he knew that you had a bad day. His smile and dimples were always a major mood booster. Then, Changkyun offered his arms too, and you took them eagerly. He ran a hand through your hair and pressed you against his shoulder. Before you had a chance to stop them, tears were threatening to run down your cheeks. You had a gigantic soft spot in your heart for him. His easygoing ways, sincerity, and prevalent sense of humor were so endearing, and though he was the youngest, he had lots of love piled on. Nobody would know what to do without him, the mature maknae, a sensitive and incredibly caring boy.

After that, you made a point to get a hug from Shownu, too. You knew he’d squeeze you a little too hard, but that was ok. There was safety in his eager embrace, despite an inability to breathe for a few seconds. How had you managed to find such good friends? Many men would balk at skinship with another girl. Your little circle of seven, though, picked up quickly when you were in need and gave it so willingly.

Speaking of seven… five were here, that only left two. 

“Make yourselves at home, guys, pick a movie or something while you’re at it, too," you told them, and went back to the door. Your only intention had been to check to see if anyone else was here yet, but you ended up pulling the door open right on Hyungwon. For the second time that day, you caught someone off-guard with your sudden appearance. The tall boy scrambled to catch the big edition of Cards Against Humanity tucked under his arm. There were a couple packs of cards and poker chips there, too, you couldn't help but notice. Memories returned of other nights like this one; sometimes, if movies didn’t sound good to any of you, card games did.

“Oh--oh, I’m so sorry!” You gasped, reaching out a hand by instinct to help.

Part reaction and part out of embarrassment, he grinned sheepishly. “It’s ok. You’ve done worse things to me.” Your eyes met at last, and suddenly it was like that old cliché--the world seemed to slow and stop. For some reason, you knew right away that something was different in the way he was looking at you. What it was, you weren’t sure, but you could see it so plainly in his gaze.

You, too, felt small, giddy, and nervous at the same time. It didn't help that you wanted to ask a bit of an uncomfortable question. The events of the night before had been pricking at the back of your brain all day. Whether they were real or dreamed up became less and less clear as the hours had passed. It hurt your heart a little, but there was only one way to find out for sure. “Uh–can I talk to you out here for a sec, Hyungwonnie?” 

He nodded and stepped back, so you could hop out onto the porch and close the door behind you. “So, um, thank you so much for the last few days. You didn’t have to come home with me, attend the funeral and everything, but you did and I can’t thank you enough.”

“Hey, what are friends for?” He replied, shrugging a little, the smile on his face growing. “You’d do the same for me.”

“Yeah. You don’t think about it until something like that happens.” You were shaking. What was this wild, crazy butterfly feeling in the pit of your stomach? Your next question squeaked out. “Oh, and also, about last night. I was so tired, but I remember getting home, and it was still raining. You pretty much had to carry me inside… right?”

“Yep. You tried to crash on the couch, but you needed to be in bed.” The already-soft look in his eyes got even more tender, and you felt like you were about to melt.

“So--I really asked you to stay, and you--you--”

“pulled off my shirt and shoes and stayed the night in bed with you? Yes. You needed the comfort for sure. I just felt that skin to skin was the right way to do it.” Hyungwon’s matter-of-fact voice made you feel a little better about asking. “Also, you know how uncomfortable it is to sleep in a dress shirt?”

“When did you leave?”

“Around seven-thirty. I had to go home, get showered and dressed, and go to work. Oh, I--uh, set your alarm clock too. I hope it didn't scare you too much. But I know you're like me, if you don't have something to wake you up, you won’t.”

You let out the breath that you had been holding in, and nodded your head a little. “Of course. You're right.” Why were you making this out to be such a big deal? It wasn’t like you had been fooling around. There was a slim to none chance that your friendship would suffer because he chose to spend the night in your bed. Calming yourself down, you smiled at him. “Thank you again. I slept like a baby.”

“Yeah, you did. I couldn't budge an inch when I woke up because you had a death grip on me.” He got a little teasing grin on his face as your cheeks heated up for real this time and you punched him on the arm. Still, he had managed to dissipate some of the tension.

“Are you calling me clingy, Chae Hyungwon?”

“Oww.” His high, fake whine made you laugh. “Yeah, but I was also going to say that a certain (Y/N)’s clinginess was actually kinda cute.”

“Now you’re just being cheesy. I’m gonna give you a big purple bruise on the arm if you don’t stop.” At the adorable giggling fit that followed that, you felt yourself relax the rest of the way. “Let’s go inside and join the others, huh?”

You pushed the door open behind you and walked back inside, Hyungwon close on your heels. As you had expected, five boys had their long legs sprawled about. On chairs, the couch, the floor–wherever there was room, a foot seemed to rest. Shownu and Kihyun were chatting amiably, but the rest were on their phones. Jooheon popped his head up and called, “Hey, Hyungwon’s here! And he brought Cards Against Humanity. Sweet.”

“Where’s Minhyuk?” You started, realizing that you hadn’t heard a word about him yet. He was usually early on movie nights, too, wearing a huge smile and eager to help pick the flicks. 

Right on cue, your phone buzzed in your pocket.

L. Minhyuk🤗🌻😎 : Shift is over. Have food. b there in a few

“–Never mind.” It was Friday afternoon, of course he’d be finishing up at the pizza place. Everyone was hungry for pizza on Fridays. He was probably sick of making round trips to the underclassman dorms, as usual. Sometimes he complained about the stacks of boxes he took to professors’ meetings, too.

Hyungwon set the games down on the table, and took a seat on the couch. Without a second thought, you claimed the place right next to him, and snuggled in a little. “So have you picked movies?”

And thus began the normal routine. Everyone had different things they wanted to watch and weren’t afraid to push buttons. Changkyun, of course, suggested a scary movie right off the bat. Jooheon hated horror films. He whined and complained, making it very clear that Finding Nemo sounded better. Normally, Minhyuk would break in with a suggestion for some artsy animated film, but he wasn't here yet. Shownu brought up Demolition Man, which was a new addition to the collection. Kihyun said he didn’t care, and Wonho piped up with Howl’s Moving Castle, in place of Minhyuk.

"What do you want to watch, (Y/N)?” A familiar, gentle voice cleared up the confusion. You glanced up to see Hyungwon gazing lovingly at you, like he had been when you first opened the door. 

“Oh yeah, (Y/N) should choose, huh?” Jooheon mused. In a second, all eyes were on you, the air thick with anticipation as everyone waited for your response.

You chuckled, flattered that they thought of you this highly. They were such sweet, sweet boys. "Well, now that I have a copy of The Thirteenth Warrior at my fingertips…"

Wonho nodded. “Hey, that doesn’t sound too bad.”

Agreement went around the room. Sudden discussions about how it was a bad movie but a good idea sprang up here and there. You heard Changkyun admit he had never seen it before, and the rest of you broke out into cries of incredulity. You eventually realized that come to think of it, you knew that it was in the collection, but couldn't recall having watched it together before. Odd, considering that it was one of your personal favorite films of all time.

As you were getting up to load it in the player, the doorbell rang. “Whup, just a sec.” You hopped over everyone’s legs and skidded to the door in your socks, jerking it open again. Standing there was a tall, sunny, lanky boy with five boxes of pizza in his hand and a red and gold delivery uniform on. “Miss (Y/N)?” He questioned, in classic pizza boy style.

“Yep.”

He nodded curtly and handed over the warm, heavenly-smelling boxes. “On the house. Some new employee named Minhyuk ordered them right after he got off work.”

“Oh, Minhyuk-ah.” You broke out into your own big grin and reached your free arm out for a hug. “You didn’t have to.”

“Well, I was there, and we haven’t had a movie night since I started working delivery, so...” He leaned down to meet you, being careful not to disturb the food in your other hand, and gave you a peck on the cheek for good measure.

“Huh, right, I don’t think I’ve even seen you in uniform yet.” As he stepped in the house and took off his hat, you glanced him over. He looked good, even with marinara sauce on his front. He also smelled quite temptingly of crust and oil. More than likely, there were some ladies who ordered pizza more consistently now. Not for the food, of course, but instead hoping to see the handsome red-haired delivery boy on their step.

“Hey, guys. So, what are we watching?” Minhyuk asked, turning to the living room. He lazily unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off, revealing a black tank top underneath. In moments his uniform was on top of yours, by the door. Kihyun gestured casually to the TV, where the menu screen was looping. Changkyun had loaded the DVD in your stead and was just settling back down in his spot on the floor. Minhyuk beamed happily at the familiar cinematic. “Oh, The Thirteenth Warrior. Awesome.”

You dove into the kitchen for a quick second to grab plates and napkins (This was your house, but you couldn’t let the boys run totally wild with the pizza). While you were there, you also pulled the parmesan cheese from the fridge and some forks. They'd probably want to eat with their hands, but someone could want one, you'd never know. Then you returned to where the others were. Everyone’s eyes lit up as you set the food down. “Ok, now be careful. My landlady would kill me if we got grease stains in the carpet.” With the pizza next to the drinks, and the snacks, and the games, the table was full. But it was a good kind of full, a satisfying full. Like your heart was at that moment.

You took your place next to Hyungwon again and grabbed the remote. “Ready, everyone?”

The yes was resounding, so you didn’t waste a second in pressing the enter button. For a moment the screen was still, then it went black and the Touchstone logo appeared. Wind kicked up through the speakers.

Not even through the first, stormy scene, Wonho dove for the pizza. Soon he was munching on a piece and had the first pack of beer open too. “Anyone want a drink?” Pretty much everyone said yes, and cans made the rounds. Wonho held some beer out to you quizzically, but you politely declined. “Thanks, Hoseok, but I’ll just have a cream soda.” He nodded and swapping out the drinks, handed you one. Most of the time, you were up for a little alcohol, but not right now. Maybe later.

As the movie played out, every once in a while you’d look around the room, and get a warm, fuzzy feeling inside. The familiarity of the boys gave you so much comfort. Hoseok and Kihyun sitting together on the floor, the latter snuggled into the space between his friend’s chest and bicep. Wonho had his muscular right arm draped over his friend’s shoulders. Changkyun was watching the flickering screen with interest in his eyes. When the "scary" parts rolled around, Jooheon buried his face in Minhyuk’s shoulder. Papa bear Hyunwoo would tear his eyes away from the movie every once in a while to see how everyone was faring. Last, but certainly not least, you could feel Hyungwon’s strong, steady heartbeat. There was no doubt in your mind that this was where you belonged. Sandwiched here among your friends, you had found paradise.

The end credits started to roll, and there was a collective sigh of relief. Everyone shifted their weight, stretched in some way, yawned. Though you all loved movies, the boys were active types. It was hard for them to sit still for too long, as they had a lot of energy. Not to mention, most of them were constantly running around a baseball field, or, in Hyunwoo’s case, a football field, too. Despite this, they agreed that you had chosen well and wanted to watch another.

Hours ticked by; you watched three more movies. Of course every once in a while, someone would get up to get more food or another drink. Partway through the second flick (The Amazing Spider-Man), you finally had your first beer. The alcohol worked its curious magic on your once-serious mood. You were conscious of the new flush to your cheeks, and your racing mind slowed down, too. Another side effect was that you became more snuggly with Hyungwon. He didn't seem to mind, though, just smiled down at you and made sure you were comfortable.

The clock in the hallway struck two am right as a movie finished, pulling you out of your warm little bubble of boys. You considered letting them crash in your living room. Being sleepy against Hyungwon was heavenly. Also, you quite enjoyed the peaceful looks of the others as they succumbed to their exhaustion. Regrettably, though, you couldn't be so kind. As much as you loved spending time with them, you had work again the next afternoon. Sleep was something you desperately needed. So, you nudged them towards the door.

They insisted on cleaning up their mess, and so everyone helped to pick up plates and trash. Meanwhile, you, Shownu, and Kihyun moved the leftover food, soda, and beer into the refrigerator. You had told them that they were free to take whatever looked good, lowkey meaning everything. However, at this Hoseok tapped his chin and mused, “It’ll disappear the fastest here. Right, guys?" Obviously, it was a total ploy to stick you with the leftovers. You knew for a fact that over at Jooheon and Changkyun’s apartment, it wouldn’t last any more than twelve hours. Everyone agreed with the muscled boy, though, and so you didn’t protest. It wasn’t worth it; they’d only remember and make you take the food home again the next time, too.

As you walked into the kitchen, your eyes immediately gravitated to Hyungwon. You had seen him disappear into here earlier with the stack of trash. Now, he was at the sink, doing the neglected dishes. Maybe because of the beer in your system, your eyes got teary when you realized. Why was he like this? You could do a thousand years worth of unpaid work for him, and it wouldn’t even come close to making up for the debt you owed. 

The moment the two of you were alone, you went for a hug. Settling yourself in his back, you wrapped your arms around his middle. “You don’t have to do that.” Your voice was a little slurred, but your thought processes were fine. "I’m perfectly capable of washing my own dirty dishes."

“Hush. I wanted to." Always the gentleman, he finished scrubbing off the last couple plates and racked them in the dishwasher. Then he turned around in your arms to meet your embrace. The two of you stood there for a long while, listening to the others. Still congregated in the living room, the tipsier ones (namely, Jooheon, Minhyuk, and Wonho) were laughing loudly and joking.

“This movie night was your idea, wasn’t it?”

You glanced up to look him in the eyes, and he nodded back. “I figured the rest of the guys would be a better healing balm than just me alone.”

“I would have been perfectly happy with just you, Hyungwonnie.” You gave a frown. It always made you uneasy when he talked even the slightest bit down on himself like that. “But thank you for the nice night. I’m so glad you’re my friends.”

“I’m pretty sure that we all are too.” With a smile, he ran a hand through your hair and sighed. “You know that if you ever need to talk about anything, I’m here, right?”

“Of course.” 

Hyungwon hoped that you couldn’t tell that his heart was trying to beat out of his chest. 

Oh, it wasn’t that he had never been this close. Actually, this was a scenario that was comfortably familiar. He had always let you hold him as much as you wished, because he felt content just like this. There was nothing he treasured more than the relationship he had with you--the hugs and words of comfort, and always being there when you needed a loving hand or listening ear. However, recently, something had started to feel different. He couldn't quite put a finger on it. Maybe it was how you had been especially touchy over the last few days. Or, the butterflies that formed in his stomach as he woke up and realized he was next to your peaceful smile.

“You better go to bed, (Y/N).” He said finally, as he noticed you start to drift off to sleep because of his warmth. “Let’s go send the other guys home, huh?”

You nodded, but Hyungwon could tell that it was hard for you to peel yourself away from him. He stayed right behind as you padded back out into the living room. Someone had to make sure you weren’t going to trip or hurt yourself.

Each boy got their own special warm hug and goodbye. Of course Hyungwon couldn’t miss how you watched them go with teary eyes. Finally, he was the last to remain, and he pulled you into one more big hug, in the threshold of the open front door. “Go get some sleep, now. You have to work again tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, unfortunately. And, I will, Hyungwonie. Thank you again, for probably the millionth time.”

“It’s not a problem.” Leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head, he unwrapped himself from you and turned out onto the porch. He could sense only a brief second of hesitation from you before the door closed softly behind him. As he dug around in his pocket for his car keys, he made a last, lingering wish that you would fall asleep quickly.

The other boys were just getting into Shownu’s suburban and Kihyun’s Mazda roadster. Hyungwon made his way to his own little blue car, waving at those whose eyes he caught as he passed. Everyone was telling each other good night, as always. Some of the playful banter was missing though, but that was understandable. It was late, and a pervasive tired feeling was clouding everyone's heads. The tall boy, especially, was out of it, ready for a soft bed. However, he did register the ‘wait a sec, Hyunwoo’ when it hit his ear. Moments later, a hand clapped to his shoulder, and he turned to find Changkyun there. For some reason, the smile spread across his face made Hyungwon nervous. He did his best to return it, and was about to say something like thanks for bringing snacks. Before he could, however, Kyun suddenly fired off a question that had the older boy raising a confused eyebrow.

“When are you going to tell her?”

“Huh? Tell who what?”

Changkyun groaned and sighed. “Oh my God, it’s worse than I thought.” This time, he elaborated a little more. “You’re planning on telling (Y/N) that you love her, right?”

“Uh--She already knows. She’s always known.” Hyungwon glanced away, uncomfortable.

“Does she really? Ok, then, are you going to ask her out? Actually, hell, you guys have been acting like a couple for a long time. How about a proposal? Have you guys slept together?”

Hyungwon’s head began to reel. Wait--love, dating? Proposing? Sleeping together? “Oh, it’s not--not like that--”

“Come on. Are you sure? Hyung, you’ve always been sappy and soppy around her, but lately it’s been so bad, even my thick-headed mother would see it. You admitted to us that you've had deeper feelings for her for years--”

“Lay off on me about that, ok? You know that night was the closest I’ve ever been to drunk.”

“--even so, just, like...think about it. Obviously, she really cares about you, too. If you have romantic longings at all, it’s now or never. Who knows, one day she might find another guy, or you might go your separate ways. She’ll forget about you, but you’ll be stuck with regrets. Take it from me, ok?”

He was right. Hyungwon knew it deep inside, but his mind wasn’t allowing his emotions flow to the surface. Instead, he nodded, mostly to get Changkyun off his back, and walked over to the other side of the car. Smiling and waving at his younger friend one more, he slid in and turned the key in the ignition; the engine purred to life.

As he sat behind the wheel, he replayed the past twenty-four hours in his head. You were so radiant when you were with him--radiant even in sleep. Should he take a chance and ask you to be his? A small voice deep inside, and now Changkyun’s, too, told him yes. His fear held him back, though, as always, and it shut out all notion of wanting, needing something more with you. He loved how it was now: how comfortable you were with each other, how you could speak your mind, the inside jokes you shared. It was perfect, and he didn’t want to risk spoiling it by involving romance or sex.

So he would stick to being your best friend, the most generous and comforting presence in your life. That was all he really wanted, anyway.

Six months later.

“You’re--you’re what?” He blubbered, incredulous.

“I said, I’m dropping out, Hyungwonnie.” You said, a sigh escaping your throat, sad smile playing on your lips. “Don’t worry, I’m not leaving town yet, but I–I can’t focus on the homework and the classes anymore. Maybe I’ll go back someday, but for now I think it’s best that I stick with my job and save as much as I can.”

The two of you were standing out in front of the administrative offices. You had asked him to meet you there after class that day. Hyungwon fought to understand why and how you could decide to do something as drastic as quit school, but wasn’t having much luck. His frustration flew to the surface, more than he really meant it to. “So you’re giving up on three and a half years of hard work. You’re almost there, (Y/N), why don’t you just stick it out?”

“Oh, so you’re yelling at me over my decision, too.” Despite your bitter words, Hyungwon watched your eyes fill with tears. You struggled to keep the sob in your throat from slipping out. “I’m not giving up, not really. I still have my knowledge. I just need some time. You saw how many classes I failed last semester.”

Running a hand through his hair, Hyungwon sighed. “It was only two of them. That isn’t even that bad. Everyone fails classes.”

“N--not you. Or Kihyun.” You were sobbing full-force now.

“Oh my God, come here.” The tall boy found it to be impossible to be mad anymore. Finally giving in to his affectionate nature, he stepped forward to wrap you in a hug. “Kihyun and I are not everybody.”

Slowly, he felt your breathing calm and the tears dry up. At long last a whisper floated up to his ear. “You are pretty special.”

He couldn’t stop the chuckle that shook his chest, nor the new teasing edge to his voice. “Not as much so as you.”

“Oh come on, this same old thing again?” He fully expected an instant retaliation, and you did not disappoint. “How many times do I have to say it? Give yourself credit that’s due. Here’s a clue: it’s a lot.”

“I’m not the one who can look at a business chart and accurately predict its curve ten years out.” 

“That was once! I totally got lucky. It’s not my fault if my instincts are spot-on.” Hyungwon could feel the smile growing on your face.

“What was that? It’s not your fault if you’re right? You pretty much just blew your own point.” He almost broke out into giggles again, but all at once, his mood dipped at a sudden thought. “I’m going to miss you in class. Even Kihyun’s hoity-toity, Mazda-driving ass will, though he won’t admit it.”

“I’ll miss being there with you guys, too, but I think this is the right decision. Oh, please, will you keep trusting and supporting me, Hyungwonnie?”

“Of course.” He pressed his lips to the crown your head once, twice, three times. “Until we’re both dust.”

Boy, did life become a rollercoaster after that. It was nice to not have to stress over tests and deadlines. However there were still a lot of other sources of anxiety, too. The heaviest one was probably keeping up on the bills when a lot of your income went to pay off student loans. So sometimes all you ate for weeks on end was ramen. Still, you were happy. Though you doubled up on hours at the grocery, it didn’t hold you back from spending time with your friends. You saw Hyungwon every hour, practically. Through the ups and downs you had over postponing school and choosing to work full time, your tall best friend was there to comfort you. He still came over and did homework while you watched and talked with him. Often, if he knew that you hadn't eaten well in a while, he brought food. You still appreciated him more than anything.

It was just–why did he have to be so adorable, with that little loving glance he gave you constantly? You only saw him as a best friend and number one supporter, so why was it getting harder for you to resist your desires? You didn’t want to think of him in that way, but the first time–oh, it was even harder to admit it to yourself–the first time you got off to the thought of him hovering over you, perfect lips planting kisses down your neck, pressed close without clothes in the way, you enjoyed it more than you wanted to admit to yourself. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment immediately after. Laying there in bed, you promised yourself that you would never, ever, repeat that mistake. So you redoubled your efforts to enjoy every moment you spent with him as a friend.

Some of the most important–and fun–of these were baseball games. Five of the seven guys who had showed up to your house on movie night played on the team. In the past two years, you and the two who didn’t (ironically, those in business, Hyungwon and Kihyun) had gone to every game. Those who knew you and the five guys on the team insisted that you were the real heroes, your friends' true fans.

Of course, there were some changes this year as it came time to consider the start of the season. Without a valid student ID, now you had to buy your season tickets. Also, Kihyun started to ride with the team, as Hoseok had convinced him to become manager. Still, none of this dampened the experience any. You and Hyungwon travelled together still, to be on your feet for long hours in familiar stands. It was everything to watch and holler, encouraging your friends on. Home, away, tournaments, it didn’t matter how far you had to drive, you were there. Through ups and downs, wins and losses, you waved school flags and tried to out-cheer the home crowd. 

One of the sweetest moments that season was during one of the first games. It was a chilly, early Spring day. Everyone was practically freezing, but the boys were trying their best. Finally, Wonho, in all his muscle-bound glory, seemed to find a small streak of luck, hitting a long outfield shot that bit the dirt. After that, the guys burned up the turf. They managed to come from behind by eight runs down and clinch the game in the last inning. Both you and Hyungwon watched in complete awe and admiration. After, when they tied and finally passed, you turned and wrapped each other in a gigantic, warm hug.

But the real experience, your content place, were the car rides with Hyungwon. Often tired after a game, the two of you would do anything to keep each other awake. Sometimes that meant singing along to the radio. He had a wonderful baritone voice. You scared people away, though–and made him laugh that wonderful all-cares-abandoned laugh–with your cat-like screeching. You also played word games on your phone on several occasions. Inevitably, he’d try to make things up to tease you, and deserve the whacks on the arm you gave.

Then, sometimes, you’d slip into pure, unadulterated conversation. For a little while, you could forget about how he was very, very attractive and talk about anything. You’d sit backwards, quite illegally, in his passenger’s seat as you spoke your mind. The hesitant glances you gave weren't out of shy feelings, simply your need to look at him. It was the only way to ground yourself after talking his ear off for half an hour straight. Sometimes, it even came down to crying right there in front of him. Especially, if you were thinking about how everything at home was a train wreck at the moment. Every time you went back, the strained emotions that lingered made you uncomfortable. Your mother still felt guilt over your grandmother’s death, and your father was growing more aloof and distant from everyone. Nothing was like it used to be, and you hated it. 

Even if he didn’t or couldn’t give any advice, your tall, handsome best friend listened and comforted you. He even let you lean as well as you could across the console and rest your head in his lap. He drove with one hand and calmed you with the other, running his fingers through your hair.

Why couldn’t those nights last forever? They were moments of peace you had between times when doubts flooded your mind. You knew that, like it or not, there was going to come a day of reckoning between the two of you. Or, worse yet, he would graduate, find an internship somewhere, move away, and that would be the end of that.

You didn’t want to think about the future, really. At least you had him here, now.

For Hyungwon, it was during times apart from you that he had to face reality. His own feelings were getting out of control. It had started the night he slept at your side. Then, Changkyun had confronted him with those goddamn questions, no more than twenty-four hours later. Afterwards, things had started to change. Unbeknownst to you, he, too, often found himself breathless and whipped. Sometimes, he would allow himself to sink into fantasies that you were his and his alone. It all became too much and he needed to hold you ever closer. Feel you shiver underneath his warmth. Burn in hunger at the glaze in your eyes when you stared into his big, deep brown ones. He touched himself, too, at the thought of it, stroked his needy length because he didn’t know what else to do. Then, in the morning, he managed to convince himself that it was okay, he could move on and forget his lust. He buried it time and time again.

The tall, handsome boy was afraid of many of the same things you were. However he was slightly different. At the heart of the situation, it boiled down to a single, ever-deepening cause. Nothing terrified him more than the possibility that, in revealing his affection, he would lose yours. He knew deep down that it was probably a silly thing to think. After all, you were the one who was often approaching him for physical comfort, initiating things like hugs, holding hands, and the long, intimate conversations in his car. Not to mention the head-in-his-lap thing, which was just as therapeutic for him as it was for you.

If he had any idea how much pain he was causing you by holding back, he did not consciously acknowledge it. Hyungwon was stubborn, and also too caring. He did not see how every time he wiped away your tears and smiled his widest, more pain shot through your heart. It was because of him, but couldn't wrap his head around the fact that he was the direct cause. So he only brought you closer.

Likewise, you never saw how when you would sometimes take a different risk and dress for others’ eyes, his breath would hitch. His hand, too, would wander a little more, though without fail, he pulled it back when it did. The both of you were in limbo, stuck; caught between each other. If you didn't do something soon, like plan and execute calculated steps to break the ice, it would all snap. The plunge would be into either misery or ecstasy.

And oh man, would it snap.

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